Protector Of Convenience (Rogue Protectors Book 2)

by Victoria Paige

  But something stopped him.

  A little voice telling him to tread carefully.

  He kissed his way up her body and then captured her lips again, giving her a taste of herself. She wrenched her lips away. “Migs … Migs …” Her neediness clawed at him, her legs rounding him and keeping him pinned to her. His cock at her entrance ready to take possession.

  “Ari,” he murmured.

  Her eyes opened fully, glazed with the same heat he was feeling.

  “I want this to mean something,” he said quietly. “So, I’m not going to fuck you right now.”

  “What?”

  His forehead dropped to hers as his body sagged. A rumble of a chuckle vibrated in his chest. “Funny, isn’t it?” The way they were positioned in bed was too provocative for him to state what he wanted to say with conviction. So, Migs levered away from her and sat on the side of the bed. “I want to make you mine in every way, Ariana Walker. I had full intention of leaving you alone until we got to know each other more, but you walked out of that bathroom and I lost control.”

  Ariana sat on the bed and placed the pajama bottoms over her pelvis, covering the temptation between her legs. “So the shirtless look and the unbuttoned jeans weren’t your intent to seduce me?”

  Migs bowed his head, and gave her a look, catching his bottom lip with his teeth as he tried to deny it, but he couldn’t. “Not starting this marriage on a lie, so yes, I fully intended to seduce you.”

  “And now you’re getting cold feet.” A delicate brow arched.

  “Damn, babe, you’re making me sound like the frightened virgin.”

  She laughed and then caught herself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to rain on your machismo.”

  “Stop that.”

  “But why? You may be half-American but your other half is pure Mexican machismo. That’s why you’re so bossy.”

  “When have I ever been that?”

  “Hmm… let me see. The time you forced me into hiding? Then when you came back you wouldn’t take no for an answer until I got into the car with you.”

  “I wouldn’t have forced things if I didn’t know you secretly enjoyed it when I get all bossy and shit.”

  “Are you saying I’m playing hard to get?”

  “No, I’m saying I like your drama.”

  Her eyes slitted. “Be careful what you wish for.” Ariana’s expression grew thoughtful. “Before you effectively seduced me with that hair massage, you never told me what Garrison said.”

  Migs debated how much to tell her. “They did find those syringes that you mentioned but getting you hooked on drugs didn’t seem to be the objective.”

  “Doesn’t make sense, does it?”

  “Nope. Garrison’s digging deeper.” Migs stood and walked over to his duffle, slinging it over his shoulder. “Make a list of what you need and we can either go to a shop tomorrow or get what we need online.”

  “Are we supposed to use credit cards?”

  “You forget I have five sisters.”

  The way Ariana was looking at him made him shift on his feet and made the wall suddenly interesting.

  “Before I met your family, I couldn’t imagine you with five sisters,” she said huskily.

  His attention returned to her and their gazes locked. “And now?”

  “Now I understand where that marshmallow part of you comes from.”

  He scowled. “Marshmallow? That’s insulting.”

  “Migs, I find it very endearing.” Those words and the dazzling smile she shot him became his undoing. He needed space from this woman who had the ability to spin his emotions on a dime.

  He was falling for his wife.

  Fast.

  10

  Ariana came awake to a kiss on her brow, her eyes opening to a blurry image of Migs leaning over her. His hair was wet and stuck out in short tousled spikes. The woodsy notes of cedar and leather tickled her nose. The familiar scent of Migs was a welcome comfort while she took in her unfamiliar surroundings. It was morning, the rays of the sun peeking through the slats of the blinds behind him. The unexpected crow of a rooster added to her disorientation which, thankfully, was temporary as she swam past the surface of sleep-hazed consciousness and remembered the night before. Miguel’s family, dinner in an expansive kitchen, but her thoughts were dominated by what followed after.

  “Hi,” she whispered.

  “Good morning, babe. Sleep okay?”

  “Like a baby. You?”

  He shrugged. “All right.”

