Captive Heart Read Online Free

wouldn't hurt to take a few lessons from her."
    The cold, hard glint in his green eyes had vanished. Something else, quite unfathomable, had taken its place.
    In spite of his patronizing, superior, macho attitude toward her—referring to her as a "mere girl"—he now was willing to concede that she knew how to handle an airplane. At least he was big enough to give that much to her.
    "I'll send my car for you," Del Toro said. He shook Uncle Edgar's hand. Then he turned to JoNell and took her hand. He bent over it, and his lips brushed her fingers. Her arm was limp and her fingers burned where his lips had touched.
    But when he raised his head, his green eyes met hers and the expression of amused scorn was clearly visible again. His sudden cordiality was a surface gesture. He was mocking her, and he wanted her to know it! He would stick to his part of the bargain, accepting her as his flying instructor, but he would continue to look on her as no more than an amusing child.
    He's insufferable, she thought. An ego as big as his should be stuffed and put on display in a museum. I despise him. I'll give him his darn flying lessons because we need the money and then take the fastest plane back home!
    Del Toro gave a perfunctory parting bow, then turned and strode from the small airport office.
    The door opened again almost immediately and a short, round man who wore a waxed mustache bounced in. He bowed graciously over a rotund stomach. "Miguel Sanchez,
a su servida
."
    "That means 'at your service'," JoNell translated.
    "The car," Miguel indicated with a gesture.
    JoNell and Uncle Edgar walked out ahead of the chauffeur to a long, black limousine. Miguel leaped ahead of them, swept open the back door with a flourish. The seat was filled with red roses. Miguel smiled broadly, his chubby face aglow. "
Las rosas
— they are for the seňorita."
    JoNell sucked in her breath. Delight swept through her. For a moment she was speechless, then she gasped, "There must be dozens!"
    "You like, seňorita?" Miguel beamed.
    "Oh, yes. I adore flowers!" she exclaimed.
    Obviously, they were a gift from Del Toro, arranged as a welcoming gesture when he thought she was to be a guest in his home while her father taught him flying. The flowers had no personal meaning. They were simply a matter of Latin protocol. He'd probably had a secretary take care of the matter, and he might not even remember he had left orders for the flowers to be delivered. Never mind; she'd enjoy the flowers for themselves.
    JoNell scrambled into the back seat, exclaiming over the huge bouquet. "Why, there must be a hundred roses here, Uncle Edgar," she sighed. "I've never seen anything like it!"
    "Pretty near fills up the back seat, doesn't it?" Uncle Edgar observed.
    Miguel twirled the pointed ends of his mustache, bowed again, then scurried around to the driver's seat.
    JoNell picked one of the long-stemmed roses from the array and sniffed the sweet fragrance.
    The ride to Del Toro's estate was delightful compared to her encounter with the arrogant Del Toro. Miguel entertained them with funny stories in his broken English mixed with Spanish. When necessary, JoNell translated for Uncle Edgar.
    Miguel drove like a maniac. JoNell giggled nervously, thinking that she had felt safer flying through the pass in the Andes at 13,000 feet! Everyone drove like that in Peru, Miguel explained. Through the window, JoNell saw other drivers wildly cutting in front of each other, making sudden, tire burning stops at red lights, waving angry fists and calling insults at each other. But in spite of all the emotional confrontations on the road, Miguel assured JoNell and Uncle Edgar that Peruvians had very few wrecks. Most of the cars on the road were older models since automobiles were quite costly in Peru. So the local citizens were careful not to bang up their prized transportation.
    As Miguel took them through the city, JoNell was conscious of the contrast between colonial architecture and