Men of Intrgue A Trilogy by Doreen Owens Malek Page A

I see. And you discovered that nobody really cares much what I do, right? I should think that would make me ideal for your purposes. Is that why I was chosen for this dubious honor?” she said flatly.
    “You were chosen for my faith in you,” he answered huskily, and she closed her eyes, not wanting him to see the emotion there.
    Matteo held both her hands to his mouth, kissing them. “As soon as we reach Puerta Linda, you can turn around and go back home. I just need you to get me there.”
    Helen gazed into his lean, handsome face, unsure of what to do. He was asking her to take a terrible chance, and she didn’t delude herself about one thing: if he had made it back to his country on his first try he would never have contacted her again.
    But on the other hand, this man had a purpose and a direction her whole family had always lacked. Everyone she knew was like the parasitic aristocracy he described in Puerta Linda. His dedication appealed to her strongly; she found it almost irresistible. He had given up the very things that her relatives thought spelled success and happiness for something that meant more to him, and she wanted to help him.  
    “The risk isn’t all on your side, Helen,” Matteo concluded. “I’m taking a chance in telling you this, because if you say no, as soon as you leave here you could turn me in. But you didn’t let me down before and I don’t think you will now.”
    Helen smiled. Part patriot, part con artist, he was all persuasiveness and all charm. He used his natural gifts to get what he wanted, and she guessed she wouldn’t be the first person who found it impossible to turn him down.
    “All right,” she said.
    He bowed his head, too moved to speak.
    “I’ll leave a message with my mother’s secretary that I’m taking a vacation.”
    “Anything you need to arrange is fine,” he said quickly, finding his voice.
    “If your men could take me back to my car, I’ll go home and pack,” she said.
    Matteo knocked on the glass window, summoning the guard who still stood outside. The man entered and Matteo issued a rapid command in Spanish.
    “He’ll take you back,” Matteo said to Helen. “He is my best man; you’ll be safe with him.”
    “He looks like a skyscraper, Matteo; I’m not worried.”
    Matteo chuckled, then kissed her quickly on the forehead.
    “Go. Bring light clothes, summer things. It’s very hot in Puerta Linda. I’ll take care of everything else.”
    “Okay.”
    He put his hand on her arm as she turned to go.
    “Helen, I haven’t the words to thank you.”
    “You’ve thanked me enough for a lifetime, Matteo.”
    “You’ve done me a lifetime of good, mi corazon.”
    “Tell me that when you’re safely back in Puerta Linda,” Helen said.
    “I will be soon. I know it.”
    He raised his hand in farewell as she walked out with the guard, and Helen squared her shoulders, telling herself that she had made her decision and was not going to lose her nerve now.
    And she didn’t.
    * * * *
    When she got back to the beach house she left the guard, who seemed to understand a lot more English than he was able to speak, in the car and went inside to get her things together.
    She telephoned her mother’s personal assistant and left her message, then packed up the piles of books and papers on the dining table and stowed them in a closet. The thesis would have to wait, and she didn’t want Adrienne’s kids making paper airplanes out of her notes while she was away.
    Then Helen riffled the drawers for suitable clothing. The weather in Florida was never really cold, and over the years she had accumulated a wardrobe of sorts which she left at the house for her occasional use. As she folded blouses and pairs of cotton slacks she tried not to think about what she was preparing to do, because if she considered it rationally she knew she would chicken out. In her whole life she had done few unconsidered, spontaneous things, and now she was about to make a quantum