by Cindy Dees
“What about Eduardo? Was he around a lot?”
“No. He traveled all the time. The thing was, nobody ever knew when he might come or go. By the time I was ten or so, though, he had his organization pretty well established and started to spend more time at home.”
“What kind of father was he?” Joe prompted.
“He never failed to provide for us. We always had new clothes and went to good schools. I wouldn’t go so far as to say he openly loved us. But in his own way, he showed us he cared. I think he always regretted that we weren’t boys.”
Joe’s arms tightened briefly and he mumbled, “I, for one, am thrilled that you’re a girl.”
She laughed.
“Tell me more.”
She couldn’t tell if this was some sort of subtle interrogation for the purposes of doing his job or whether Joe was simply interested in her life. Either way, she continued speaking. “He always brought us gifts when he’d been out of the country. Sometimes a stuffed toy or a box of expensive chocolates. Once, he brought us both silk dresses from Paris. He had us wear them to a big party he threw for the leaders of the drug cartel he was trying to hook up with.”
“And did he?”
She frowned. “Did he what?”
“Did he hook up with the drug cartel?”
“Oh. Sort of. A couple of the members didn’t want to do business with him. They said he was too violent. So he killed them and then asked to join the cartel again. The survivors let him in.”
“Did he talk about business around you and your sister?”
“Actually, he was pretty careful about not talking around us. I think he liked pretending we didn’t know what he did. He always told us he owned a bunch of coffee plantations. When we were young, most of what Julia and I knew we learned from eavesdropping on the servants.”
Joe snorted. “How old were you girls when you figured out what he really did?”
She had to think about that one. She searched her memory for a time when she didn’t know what and who her father was. “I can’t remember ever not knowing that Daddy killed people and sold drugs that make people sick.”
“What did you think about that?”
“I used to lie in bed at night and pray that no one would come to our house and kill us to get even with Daddy for killing someone they loved. Which is to say, I had a lot of nightmares and insomnia, even as a little kid.”
“Wow. That’s some burden to carry around,” he commented.
“You know, the worst of it wasn’t the fear. It was the guilt.” She hadn’t thought about this stuff in a long time. The old pain seared across her stomach like an ulcer.
“Guilt? Why?” Joe asked when she didn’t continue.
She considered her words before answering slowly, “I used to think that if Julia and I hadn’t been born, Daddy wouldn’t have needed to turn to crime to support us. I figured it was all our fault. To get the money to take care of us, he had to do the things he did.”
“And how old were you when you grew out of that illusion?”
She gazed out at the ocean, a vague, growling mass out there in the dark. “My head grew out of the notion before I hit my teens. But I don’t know if the heart ever grows out of something like that.”
Joe lurched behind her. “You don’t honestly think your father’s life of crime is your fault, do you?”
She shrugged. “I know it sounds stupid. Like I said, the head gets over it. But you have to admit, there is a certain element of truth to our part in all of this. If Julia and I had ever gone to the authorities, maybe he could’ve been stopped. Maybe a lot of lives could’ve been saved. Maybe she and I are as guilty, in our own way, as he is.”
“Julia’s disappearance has caused a major blow to your father’s activities. She very much wants to do whatever she can to stop him further.”
She couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice. “Right. While I partied the night away and let her take all the heat. And the guilt train just keeps on rolling.”
“Your sister was in a unique position by being your father’s banker. You didn’t have the luxury of having her insider knowledge.”
She snapped, “I may not be his banker, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know any inside stuff.”
“Like what?” he challenged. “What do you know that could be of use to the authorities?”
“Well, I know when he’s going to have important meetings. He always wants me to put in an appearance at them. To serve drinks to his guests and let them grab a quick feel or two.”
Joe’s arms tightened at that.
She shrugged. “At least he never made me sleep with any of them. I hear that some of the men in the cartel make their wives and daughters service important clients.”
“Sick bastards,” Joe said.
“Lucky for you, Eduardo told me I didn’t have to show up for tonight’s meeting. I guess he figured you might go nuts if someone touched me, and he doesn’t want a scene with this bunch.”
“There’s a meeting? Tonight?”
“Yeah. An important one. He’s had it planned for weeks. He’s been really antsy to meet whoever’s coming.”
“When’s the meeting?”
“Two in the morning or so. They’re having late drinks at a nightclub and then coming back here to discuss business.”
“Who’s he meeting with?”
“I have no idea. Someone new with whom he’s never done business. I got the impression these guys deal in something he’s never dabbled in before.”
“So Eduardo’s diversifying?”
She shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you for sure. But that’s my impression.”
“I’m inclined to trust your impressions. And my own impression is that I need to find out who’s at this meeting. I’m going to need your help. Are you game?”
“To do what? Spy on my own father?”
“Exactly. Will you help me?”
Cari gulped. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. We could get in a lot of trouble if we got caught.”
Joe shrugged. “So we don’t get caught.”
Right. Like that was an easy thing. But then, if Joe was as good as the rest of Charlie Squad, he probably could spy on the meeting without getting caught. He’d already figured out how to get around the security cameras watching the grounds below. She’d lived here on and off for most of her life and had never figured that one out.
