Hell on Heels

by Carla Cassidy

  “Ah, here you are, darling,” he said, his eyes glittering darkly. “I’m sorry I’m late. I was all tied up.”

  Before she could guess his intention, he grabbed her to him and took her mouth with his in a hard, punishing kiss that quickly transformed to something softer and far more dangerous.

  She wanted to shove him away, punch him in the stomach, but she was conscious of Carlos watching the interchange with amusement.

  It was only when the tip of his tongue touched hers that she broke the kiss and staggered a step back from him on legs that threatened to buckle. Damn, but the man definitely knew how to kiss.

  “Darling, now is not the time or the place,” she said and shot him a look that should have dropped him dead in his tracks.

  Luke winked at Carlos. “When you’re newlyweds the time and place are always right for a little romance. Right?”

  Carlos laughed. “Ah, amor. It makes fools of both men and women.”

  “Why don’t you give me what she’s having.” Luke gestured toward Chantal’s drink. “And why don’t we get a table, darling?”

  Chantal grabbed her drink from the bar and walked to a nearby table while Luke waited for his drink. Her mouth still burned with the imprint of his and she took a deep drink of her margarita to banish the taste of him.

  “How did you get loose?” she asked him as he joined her at the table.

  “There’s not a pair of handcuffs made that I can’t pick open.” He took a sip of his drink. “That wasn’t a nice thing to do, Carol. If I was a different kind of man that little incident might have started our married life off on the wrong foot.”

  “Get bent,” Chantal exclaimed. “I agreed to work with you, not sleep with you.”

  “Then I guess you don’t believe in combining business with pleasure?” He raised a dark eyebrow.

  “What makes you think sleeping with you would be a pleasure for me?” she countered.

  He leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Because I know what I’m good at. I’ve never had any complaints.”

  “Enough of this nonsense, we need to get down to business.” She did not want to think about or talk about Luke’s skill at sex. It made her uncomfortable. It made her feel as if she suffered a fever. “We need to see about a rental car and I’ve decided maybe it would be a good idea if I dye my hair before we really go on the hunt for Willowby.”

  “I already got us a car,” he replied. “It’s parked in the hotel garage right now. And later tonight I’m meeting a man about a gun.” He kept his voice low so their conversation wouldn’t be overheard by anyone else nearby.

  Chantal frowned. “You really think that’s necessary?”

  He shrugged. “I believe in erring on the side of caution. I don’t like being here without a weapon. As far as Willowby is concerned, I’m still not sure what he might be capable of.”

  “Who is this man you’re supposed to see?”

  “A friend of a friend of a friend.”

  Chantal took another sip of her drink, then said, “Is that wise?”

  “Wise or not, it’s necessary. Mexico might be beautiful, but there is a high crime rate here and we aren’t exactly here for a luxury vacation.” He eyed her curiously. “What color?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “What color are you going to dye your hair? I think you’d make a good redhead.”

  “Dark brown,” she replied, although she had been leaning toward red. She leaned back in her chair and realized it was difficult for her to look at him. Without the long hair there was nothing to detract from his strong, handsome features, chiseled features she’d never noticed before.

  “So, what exactly is our plan for this evening?” she asked. “I’ve already shown a picture of Willowby to Carlos and he said he’s never seen Willowby in here.”

  “Why don’t we get your hair stuff and go back to the room. We can order room service for supper while you’re doing your hair. After we eat and your hair is done we can take a look around the area until it’s time for me to meet my man.”

  Chantal finished her drink and stood to leave. “Carlos told me there’s a drug store in the next block. I’ll go get what I need then meet you upstairs in the room.”

  He stood as well. “I’ll go with you. Even though this is a resort, it’s not safe for a woman, especially not a woman who looks like you, to be walking the streets alone.”

  “I can take care of myself,” she said. “I’m not exactly your typical helpless female.”

  “Far be it for me even to suggest such a thing. I just figured if I took the walk with you, I could get a feel for the neighborhood.”

  “Whatever.” Chantal waved to Carlos as she and Luke left the bar and headed toward the front door of the hotel.

  The evening air was still quite warm and humid as they walked outside. “Carlos said the store is this way,” she said and pointed to the left.

  Darkness had begun to fall. Shadows clung to the sides of the buildings, deeper in the alley they passed. In the shadows of the alley a gang of young men milled about and they didn’t look as though they were exchanging business cards.

  Luke stepped closer to her side and despite the fact that she knew she could handle herself against a single attacker, she was grateful for his presence as they passed the alleyway and the group of men.

  The shop where Carlos had told her to go was small, but carried a vast array of items, including a box of cocoa-brown hair dye, which Chantal purchased while Luke picked up a couple guide books and visitor information brochures, then they left to make the return walk to their hotel.

  In the few minutes they had been in the store darkness had fallen completely and the streets had begun to come alive with the exciting nightlife the travel brochures promised.

  Lively music poured from several open doorways and well-dressed groups of people walked the streets, apparently seeking entertainment.

  Chantal felt the thrum of energy deep in her veins and despite the fact that she was tired from the flight she felt a second wind coming on.

