“Miguel, you fool. Why would you go after Margarita?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
His mother had been right. He was a fool. By the time he’d organized backup, wired himself and added other necessary precautions, an hour had passed. He searched for the address Margarita had given him. It was an old building in Providencia fronted with a restaurant and apartments above. Uncomfortable, he nevertheless left his car parked on the street, made his way past the hungry patrons seated at the tables in front and climbed the staircase located to the side of the front door. The stench of overheated cooking oil, onions, and ripe garbage convinced him never to choose this as a place to eat.
“Amigos, are you in place?” He murmured into his mic. His team should have arrived to guard the exits by now.
“Si, Jefe. We are ready.” Miguel had passed around photos of Nick, and they all knew to be on the lookout, to protect him in case anything went wrong.
He knocked on the door in front of him and waited. Sobbing and cuss words filtered through from the wall behind, followed by the sound of a slap and a man’s disgust. “Silencio!” Miguel expression turned from grim to brutal but his business wasn’t to interfere in a domestic disturbance. He had a friend to save and a woman to pay back.
The door in front of him opened, and the man framed in the light wasn’t someone he knew or cared to know. Big, hairy and disgusting was Miguel’s first impression. A slight noise behind him warned, even as the gun poking in his ribs pushed. Just as he’d suspected, he’d walked into trap. Good.
“Welcome Señor big-shot. We’ve been waiting for you.” The blob spoke to the guy behind him. “Carlos, stay there. Guard the door. “
Miguel sauntered into the room. Margarita had been right about one thing. Nick had been captured once again. The ropes tying him to a chair looked very uncomfortable, as did his face, bound and showing evidence of a recent beating. Surveying the room, Miguel noted three other men twenty feet away sitting at a round table playing cards. They looked at him, sneered and went on with their game.
Miguel shook off the hand that clutched his shoulder and strode near his friend. He leaned over him. “Nick, I came as soon as possible. I couldn’t believe they’d gone after you again.” No one else saw the faint wink. He turned back to the armed man and demanded. “Why do you insist on torturing this man? He hasn’t offended the Colombian government in any way that I know of.”
The sleazebag opened his mouth and then closed it. He let a sneer replace the words he’d meant to speak and gestured behind Miguel who turned.
A tall, debonair man dressed in a black suit, numerous waves in his short wet hair, entered from a room in the back. He chuckled and replied with a distinct edge to his cultured voice. “He lives and that fact alone is abhorrent to me. Five years ago, my mother left my father, left me, and married his rich old papá.” A finger pointed to Nick. “That scum’s father will give much money to keep his son alive. Everything had been arranged for the ransom in Colombia until you interfered. Well, this time, you’ll suffer the same fate. We leave tonight. I will contact your families, both who’ll pay millions to get back the bodies, because trust me gentlemen; they will never again see you alive.”
“Trust you? That’s funny. I don’t even know your name.”
“I am Rodrigo Reyes de la Barrera.” At the same time he spoke, he clicked his heels and bowed theatrically.
“And I am Mrs. Reyes de la Barrera.” Margarita sauntered into the room, her skin-tight short dress showing too much cleavage. She had a body that made men salivate while her sapphire eyes turned them to fools, a fact Miguel could personally attest to. Makeup, piled on thick, gave her the look of someone about to perform on stage, and her long black hair, her pride and joy, usually coiffured beautifully, looked messy and undone.
What he’d ever seen in the tramp, Miguel didn’t know. Fairness prompted him to admit that she hadn’t shown him this side, but still, he’d always believed himself a good judge of character.
“Hello, Margarita.” His calm smile scared her. He saw this, and satisfaction settled over him.
The idiot with the gun interrupted after the nod from his boss, and waved Miguel towards the other chair waiting near Nick’s. “Stop there and turn around with your hands in the air.” He frisked Miguel, removing the weapon from his side holster and placed it behind him on the nearby table. Then he slid his hands up and down Miguel’s lower body with a leering grin.