Except something was still making her terribly uncomfortable about the whole idea of spying on tonight’s meeting. Something besides the risk. Something having to do with…
Oh, my God. Something having to do with not wanting to spy on her father because it would be disloyal to him. Disloyal? Why in the world was she worried about being disloyal? It wasn’t like Eduardo had ever done anything to earn her loyalty. Except be her father. Except let her live. Except provide for her in his own way.
And then the terrible, awful, horrible truth dawned on her. The same truth that had been staring her right in the face ever since Tony’s death. The truth that had made Tony’s murder hurt so bad. How could she not have seen it before now?
She’d never truly intended to run away from her father at all. She’d been running away from something else all that time. She’d been running away as fast as she could from the fact that she still loved her father.
And here she was, bound to a man who’d sworn to take her away from Eduardo at all costs. What in the hell was she supposed to do now?
Chapter 9
A sick feeling settled in the pit of Joe’s stomach at the look on Cari’s face. Buyer’s remorse. Damn! He was as much a prisoner in this house as she was. She couldn’t back out now or he could kiss his butt goodbye.
He’d known it was one of the risks going in. Her sister had pulled a stunt like this nearly a decade ago. Julia had agreed to help Charlie Squad arrest her father, only to back out of the deal at the last minute. While she was at it, she’d gone on to set up the team for an ambush by Eduardo
’s men.
Thankfully, when Julia contacted them a few months ago, she had followed through on her promise to help Charlie Squad. But even then, Dutch, the team member who’d been her primary contact on the op, said she’d had periods of doubt about going through with handing over incriminating information about her father.
What was it about Eduardo Ferrare that commanded such loyalty from his daughters? Neither Julia nor Carina had any illusions about what a monster he could be, nor of the crimes he was capable of. Both of them had feared for their own lives at his hands. How could they still love him? Surely, that was the only reason either woman would remain loyal to the guy.
Was it really as simple as them both living lives so deprived of love that the occasional scraps of attention Eduardo threw at them were all they knew? Is that why they clung to him like they did? Talk about tragic.
Now the question was, could Carina be lured away from her father? Dutch and Julia had been in love once before and fell in love again when they reunited. Unfortunately, Joe didn’t have that past history with Cari to call upon. All he had was the here and now. And he had precious little leverage to use to pry Cari from Eduardo’s clutches.
The only real bond they had at this point was the attraction leaping and twisting between them, and that was a fragile thing, at best. Damn. He’d just have to make what use of it he could.
Over Cari’s head, he glanced at his watch. A little before midnight. He had about an hour to distract her, to get her back on board with the idea of helping him spy on her old man. He hated having to play her like this, but she gave him no choice.
He leaned down slightly, inhaling the clean, sweet citrus scent of her hair. “How long has it been since I told you how beautiful you are?” he murmured.
She replied, “I think it’s been at least an hour.”
“You know, the thing about beauty,” he reflected, “is that when you actually get to know a physically attractive person, they either get a lot more or a lot less beautiful in your eyes.”
She snuggled a little closer to him but said nothing.
He continued, “Before I met you, I thought you were stunning to look at. But now that I’m starting to know you, you absolutely take my breath away.”
Her breath hitched on a little gasp and he dropped a kiss, little more than a light touch of the lips, just below her ear.
“You’re a miracle,” he whispered.
And that did it. She turned in his arms to face him, flowing into him like silk, all but offering herself up for the taking. God, he was a bastard. Here he was romancing an innocent young woman to get her to work for him. How despicable was that?
He started as her mouth captured his in a hungry kiss. She still tasted faintly of the orange she’d peeled and eaten earlier in a sticky, drippy orgy of pleasure that had left him hard as a rock. Just thinking about how she’d sucked on the juicy sections made him hard again.
He tilted his head to better fit their mouths together. He slid one hand behind her neck under her hair, savoring the warmth beneath his fingertips. She tasted like an orange Creamsicle bar, all sweet and smooth. He could eat her up until he was drunk on her.
Her hands roamed his chest and she moaned in the back of her throat. He swept his tongue into her mouth, searching for the source of that delicious sound, breathing it into his chest like pure oxygen.
She came to him with her whole body, flinging herself against him in abandon, breasts smashed against his chest, her thigh wedged between his and rubbing parts of him that didn’t need any encouragement at the moment. He tried to resist her. Tried to hold himself separate. But, dammit, she was all tropical heat and steamy nights, the roar of the ocean and pounding of the surf. Hell, sex on a beach.
And he was the biggest jerk in the world. Here he was, letting her drape herself all over him, enjoying her draping herself all over him. He didn’t want to hurt her, to damage her self-esteem, to turn her off sex or men. He shouldn’t be doing this. He…should…not…be doing this.
Aw, hell. He wrapped his arms around her, gathering her into him, kissing her like there was no tomorrow. He kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her ears, her neck. He sucked her lips, laved her tongue with his, hauled her up against him more tightly, her breasts pressing against him, her thighs giving against the hardness of his. Oh, yeah. He could do this nonstop for a couple of lifetimes.
