by Elisabeth Naughton, Cynthia Eden, Katie Reus, Alexandra Ivy, Laura Wright, Joan Swan
That cooled his temper pretty quick. He dropped her jacket and straightened. Heat burned in his eyes and simmered in his voice when he asked, “How much of it was true?”
She knew exactly what he was talking about. Smiled a little dreamily. “Mmmm, the kissing part. You are quite…masterful…with that mouth. The rest…?” She shrugged. “You’ll never know, will you?”
His lips thinned. He turned away, put a hand to Caesar’s chest, and pushed the other man back several feet, then said something under his breath. Caesar argued in a low tone and gave Rio’s arm a shove, but Rio finished whatever he had to say. Only then did he release Caesar and exit the restaurant without looking back.
Cassie watched him go, her body blazing, her heart pounding. She skimmed his faded maroon T-shirt and the way it stretched across shoulders so wide the fabric draped loose at his waist. God, he looked edible—in that brownie-fudge-Sunday-so-bad-for-you way.
Another man stopped him on the street. He was about Rio’s age, his forearms covered with tattoos flowing together in swirls of color. The man had a well-trimmed beard and a tight crew cut.
“Sorry.” Caesar approached the table. “If I’d known Rio was going to be here, I’d have waited until he was gone.”
“Have a seat, Caesar.” Cassie gestured toward the seat Rio had vacated. “Why is that?”
“He doesn’t like me.” The man slid into the booth and set big, scarred hands on the table. After a glance over the other faces nearby, he said, “I used to run with a few coyotes, you know, back in the day. Rough ones. I didn’t know no better, was just a stupid kid. Do anything for cigarette money. Didn’t have nothing to do with what happened to his sister, you know? But guilt by association, I guess. Can’t say I blame him, but he can’t never see me without sayin’ somethin’.”
Cold flashed in Cassie’s stomach. “His sister? What happened to his sister?”
Caesar looked around again. His head sank lower. His eyes crept deeper beneath hooded brows. “Uh, nothin’. Nothin’. Doesn’t like nobody talkin’ ’bout it.” He tapped the table with his knuckles. “So what kind of information are you lookin’ for?”
Cassie had called Caesar several days before to arrange this meeting. She’d gotten his name from one of Mike’s coworkers, an ex-undercover cop who’d worked most of his assignments here in Mexico. She’d planned on asking Caesar to find the prostitutes Saul had brought to the estate. She wanted to question them, gain evidence of their business with Saul. Now, she wanted that and more.
“The job has changed scope,” she said. “I need more information than I thought.”
Caesar leaned back and draped his arm the length of the booth. “Great. Ex-con and all, it’s hard to find work.”
She explained the situation with the prostitutes, which Caesar didn’t object to. Then Cassie said, “And I want background information on Rio.”
Caesar’s fingers stopped tapping the top of the vinyl bench. His gaze stopped traveling around the diner. “I don’t need that kind of work.”
“You’re afraid of him.” Cassie found this fascinating, if a little disturbing. “You committed murder, and you’re afraid of Rio?”
He sat forward, hands on the table, gaze on his hands. “That was a stupid thing that happened when I was a kid. I was at the wrong place at the wrong time, hanging with the wrong guys, and I made the wrong decision. I don’t deliberately look for trouble, and that’s what you get when you cross Rio.”
“Like what?”
“Ay, Dios mío.” Caesar made the sign of the cross over his forehead.
She fisted her hands. “I’ll double your pay.”
Caesar grimaced, mumbled under his breath.
“Just background stuff,” Cassie coaxed. “Just about people Rio’s worked for, people he hangs out with”—hell, while I’m at it…—“maybe a previous girlfriend or two.”
Caesar considered in silence, studying the speckled Formica’s surface. His dark gaze lifted. “Double pay?”
“And a bonus if you come up with good information.”
“I’ll see what I can get, but you have to keep it quiet.”
“Fine,” she said. “What did Rio say to you before he left?”
The hint of a smile eased the taut stretch of Caesar’s mouth. “He told me that if I touched you, I’d lose a limb, and if I hurt you, I’d lose my life.”
