Three Times as Deadly Read online

  “I can tell you’re well educated.” I grinned at her. The smile on her face told me she was pleased with my observation. “I love your accent.”

  “I think that is what attracted you to me,” she said, almost giggling.

  I surveyed her voluptuous body and smiled. “Yes, I am sure it was your accent that caught my attention.”

  Her light-brown complexion darkened in what could only be described as a blush. She bowed her head as if my comment had embarrassed her then slowly looked up at me through long black lashes.

  “Sloan, the doctors say you must stay here for several days.” There was obvious distress in her big brown eyes. “I know I can nurse you back to health in our house. Make them release you so I can take you home and take care of you.”

  I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. I didn’t want to go home with anyone until I knew who I was and what they wanted from me.

  ##

  Chapter 4

  I kept my eyes closed as Leigh Redding exchanged words with Amy.

  “Why are you doing this?” Leigh was around five seven and towered over Amy. “We both know Sloan isn’t married to you.”

  “Who are you?” Amy said with a haughty toss of her head. “What are you doing in our town?”

  “I am Mrs. Sloan Cartwright,” Leigh hissed.

  Suddenly, Sadie bumped open the door with her hip. “Ladies, which one of you is on your way out?”

  “She is.” Leigh smirked as she jerked her head in Amy’s direction.

  “We will see you in the morning, Amarosia,” Sadie informed the dark beauty.

  “Sloan,” Leigh touched my arm.

  I opened my eyes, pretending to be half asleep. Sadie was checking my vital signs as Leigh struggled to stay close to my bedside but out of Sadie’s way.

  “It must be four,” I smiled at Leigh. “Changing of the guards.”

  Leigh wrinkled her nose and waited for Sadie to leave the room.

  “I’ll be on duty tonight,” Sadie announced. “If you need anything, just push the button.”

  “Thank you, Sadie,” Leigh said.

  “I’m not talking to you,” Sadie said with a smirk. “I am talking to my patient.” She leaned down to me and whispered, “We’re taking bets on whether you survive spending alone time with all three of your wives. I’m betting on you, so don’t piss them off.” She laughed out loud as she left my room.

  “You survived Amarosia,” Leigh said.

  “Yeah,” I murmured. “One down and two to go.”

  “You’re safe with me, Sloan.” Leigh pulled the chair beside my bed. “I have never hurt you.”

  “I don’t want to be insensitive,” I told her, “but I don’t know who you are. I don’t know how we met or how long we’ve been married.”

  Leigh looked down at her hands in her lap. She wore a plain gold wedding band. She raised her eyes and started talking.

  “We’ve been married seven wonderful years. We met while you were in New York on a publicity tour for your newest book. You are a highly successful author.”

  “And your profession is . . . ?” I asked.

  “I am the news liaison for the New York governor’s office,” she said. “When you made your first tour through our town, I was assigned to escort you to the various news interviews. The governor likes to make celebrities feel at home in the Big Apple. He tries to encourage the wealthy to move to New York to increase his tax base.”

  “So, we live in New York?”

  “Yes, dear.” She took my hand. “I’m here to take you home.”

  “I think they’re going to keep me for a few days,” I informed her.

  “I’ll wait for you,” she said, smiling mischievously. “Believe me, you are worth the wait.”

  “What am I doing in Mozambique?”

  “You’re doing research for your next book.” She shifted in the chair and leaned forward, giving me a clear view of her breasts. I tried to look away.

  Leigh placed her hand on my cheek and pulled my eyes back to her. “It’s okay, Sloan,” she whispered. “You’re allowed to look. I am your wife. You may even touch if you’d like.”

  “I shouldn’t,” I croaked. My voice failed me as I stared at Leigh. It took everything in me to pull away from her.

  “How did you know I was in the hospital here?”

  “Celebrity news travels fast,” she said. “It came across the news wire that a woman resembling Sloan Cartwright had been admitted to the Maputo Central Hospital in Mozambique.

