Page 12 of Cutter’s Lady

“You’re joking. Who?”

“His name’s Cutter.”

“Cutter who? Or should I say who Cutter?”

“I don’t know. Apparently he goes by only one name.”

Her father was silent for a moment. “Leslie, are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Leslie chuckled. “Not really. Avery found him for me. I think the guy’s legitimately an expert on San Cristóbal. He worked for the government there and then for some private corporations. Avery got his name through an executive at Stone Oil who worked in San Cristóbal—Ashe Harlan. Ashe said Cutter was the best, and Avery put a lot of stock in his opinion. Ashe better be right. I’m paying Cutter a mint.”

“Probably more than Blake’s worth.”

“Dad! I thought you liked Blake.”

“He seemed to be a good employee, but he must have been very unstable, quitting the company and running off to the middle of nowhere.”

“I think he was upset.”

“That’s what I said: unstable.”

“I’m sending Cutter after him anyway.” Leslie sighed.

“Not much else you could do.”

“And I’m going with him.”

“Good Lord! Why?” Geoff asked.

“Because I don’t completely trust Cutter. I want to make sure he really tries to find Blake.”

“What did Avery say to this scheme?”

“He’s against it, of course.”

“I’m glad he’s got some sense.”

“Dad…”

“Keeping an eye on a several-thousand-dollars investment won’t be worth your getting killed or kidnapped, too, you know.”

“I’m sure it won’t be that dangerous,” Leslie protested. “And it’s not just to protect my money; I have to make sure that everything possible is done to get Blake out. If I let Cutter go by himself and he doesn’t bring Blake back, I’ll always have doubts.”

“When are you leaving?

“Tomorrow. I’m meeting Cutter in Houston, and we’re taking the four-fifty flight to La Luz.”

Again her father was quiet. Then he said slowly, “It’s not like you to be this impulsive.”

“It’s not impulsive.”

“You’re hopping on a flight tomorrow to another country with a man you don’t know, and that’s not impulsive?”

“It has to be done quickly. The longer we wait, the worse Blake’s chances are. It’s already been three weeks. I can’t sit around dithering. I’m used to making quick decisions. I’ve done it in my work lots of times.”

“This isn’t business. I’m afraid your emotions have overwhelmed your common sense.”

Leslie pressed her lips together. All the resistance to her plan was getting on her nerves. She wanted to lash out at her father and remind him that she was an adult who had weathered a few storms, not an inexperienced child. However, she forced herself to respond calmly; she knew the reason behind him warnings. He was afraid she was revealing an emotionally charged, impulsive side to her character, a trait inherited from her mother.

“I’ll be fine, Dad,” she replied with all the calm she could muster. “I promise. You’ll see. I’ll call you when I get back.”

He fired a few more protests at her, but Leslie managed to evade them and hung up the phone after only another five minutes. She rose and stretched. She was exhausted from the plane trip and arguing with Cutter, Avery and her father—not to mention all the work she’d done getting ready to leave. She could pack tomorrow. Right now the best thing to do was sleep.

She returned to the living room to bolt the door and turn on the security system, then drifted over to the opened curtains. Her mind went back to her father’s words. Geoff had always lived in fear that someday that wild, irresponsible streak that had been in Heather Harper would break out in their daughter, despite all his efforts to make Leslie stable and mature. Leslie herself had often been somewhat afraid of that happening.

But that wasn’t what was going on here. Cutter had to have a watchdog; Leslie was too uneasy around him. She had found over the years that it was wise to pay attention to her gut feelings, and this time they were telling her to oversee the operation. If it had been anyone else besides his only daughter, she was sure her father would have agreed that it was necessary.

She was acting responsibly. After all, it wasn’t as if it would be a vacation—especially having to travel with Cutter. She wouldn’t do it unless she had to. As for the flutter in her stomach, the exhilarating rush of adrenaline that was already beginning to pump through her, well, that was just her usual reaction to facing a challenge. She felt the same way when she met a business obstacle head-on.

Leslie leaned her head against cool window. But if what she was thinking was true, why did she feel excitement swelling in her chest? Why was her very skin alive with anticipation? Could it be that she was eager to pit herself against the hardships and dangers of San Cristóbal? Or could it actually be that she was looking forward to seeing that odious man again?

What made her think something crazy like that? Absolutely nothing could be farther from the truth. She detested Cutter. Detested him. She whirled away and strode into her bedroom.