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week’s payday.”
    “Oh.” There was a wealth of understanding in the small word.
    “God, I hate this,” Brad muttered beneath his breath, then squared his shoulders. “Sheila, do you have any money of your own—I mean, besides the trust fund you’ll get when you’re twenty-one? I don’t want you going to your father to borrow any money. It would tear my guts out to elope with you on ‘his’ money.”
    Sheila felt an initial astonishment. He was actually asking her for money. He had always been adamant,almost neurotically so, about not taking any money from her, regardless of how strapped he was. Now he wanted to use her money for them to get married.
    It was a good sign. It meant that she would be able to persuade Brad to use her money and inheritance to further his career without him feeling guilty that he was living off of her. The future looked rosy-bright. Her parents would be upset by the elopement, but Sheila knew they would be won back to her side when her marriage to Brad was presented to them as a fact.
    “I have my own money,” she told him, “a savings account my father set up for me with almost ten thousand dollars in it. It’s supposed to be a practical lesson in the value of money to be used for my living expenses this year.”
    Brad half-turned to look at her. “But is it yours?”
    “Completely my own, with no other signature on the account,” Sheila assured him.
    “Good.” He nodded crisply. “We’ll use that, then. You can draw it out tomorrow and we’ll have that obstacle out of the way.”
    “What about your job and classes?”
    “The classes will have to be skipped and I’ll arrange for Tom to call in sick for me. There isn’t any problem there.” He raked a hand through his thick blond hair. “We both have things to do today. I’d better be leaving so we both can get some sleep.”
    “Do you have to go?” Sheila sighed.
    “This time.” He nodded. “I’ll meet you this afternoon at four in front of the hotel and we can decide on what time we’ll meet and where.” His mouth touched hers briefly. “And, remember, not a word about our plans to anyone. I’m not going to take any chance of it filtering back to your parents.”
    “Yes,” she agreed reluctantly.
    “Remember to lock the door,” he said, then smiled broadly. “Just think, honey, in a little more than twenty-four hours we’ll be on our way to Mexico.”
    A brief smile touched her lips. When he withdrew his arm from around her shoulders, Sheila felt cold. Thedisquieting sensation increased as Brad slipped into the night and she closed and locked the door behind him. She was shivering as she crawled into bed. Bridal nerves, Sheila told herself.

Chapter 3
    In a Juárez hotel room, Sheila smiled at the telephone receiver. “Yes, that is what I said, Mother.” And she repeated the statement she had made seconds ago. “Brad and I were married twenty minutes ago by an official of the Civil Registry.”
    Brad stood beside her, his arm curved possessively around her shoulders. Sheila directed her smile to her husband’s handsome face. His touch was warming the confusing coolness that had plagued her all day. In retrospect, her apprehension seemed silly.
    “Don’t be so upset, Mother. Brad and I are going to be very happy. We’re going to have a two-day honeymoon in Juárez; then we’ll be home. We simply loved each other too much to wait.”
    When the explanations were over, she turned into the circle of Brad’s arms, his hands locking together near the small of her back.
    His mouth moved over the thick mane of tawny hair near her forehead. “Were they angry?”
    “No,” Sheila answered as she studied the plain goldband on her ring finger. “There weren’t any heavy recriminations, just an unspoken disappointment that we didn’t tell them before.”
    “I’m glad.” Brad drew his head back to look at her. “I am glad for you,” he elaborated to remove any indication of hypocrisy that he