The Muscle Part One

by Michelle St. James

  “It will be easier for you to do your job here,” Hector said. “You must trust me on this.” Luca hesitated, trying to think of a gracious way to decline the offer. Hector spoke again before he could answer. “At least until you find something more permanent, yes?”

  It was a rhetorical question. Luca knew he had no choice but to accept the offer if he didn’t want to rouse suspicion — always a concern when working with those who made their money illegally — or create bad feelings.

  He nodded. “Thank you.”

  “It is no problem. You can bring your things when you come tomorrow.” Hector reached into his jacket and handed Luca a cell phone. “This is your duty phone. Keep it on at all times.”

  Luca slipped it into his pocket.

  “I assume you have a weapon?” Hector asked.

  Luca nodded. “I don’t usually need it to defend myself — or anyone else — but it’s good insurance.”

  Luca had had enough tactical and martial arts training with the Vitale family to virtually insure his survival in any situation. Unlike some of the men who’d thought it was ridiculous to use hand to hand combat when a weapon was nearby, he had understood the merit of the training, and it had gotten him out of trouble more than once with a lot less commotion than a weapon.

  “Try to avoid firing it in the house,” Hector said.

  Luca nodded. “Anything else I should know?”

  Something secretive dropped over Hector’s eyes. “Why don’t you take a tour of the house? We can talk afterwards.”

  “That works,” Luca said.

  Hector surveyed him for a long moment. “You know that you are employed by Diego Fuentas, yes?”

  “That’s my understanding,” Luca said.

  “Good,” Hector said. “It is an important thing to remember.”

  Luca was still trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind the words when Hector opened the door. Robert appeared a moment later, and they made their way out into the hall.

  “This is the main part of the house,” Robert said, leading him through an enormous living room with high, rustically-beamed ceilings. “You’ll only be here if the job requires it, although you can help yourself in the kitchen.”

  Luca listened as Robert led him through the house, down hallways that led to more hallways, all of them tiled or floored with marble, some of them covered with rugs. There was a media room and a library, something that looked like an art studio dotted with expressive, vibrantly colored abstracts, an expansive Spanish style kitchen and dining room. The grounds were just as elaborate, screened off from the other wealthily inhabitants of Coral Gables with large trees and fences. At the back of the house, an infinity pool seemed to meet the sea beyond it, and a large, covered palazzo with columns like the ones at the front of the house offered shelter to half a dozen teak lounge chairs.

  When they were done with the house, Robert led the way upstairs to the second floor via a simple staircase at the back of the house. “Diego prefers we use these stairs unless it’s necessary to use the main staircase.”

  “Will do,“ Luca said as they emerged into a tile hall lined with sconces, fine art, and more of the carved furniture that he’d seen on the ground floor.

  They continued down the hall to a door on the right. Robert opened it without knocking and stepped into the room.

  “Hello, Sofia,” Robert said.

  Luca followed the other man’s gaze to a girl reading on the bed, her long dark hair pulled into a ponytail over big brown eyes and delicate features.

  “Who’s that?” the little girl asked.

  “This is Luca,” Robert said. “He’ll be staying here for awhile.”

  Luca was trying to figure out how best to introduce himself to the small, serious creature in front of him when she spoke again.

  “Is he Isabel’s new bodyguard?”

  Isabel…

  Luca scrolled the research he’d done on the Fuentes family. He’d just connected the dots when a familiar woman swept into the room.

  It can’t be…

  But it was. The woman from the hotel roof, the one he’d chased down on the beach. The one who had stirred his body and his imagination when he’d pressed against her on the sand.

  A flicker of surprise flashed in her eyes in the moment before she returned her expression to one of boredom.

  “Don’t worry, mija,” she said to Sofia. “He won’t last any longer than the others.”

  8

  “Turn right up ahead.” Isabel spoke from the passenger seat as Luca navigated the streets.

  He followed her instructions, and she turned her face to the passenger window, trying to focus on the people on the other side of the glass, the cars driving past them, anything but the presence of Luca next to her. His big hands gripped the wheel with assurance, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. His muscled thighs were on full display even through his jeans, and his black T-shirt only highlighted the broadness of his shoulders, the strength of the arms that she’d been intimately familiar with two nights before. It was distracting. And she couldn’t afford to be distracted.

  He’d moved his stuff into the house that morning, and while she might have been imagining it, she didn’t think he’d looked very happy. He’d been given the guest room next to hers on the second floor — probably so he could keep an eye on her — and she had been trying to avoid him ever since.

  It wasn’t easy given that it was his job to be her shadow, but she didn’t like the way she felt around him. Didn’t like the way her stomach fluttered and her belly tightened at the thought of him, the way her mouth went dry when she focused too long on his lips.

  And then there was the other thing, the question that had been swirling around her mind ever since she’d walked into the room and seen him standing near Sofia, ever since he was introduced as her new bodyguard.

  Had he known who she was that night on the beach? Had he been getting a jump on his new job? And most importantly, would he tell Diego she’d been out of the house?

  She was tired of wondering, tired of waiting for the other shoe to drop, of waiting for Diego to summon her into his study for a fresh round of rebukes over her behavior and a punishment that would be all about showing her who was really in control.

