In Too Deep Read online

  New York Times bestselling author Sherryl Woods blends danger and intrigue in this reader-favorite adventure romance.

  Fearless engineer Cara Scott had set out to discover why her wayward site manager, Rod Craig, hadn’t reported in for weeks. The next thing she knew, she was lost in a steaming Mexican jungle, on the run from danger and locked in sensual battle with her arrogant rogue of an employee. Clearly, she was in over her head!

  A rugged individualist, Rod was used to one-man campaigns. Cara’s interference sparked his ire…and his reluctant ardor. Suddenly, taming—and claiming—this strong-willed woman seemed more important to him than independence. Suddenly, he was in love, in jeopardy, in a sweat—all in all, in way too deep!

  Previously published.

  “I drive you crazy?”

  Cara said, her eyes lighting up with impish interest. “How amazing.”

  “You don’t have to sound so thrilled about it,” Rod muttered.

  “Hey, I would have settled for respect, but since you seem reluctant to bestow that, I’ll take driving you crazy. At least that means you’re hearing me.”

  “Oh, I’m hearing you loud and clear, and I don’t like it one bit.” His voice began to rise. With great restraint he lowered it to what he hoped would be a threatening growl. “Now maybe you’d like to listen to me. You will be on that plane out of here this afternoon if I have to tie you to the seat.”

  “You and whose army?” she inquired, curious.

  “Dammit, woman!”

  “You swear entirely too much.”

  He rubbed his head, which was beginning to pound like the very devil. “Especially since you arrived, princess,” he conceded.

  Dear Reader,

  Magic. It dazzles our senses, sometimes touches our souls. And what could be more magical than romance?

  Silhouette Special Edition novels feature believable, compelling women and men in lifelike situations, but our authors never forget the wondrous magic of falling in love. How do these writers blend believability with enchantment? Author Sherryl Woods puts it this way:

  “More. That’s what Silhouette Special Edition is about. For a writer, this Silhouette line offers a chance to create romances with more depth and complexity, more intriguing characters, more heightened sensuality. In the pages of these wonderful love stories, more sensitive issues can be interwoven with more tenderness, more humor and more excitement. And when it all works, you have what these books are really all about—more magic!”

  Joining Sherryl Woods this month to conjure up half a dozen versions of this “special” magic are Robyn Carr, Debbie Macomber, Barbara Catlin, Maggi Charles and Jennifer Mikels.

  Month after month, we hope Silhouette Special Edition casts its spell on you, dazzling your senses and touching your soul. Are there any particular ingredients you like best in your “love potion”? The authors and editors of Silhouette Special Edition always welcome your comments.

  Sincerely,

  Leslie Kazanjian, Senior Editor

  Silhouette Books

  300 East 42nd Street

  New York, N.Y. 10017

  SHERRYL WOODS

  lives by the ocean, which, she says, provides daily inspiration for the romance in her soul. She further explains that her years as a television critic taught her about steamy plots and humor; her years as a travel editor took her to exotic locations; and her years as a crummy weekend tennis player taught her to stick with what she enjoyed most—writing. “What better way is there,” Sherryl asks, “to combine all that experience than by creating romantic stories?”

  Sherryl Woods Booklist

  The Sweet Magnolias

  Stealing Home

  A Slice of Heaven

  Feels Like Family

  Welcome to Serenity

  Home in Carolina

  Sweet Tea at Sunrise

  Honeysuckle Summer

  Midnight Promises

  Catching Fireflies

  Where Azaleas Bloom

  Swan Point

  Chesapeake Shores

  The Inn at Eagle Point

  Flowers on Main

  Harbor Lights

  A Chesapeake Shores Christmas

  Driftwood Cottage

  Moonlight Cove

  Beach Lane

  An O’Brien Family Christmas

  The Summer Garden

  A Seaside Christmas

  The Christmas Bouquet

  Dogwood Hill

  Willow Brook Road

  The Devaney Brothers

  The Devaney Brothers: Ryan & Sean

  The Devaney Brothers: Michael & Patrick

  The Devaney Brothers: Daniel

  The Calamity Janes

  The Calamity Janes: Cassie & Karen

  The Calamity Janes: Gina & Emma

  The Calamity Janes: Lauren

  The Adams Dynasty

  A Christmas Blessing

  Natural Born Daddy

  The Cowboy and His Baby

  The Rancher and His Unexpected Daughter

  The Littlest Angel

  Natural Born Trouble

  Unexpected Mommy

  The Cowgirl and the Unexpected Wedding

  Natural Born Lawman

  The Unclaimed Baby

  The Cowboy and His Wayward Bride

  Suddenly, Annie’s Father

  The Cowboy and the New Year’s Baby

  Dylan and the Baby Doctor

  The Pint-Sized Secret

  Marrying a Delacourt

  The Delacourt Scandal

  Rose Cottage Sisters

  Three Down the Aisle

  What’s Cooking?

  The Laws of Attraction

  For the Love of Pete

  In Too Deep

  Sherryl Woods

  To Dan...

  for all the adventures

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  PROLOGUE

  William Harrington Scott, what do you think you’re doing?”