  He slept beside her on the floor again, but unlike the hotel’s carpet, hardwood was not as forgiving. The couch in the room was longer than the one in Vegas, but with the width of his shoulders, it wouldn’t be comfortable either.

  “Migs, it’s ridiculous for you to sleep on the floor. This bed is big enough for both of us.” He backed up a bit as she sat up and leaned against the headboard, rubbing her eyes to erase the last remnants of sleep.

  “Are you sure that’s going to be okay with you?” His head dipped slightly as he peered up at her.

  “After what happened between us last night? It’ll be silly for you to torture yourself. And don’t lie about sleeping, okay? Those dark circles under your eyes say otherwise.”

  “Sure you can resist me, babe?” He smirked.

  Her brow arched. “Seems you’re the one who can’t resist keeping his hands to himself.” Her mouth curved into an impish smile. “I bet your shower this morning was because you couldn’t forget about last night either. What you did to me down there?” She dipped her chin.

  His eyes widened and his throat bobbed.

  What are you doing, Ariana? She was careful about flirting. She wouldn’t say she was a beauty queen, but she’d gotten into awkward situations in her teenage and young adult years with men. She’d been called a tease. A puta. And the worst part was when Raul got wind of it and made that offender disappear. She carried guilt from that too. But with Migs, she was discovering an inner siren, and she reveled in it. He was her husband after all, she thought possessively.

  “What’s the matter, Miguel?” she asked. “Cat got your tongue?”

  A slow smile chased away the shadows under his eyes, and he leaned forward to kiss her.

  “No!” She put a hand to his mouth. “We need to establish ground rules!”

  He reared back, brows knitting together. “Ground rules?”

  “One, no kissing upon waking up. Both of us need to rinse our mouths.”

  “Wow, that’s—”

  Ariana shot out of bed. A pet peeve of hers coming to the fore. “I know we see it in movies all the time … they wake up, they kiss. I’m like ewww … brush your teeth or use mouthwash. You will say that I smell heavenly.” She waved her arm with flourish. “Or I smell like roses. You’ll say anything so you can have morning sex—”

  She stopped because Migs was cracking up, and he was actually swiping at the corners of his eyes.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” he said, still choking with laughter. “Go on—”

  “I don’t know if I should. What are you finding so funny?”

  He cleared his throat even when his eyes still danced with mirth. “Nothing, babe. It’s just … you’re very particular about morning breath.” His face turned serious, but the twitches of his lips gave him away. “What if I want to wake you up with my mouth?”

  Heat pulsed between her legs, the little bud of her womanhood awakened to his lusty proposition, and she had to squeeze her thighs. “What? Like kiss me all over?” Her voice turned husky.

  He stood and moved closer; she stepped back, mouth dry.

  “Waking you up with an orgasm. I’m going straight for the prize between your legs, babe.”

  “Oh.” It was her turn to swallow. “You’re still not kissing me on the mouth, right?”

  “I don’t know, that might follow.”

  “Hmm …”

  “So what’s the second rule?”

  “I ha
ven’t gotten that far yet. I’ll think of something.” She spun around and padded barefoot to the bathroom to freshen up, just in case he had the crazy idea to steal a kiss. She wouldn’t put it past him. With four younger sisters, she could imagine him as a merciless jokester, and yet she could see him as a staunch protector, too.

  That was Raul and Jose. Tears brimmed her eyes as she stood in front of the mirror. They were both gone. How was it she had two brothers and she lost them both to the narcos. Jose—she could have prevented.

  Migs appeared in the reflection of the mirror, leaning against the doorframe. His smile faded as he took in her expression. “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head, grabbed her toothbrush, and started her morning ritual. Migs waited patiently for her to finish. He wasn’t going anywhere until she answered him. Her husband was that stubborn.

  “I thought about you with your sisters, and I remembered my brothers, okay?”

  “Ariana …”

  She couldn’t stand the pity on his face. There was no question Raul may have deserved his violent end, but every time she thought of Jose, her heart couldn’t help aching at the thought of a wasted life. A life of promise.