She frowned, confused. “Why are you smiling? You just told me you were afraid of him. You don’t take that threat seriously?”
His grin returned to a grim line. “I always take Rio seriously, but this I understand. This was a man keeping others away from his woman. If I had a woman like you, I’d mark my territory too.”
An awkward sensation crowded Cassie’s belly. Miguel approached the table with two large brown bags cradled in his arms, and she looked up, grateful for the interruption. The spicy scent of authentic Mexican food made her wish she had an appetite, but Rio made her hungry for only one thing. And that one thing might be Hispanic, but it wasn’t food.
Caesar pushed to his feet. “I’ll get that information to you as soon as I have it.”
She waited for Caesar to leave the table, then rose and took the bags from Miguel. “Gracias.”
Outside, Rio stood with the man who’d beckoned him earlier.
She nodded in their direction. “Do you know him well?”
Miguel glanced over his shoulder. “That’s Javier Lopez. A year ahead of us in school.”
She’d meant Rio, but Miguel’s answer sent her thoughts in another direction. “Little Javier?” Cassie looked again, shocked, then amused. “I used to play jacks with him at recess.”
Miguel laughed, an easy, comfortable sound. “Not little anymore. Javier’s had some trouble; most of those tattoos were done in prison. But he’s okay. He’s working at Casa del Refugio now, teaching kids how to build things, fix cars.”
“What do you know about Rio?”
Miguel shrugged with an easy smile. “He’s a good tipper.”
She smirked. “I was thinking of something more substantial.”
“He doesn’t have a girlfriend, if that’s what you want to know, though he has his share of female admirers.”
She had no doubt. Her gaze moved back to Rio. Out front, he and Javier had turned toward an old pickup truck she assumed was Javier’s. They both leaned in, arms crossed and resting on the edge of the bed. Cassie wasn’t interested in looking at anything but Rio. His T-shirt stretched across shoulders so wide, the fabric rippled. Worn Levi’s wrapped long, muscular legs. Man, he had a great rear view, like a rock-solid V. What woman wouldn’t want him? Handsome, built, charming… Secretive, evasive, morally questionable…
Maybe he didn’t have a girlfriend for a reason. Maybe all the smart women had avoided him.
“I meant about him as a person,” Cassie said.
The smile on Miguel’s face dimmed. “I only know him from coming into the restaurant. He eats here a lot. He especially likes our sweet tea and always—”
“Miguel.” Her patience was just about gone.
He gave her another rueful grin. “I can’t tell you anything from personal experience other than he’s always been polite and generous to my workers. Rio has a reputation on the street that is very different from the man I know.”
Bingo. Cassie must have fallen into that stupid category after all. Clearly the women around here knew all about Rio and his reputation, which was why they admired from afar.
“Gracias, Miguel. Hasta luego.”
She headed for the door. The bags in her arms seemed to have doubled in weight, but she knew the contents weren’t dragging at her; mounting disappointments were.
That realization brought pain. That pain brought a surge of anger. Cassie walked out of Miguel’s and into the middle of Rio and Javier’s conversation, purposely obtuse. “Hi, Javier. Remember me?”
He studied her a minute, his face compressed into an irritated frown before he broke into a wide gri
n. “Dios mío! Cassie Christo?” He stepped forward and pulled her into a loose hug around the food bags, then released her and held her at arm’s length. “Look at you. Who knew that scrawny kid would turn into such a beauty? What are you doing here? I thought you were in San Diego, saving lives.”
“I’m on a break between residency and fellowship.”
His grin faded and his expression grew serious. “I’m so sorry about your mamà and Santos.”
She nodded, pretending the sudden weight in her heart didn’t exist. “Thank you.”
Rio pushed away from the truck. “I’ll walk you back.”
“No, thanks.” Her denial came automatically, even though she was now acutely aware of the many loitering men on the street. She couldn’t tell who was a gang member and who wasn’t, but she felt far more attention focused on her now, thanks to Rio.