Her fingertips crept underneath his waistband, hot against his skin. Hello. Parts of him that were already alert zeroed in on those questing fingers. He ripped his mouth free, groaning, and grasped her wrists.
“Slow down, baby. You’re killing me here.”
She laughed against his mouth. “I know the feeling. Kiss me.”
He tried to take it easy, tried to be delicate and tender with her, but then she bit his lip.
He growled deep in his throat and she matched him with, swear to God, a purr. She sounded like a damned tigress as she licked the spot she’d nipped. An extremely self-satisfied tigress.
So she wanted to play rough, did she? He could definitely give as good as he got in that department. He stood up, dragging her with him, shoving his hands under her shirt and reaching between her shoulder blades for her bra hooks. And then a movement high on the wall of the house caught his eye. He swore viciously.
Cari reached up to pull his head back down to her, but he resisted. Reluctantly.
“Sorry, princess. We’re on Candid Camera.”
“I don’t care,” she mumbled against his mouth, arching into him.
He closed his eyes. Lord, he could smell the lust on her skin. And he could bloody well feel the lust raging across his. If that camera were a few feet closer, he’d rip it off the freaking wall.
As it was, the interruption was probably just as well. He needed to get his mind on business, and he certainly didn’t need to go making this a real marriage. A real—
Well, hell. And wasn’t that thought a big bucket of cold water on a guy’s libido?
“It’s cold out here, honey. Let’s go inside.”
Still draped around him much more than he could safely ignore, Cari dropped her head against his shoulder and mumbled, “While I appreciate your gentlemanly urges, next time could you not find them for a little while longer?”
He laughed ruefully. “I’m no gentleman, darlin’. I just don’t like the idea of giving Gunter and Rico a free peep show.”
“Screw Gunter and Rico,” she grumbled.
He grinned but wiped the expression off his face fast as she glanced up at him.
“And I’m not cold,” she stated forcefully.
“Neither am I,” he replied regretfully. “But we’ve got places to go and things to do.”
And that broke the mood, dammit. He had to be some sort of Class A idiot to walk away from Cari’s obvious willingness—hell, eagerness—to engage in some seriously gnarly sex with him.
He shook his head and reached for the French doors, holding them open for her. And as he followed her inside, he turned quickly, grinned and flipped his middle finger at the camera, which was still pointed right at him.
Cari sagged on the foot of her bed, tingling from head to toe. Damn him for stopping! How long had it been since any man had treated her with enough respect to stop of his own volition? a tiny voice in her brain argued back. Hmm. That would be…never. God, how pitiful was that? What did it say about her self-esteem? Some shrink would have a field day with a revelation like that.
“Are you okay?” The deep murmur made her look up at him in the faint moonlight filtering into the room.
She sighed on a half laugh. “I’ll live. But it’s not nice to let a girl get all dressed up with nowhere to go, if you catch my meaning.”
He smiled wryly. “Yeah, I get your drift.”
Without warning, he leaned down and kissed her swiftly, his mouth pressing hard against hers. “Soon, princess, soon. When there are no cameras.”
And then he was gone, moving across the room, stripping off his shi
rt as he went. Faint moonlight played across his back, highlighting the bulges and dips of a glorious set of deltoids and lats. He stopped in front of the chest of drawers that held most of his clothes. She started as he dropped his shorts, revealing a pair of black Lycra shorts cupping arguably the best butt she’d ogled in as long as she could remember. He turned slightly and the moonlight caught him just right. Thank you, God. The fabric clung to him in all the right places, outlining long, powerful thigh muscles, the deep cut up the side of his leg to his narrow hips and another bulge….
She tore her gaze away.
Well, okay, so she cheated and peeked a little. What girl wouldn’t with a hunk like that changing in her bedroom? He pulled on black trousers cut like fatigue pants and a black long-sleeved turtleneck. In the dark clothing, he suddenly became difficult to see in the shadows playing across that corner of the room.
He glanced over his shoulder at her and paused, apparently arrested by the realization that she’d sat there the whole time, watching him change. Far from reacting with embarrassment, his eyes blazed so hot she could see the fire in them from here.
“Go change out of your clothes,” he said roughly. “Put on something black for me.”
Right. Clothes. She stumbled to her feet and across the room to her closet. She stepped into the dressing area, although she was half tempted to change out in the main room in front of Joe. The silk turtleneck she pulled on irritated her sensitized skin. She wanted hands on her body, not this damned shirt! The black cotton jeans weren’t much better against her legs.
She tore her mind away from the things she couldn’t have right now. Ah, but later…
Right now, she had to concentrate on helping Joe spy on her father’s meeting. And the very thought sent cold shivers through her. This was not a good idea. Even if Joe could get past all the cameras and guards and other security measures, it was still a dicey stunt to pull off. And why was Joe so interested in who came to Eduardo’s meeting, anyway? Was he thinking about contacting one of tonight’s guests and asking for help? Surely, he knew better than that. Possibly the only more vicious, more violent criminals in this part of the world than her father were the men he did business with.