  Perhaps Willowby was right now arriving at one of the clubs. He’d be dressed to kill, flashing his charming smile and picking a victim for the night.

  Why had he chosen Belinda that night? Had he sensed some kind of weakness in her that would make her a perfect victim? She’d read someplace that criminals, rapists in particular, seemed to have a sort of radar for likely victims. They honed in on the vulnerable.

  That night of the party so long ago, the house had been filled with pretty girls, more than a few of whom would have willingly fallen into bed with Marcus.

  Why hadn’t he picked on Chantal? She would have fought back. Even at the age of sixteen she hadn’t been as vulnerable as Belinda had been.

  When they returned to the room, Luke stretched out on the bed with the brochures and Chantal disappeared into the bathroom to transform her looks.

  Less than an hour later she stood in front of the bathroom mirror and stared at her reflection. Amazing what a bottle of goop and forty minutes could do, she thought as she studied herself.

  The dark brown hair definitely changed the way she looked. Her eyes appeared bluer and her round face looked thinner. If Willowby had any memory of her at all, she felt confident he wouldn’t recognize her now.

  She heard a knock on the door and knew it was probably room service delivering their dinner order. A moment later, Luke knocked on the bathroom door.

  “Carol, dinner is here.”

  She opened the bathroom door and stepped out. “Perfect timing,” she said. She touched her hair self-consciously as Luke stared at her. “What do you think?”

  He gazed at her hair thoughtfully. “It looks good. It definitely makes you look different.”

  “That was the idea.” She walked over to the table and chairs where their meals had been laid out, complete with a fresh-cut floral centerpiece.

  They both sat at the table. “Now that our makeovers are complete, we can really get down
to business,” she said.

  “We’re not going to really get down to business until I get a gun,” he replied. “We can really start our hunt for Willowby first thing in the morning.”

  For a few minutes they ate in silence and Chantal found herself wondering about Luke’s personal life, his history. “I know you’ve worked for Big Joey for about five years. What did you do before that?”

  “Little bit of this, little bit of that. Drifted mostly, worked as a bouncer in a couple of bars, roped some cattle on a ranch in Texas.”

  “Really? Where are you from originally? Where’s your family?”

  “I grew up in St. Louis and I’ve got no family. My parents died when I was twenty-two.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

  “But, it must be tough…being all alone.”

  “I don’t mind being alone. When you depend only on yourself you never have to worry about people disappointing you or leaving you behind.” There was a darkness in his eyes that subtly warned her this particular conversation had reached an end.

  She wondered who had disappointed him? Who had left him behind? But, she knew better than to pry by the expression on his face. “How did you meet Big Joey?” This seemed a better choice for conversation.

  “I was bouncing in a bar on the south side of Kansas City. He came in one night and we got to talking and before I knew it he’d offered me a job. He’d heard I wasn’t just brainless muscle, that I had a degree in criminology and he thought bounty hunting would be a good fit for me. He was right.”

  Chantal stopped eating and stared at him wordlessly for a moment. “You have a degree in criminology?” The idea was as foreign as Versace designing clothes for gas-station attendants.

  “Don’t look so surprised,” he said dryly. “I told you I’m a man of many talents.”

  So, she wanted to ask but didn’t, why would a man with a degree in criminology be working as a bouncer in a bar? The last thing she wanted was to get personal with Luke Coleman. The less she knew about him the better.

  It was already distracting enough to realize that beneath all that hair and bad clothes lurked a drop-dead gorgeous man who stirred her hormones into a near frenzy.

  But no matter how fine he looked, no matter how his nearness stirred her up inside, she couldn’t get distracted from her job and that job was to find Willowby and bring him to justice for Belinda’s sake.

  The heart of Tamillo was a five-mile stretch of luxury hotels, fancy restaurants and nightclubs, tiny shops and food bazaars. Bright lights and crowds of people filled the street despite the fact that it was nearly midnight. The sound of laughter and raucous music rode the humid salted air, proclaiming to visitors that Tamillo was open for fun.

  But, as with all resort towns, there was a seedy underbelly away from the bright lights and laughing tourists. Chantal maneuvered the Jeep down the narrow street lined with shanties and trash, grateful that she didn’t have to make this trip alone, that Luke sat in the passenger seat beside her.

  She’d been pleased with his choice of vehicle and even more pleased when he hadn’t argued when she’d said she’d drive. She was also glad that he wasn’t a backseat-driver kind of man. Other than giving her directions to their destination, he said nothing.

  They both understood the danger of what they were going to do. They were in a foreign country and about to buy an illegal gun from a man they didn’t know. It was possible they could wind up in jail, ripped off or dead.

  It was the dead part that had Chantal more than a little nervous as they passed sullen-faced teenagers and men with angry expressions standing on the street corners.

  In this part of the town the developers’ money hadn’t changed life, poverty was rampant and where there was poverty, there was rage.

  “Up ahead, on the right,” Luke said tersely. “La Cantina. Pull up in front and keep the Jeep running, and whatever you do, don’t get out of the Jeep for any reason.”

  “You might think I’m stupid, but I’m not,” she said as she tightened her fingers around the steering wheel. She pulled up in front of the cantina where a handful of men stood looking pumped and primed for trouble.

