Beverly Barton - Determined to Protect, Forbidden to Love

“Sit down, sit down.” Dolores motioned to them. “I will introduce you and then you must introduce Jennifer as you did on the newscast earlier today.”

The next hour seemed surreal to J.J. from the second round of unrestrained applause for Miguel, to his glowing introduction of her as his fiancée. Because he appeared to be besotted with her, his loyal supporters accepted her wholeheartedly. She couldn’t help wondering how their breakup, after the election, would affect his popularity with his constituents. The best thing for him to do would be to lay all the blame at her feet, to accuse her of not being the woman he’d thought she was, of running off and leaving him when he needed her most. If he did that, he’d probably have women coming out of the woodwork eager and willing to offer him comfort.

Although everyone had been exceptionally nice to her, J.J. felt uneasy. With her stomach muscles tied in knots and her mind swirling with unexplained apprehension, she nibbled at her delicious lunch. Call it a sixth sense or just gut instinct, but she had the strangest feeling that something was wrong—or soon would be. But nothing seemed out of place. She did her best not to be obvious as she surveyed the dining room, the women in attendance and the numerous waiters and waitresses. This entire event was a security agent’s nightmare. But without a staff of agents and a client willing to accept his vulnerability, there was little she could do except stick to Miguel like glue.

As she picked at her dessert, some elaborate chocolate concoction, and listened while Miguel made small talk with the others at their table, a sick feeling hit her in the pit of her belly. Like an animal whose hackles had risen, she sensed danger.

Then it happened.

Someone screamed.

J.J.’s first thought was to protect Miguel.

She shot out of her chair and prepared to hurl herself at him and knock him out of his chair and onto the floor. However, he grabbed her and pulled her down into his lap, as if he intended to protect her, not the other way around.

“Wait.” He spoke only that one word.

Another scream echoed from the back of the room. And then another.

“Snakes!” several women cried out.

“There are snakes crawling around on the floor,” Dolores cried. “Look. See them. There.”

“My God!” Josephina gasped. “Are they poisonous snakes? Does anyone know?”

“There must be at least a dozen of them,” Zita Fuentes said. “Someone must do something immediately.”

Before she could stop him, Miguel came up out of his chair and planted J.J. on the floor, then barreled off the podium and into the audience. Standing quickly, J.J. jumped off the podium right behind him, landing haphazardly on her high heels. She almost smacked into his back when he stopped abruptly to study one of the slithering creatures near his feet.

With women screaming, some climbing on their chairs, a few already on top of the tables and others trying to escape through the nearest exits, which seemed blocked by even more snakes, Miguel picked up one of the reptiles.

Smiling as he held the cold-blooded creature in his hand, Miguel called out in a loud, clear voice. “They are not poisonous. Please stay calm. These are hognose snakes. They’re harmless.”

“They’re not poisonous?” J.J. eased out from behind him and, avoiding the snake he still held, came to his side.

He shook his head. “Completely harmless, but they seemed to have served their purpose.” He glanced around at the panicked women. “Someone released these snakes to make a point.”

“To show you how vulnerable you are, how easily they can get to you,” J.J. said. “The same reason they shot out the tire earlier today. Scare tactics.”

The country club’s manager and male members of the staff rushed into the dining room. When they saw the snakes slithering around on the floor, several men balked, but when Miguel assured them the reptiles were harmless, they set about capturing the creatures. Miguel handed over his captive to the manager.

In her peripheral vision, J.J. caught a glimpse of a tall, slender brunette in a striking hot-pink dress as she bent down and grasped one of the snakes and handed it to a waiter. Only after the fact did J.J. realize that Miguel had seen the incident, and now the attrac tive woman was smiling at him as she walked toward him.

“A fearless woman,” Miguel said to her as she approached them.

“Señor Ramirez…” She held out her slender, well-manicured hand to Miguel. “What a shame that someone had to play such a dreadful prank and ruin the luncheon for everyone.”

Miguel kissed the woman’s hand. She batted her long eyelashes at him and smiled coyly.

“A day is never ruined when I make the acquaintance of such a lovely and brave lady. I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage,” Miguel said. “You know who I am, but I do not know who you are.”

“I am Gala Hernandez.”

“It is my pleasure, señorita. It is señorita , is it not?”

She giggled. The silly woman actually giggled. J.J. glared at her.

“I’m Jennifer Blair, Miguel’s fiancée.” J.J. stuck out her hand.

Gala glanced at J.J.’s hand, but quickly returned her attention to Miguel. “I must tell you, before someone else does, that I have ties to the enemy camp.”

Miguel lifted an inquisitive eyebrow.

J.J. tensed.

“Your sister…your half-sister, Seina, is my oldest and dearest friend.”

Getting close enough to brush her shoulder against Miguel’s, she lowered her voice to a whisper, making it difficult for J.J. to hear what she was saying. So J.J. pressed up against Miguel’s other side.

“Your sister secretly supports your bid for the presidency,” Gala told him. “She does not dare speak publicly on your behalf. I am certain you can understand. So, she has sent me in her place.”

Miguel eyed the woman suspiciously. Good for him, J.J. thought. At least he’s not buying her story hook, line and sinker. For all they knew, Gala Hernandez could be a spy for the enemy camp.

“Please tell Seina that I appreciate her support and when I am president, I hope that she will be able to publicly acknowledge me as her brother.”

“I am sure that is her heartfelt wish,” Gala said.

“Miguel, querido …” J.J. tugged on his arm. “I do not mean to take you away from a new convert, but you really should make a statement to the ladies who are still here, then we need to contact Roberto and Carlos to make arrangements for a car to pick us up. We’re due at St. Augustine’s in less than an hour.”

“Oh, please, allow me to drive you back to Nava,” Gala said. “It would be my honor.”

J.J. groaned internally. Bad idea, she wanted to shout, but kept quiet. Surely, Miguel would decline the woman’s offer.

“How very kind of you, Señorita Hernandez. Thank you. But I am sure my driver has arranged for another car and will soon arrive to pick us up.”

J.J. breathed a sigh of relief and looked at Miguel with new respect.

A crew of news people had followed Jennifer and him as Juan introduced them to the children at St. Augustine’s. His lovely fake fiancée had shown genuine compassion and caring for the residents of the pediatric ward and somehow he had not been the least surprised to find that the lady had quite a way with children. The little ones had responded to her warm smile and gentle touch.

After returning home, both of them weary from the events of the long day, J.J. had gone upstairs to his bedroom suite and was now soaking in his marble bathtub. But he was not alone. Per J.J.’s instructions, Domingo Shea stayed at his side.

“Whenever I can’t be with you, Dom will be. After all, he is supposed to be your cousin and there’s no reason for anyone to be suspicious when he’s often with you.”