  “I’m okay.” She walked to the door and gripped its edge. “Now scoot. I need to pee.”

  Ten minutes later, they both headed to the kitchen for breakfast. Coffee was already brewing and Leon, who Ariana realized was the man talking to Tessa’s husband yesterday, was instructing one of the girls to fetch Abbi Mena.

  Unlike the night before where they had dinner at the table in the alcove, the farm table directly in front of the kitchen counters was set for breakfast. Platters of sunny-side-up eggs, sausages, and other breakfast meats were covered with wire mesh domes similar to the ones used for a picnic. Leon handed them each a mug of coffee.

  “Gracias, Leon,” Migs said and immediately took a sip.

  Ariana thanked the older man as well.

  “Your Pops wants to see you in the office after breakfast,” Leon said.

  “His office here?”

  “Yes.”

  They exchanged a bit of small talk before Leon left the kitchen through the door leading to the patio.

  “Your father works early,” Ariana commented.

  “Michoacán is two hours ahead.” Migs peeked under the wire-mesh dome at the food and scrunched up his nose. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for old-fashioned cereal and milk.”

  He stood and disappeared into a pantry or what amounted to a whole room. Curious, Ariana followed him and lounged against the frame of the open door, marveling at the shelving made of roughened wood, giving the space a rustic and frontier-like flare. In front of the shelving were sacks of heirloom corn of different colors, a good variety of beans, coffee, and crates of avocado. Off to one corner a leg of ham hung from the ceiling. Meanwhile Migs approached holding a box of Wheaties.

  He laughed at the disapproval in her eyes as he passed her back into the kitchen. “What?”

  “There’s so much food and that’s what you’re going to eat?”

  “Don’t worry. Food won’t go to waste. That’s also for the workers in Abbi Mena’s garden.”

  “Workers? How big is her garden?”

  “She has a field of different heirloom corns, so yeah, it’s big.”

  “How about your sisters?”

  “Tessa doesn’t live here. They have a house a block away, but they usually come for dinner after working at the warehouse.”

  “She works there too?”

  “Yes.”

  “And Bella?”

  “All three of my sisters work there, but Bella usually goes in late. Lettie not so much, only when they need an extra hand. She prefers working in the field with abuelita.”

  “Huh,” Ariana said as she sat down and sipped her coffee. While Migs rummaged through the fridge for milk, she mulled over her impression of his sisters.

  Tessa seemed as bossy as Migs and had expensive taste in food. Bella seemed to be the fun-loving one. Ariana couldn’t make up her mind about Lettie yet, she seemed like the quiet one who thought before she spoke. And if she was out with Abbie Mena, maybe Lettie was the one following her grandmother’s philosophy of farm-to-table.

  Just as Migs came back with two types of milk, a loaf, and white queso, his grandmother and Lettie entered the kitchen.

  Each was wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat and long-sleeved shirt, both toting a shallow basket laden with ears of corn.

  “We’re going to have a good harvest,” Abbie Mena declared.

  “Is that so?” Migs quipped.

  His grandmother lowered the basket on the kitchen counter and picked up an ear, peeling back the husk and exposing the kernel. “Firm and plump, right, Lettie?”

  His sister nodded.

  “The peppers are coming along well too.”

  “Don’t make them too spicy, Mamá.” Drew strode into the kitchen.

  Abbi Mena glanced over at Ariana. “I need to have different sections for peppers. Everyone in this family wants different heat levels.”

  “I like them hot,” Migs said, without skipping a beat. “So dry them up for me.”

  “I’m with your Pops,” Ariana said. “I don’t like it too spicy either.”

  “Drew likes mild.” Abbi Mena headed over to the sink to wash her hands. “He only likes jalapeños very watered down.”

  “No, he’ll eat a Chipotle,” Lettie corrected. “That’s as far as he would go.”

  “Lettie, go wash your hands so we can start eating,” Abbi Mena said as she dried her own with the kitchen towel and sat at the table.