  “I’m looking for a man named Ramos,” Luke yelled out in perfect Spanish.

  One of the men broke away from the group and stepped closer to the Jeep. “There are many men named Ramos. Why are you looking for one?”

  “We have a mutual friend,” Luke replied.

  “And who might that friend be?”

  The man leaned down and his glittering dark eyes connected with Chantal. She averted her gaze from his, not wanting him to perceive any kind of personal challenge coming from her.

  “Escobar Diaz sent me.” Luke opened the Jeep door and Chantal fought the impulse to grab his arm and keep him inside the vehicle.

  The gang of men seemed to be holding their collective breaths as Luke climbed out of the Jeep. Several of them wore grins, not smiles of welcome or glee but rather of anticipation.

  Hands had disappeared into pockets and Chantal had a feeling that if a frisk was conducted of the gang, enough weapons would be found to stock a small army. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel.

  “So, is Ramos here or should I go back to my friend Diaz and tell him Ramos couldn’t be found?” Luke asked.

  A tall man broke away from the group and approached Luke. “I am Ramos. My friend Diaz mentioned I might have an American visitor, but I didn’t realize it would be so soon.”

  The man called Ramos motioned for Luke to step away from the Jeep. The other men gave the two a wide berth, but their dark gazes remained fixed on Luke.

  Chantal’s heart banged unsteadily against her ribs. The air was electric with tension, with the portent of unexpected danger. She kept the gas pumped and her foot firmly on the clutch, ready to pop it and go in a heartbeat.

  She could no longer make out the words Luke and Ramos exchanged in rapid-fire Spanish, but as their voices raised her heart crashed faster.

  What was happening? The two men were out of her direct line of vision and all she could see was the group of men who looked meaner by the moment.

  Voices raised, Spanish coming in short staccato bursts and suddenly Luke flew into the passenger seat and slammed the door. “Go!” he yelled.

  Chantal popped the clutch and stepped on the gas. The Jeep flew out of the parking space at the same time as she looked in the rearview mirror and saw several men piling into an old battered car.

  “What happened?” she asked as they flew down the narrow street, the car behind them gaining ground.

  “I got the gun,” he said.

  “They’re chasing us. What did you do, stiff them?”

  “No, I paid the money Ramos wanted, but he decided he wanted a fringe benefit.”

  “Fringe benefit? What?”

  “You. I suggest you lose them unless you want to be a night’s entertainment for a bunch of horny men.”

  It was one thing to participate in a car chase in the city where you’d been born, where you knew the streets, the alleys and the dead ends.

  It was far more frightening to participate in a car chase in a city you’d never visited before, where one false turn could lead to a blind alley with no escape.

  She stayed on the main street as the car behind them crept closer and closer. She came to an intersection and at the last minute turned left, nearly running down an old man.

  The turn was so sharp she felt two wheels leave the ground. Luke cursed beneath his breath and grabbed the roll bar overhead. She didn’t ease up off the gas.

  “Sushi, SPF15 lip balm, tinted sunglasses,” she muttered under her breath. Adrenaline spiked through her as she passed a slow-moving car and shot back into her lane seconds before a head-on meeting with a pickup truck. She heard Luke’s swift intake of breath.

  “Take it easy,” he muttered.

  “Easy for you to say, none of those boys look the type to be in
terested in your ass,” she exclaimed between clenched teeth. She made a fast right turn and at the same time flipped off her lights.

  The road was dark and without streetlights or headlights she had to focus all her concentration on the road ahead. She prayed that nobody darted out into the street in front of her, that no animal ventured into her path.

  By the time she’d made two more unexpected, last-minute turns she realized there was no sign of the car that had been chasing them.

  She slowed and headed toward the main road that would take them back to their hotel.

  Luke released his hold on the roll bar. “Where in the hell did you learn to drive like that?” There was an edge of admiration in his voice.

  “You’re a man of many talents? I’m a woman of many talents,” she replied as the adrenaline kick slowly began to ebb from her veins.

  “Obviously.”

  They didn’t speak again until they had parked the Jeep in the hotel garage and were in the elevator going up to their hotel room. Luke held a brown paper sack that she assumed contained the weapon and ammunition.

  “I’ve got Mundy’s lot in the United States chasing me and now I’ve got a bunch of drunken men in Mexico after my ass.”

  Luke grinned. “I told you it’s a great ass.”

  She scowled at him. “I’ll tell you right now, we may be working together on this case and sharing the space of a hotel room, but that’s all we’re going to be sharing so get my great ass right out of your mind.”

  “I’ll try,” he said, “but there are some things beyond a man’s capacity.”

  The elevator door whooshed open and Chantal got off, her mind scattered in a million different directions. She still tasted the danger of the chase, felt the electric energy of fear and what she needed more than anything at the moment was some time to decompress and a good night’s sleep.

  Luke had thrown her off-kilter from the moment he’d shown up on the plane, and he had completely discombobulated her by his startling transformation and the damned kisses he’d planted on her.

  She definitely needed some down time to process everything. When she got into the room she grabbed her nightgown and makeup case and disappeared into the bathroom without saying a word to him.