by Bethany-Kris
Chris nodded. “Water would be great.”
“I’ll just be a minute.”
The woman was quick to stand from the bench, giving Valeria a quiet word that Chris wasn’t able to hear, before disappearing into the back of the house. He walked closer to the porch, coming to a stop on the bottom step, but not moving further. It was enough for him to let Valeria know he would engage her though.
That’s all he wanted.
“You like wine?” he asked.
Valeria smiled, glancing down at the glass in her hand. “Not particularly, but I do like getting away from my house for an hour. Abril is one of the few people I can relax with like this without ... having to hear about it.”
He heard what she didn’t say.
Chris didn’t call it out.
Shrugging, she was quick to add, “She loves wine, and likes to try new ones. I indulge her. This one isn’t so bad.”
Chris noted the color of the remaining liquid in her glass. “A white wine is good for a hot night under the stars, but hell, so is vodka.”
Valeria laughed.
Freely.
She tossed her head back with a laugh, surprised by his frank statement. To be fair, the way the woman looked in the moonlight as she laughed equally shocked him. The russet tones in her golden skin were more clear, her dimmed gaze brightened, and those pretty lips of hers curved in the most beautiful way in her easy joy.
He wondered if she didn’t get to do that enough.
Laugh, that was.
Not wanting to make her uncomfortable with his staring when she quieted, Chris cleared his throat, and glanced up at the inky sky. “I don’t think I can appreciate the size of this place at night, but by the time I settled in after arriving, it was already dark.”
“They haven’t given you a proper tour yet?”
“Tomorrow.”
“I’m sure you’ll appreciate what they’ve done here. Men who visit typically do.”
He didn’t miss the edge to her tone.
“And that’s what you assume I am, then? A man like them?”
Valeria’s gaze darted to his.
Chris arched a brow, challenging her to say whatever was on her mind instead of alluding to it. Absolutes, he could work with. Hints, not so much.
“You know what my husband is—what he does,” Valeria said quietly, “and because I know why you’re here, to make a deal with him, there’s only one thing for me to assume about you, too.”
“Shame you think that, then.”
Valeria’s throat jumped when she swallowed. “Why is that?”
“Appearances are deceiving. And bad men don’t always do bad things. Sometimes, they do good things, too.”
“Don’t they?”
How simple that question seemed.
The answer was anything but.
Unfortunately, Chris’s life had taught him that no matter what he said here, she would find it most difficult to believe him. Because her experiences were not the same as his. Her life taught her one thing, and that’s what she understood.
It was his duty to show her differently.
That was the thing, right?
Actions spoke louder than words.
“We’ll see,” he said.
Valeria opened her mouth as though she would reply, but all it took was Abril coming back out from the rear of the house for her to quiet. Abril came down the stairs, a glass of water for Chris in one hand, and a refill of wine in the other for her.
“Thank you,” he said.
Abril nodded. “You know, in my experience, it’s always what motivates a man that determines whether his actions are justifiable. What do you think, Chris?”
Huh.
Seems someone had been listening.
He smirked. “I would say you’re right.”
“I usually am.”
• • •
Although Chris was in Mexico with the Lòpez cartel for a reason, he could still appreciate and respect the set up they had here. The ranch itself was almost a small community. In the middle, a cluster of homes sat in a large circle, all connected by pathways and gravel driveways. Another two barns also sat further in the property, along with stables.
For horses, apparently.
The cocaine, the man showing Chris around explained, they made and packaged it for shipping in Colombia where the cartel had gained control over production. They moved the substance between several locations—the ranch being one—to store before a smuggle run, which was a different story, and something Chris would get details on later.
“It’s important,” the man—Jesús, was it?—said as they stepped out of the house that Chris would use for his stay, “that the cartel maintains its control over territory, and distribution. Territory is the issue we’ve been having for a while, because of the García organization.”
Right.
The cartel that controlled the lower portion of Mexico, and for a while, had tried to take control of the production in Colombia.
“We’re working on that,” the man said before Chris could ask further.
He wasn’t that interested in the cartel, or their business. Cartels were complex criminal organizations, but he had a good enough grasp on the details to know how they worked. The lengths the family went to in order to maintain their privacy and control fascinated him, but he didn’t really care.
Yet, he had to pretend to.
Fun.
Chris’s entire purpose here rested on a ruse, and him being able to keep it up. The longer he could stay in the Lòpezs’ presence, gather as much information about their lives and business, the better chance he had at getting Valeria and her daughter out of here alive. So, he continued to ask questions, and allow the man to take him around the ranch when what he wanted was a goddamn nap.
As far as the Lòpez family, and Jorge, understood ... Chris was here because his father was anal on every single detail in business. Most, if not all, organizations would not be willing to indulge the demands Gian had made for this deal, but because the Lòpez cartel needed something from the Guzzis—the arrangement for a cocaine supply between them would be in the hundreds of millions a year—they would play along.
But for how long?
That was the real question.
