Page 85 of Native Hawk
Chapter 25
As Catalina swept down the dark, deserted streets of Paradise toward the jail, she bit her lip, holding back the tears that wanted to spill over her lashes.
Could it be true? Could Drew have a wife? Was she carrying his child?
It was too painful to think about.
She couldn’t be angry with the lady. After all, she could have been an innocent like Catalina. Drew Hawk could have used his charm on her. He may have seduced her into sleeping with him, never imagining there would be a baby.
On the other hand, she might be his legal wife. Perhaps Drew had overlooked that tiny detail in his quest to bed Catalina.
Either way, she knew she couldn’t shoot the woman. None of this was her fault. Drew, however…
She furrowed her brow. She couldn’t shoot him either, no matter what she tried to tell herself. But at least she could take control of the situation. The pistol would give Catalina courage when she felt like she was about to fall apart.
The last thing Catalina expected to find when she reached the jail and let herself in through the unguarded door was a lady handcuffed to the bars of the jail cell.
It had to be the woman who had taken Drew.
Catalina’s heart sank as she saw how lovely and delicate she was, like a fair-haired, sweet-faced cherub in a painting. She had sun-kissed skin, eyes as green as emeralds, and short hair like a sunlit wheat field.
How could Drewnotbe attracted to her? She was as beautiful as a summer day.
In fact, the only flaw Catalina could see was that she was dressed in an ugly brown gown that did nothing for her features or her figure. But then, what would Drew care? He’d probably have her out of her clothes in the blink of an eye.
Despite the pain wrenching at her heart, Catalina swung the forty-five around. “Where is he? I know he came here.”
The woman pretended she didn’t know who Catalina meant.
“Are you his wife?” Catalina asked, choking on the words, dreading the answer.
“Whose wife? And will you please put down that—”
“Drew’s.”
“Drew’s? No!”
She might not be his wife. But she might be promised to him. “His, what-you-call-it, financier?”
“Fiancée? No. Who are you?”
So the woman wasn’t his wife and wasn’t his fiancée. She should be relieved. But she was more confused than anything. Who was the woman then? “But you came to the jail with Drew, yes?”
“Yes, but—”
Catalina brandished the pistol. “What have you done with him?”
“Nothing. I haven’t… Will you please put down that gun?” She lifted her cuffed hand. “I can’t do you any harm. Who are you anyway?”
Since the woman obviously had no hold on Drew, Catalina would tell her in no uncertain terms. She lowered the pistol. “I am Drew Hawk’s lady.”
The woman gave her a look full of doubt, a look that incensed Catalina. How dare this ragged woman in an atrocious, drab dress that wasn’t even buttoned properly question her word?
“What’s your name?” the woman asked.
She drew herself up proudly and lied. “Catalina Isabella Anna Maria Borghese d’Agostino.”
The woman looked suitably impressed.