  “I tried for hours to call you then finally flew here. I knew you were in this area working on your book, so I concluded it was you. It never occurred to me that you wouldn’t know me.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I mumbled.

  She nodded then pulled my hand to her soft lips and kissed my knuckles. “It’s okay, sweetie.”

  I studied Leigh for a long time. She didn’t seem to mind my scrutiny. She was beautiful in a girl-next-door sort of way. Long blonde hair curled around her lovely face and her figure was perfect.

  “You look more like one of those gorgeous anchor women the news stations like to hire,” I finally commented.

  She laughed. “I was. The governor’s office pays better and will still be there when my looks are gone.”

  “I think you’ll always be beautiful,” I said honestly.

  “I know you’ll always think so,” she said. “I think you love me for my mind even more than my body.”

  I let my head fall back on the pillow and I closed my eyes. I was learning the best thing I could do in an uncomfortable situation was to feign sleep.

  ##

  Chapter 5

  Alex entered my room without making a sound. I watched her through half-closed eyelids. She had changed clothes. Her hair hung loosely around her shoulders, and her mesmerizing blue eyes reflected the night-light over my bed, giving her a feral look. The expensive pair of designer jeans looked as if they were custom-made for her. They hugged her perfect body and were a shade darker than the blue silk blouse tucked into them. Soft leather knee boots caressed her calves. A single blue sapphire hung from a gold chain and rested between the tops of her ample breasts. She wore a gold and diamond wedding band.

  Unwittingly, I licked my lips as a fire spread through my body. My cheeks burned, and I knew I was blushing. Hmmm. If lust is any indicator, I am definitely a lesbian.

  A smile played at the corners of Alex’s full red lips. “I always affect you that way,” she informed me.

  “What way?” I pretended grogginess.

  “The heat wave that just consumed you.” She grinned, pressing her lips together to keep from laughing at me. “I could just slip into the hospital bed with you,” she said. “It’s been a long time, and I’ve missed you desperately.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I mumbled. Actually, I thought it was a wonderful idea but refrained from acting on my desire to kiss her full, soft lips.

  She nodded and stood at the end of my bed. “I brought you some magazines.” She lifted a stack of publications so I could see them. “Would you like me to read to you?”

  “No, I would like you to tell me about us.” I pushed the control and raised the head of my bed to a sitting position. I was thankful my headache had diminished.

  Alex placed the magazines on the table next to my bed and pulled a chair close to my side. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was one of those women who exuded sexuality. There was something about her that warned you not to touch for fear of being consumed by the heat.

  “Why don’t you ask me questions and I will answer them?” she suggested.

  I asked her the question that had been burning in my mind since the first time I laid eyes on her. “How did someone like me get a woman like you?”

  “Are you serious?” She laughed. “Do you even know what you look like?”

  I suddenly realized I had no idea about my appearance. I hadn’t bothered to look at myself in a mirror. “No,�
� I whispered. “But you, you’re a goddess.”

  “Um . . .”—she nodded—“so are you, darling. But to answer your question, I belong to you because you are honorable, brave, idealistic, strong, trustworthy, beautiful, and an incredible lover.”

  The heat surged through my body again, and I clenched my thighs as I allowed myself to envision making love to the beauty sitting beside me.

  I licked my lips, trying to find a spot of moisture in my heat-scorched mouth.

  Alex took pity on me and held a straw to my parched lips so I could drink water. “We have several homes. My business requires me to travel more than I like,” she continued, “and you always accompany me whenever your job isn’t sending you in some other direction. I also travel with you when I can.

  “We live in Texas, own a loft in New York, a villa in Italy, and an apartment in Paris. My work demands that I spend several weeks each year in those locations.”

  “What is your work? Wait, don’t tell me.” I grinned. “You’re a model.”

  She nodded. “Cosmetics.”

  “Ahh! That explains the perfection.” I admired her flawless complexion. I couldn’t keep from staring at her lips.