He stepped up beside her and pulled one of the bags from her arms. She tried to hold on but lost that battle before it even started.
“I don’t need an escort.” She didn’t want to make an issue of it in front of Javier, but she didn’t like him trying to control her either.
He turned to Javier. “I’ll look into it and let you know.”
Cassie ground her teeth as she and Rio started up the street. He walked like a man completely at ease in his own skin. Authentically confident. Like he knew he could handle anything that came his way. For the first time, she recognized the difference between a person with genuine security in himself and the false confidence so many of her colleagues used.
It was refreshing. Intriguing. And really damn sexy.
She hadn’t found anything sexy since her incident with Sharpe—not clothes, not books, not movies, not thoughts, and definitely not men. Though she’d dated over the years, engaged in harmless flirtations now and then, Rio was the first man she was interested in as a person. As a potential lover. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to work out as she’d fantasized.
That fact fueled her lousy mood.
“Listen, Rio,” she said, unable to keep the bite out of her tone, “you made yourself perfectly clear last night. But we obviously have a communication gap going here, so let me make myself perfectly clear for you.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw his head turn toward her. She didn’t look at him. Just took a deep breath and plowed forward.
“I’m fine with whatever excuse you want to use to keep your distance. I respect your choice. But that choice makes my personal life off limits. That means you don’t have the right to tell another man to stay away from me. If you don’t want me, that’s fine, but you don’t get to say no one else can have me either.”
Rio stopped walking. Cassie turned and looked back at him. Carrying a brown sack in one arm, his hip cocked in a casual stance, he shouldn’t have looked dangerous, but his eyes had gone dark, his jaw was set tight. And something about the way he was breathing or the flare of his nostrils or the pull of his brows sent a current of discomfort zinging along her nerves.
“What?” She gestured with her free hand. “This isn’t a case of wanting to have your cake and eat it too. You don’t want me. I don’t see why this—”
His advance was so sudden, so direct, so quick and smooth, he was in front of her when she hadn’t actually seen him move. She stiffened and had to force herself not to retreat. Had to force herself to look him in the eye.
Those mossy green irises had definitely darkened to something closer to forest. His expression was… Frustrated? Angry? Hurt? She wasn’t sure, which unnerved her. His hand fisted in the waistband of her shorts, and his rough knuckles rubbed her belly. A thrill spread over her skin, and Cassie sucked in a surprised breath. Rio pushed her into the shadow of another recessed doorway. Her back hit cool brick, and Rio closed in.
She cringed—eyes closed, shoulders lifted, head turned—a completely automatic reaction.
Rio froze. His body went rigid.
“Whoa, shit,” he murmured before backing off.
Cassie chanced a look and found uncertainty in his expression. And guilt. Which was when she realized he’d been moving in to kiss her, not hurt her. And, judging by his intensity, he’d planned on devouring her.
The thought pulsed exhilaration through her body. God, she wanted it. Wanted him.
She reached out and grabbed for him before he moved away. She got a fistful of T-shirt and pulled him close. “No. Don’t go.” He paused, clearly wary. “Kiss me.”
He didn’t move. They were still thigh to thigh, the fingers of his free hand light at her waist now. The muscle and heat beneath his jeans drew her attention, and she wanted to pull him close so his hips rubbed hers.
“Isn’t that what you wanted to do?” she asked, voice breathy, heart beating hard.
She pressed her hand against his belly. His muscles tensed, and Cassie’s body surged with both power and excitement. And, yes, fear. But she thrived on the sense of control that came when she looked fear in the face and pushed through. She grabbed the top of the paper bag still in her arm and set it on the ground. Then took his, set it alongside. He didn’t argue, but the vertical lines between his brows showed he wasn’t sure about it either.
She slid her hand up his chest. His nipple hardened under her palm, and lust bit into her own breast. “You pushed me in here to kiss me, didn’t you?”
His gaze dropped to her mouth. Held. Her stomach jumped. Her heart whispered, yes.
But he only lifted his eyes back to hers. They were heavy lidded and burning. The rise and fall of his chest rubbed hers. And, God, he smelled good. Different from last night with something spicy and woodsy barely wafting off his skin.