  “Did you know?” she said suddenly, turning to look at Luca.

  He kept his gaze on the street in front of them. “No.”

  She wondered if she believed him, then decided she did. “Will you tell Diego?”

  He didn’t say anything at first, and her stomach knotted in anxiety. But there was something thoughtful on his face, and she had the sudden feeling his hesitation wasn’t a power play, that he was trying to choose the right words to say what he wanted to say.

  “Why did you do it?” he finally asked. “Why do you do any of it?”

  She turned her face back to the window, her cheeks hot. Her adventures were private, something she did for herself, the way some women masturbated or went shopping and then hid the receipts from their disapproving husbands. She felt exposed, naked, at the thought of Luca knowing this about her.

  “It’s hard to explain,” she said.

  “Try.” It was said softly, but it was a command nonetheless, and she knew if she wanted him to keep quiet about her exploits on the hotel roof, she would need to give him an explanation.

  “My father died about a year ago,” she said. “Things haven’t been the same since.”

  It was the short version, the only version she wanted to tell. The only version she could tell and remain whole for Sofia. She wasn’t really surprised when he didn’t let it go.

  “In what way?” he asked.

  “In every way.”

  He sighed, and she drew in a deep breath, feeling guilty for being so difficult. He’d been nice so far. Nice and respectful of both her and Sofia. And he seemed willing to keep her secret from Diego. That was something. If all he wanted in return was to understand, it was a small thing to ask, wasn’t it? Besides, i
t’s not like people were lining up trying to understand her.

  “I know what my father did for a living, but he was a good man, a gentle father. He loved Sofia and me. Spoiled us rotten, not just with things but with his attention and praise and love. He loved Diego, too, but I think he knew Diego was more… complex.”

  “You seem plenty complex to me,” Luca said, his voice gruff.

  “Maybe complex isn’t the right word,” she said. “Unpredictable might be a better one. Dangerous.”

  He glanced away from the road to look at her. “Dangerous?”

  She looked away, not wanting to reveal too much. “The point is, things were different after he died. Diego took control of the business and the household. He got a little… crazy with it all, I think. With the money and the power and the total freedom to do what he wanted without Papa’s disapproval.”

  “What does that have to do with you?” Luca asked.

  “Make another right at the light,” she said, grateful for the few extra seconds to come up with an answer. “I’m trying to keep things good for Sofia,” she said. “Trying to keep things normal. It isn’t always easy to do with Diego, but I’m trying, and sometimes I just… well, sometimes I just need to do something for me.”

  “Like jump off a roof?”

  “Maybe,” she snapped. She hadn’t meant to sound so defensive, and she tried to calm down, to remind herself that Luca wasn’t necessarily the enemy. Not yet anyway. “I’m not allowed out very often, and when I do get out, I always have a bodyguard with me, one who reports to Diego.”

  “Like me,” he said.

  She’d never had a bodyguard quite like Luca, but she didn’t want him to know that so she nodded. “Like you. And sometimes I just want to… to feel alive. To feel free.”

  He didn’t say anything, but when she looked at him, his face was thoughtful.

  “Let’s talk about you,” she said, eager to change the subject.

  He laughed, and she felt a tingle all the way to her toes. She’d never heard him laugh, but now that she had, she wanted to hear it again and again. “Me?”

  “Yes,” she said. “You’ve forced me to tell you my secret.” She swallowed against the lie. He wasn’t anywhere near knowing her deepest, darkest secret, and he never would be if she had anything to say about it. “I think you owe me one in return.”

  “To be fair,” he said, “your exploit at the pool wasn’t really a secret. I was there.”

  “Even so, I think we need to level the playing field.”

  Something guarded dropped over his face, and he clenched his jaw. She was surprised when he nodded. “Okay.”

  “Why did you take the job?” she asked. “You must know what my brother does for a living.”

  “It’s none of my business,” he said. “I’m just a guy who needs a paycheck.”

  She thought about the way he’d gripped her hands when he’d pinned her to the sand at the beach, how safe she’d felt under the guardianship of his body, and knew without a doubt that he was something more than just a man who needed a paycheck.

  “What did you do before this?” she asked, then pointed to a line of cars and buses parked outside Sofia’s school. “It’s right there. Just pull up next to the curb.”

  He followed her instructions without saying anything, and she turned to him as he put the car in Park.

  “So?”

  “So what?”

  She smiled. It felt good. “You’re not going distract me. What did you do before this?”

  He tapped one big hand on the steering wheel of the red sports car. “I worked in a… similar capacity for someone else.”

  “As a bodyguard?”

  He met her gaze, his eyes as blue as the Miami sky overhead. “You sound surprised.”

  “A little,” she said.

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “I get the feeling there’s more to you than that.”

  “Than what?”

  “Than being a bodyguard.”

  He lifted one dark eyebrow. “Because bodyguards are dumb.”

  “That’s not what I said, and it’s not what I meant,” she said.

  “Don’t assign me qualities I don’t have.” His voice was a warning. “You’ll only be disappointed. I’m just a man who needs a paycheck, like I said. There’s nothing more to it than that.”

