Free The Fall of Maggie Brown by Anne Stuart Page B

say that. I just like to win.”
    The Diet Coke was gone, the can empty and Maggie felt a fleeting pang of regret. She banished it sternly. “You’re not the man I thought you were, Frazer,” she said.
    “Considering you’ve made it clear you think I’m the scum of the earth, I guess I should be gratified. I stick my neck out for no one.”
    There was something oddly familiar about that statement, and the way he said it, but try as she could to place it, it eluded her. And then she remembered. It was a line from
Casablanca.
But was Ben Frazer playing a part, or did he really mean it?
    “So what if we find Stella among The Professor’s followers?”
    “Do you think that’s likely?”
    “No,” she said honestly. “She goes for swashbucklers like you, not scholarly types. I can’t see someone like The Professor exciting her romantic instincts.”
    “Swashbuckler?” he echoed, horrified.
    His reaction was almost as good as the can of soda had been.
    “She’s too idealistic to be swayed by Cabral and his goons,” she said. “But she might be with one of The Professor’s followers. What would you do then?”
    “Hand you over, take your money and get the hell out of there,” he said. “Swashbuckler,” he muttered again in disgust. “I am not a swashbuckler.”
    “We’ll need to get back to Las Palmas. That was part of the deal.”
    He sighed. “Okay, I bundle you and your sister back into this Jeep, tie up your sister if she resists, fight off The Professor’s men single-handedly and then get the two of you back out of the mountains and onto the next plane to the U.S. Simple. I think my price has just gone up.”
    They’d left the city limits and were heading toward the mountains looming in the distance. Maggie took one last look at The Professor’s aesthetic countenance, oddly taken. He looked like a good man, unlike the fascist bully who ran the country. She shoved the paper back under the seat, grabbing onto the split leather seat as Ben ran over a bump in the road.
    “How long will it take us to get into the mountains?” she asked.
    “Most of the day. We’ll head toward Segundo tonight. I have a friend or two in the area who might have some idea where Stella might be.”
    “Then why didn’t we head there in the first place?”
    “Because I’m still convinced your sister is in the southern lake region,” he snapped.
    She knew a moment’s hesitation. Was she being crazy to insist he take her west? Was he taking her farther and farther away from her sister, when time was in such short supply?
    The silence stretched between them as they moved deeper into the countryside, and when she finally broke it her voice wasn’t as strong as she would have liked. “I need to find her, Ben,” she said. “I need to trust you. We’ll go where you say.”
    He didn’t slow the Jeep, didn’t even look at her, but she knew he was considering his options. Apart from that, she didn’t have the faintest idea what was going on behind his tanned, impassive face, his electric-blue eyes.
    “We’ll head west,” he said finally. “Salazar usually knows what he’s talking about. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
    She allowed herself a cautious sigh of relief. She’d done it. She’d put her fate in his hands. Now all she had to do was really believe she could trust him.
    She slid down in the seat, clutching the cracked leather with her fingers as they went over another bump. Even though the sun had risen the day was cloudy, hot and overcast, and ominous clouds hovered near the peaks of the mountains. “Does this vehicle have any kind of roof?” she asked.
    “Nope. You afraid of a little rain?”
    She sighed. “Swashbuckler,” she muttered again, knowing it annoyed him.
    The Jeep jerked ahead slightly on the bumpy road. “Cut it out,” he growled, “or I’ll feed you to the crocodiles.”
    “You have crocodiles in the mountains of San Pablo?”
    “I’ll import some.”
    She leaned back, satisfied that