  I vocalized my thoughts. “I suspect we’re different. You are caviar and champagne, and I am pizza and beer.”

  She laughed. “You underestimate yourself, darling. You fit in anywhere, and you hate beer. You do consume an inordinate amount of pizza for one so slender.”

  “How did you know I was here?”

  “Ross, your cameraman, called me. He said you’d had an accident and were in the Maputo Central Hospital.” She tilted her head slightly, and a frown furrowed her beautiful brow. “He said you were in trouble and I had to get you out of Africa.”

  “Where is this Ross?” I queried.

  “Hiding,” she said with a grimace. “The agency pulled him in after the attack on you.”

  “Agency? Attack?” I dragged my hand down my face. “Alex, I have no idea who I am or what I’m doing here. Please tell me all you know about me. Maybe something you say will trigger my memory.”

  She lightly raked her nails from my shoulder to my wrist, sending unbelievable tremors throughout my body. “I think I know something that will make you remember me.” She had a devilish twinkle in her eye.

  I suddenly realized I was holding my breath. I am surprised I didn’t pass out. The sensations she aroused in me were breathtaking.

  “I . . . I—”

  “I know, darling. You’re not certain I’m your wife. I told you, you are honorable.”

  She settled back into the chair and crossed her long legs at the knees. “You are Sloan Cartwright. I call you my soldier of fortune. The truth is, you are a video journalist. You cover hard news and make documentaries.

  “You are passionate about everything you do,” she said. “I mean everything.” And with that, she paused for a split second and winked at me. “You are highly regarded in your field. Your recognitions include an Oscar for Best Documentary Feature for your film titled Ivory Traders in Africa.

  You won a Pulitzer Prize for your investigative reporting on the human sex trade in the United States. A report that sent many politicians—men and women—to prison, by the way.”

  “Why am I in Africa?”

  “You just completed a year’s work on a documentary about the slaughter of rhinos. Poachers murder the magnificent beast for their horns. It’s disgraceful.”

  The vision of a female rhino running with a baby at her side thundered through my mind. It disappeared as quickly as it had materialized.

  “You were supposed to arrive at the Dallas/Fort Worth Airport two weeks ago. When you didn’t show up, I started trying to contact you. I was frantic.

  “I contacted the state department and threatened to go to the newspapers to report you missing. Within an hour, Ross called to tell me where I could find you. He said the two of you had evidence that would crack the rhino horn trade wide open and bring down governments. He said you have the evidence.”

  Alex leaned forward and took my hand. “Why don’t you tell me where you hid the evidence and I will turn it over to the agency?”

  “Agency?” I raised my brows. “I thought you said I was a video journalist.”

  “You are.” Alex’s smile was condescending. “That is your cover. You are also a secret service agent for the US Treasury Department.”

  “And I have something someone is willing to kill me to get.” I closed my eyes and tried to will something from my blank mind that would confirm Alex’s story.

  I suddenly realized the reason I have three gorgeous women claiming to be my wife. Are any of the women my wife, or are all of them after whatever mysterious evidence I possess?

  I kept my eyes closed, pretending to sleep. Is Alex my loving wife or my own personal Mata Hari?

  ##

  Soft lips on mine pulled me from a deep sleep. “Alex,” I whispered without opening my eyes.

  “Um,”—she nipped my bottom lip—“how did you know it was me?”

  “I just knew you would kiss like that,” I said truthfully. The suffocating band around my chest tightened.

  ##

  Chapter 6

  “Where is she, Amy?” A man’s voice bellowed outside my door. Alex instantly jumped to her feet and positioned herself between me and whoever was entering my room.

  An impressive black man filled my doorway. He was over six feet tall, muscular and distinguished looking. His tailored black suit, white shirt, and red tie added to his air of authority.

  “Father, don’t upset her,” Amy said, her tone much more timid than her words. “She has severe injuries.”

  The man scoffed. “Knowing Sloan, she is probably faking amnesia to get out of your marriage.”