  Cara’s outraged voice carried all the way down the hospital corridor. Her father frantically tried to shove what appeared to be an entire file drawer’s contents out of sight under the sheets. Spots of guilty color rose on his pale cheeks.

  “Are you trying to kill yourself?” she demanded, crossing the room in three furious strides and yanking at the sheet. Scottie held on tight. His strength was clearly returning. She was no match for it.

  “Stop acting like a mother hen,” he grumbled. “It’s just a few files.”

  “Hand ’em over.” Retreating from the physical stalemate, she attempted psychological warfare. She simply held out her hand and waited.

  Her wily father was up to that game, too. He folded his arms across his chest in a familiar gesture meant to convey that he was quite capable of outwaiting her. Cara returned his scowl with a pleasant smile. His gaze narrowed.

  “Don’t think you can outfox me, missy. I was getting my way long before you were even born. Now stop all this nonsense and explain to me why there isn’t a report in here from Rod Craig. The Mexicans wanted that dam survey completed by June first.”

  “I’m aware of the deadline,” she retorted defensively, then could have kicked herself for confirming what Scottie had already guessed: the report was overdue by nearly two weeks. Since there seemed no way around the discussion, she added, “There hasn’t been a w
ord from Craig in the last month. I’ve told you before you’ve given the man entirely too much freedom.”

  “He does his job,” Scottie countered, then amended, “usually.”

  His expression grew thoughtful. Thinking he was distracted, Cara made a grab for the thick Usumacinta dam project file from which the Craig report was conspicuously absent. Scottie easily deflected her hands. She put them on her hips and glowered at him.

  “Then why wasn’t that survey on your desk at least three weeks ago?” she demanded. “If it had been, it would have been ready to be passed on to the Mexican government on schedule. Craig knew the deadline. It came and went without so much as a phone call from your reliable protégé. If it had been anyone else, you’d have been bellowing so loud you’d be heard clear across the border.”

  “I don’t like it,” Scottie admitted, letting down his guard. Cara grabbed again and this time she got the folder away from the bed. She clutched it tightly, while her father continued to grumble. “Craig may be a pain in the butt, but he’s never been late on a project before. He sure as hell has kept me informed. Are you sure he hasn’t called? Maybe someone forgot to give you the message.”

  Cara regarded him skeptically. “Louise? You know better. Your secretary is so efficient she could make the airlines run on time.”

  The comment didn’t draw so much as a grin. “I don’t like it one bit, Cara. There’s something weird going on down there or we’d have heard from him by now.”

  He still wasn’t bellowing. In fact, Cara was surprised by the note of genuine concern in her father’s voice. As she regarded him curiously, he scowled at her and made a lunge for the Usumacinta papers. His movements were hindered by the IV attached to his arm. She stepped deftly aside, put the file safely out of reach, then returned to gather up the rest of the reports.

  “Give me back those papers,” Scottie growled, but it was a halfhearted protest.

  “You’re not supposed to be working, Scottie. If I find out who brought these to you, I’m going to fire them.” She knew perfectly well who the guilty party was—Louise. The woman would scale mountains if Scottie asked her to.

  “Dammit, girl, WHS Engineering is still my company.”

  “Assuming you live long enough to run it. Dr. Atkins says you shouldn’t be upset.”

  “Louise wouldn’t have brought those reports if...” His voice floundered guiltily.

  Cara grinned triumphantly. “So that is who it was. I’m not surprised. When are you going to stop asking that lovely lady to do all your dirty work?”

  “Hell’s bells, girl, that’s what I pay her for.”

  “I don’t think she does it for the money,” she retorted, drawing a puzzled look from her father. The man was definitely obtuse. Louise absolutely worshiped the ground he trod on with his muddy boots. Cara, on the other hand, was not such an easy mark. She braced herself for more badgering.

  “I’m telling you the doctor said it would be okay for me to read a little. He told Louise.”

  “Fine. I’ll bring you a mystery.”

  He tried a pathetic look on for size. Cara ignored it. He wheedled. “Come on, Cara. Do this for your old man. You know I hate fiction.”

  “I am doing it for my old man. Maybe it’s time you learned to appreciate Agatha Christie. Maybe, when you’re stronger, some Sidney Sheldon or Jackie Collins. Meantime, I am taking these reports and leaving here so you’ll get some rest.”

  He sagged in defeat. She leaned down then and kissed him, determined to leave before he could see how frightened she was by his unnatural gray pallor, the quick waning of his energy. Before the heart attack, Scottie would have chased her around the room for those files. Now he seemed willing to give up after a relatively mild verbal skirmish.

  She tried to remember how much better he was already, but it didn’t help. Her heart seemed to lodge in her throat every time she walked through the door to his room. Ever since the nearly fatal heart attack had felled her boisterous, vital father four weeks earlier, she’d felt like a child again, terrified by the prospect of being left alone. It had been worse when he’d been in intensive care, lying so incredibly still, the tentative rhythm of his life monitored by machine. She’d tried desperately then to keep her gaze averted from the equipment, but simply holding Scottie’s huge, callused hand in hers had brought tears to her eyes. The faint squeezes he’d given in response to her reassurances had been pale, unsatisfactory imitations of his hearty hugs.