As they walked along a pathway leading toward the biggest house on the property, something in the corner of his eye caught Chris’s attention. A familiar woman came out of the stables with a saddle in her hands that she tossed onto a fence to hold it up before turning back to disappear inside the building.
Valeria.
For a second, Chris felt as though he could breathe a little better. Sure, he had seen her the night before, but he hadn’t felt safe asking her questions about her safety here when prying ears were nearby. All week, he had worried about that woman, and what might happen to her. It left him with little sleep, and more restless nights than he cared to admit. And when he slept, images of her beautifully sad face filled his mind.
Not that he needed to be dreaming about that woman at all, or how she had looked with her curves filling out a dress, heels to show off long, golden legs, and black hair pin-straight falling down her back. Because no, he didn’t need those images in his mind alongside the concern he already had for her.
This was a problem waiting to happen.
Obviously.
It was a little relieving for him to see her looking well and happy in the daylight. He still wanted to speak to her—get close, look her in the eyes, and make sure things were okay. It wasn’t a game he should play, and nothing good would come out of the fact he had a growing emotional attachment to this job, but whatever.
Chris was who he was.
Someone who cared.
He gave a fuck.
Before he reconsidered, he asked the man ahead of him, “Can we go inside the stables?”
“Didn’t you want a drink?”
“Sure, soon. The stables?”
“Why not?”
He e
xpected his current guard to follow him inside the stables, as that had been his entire tour today in a nutshell, but someone called the guy’s name just as they came up to the entrance where one could hear the horses hooves scuffing the floor inside.
“Jesús, venir!”
Chris had no idea what the man across the way was shouting to his guard, but whatever it was, Jesús was quick to give him a nod before he said, “I’ll be back in a moment—you’re good to look around, sí?”
“Perfectly fine,” Chris replied.
Even better that he got to do it alone, now.
“Do not wander off.”
“Of course, not.”
He was right where he wanted to be.
As soon as Jesús’s back was turned, Chris headed inside the stables. His gaze swept the space, taking in the horses, and the equipment lining one wall. A bucket of apple slices rested on the floor near one station, and the scent of animals and hay clung to the air with every breath he drew in.
Another time, and he might have admired the stables, and the beautiful creatures it housed. He always had a healthy appreciation for horses and had gone riding a time or two in the past. But as he was running low on time, and couldn’t chance getting caught alone with Valeria, he didn’t bother to enjoy the stables.
Instead, he found the woman in question down the corridor stepping into a stall beside a white and beige speckled horse.
“Ah, caballo,” Valeria said as the sounds of a brush being dragged over the horse’s hide echoed from the stall, “you’re a bonito boy today. You like the brush, huh?”
Chris didn’t even hesitate, simply headed down the corridor, and slipped into the stall where Valeria was brushing the horse down. Her gaze flew to him, her eyes widening as her pink lips fell open in a perfect O at the sight of him. No, he certainly didn’t have time to admire the stables, or to have small talk, but he enjoyed the sight of this woman in front of him in her surprise.
There was something beautiful about that.
About her.
“You can’t be in here,” she blurted, her breath gone.
Chris leaned back enough to peek out the stall which gave him a perfect view of the stable doors that were still wide open. “No one is here to stop me.”
His stare went back to her.
She swallowed hard.
“What do you want?”
“To talk,” he replied.
Valeria took a little step back, but she didn’t have very far to go. The horse next to them pranced in place wanting his attention back with that brush. “Do you understand that my husband will hurt—”
“Oh, he’s made it clear what he intends to do if I get too close to you, yes.”
She chewed on her bottom lip, those dark brown eyes of hers—like melting pools of russet—drifting over him like she wasn’t sure what to do with Chris. “That’s fine and great for you,” she returned, “but I am more concerned about what he might do to me.”
That made Chris stiffen.
“He hurts you?”
Valeria’s cheek twitched. “I ... I shouldn’t talk about it.”
“Yeah,” he said, taking one step closer to her as he spoke, “I’m not at all worried about your husband, Val. He’s a problem—an issue for me to take care of. I’m not even here for him, not really.”
Her gaze locked onto his.
Chris stepped close enough to her that her back hit the wall of the stall, and she needed to stare up at him. There was no getting away now, and he wanted something to be very clear to her. For one, because he needed for her to trust him. And for two, because this would only work if she understood what was about to happen.
“W-what are you doing?” she whispered.
Chris hadn’t intended to crowd Valeria because he wanted to make her uncomfortable, but because he needed to make sure she wouldn’t run, not when he had the chance to do this. The funny thing?
She wasn’t uncomfortable.
Not in the slightest.
Staring at him, those pupils of hers blew wide, showcasing his own reflection back to him. Her tongue peeked out to wet the seam of her lips, the action making his chest grow tight with something unusual—lust. That was before he noticed the way she looked him over, curious, yet wary, and still with interest. He bet if he touched her pulse point at her throat, he’d find her sweet heart racing like crazy.