  My headache rebounded. The pain almost blinded me. I squinted against the daylight that filled my room when the man yanked open the blinds.

  He turned to glare at Alex. Something akin to pride swelled in my chest as she stood her ground, not backing up an inch. “Sadie,” she said firmly, “close the blinds, please.”

  Sadie sidled past the man and returned my room to the subdued lighting I craved. I opened my eyes in time to see the man reach for Alex.

  “Touch her and, so help me, I will kill you,” I growled as I sat up. Everything seemed to stand still as everyone turned to glare at me. Alex flashed me a brilliant smile. I knew she was pleased. Strangely, that made me happy. I was surprised I had experienced such visceral emotions when I thought someone meant Alex harm. As pain shot throughout my body, I wondered why I thought I could protect her. I couldn’t even stand. I fell back on my pillow, groaning in pain.

  Sadie quickly moved to my side and punched the button that fed me morphine. Standing on the other side of me, Alex caught my hand and gently squeezed it. “It’s okay, baby,” she said.

  “Look here,”—the man harrumphed at Alex—“who are you?”

  “Sloan’s real wife.” Alex lifted her chin.

  “I am Governor Makin,” the man said with a scowl. “My daughter is her wife.”

  Thankfully, I slipped into a drug induced sleep.

  ##

  Hours later, Sadie lifted my free hand and checked my pulse. I slowly opened my eyes, wondering who would be with me.

  “It’s just you and me,” Sadie said, chuckling. “None of your wives are here right now, although Amarosia is roaming the hospital.”

  I groaned and pushed the control to raise the head of my bed.

  “Sadie, have you found out any more about me?”

  “You mean other than the fact that you’re a philanderer and appeal to all types of women?”

  I moaned. “I think I’m in real trouble, but I don’t know why or from whom.”

  “I’d say that three wives are three times as deadly as one,” Sadie said. She continued to tease me, but I sensed something ominous in her words.

  “Which one of them do you think is my wife?”

  “
I’d gladly go home with any of them.” She giggled. “Just pick one.”

  “I wish it were that easy,” I mumbled. “I think I’m in danger, and I am in no shape to fight.”

  Sadie studied me intently. “Stay here as long as possible,” she advised. “Give yourself a chance to heal, in case you have to fight your way out of Africa.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My love, you are awake.” Amy smiled as she pushed open the door.

  “Are you hungry?” Sadie asked.

  I nodded.

  By the time, Amy had pulled her chair close beside me, Sadie had grabbed a meal from the cart outside my room. She pulled the lap table across my bed, forcing Amy to back away from me.

  “Call me when you finish eating.” Sadie wrinkled her nose. “The respiratory therapist has to give you a breathing treatment. I can’t have you getting pneumonia on my watch.”

  “I can breathe just fine,” I argued.

  Sadie gave me a wicked look. “Breathe deeply!”

  I inhaled loudly just to show Sadie. Oh, damn, damn, that hurt. I thought I would pass out. I tried to pretend it didn’t hurt, but Sadie growled, “Exhale.”

  Excruciating pain. “Damn, Sadie is a good name for you. You are a sadist.” I gasped.

  “Call me.” Sadie pointed toward the remote button and left the room.

  Slow, shallow breaths. I tried to breathe as little as possible as the searing pain eased in my chest.

  Amy sat observing my struggle to breathe without pain. “Should I get a doctor?” she asked.

  “No, no, I’m fine.”

  She stood and lifted the cover from my plate. “Oh, this looks good, my love.” She unwrapped a knife and fork and cut up the meat on my plate.

  “Taste it,” I said. “Is it good?”

  She obeyed and nibbled the food. “It’s delicious.

  “Now the potatoes and carrots.”

  She did as I instructed. “All delicious.” She held out a fork full of food, and I opened my mouth.

  She was right; it was delicious. Since she hadn’t dropped dead, I assumed it wasn’t poisoned. What kind of person uses her wife as a poisoned food taster?