  She opened the car door, trying not to show her disappointment. “I’ll be right back.”

  She walked to the front of Sofia’s school and joined the mothers and nannies in line for pick up. Why was she disappointed?

  Don’t assign me qualities I don’t have. You’ll only be disappointed.

  She didn’t expect anything from him — didn’t want anything from him — so why did it feel like a blow off? And why should it matter? He couldn’t blow her off if she wasn’t interested in the first place.

  And she wasn’t. She definitely wasn't.

  She signed her name and showed her ID, and a moment later, Sofia came skipping down the hall, ponytail bouncing over her Star Wars backpack.

  “Hey, nena,” Isabel said, bending down to kiss her sister’s forehead. "How was school?”

  Sofia sighed. “Boring.”

  Isabel laughed. “Boring, huh?”

  “Yeah. And Sara took my seat at lunch, so I had to sit with kids I didn’t know.”

  “Well, maybe you’ll make new friends,” Isabel said as they headed for the door.

  “Who came with you?” Sofia asked.

  “Luca,” Isabel said, guiding her toward the car.

  “The new one?” Sofia asked.

  “That’s the one.” Isabel tried to keep her voice light. What was wrong with her? Why was she acting like some kind of moony-eyed schoolgirl? Just because she and Luca had one normal conversation didn’t make him some kind of knight in shining armor. After all, he’d been hired by her brother, which meant he was more likely one of the villains in a story that already had too many of them.

  “How long do you think he’ll last?” Sofia asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  9

  Luca was standing outside the closed door to Isabel’s room, listening to the soft murmur of her and Sofia talking inside. Isabel had made Sofia a snack when they got home, and the two of them had hurried up to Isabel’s room. Luca had felt like an asshole following them, but it was his job, and as much as he wanted to give Isabel privacy, he wasn’t about to have her go missing his first week.

  She sighed when she saw him take up position outside her door. It had been soft and breathy, and his cock had stirred at the sound of it. He wondered what she would sound like when he opened her thighs, buried his face in the crease between her legs.

  “Sorry,” he’d said, trying to distract himself from the image. “Boss’s orders.”

  “It’s okay. I’m used to it.” He hated the resignation in her voice, mostly because he couldn’t imagine what it would take for her to be resigned. She had so much spirit, so much fight. But he heard all her battles, all her weariness, in the sigh.

  He thought about their conversation in the car. He hadn’t expected her to be so… sincere. Between the drug empire run by her brother, the crazy acting out, and the elaborate house, he’d pegged her for a spoiled rich girl. Now he wasn’t so sure, and alarm bells clanged a warning in his head as he thought about her full lips, turned up in a smile when she laughed, her legs bare and brown under the dress she’d been wearing in the car.

  He couldn’t afford to like this woman. Any other woman. But not this one.

  “Boss wants to see you in the study.”

  The voice took him by surprise, and he looked up to find Robert approaching from the staircase.

  “Should I…” Luca gestured toward the door of Isabel’s room.

  “I’ll stay,” Robert said. There was nothing nefarious in his voice, but Luca found that he didn’t want to go. Didn’t want to leave Isabel and her little sister in the care of one of the beady-eyed men who roamed
the Fuentes estate at all hours of the night, guns holstered 24/7 at their sides.

  He nodded anyway. A job was a job.

  He headed for the stairs and made his way to the first floor, then turned right down the long hall that ran the length of the west wing. The study doors were closed, and he knocked softly, waiting for some indication that he should enter.

  “Come in.”

  He opened the door and stepped into the room, surprised to find not Hector, but Diego Fuentes. He was sitting behind the carved desk smoking a cigar, the smoke swilling upward toward a ceiling fan making slow circles over his head.

  “Please, sit,” Diego said, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

  Luca unbuttoned his jacket and sat down, extending his hand. “Luca Cassano.”

  Diego ignored the hand. “I know who you are."

  Unlike Hector, Diego spoke in perfect, unaccented English. Then again, so did Isabel. He wondered how long the Fuentes family had been in Miami, how long it had taken Silvio Fuentes to build the empire that funded the luxury surrounding them.

  Luca waited, because that’s what you did with men like Diego. It wasn’t a show of weakness. It was a show of intelligence. Anyone could come into a situation like this one showing off. It took patience to be still. To wait.

  “How are you finding your accommodations here?” Diego finally asked.

  “They’re fine,” Luca said. “Thank you. I’m looking for more permanent housing. I should be out of your way before too long.”

  Diego waved away the statement with his cigar. “Stay as long as you like. All the better to keep track of the punta that is my sister.”

  Luca’s body tightened at the word. Punta. Cunt. Bitch. That’s how Diego was talking about his sister. About the beautiful, wild woman who spoke so sweetly to Sofia, who was so dead inside she flung herself off rooftops to feel alive. He wanted to punch something. To pummel Diego until he lost all his teeth, until he wasn’t coherent enough to speak a bad word against Isabel.

  But he didn’t say anything. That would have been stupid. He was already beginning to realize the situation was more volatile than expected. More dangerous. He’d dealt with men like Diego before. Their ego was a weakness. Using that weakness took time and manipulation.