Good Deed Bad Deed, Marcia Morgan [summer beach reads TXT] 📗

some unseen force had conspired to bring her to this pivotal moment. It all could have gone so differently, and she shuddered at the thought. She began a mental list of everything that was good in her life. Like counting sheep, the exercise urged her into the arms of Morpheus.

* * *

It was barely light when the phone rang in Ben’s room. It was a wakeup call from the concierge, evidently set up by his father, who had said they would need an early start. He went to the adjoining door and listened for any sound that might indicate Ana was awake. It was quiet. He knocked several times before she answered in a sleepy voice, “Okay… I’m up.” She rolled over and emitted a quiet groan. It had been a restless night, courtesy of her uncertainty.

“We need to get packed. Dad will probably be bringing the itinerary any minute.”

Ben turned toward the bathroom and saw an envelope that had been pushed under the door while he was sleeping. It contained the itinerary and plane tickets, along with a note saying that at eight a.m. there would be a hired car in front of the hotel ready to take them to the airport. Rather than yell through the door again he telephoned Ana’s room. She reached for the phone by the bed and answered, seeming startled to hear Ben’s voice on the other end telling her they had to leave soon.

“Yes, I understand… I’ll hurry,” she said, throwing back the coverlet.

A quick look out the window revealed a cloudy sky, and beyond the city’s skyline a ridge of darkness seemed to be moving toward the city. Within fifteen minutes Ana had readied herself, gathered her belongings, and checked the room for anything left behind. She knocked lightly and went through to Ben’s room, without waiting for him to answer. He came out of the bathroom half dressed, shirt in hand. He put it on and quickly buttoned it while Ana stood by, quietly admiring him. Ben smiled as he snatched the familiar leather jacket off the chair, but he didn’t say a word.

“I’m ready to go,” Ana said. “I just need my luggage brought through so you can call the desk to have it picked up.”

“I can manage two pieces of luggage. It will save time.”

Ana was wary and questioned his choice. “Remember your shoulder… and everything else that hurts.”

He countered immediately. “Nothing hurts,” he said, his tone adamant, then hoisted the two bags— one in each hand.

“You know best,” Ana said, thinking that it was the wrong moment for any type of challenge to his masculinity. She hoped it was true— that his injuries had mended.

They entered the elevator and moments later walked out into the hotel lobby. Ben’s parents were seated there and stood to greet them. The previous night Paris had requested a breakfast-to-go for two, to be ready by eight in the morning. Two coffees and a cellophane bag of pastries sat on the table next to where she had been sitting. She picked up the coffees and handed them to Ben, then gave the bag to Ana. Before goodbyes were said a middle-aged man in a suit came through the entrance and went to the desk to have the concierge notify the McKinnons that their car had arrived.

Hugh spotted him, and figuring he must be the driver, waved him over to their group. They conversed for a moment and Hugh showed him the bags. The man picked them up, nodded respectfully to both women, and exited the hotel. They all followed him out and waited while he stowed their belongings. Ben commented that hiring a limo was a bit over the top.

Hugh laughed and said, “Nonsense! Nothing but the best for our hero and heroine.”

The driver then opened the rear door, motioned to his passengers, and said, “We really must leave or you may miss the flight.”

Ben suspected that the man wasn’t a limo driver by profession, but more likely another Interpol friend of a friend reciprocating as a professional courtesy for some previous favor done. There was a bit of drama in Paris’ goodbye. She found it difficult to contemplate having Ben out of her sight again after what had happened. Hugh lovingly admonished her for being tearful and they all embraced, Ben assuring her that the purpose of this separation was for pleasure. After one last kiss on his mother’s cheek he ushered Ana into the back seat, but then hesitated before getting into the vehicle.

He faced his parents and asked a last one-word question. “Valerie?”

“Doing well,” his father said. “Her parents are with her, and as soon as she’s a little stronger they plan to return to London and stay on with her for a while. It’s been decided that she’ll do best under the care of a therapist with whom she’s familiar. That’s Kate Locksley.”

Ben felt a great sense of relief. With a last wave to his parents he climbed into the back seat beside Ana. As the vehicle pulled away he reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She was reminded of the first night and the taxi ride to her hotel, Ben holding her hand, gritting his teeth in pain. So much had happened. She wondered if he was remembering as well. As if on cue, each turned to the other, smiled, and took a deep breath, letting it go slowly as if releasing all the fear and danger of the past weeks.

The vehicle was headed south toward the same ridge of dark clouds that had been advancing on the city. Just as they left the environs of Pamplona and turned onto the airport route, the sky opened up. A summer cloudburst reduced visibility so badly that the driver pulled over to wait it out. Though intense, it passed in minutes, allowing the driver to continue. Ana expressed her concern about the delay and the plane’s departure time, but the driver assured them the distance was