Free Volcano by Patricia Rice Page B

problems? Surely Charlie was exaggerating. Men were like that. She didn’t want anyone’s life depending on her. Beth’s life was more than enough responsibility.
    Charlie crowded closer, backing her against the wall and placing his hands on either side of her head as if he meant to kiss her. Penelope didn’t consider calling for help. She wasn’t afraid of him. Maybe she should have been, but perhaps because of her height, men had never physically molested her, and she’d never learned that kind of fear.
    â€œBack off,” she warned. “I won’t be intimidated.”
    To his credit, Charlie immediately removed his hands. “You could go with me,” he suggested.
    â€œNo, I can’t,” she said wearily. “I have a job to do. If I don’t do it, I’ll be unemployed.”
    â€œIf I don’t get a jeep, a man will be dead. I have connections. I’ll get you a new job.”
    â€œIs the Mafia paying well these days?” she asked in exasperation. “You practically kidnap me, blackmail me, maybe even set me up for drug charges, and I’m supposed to fall all over myself giving you anything you want? Why don’t you just take your motorboat back to town and hot-wire a car?”
    â€œStealing from the poor is too easy.” Sarcasm laced his voice as he turned away and started up the stairs. “I’d much rather scare women.”
    â€œI’m sure they have women in town.”
    Despite his anger and frustration, Charlie almost smiled at that. She was determined to be rid of him. For some insane reason, he was determined to stick to her like a burr. In this resort world, people traveled in pairs. Besides, if he drove a stolen car, the police would be on the lookout for him.
    They trudged past the outside bar and restaurant. Laughter and the gentle clinking of glasses and silverware mixed with the lively calypso beat of a kettle band. He wondered if Miss Penelope could rumba. She’d look damned good on a dance floor.
    One of these days he’d have time to find a lady who could do more than drink beer and talk sports. Admittedly, he wasn’t likely to find one in the kinds of places he’d been hanging out, but he hadn’t really been looking either. All he needed was a little fun now and then. Commitment was for women.
    So, he wasn’t considering commitment, just a good rumba or two. When he got back home, he’d forget all about it. The islands made a man a little crazy, bubbled the blood or something.
    Charlie scanned the shadows around the cottage as they approached. He didn’t think anyone could have traced him here yet, but he wasn’t taking chances. A palmetto leaf danced lazily across the path. A bird called from the poinciana, then settled into silence. He should have left a light on. He wasn’t used to this cloak-and-dagger stuff.
    â€œWait here,” he ordered as they reached the porch. Miss Penny didn’t seem in too much of a hurry to join him. She leaned over the railing and watched the moonlight on the ocean. He rattled at the door lock, distracted by a glimpse of long pale legs. Like a damned ostrich, he thought in frustration as the lock gave, she’d ignored every damned bait he’d offered. She might as well have her head in the sand.
    He switched on the overhead, checked the closet and bathroom. Everything looked just as they’d left it. Good. If all went well, he could get some sleep and head out in the morning, with or without Miss P’s permission. By tomorrow night, he’d be out of here.
    Charlie returned to the porch. Penny wasn’t looking at him. She would be even more furious in the morning when she discovered how desperate he was for that jeep. Someday he hoped he could make it up to her. To prove his point, he offered what he could.
    â€œI’ll go down to the bar. You go catch up on your beauty sleep.”
    She glared at him in disbelief, but