What are you doing?
Get out of your head, asshole.
Focus.
His thoughts brought him back to the present, but barely. Because now, he concerned himself with the way Valeria’s skinny jeans molded to her shapely legs, and the low dip of her flimsy blouse that gave a peek at the valley between her breasts. Her skin, the golden sheen dotting it, pebbled from his attention, and he had the greatest urge to touch her, or God forbid ... fucking taste her.
Wow.
Valeria made a small noise.
Chris’s gaze flew back up to hers. “What’s that for?”
“Me? What is that for?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The way you stare at me ...”
Chris’s brow furrowed. “You’re an exceptionally beautiful woman. Does no one tell you that?”
“You shouldn’t.”
Hadn’t she learned, yet?
“But I still did.”
She sucked in a shaky breath. “It has been a long time since someone looked at me like that.”
“Shame, that,” he murmured. “Beautiful things should be admired by the ones who care for them, and they should be told often of their worth and value.”
Valeria dropped his stare. “I’m not worth very much here.”
“Or is it you aren’t valued?”
Their stares met again.
Chris inched closer, because he wanted her pressed against the wall, and also because something at the neckline of her shirt had caught his attention. A mark that marred her skin, but he had to be sure. Lifting his hand, a shiver that raced through Valeria when his fingertips glided along the fabric of her blouse to move it aside.
Sure enough ...
He found three bruises there, a dark red that told him they were recent. He made a rough noise under his breath, though it came out thick between them and loaded with things he wasn’t sure he should say yet. Perhaps a part of him had still assumed this woman might want to be here, but he doubt she wanted to also be abused.
Now, he didn’t wonder at all.
“I’m not here for your husband,” Chris said quietly, meeting Valeria’s stare again, but not dropping his hand to stop from touching her. He liked the heat of her body, and the silkiness of her skin, and considering the way she trembled, and her breaths came out harder while she watched him, he could tell she liked it, too. “Despite what they might say, I didn’t come here for them. I came for you.”
“What does that mean?”
He didn’t have time.
It was a long story, and they didn’t have the minutes needed to tell it. Time was already running out for their little moment here.
“Who did this?” he asked, his fingers sweeping over the bruises.
“Take a guess.”
“Jorge?”
“Regularly.”
“Last night?”
“This morning,” she breathed.
The dark, violent urge that swept through him seemed destructive, and reckless. He wanted nothing more than to feed into it and hurt the man who put his hands on his wife. Whether she was property to Jorge didn’t factor in at all—no man should hurt their spouse, ever.
Full stop.
“I’m sorry,” Chris said, his thumb sweeping to the side, across her collarbone. That shiver in her body followed the same path, and her lips parted again like she might say something to him. All he wondered was what it might be like to kiss this woman—something else he had no business doing.
Well, so much for that.
He had broken all the rules, now.
“I want to kiss you,” he
said. “Can I?”
She sucked in a hard breath, but nodded once. Chris closed the distance between them in a blink, catching Valeria’s mouth with his own in a soft, yet still burning kiss. She never hesitated to kiss him back, her lips working against his, like she found something that was pure heaven to her senses. His tongue struck against the seam of her lips, demanding more, and she gave it to him willingly.
Beautifully.
Her fist found his shirt, and she dragged him closer as a war raged on between them. It was strange, in a way. Kissing someone had never been a battle before, to hand over himself to her, and see what happened after that.
And yet, that’s what it seemed like. She tasted of cherries, and vanilla. Sweetness, and sin.
Chris backed Valeria into the stable wall again, the horse shifting beside them as her palms found his jaw, and he dragged her closer with his. There was something intoxicating about this woman, and he wanted to find out what. Not that he had enough time to do it.
The sound of boots crunching against gravel had Chris taking a wide step back from Valeria. He didn’t have a clue what came over him, but as he stared at her still pressed to the wall, her fingertips hovering over her lips like she wanted to feel his kiss, he didn’t regret what just happened.
Even if it was dangerous ... and stupid.
The questions in her eyes stared back at him. He couldn’t answer them now.
“Chris?”
He gave her a pointed stare and took two steps backwards out of the stall to find the man from earlier—Jesús—glancing down the stables. He smiled at the man, thankful that he learned how to mimic his twin’s, Corrado, natural ability to remain calm in all situations. Even when his heart raged out of control.
“Just admiring the horse,” Chris said. “Can we get that drink, now?”
Jesús nodded. “Absolutely, and Jorge called, too. He invited you to dinner with him if you’re hungry.”
Chris headed for the man, forcing himself not to glance back into the stall at Valeria as he did so. “Food would be great.”
And so was the flavor of Valeria Lòpez still lingering in his mouth.
Fuck.
9.
“Easy, easy.”
Valeria’s attempt to soothe the broken horse worked. Abril came out here in the field and worked with the horse to make it rideable, but after a bad fall from the horse throwing her from the saddle ... well, she was hesitant to approach the animal so soon.