“I pushed you in here to tell you that just because I’m not in a position to…have you”—his voice dropped into a thick tone on the last two words—“doesn’t mean I’m going to stand by and watch you walk straight into fire.”
“Oh.” She breathed the word. “Say that again.”
“What?”
“Have you,” she whispered.
His lids closed halfway, the muscle jumped in his jaw, and a growl rumbled in his throat.
Her whole body surged with heat. She combed her fingers into his hair, and his eyes closed the rest of the way, those thick lashes lying gently on his dark cheeks. The restrained pleasure in his handsome face made Cassie a little crazy. Made her think of doing very sexy things in a very public place. Things she’d rarely even thought of doing in private. But the pleasure on his face was almost magical, and she was willing to do just about anything to keep it there.
She pushed him away just enough to glance down the length of his body. Her gaze paused on the swell beneath his zipper. Then jumped to his belt. She licked her lips. Let her hand drift to his waist. Could she? Just a touch? Maybe even a taste?
“Don’t. Even.” His deep, scratchy warning sizzled along her neck beneath his warm breath.
Caught. Heat shot to her face. She grinned so big her cheeks hurt. She bit her lip to keep herself from laughing. He lifted her face with strong fingers on her chin. The scowl that met her made the sound bubble out of her throat anyway.
“God. Don’t do that.” Even his testy growl didn’t smother the pleasure from getting beneath his hard surface.
She lifted her hand back to his hair. “Don’t what?”
“Smile like that. Laugh like that.” His fingers tightened on her waist. He stared at the ceiling of the alcove as if it hurt to look at her. “Christo, you’re going to kill me.”
She laughed again. On purpose. Pressed her lips to his exposed throat. “Kiss me, and I’ll stop.”
He made a negative sound and stepped back. She tightened her grip on his hair, and he winced.
“Be careful, Christo.” His voice scraped out low and vaguely threatening. “I really like that.”
Her body lit up like the Fourth of July. She pulled his head down, pushed up on her toes, and kissed him.
His fingers dug into the flesh at her waist. He swore against her
mouth. But he didn’t try to pull away. And he was kissing her back, even while he muttered excuses. But his kisses were gentle and chaste and not at all what Cassie wanted.
“I can’t…” He released her waist, and his hands slid around her, slipped under her T-shirt, warm against the small of her back. “I really shouldn’t…” He pulled her tighter against him. “I…we have to stop…”
His reserved kisses were a blistering contrast to his tense body, and she got an uncomfortable impression she was forcing herself on him.
The thought made her break from his mouth and pull her hands from his hair. With both palms pressed to his chest, she pushed him back and leaned against the brick behind her.
He scanned her face, looking confused and needy.
When she just waited to see if he’d come after her, he licked his lips, watched her mouth. Pulled back and muttered, “I’m screwed.”
She gripped his shirt, keeping him close. “Why? Just tell me why.”
“Because, God, it’s so complicated.”
“Life is complicated. At least this is good and complicated.”
His eyes fell closed. He pressed his forehead to hers. “Good and complicated, all right.”
“Kiss me like you want to,” she whispered. “I’m not afraid.”
He lifted his head. That smoky green gaze scanned hers for a millisecond before he pressed his body into hers and her body fully into the brick behind her.
Chest to chest, belly to belly, hips to hips, thighs to thighs. Oh, yes, this was what she wanted. He was warm and hard and real. His eyes stayed hungry and intense on hers a long moment. Then he dropped his head and kissed her. Really freaking kissed her. No preface. No sweetness. Just heat and hunger. Stealing her breath. Infusing her with lust and need and overwhelming passion. Taking her far away from the streets of Ensenada.
The long-forgotten sweet tang of lust burst inside her at the same time his tongue possessed her mouth. Rio’s hands slid slowly down the curve of her spine, over her ass, and pulled her against his erection. The hard heat speared her with a kind of pleasure she hadn’t felt in years. She moaned, raw and wanton. He answered, the sound vibrating over her lips and through her mouth.