  “Where’s Mamá?” Migs asked.

  Drew removed the cover from the platters and glanced at his son. “You’ve been gone a long time. You forget Delia’s ritual on Friday mornings?”

  “Ah, Market Fridays,” Migs explained to Ariana. “She visits the wet market and stops by the Farmer’s one too.”

  “I told her I could send a muchacho to get what she needed.” Drew took his seat at the head of the table. “And sometimes she’s okay with that, but you’re here with a new wife and the twins are coming home from Berkeley this weekend, too.”

  “You’ll meet double-trouble,” Lettie said.

  “Don’t go scaring my new bride away.”

  “She’s not a bride yet because you didn’t have a wedding,” a voice from the entrance joined the conversation. Bella shuffled into the kitchen wearing fluffy slippers and matching designer sweatpants and hoodie. She kissed Drew on the cheek and did the same to her grandmother.

  “Yes, we did,” Migs shot back.

  “Having Elvis declare you man and wife does not count as a wedding.” Bella plopped down in the chair to the left of Ariana, and beside her dad.

  “Tell that to the thousands of brides and grooms for whom he did,” Migs countered and Ariana’s head swung back to him. “And just to be clear. It was Tony Montana who married us.”

  Bella rolled her eyes. “That’s even worse.”

  “You both know arguing about this won’t get anywhere.” Drew pointedly looked at his son, an amused glint in his eyes.

  Like a tennis match, Ariana’s head swung back to the left.

  “Just teasing Bella, Pops.”

  “Your just teasing could send her into tears.”

  Bella rolled her eyes again. “Pops, that was four years ago. I’m not eighteen anymore.”

  “Yes, but it was like World War III exploded,” Lettie piped in and swallowed a giggle, nudging Abbi Mena on her left, who gave a shake of her head.

  Curious, Ariana asked Bella. “What happened four years ago?”

  “I dyed my hair pink to impress a guy in a rock band.” Migs’ sister picked up a tortilla from a warming basket and handed the container to Ariana. “He was having a party at his house and it was an eighties theme, so big hair, right? Migs comes home after four months of absence. I was excited to see him, too. You know the first thing he said when he saw me?”


  Everyone was quiet at the table as Bella paused dramatically. “‘Damn, sis, did a cotton candy factory explode on your head?’”

  Ariana’s mouth fell open as she twisted her head disbelievingly at her husband who was quietly shaking with laughter, his face turning red.

  “Miguel!” she admonished.

  “What?” Migs said in a defensive voice. “I didn’t know she was going out on a date.”

  “Well, guess what, jerk-face? You ruined the evening.” Bella leaned forward and glared at her brother.

  “She wouldn’t stop crying and her eyes got all swollen,” Lettie supplied.

  “But months later you said that the gringo was not a good man, right, mi amor?” This from Abbi Mena. Ariana was starting to see her role in the family. She was the equalizer, the referee, the person who knew when to steer the subject back to even ground.

  “He turned out to be a player,” Bella admitted grudgingly. “Got two girls pregnant.”

  “Oh boy,” Ariana said.

  “You just saved your brother from doing time, because I sure as hell would’ve put him in the ground,” Migs growled.

  Bella cocked her head in her brother’s direction. “Love you, big brother.”

  The affection passing between brother and sister was palpable. It made Ariana’s heart clench with a yearning for a relationship she would never have again. As the Alcantara-Walker family broke their fast, she wondered if being around them was a good idea or if it would end in heartbreak once her marriage to Migs was over.

  11

  “Cocaine in the avocado trucks?”

  After breakfast, Miguel’s father asked him to step into his office for a chat. He thought Pops was going to grill him about Ariana, but he didn’t expect the bomb Drew Walker dropped on him.

  “Yes, I don’t know how long this has been going on under our noses. My meeting with Joaquín this morning yielded no answers either. He’s adamant the coke didn’t originate in Michoacán.”

  “Agreed. The people of Cayetano fought too hard to let the cartels back in.”