The idiot never knew what hit him. The karate chop to the side of his face happened that fast. One minute the brute had control, and the next minute Miguel was restraining him, using him as a human shield. Miguel, his weapon cocked and aimed directly at Rodrigo, never wavered. Margarita hid behind her husband, but Miguel saw her hand reaching under his jacket from the back and knew exactly what her intentions were.
“Margarita?” said Miguel. “Did you know that if shot in certain areas; bullets can pierce right through a body and kill the person behind? I’d stop what you’re doing right now and step away.” She did so quickly.
The three card players had risen and were now slowly approaching as Miguel, towing his shivering hostage, inched his way backwards to stand by the wall.
“Stop there. Come any closer and I’ll kill your boss first.” Miguel’s eyebrows rose along with the sides of his mouth. Enjoyment was obvious in his face. They listened, and then looked at Rodrigo for confirmation.
His hands, out in front, gestured for them to stop and they did. He said with a sneer. “My men have the building covered. You’ll never get away. I suggest you give me back the gun, and I will stop these fellows here from having fun with your pretty face.”
Margarita stepped out from behind Rodrigo and inched her way to back out of the room, but again Miguel called to her. “Don’t move, woman. The party wouldn’t be the same without you.”
She stopped. Uncertainty ruined her earlier audacity. Miguel watched her expression change to that of the same woman who had been his fiancé. “I’ve missed you, handsome. Don’t sneer. You always did know how to treat a lady.”
“Too bad I wasted my talents with a bitch like you. So glad you took matters in your own hands and ended our relationship.”
“Oh, Miguel. You are a fool. I’ve been married since I was sixteen. Rodrigo forced me to be his accomplice.”
Just then, the door flung open. Four men carrying a battering ram spilled inside. They quickly took control.
“Miguel, you are okay?”
“Si, amigo, I am fine.” Looking straight at Margarita, he declared. “Cuff this trash and secure the place. Then call the policia.”
Miguel bent down to release his friend and take off the tape from over his mouth. “Nick, do you need medical care? I’ll take you to the hospital.”
“Hospital, no way pal. I want to go to the first bar we see and celebrate. I can finally relax. This nightmare has been going on far too long.”
“Here, let me help you.” Extracting the overlooked, hidden knife from his boot, Miguel cut away the ropes with ease. We’ll go for one drink, and then I must leave you. You’ll have to gather other friends to help you celebrate. Tonight is my wedding night, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“You were married today and I didn’t know?”
“No, not today. A few days ago in Washington, but tonight we will be together for the first time.” Seeing the frown on Nick’s face, he continued. “We’re cool. Don’t worry.”
After an hour with the police and two drinks at a well-known bar with Nick and the team, which included a lot of backslaps and handshakes, Miguel made his way to his vehicle. He sat white knuckling the wheel and allowed his mind to travel to the places he’d refused to visit earlier.
Margarita’s face haunted him as he unleashed his thoughts. She’d led him on for months, promised to marry him, and as it turned out, had been instrumental in his capture in Colombia.
Memories of the evidence she’d leaked in the interview room at headqu
arters had him wriggling with discomfort. Promises of light sentences and deals with the prosecuting attorney had loosened her tongue. Seems he’d been set up from the beginning, him and Nick. According to the beautiful betrayer, at sixteen her father had married her off to Rodrigo, and her husband had forced her to join in on the scam. She’d been their snitch, blabbing all of Miguel’s secrets to Rodrigo, who it turns out, held a position of power in Colombia, as did his father. Once they knew exactly when and where he’d be landing, his capture turned into a certainty.
Meanwhile, Rodrigo spilled his guts in the adjoining room. Only his story went differently, that it had been Margarita’s idea to keep Miguel for ransom, not his. Revenge on Nick the stepson of his deceitful mother had spurred him on, nothing else. It had been Margarita who had convinced him that hostaging political prisoners, plus two rich hombres, would be smart and lead the trail away from the family link.