  He really was better now, but the visits still left her shaken. She knew, though, that Scottie would be bewildered by her reaction. Despite its severity, he didn’t see the attack as an ominous sign of his mortality. In fact, he was taking the whole thing in stride, already chomping at the bit to get on with his life. As far as he was concerned this had been no more than a damned inconvenience.

  “Sleep,” she ordered.

  “Who the hell can sleep when people keep hiding things? Get on the phone and find out what’s going on down in Mexico.”

  “I’ll find out, Scottie,” she promised. Then she winked. “But I won’t tell you unless you behave.”

  She spent the next forty-eight hours in a frustrating attempt to get the answers she and her father wanted. Efforts to reach Rod Craig by radiophone proved futile. According to the hotel where he’d based himself in Palenque, he’d been in the field for the past three weeks. They hadn’t heard from him, either.

  She hung up after her last call and stared out the window. Scottie wasn’t going to rest until he knew what was going on. For that matter, neither was she, and it was up to her to find out. She searched her desktop for the scheduling sheet for the engineers on staff. Not a one of them was available for an emergency trip to Mexico.

  If she wanted immediate answers, that left one alternative. She buzzed for Louise.

  “I’m going to Mexico,” she announced, while flipping through the flight schedules she kept on file. “Make the arrangements and get whatever supplies I’ll need. I’ll go home for my passport, pack a bag and be back here in an hour. I want to leave on the afternoon flight.”

  Used to Scottie’s spur-of-the-moment decisions, the attractive brunet secretary never even blinked at Cara’s impromptu plans. She began jotting down Cara’s instructions and added a few of her own.

  “That does it, then,” Louise said, when she was satisfied. Cara grinned at the secretary’s smooth takeover of the planning.

  “I’ll have your ticket when you get back,” Louise promised. She started for the door, then turned back. An expression of concern filled her sparkling brown eyes. “Does your father know?”

  “I’ll call him from the airport.”

  When she made that call several hours later, Scottie was not nearly as enthusiastic about the decision as she’d anticipated he would be. Silence greeted the announcement.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Maybe you should send Mark,” he suggested finally.

  “I thought about that but Mark’s in Brazil. He’s right at a critical stage of the work down there. He couldn’t fly up till the end of the month. We can’t wait that long.”

  “Hank, then.”

  “You know perfectly well that Hank’s in Cairo. Everyone else is tied up, too. I’m going, Scottie. I can be there in twenty-four hours. I can assess things just as well as they can.” That, of course, was the crux of the matter. She still had this ridiculous need to prove herself to her father, to win his approval along with his love.

  He muttered an exasperated curse, and she knew he had seen right through her.

  “Dammit, girl, I know you’re a good engineer or I wouldn’t have made you a vice president, but you ain’t used to tromping around in the jungle.”

  “I’ll manage,” she said with what she hoped was enough confidence to reassure him. “I made that trip to Brazil with you, didn’t I? I didn’t even faint when I found that snake in my bedroll.”

  “No. You just screamed your fool head off till I came running. What�
�ll you do this time? I’m not going to be there.”

  “Scottie, I’m only going for a day or so. As long as I don’t fall into a snake pit, I’ll be just fine.”

  “And what if you do?”

  “Do what?”

  “Fall into a snake pit?”

  “Scottie, I was joking.”

  “I’m not. You don’t know what the hell you’re likely to run into down there. There could be wild savages in that jungle.”

  “We’re talking about Mexico, not the interior of Africa.”

  “Okay, then, bandits.”

  “You’re the one who taught me how to defend myself. I’ve packed my malaria pills. I have a snakebite kit. I’ll buy bottled water and cans of food in Palenque.”

  “Hiking boots?”

  “I have them.”

  “What about a hat?”

  “It’s in my hand.”

  “Mosquito netting?”

  “Scottie, I sent Louise shopping.”

  “Then you have everything.” He sighed, though she wasn’t certain whether it was in resignation or satisfaction.

  “What about Craig, though? How’re you gonna handle him? He’s not like those guys you’re used to ordering around at the office or leading around on a dance floor. He won’t quake in his boots the minute you lift one of those eyebrows the way you do when you’re about to lose your cool.”

  “How difficult can he be? He works for us, not the other way around.”

  “He works for us precisely because I leave him alone to do the job I pay him for. Rod Craig’s his own man, missy, and you’d be doing well not to forget it.”

  It was only after she was in the air that she wondered what the hell her father had meant by that.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Dear God in heaven, there really was a jungle down there, Cara thought, staring out the filthy airplane window with a sort of horrified fascination. Brilliant shades of emerald green splashed across shadowed hues of olive. This wasn’t the idyllic green of an unexpected patch of sunlit grass discovered deep in the forest. Nor was it the rich, darkly mysterious color of rain-soaked valleys in Ireland. This was an endless, undulating sea of tangled vines and elephantine leaves, of impenetrable undergrowth and hidden dangers.