According to Rodrigo, the devious bitch had also prompted Miguel to store his sperm with his brother’s In Vitro clinic with the sole intent of becoming pregnant with his heir after his death. Except that due to some mix-up at the clinic, his banked deposits had been destroyed. Rodrigo described Margarita’s furious rage when Felipe’s death had screwed everything up even further and she’d been forced to give up on her wicked intentions.
Sick and sad, Miguel’s head lowered into his hands. Tears seeped through. How could I have been so foolish? He remembered his cocky manner whenever they’d go out in public to meet up with his friends and associates, evenings where he could show her off, her beauty, her sexiness.
Madre de Dios! I wanted that evil woman to be the mother of my children! A shudder raced from one side of his body to the other and doubled when it hit the back of his head. Losing any chance of physically fathering children made the sadness settle deeper. In the back of his mind, he’d known about his banked sperm and had decided he could accept a child born using this procedure. After all, Rafael and Carrie-Anne had been artificially insemination babies, and they were perfect. Now that was never to be.
Thinking of children brought his wife to mind. She’d never turn out to be like Margarita, sly and deceitful. He swiped his hands over his damp cheeks and calmed. Now in a hurry, Miguel wrenched the key, stomped on the gas and screeched away from the curb.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sheri stewed about the phone call she’d overheard. With the excuse of needing to get ready for the celebratory dinner, she retreated to their private suite and released her fury through curses and tears. They welled from her eyes as she rocked Rafael to sleep in her arms, her precious baby, Miguel’s son. That reminder made the tears flow faster.
Carrie-Anne had gone down easy, but Rafael seemed fretful, probably from all the excitement of new faces and strange surroundings. Once cuddled to his mommy, he’d given over and let himself drift off. Unable to shut down the water-works, she sniffed but continued to pat his back, caressing his soft hair and even softer cheeks. He looked so peaceful. She put him in the crib next to his sister, and like a magnet, he turned to Carrie-Anne in his sleep.
How cute. Sheri muffled her sobs, collected the baby monitor, and tiptoed from the semi-dark, beautifully decorated nursery. At the door, she gazed back at the soft lighting from giraffe-like wall sconces, and surveyed the faint patterns of all the animated jungle creatures decorating the large space.
She returned to the living room and plunked herself down onto the sofa. How could Miguel abandon her on the first day in Chile? The rotten jerk! Leave her, all of them to go after Margarita. Did their marriage mean nothing to him? All of a sudden, she felt glad she hadn’t divulged her secret. A man who could treat his new family so lousy would be capable of anything.
Her anger made her feel tense. She gnawed at the side of her finger and at the same time thought back to earlier. During her visit with Andrea, she’d actually experienced pride in her husband and pity for his scandalous treatment and his ultimate loss.
Well, not now. Knots in her stomach created a nausea that forced her to slump down and rest her head on her knees. The lunch she’d eaten earlier while visiting with Andrea felt like a congealed ball in her stomach, and just knowing she’d be expected at the dinner table soon had her hands fisting. I can’t do it! No, won’t do it!
She thought back to her last conversation with Miguel. He’d implied that tonight would be their honeymoon, their first time together, knowing each other as man and wife. Well he could whistle Dixie in the wind before that would happen. If he even attempted to come near her, as Charly would say, she’d let him have it with both barrels.
A ringing stopped her inner harangue and she searched for the source. On the wall, hung an intercom and she soon realized that someone wanted her to answer.
“Yes?” She spoke soft and low so as not reveal her distress.
Andrea’s voice sounded clear. “Sheri, would you like to join us for drinks in an hour? Don’t worry, if you wish, Juan can make you a non-alcoholic beverage. Since our dinner hour is late here in Chile, normally after eight, we won’t be eating just yet, so if you’re hungry now, Maria did tell me she filled your kitchen with snacks, a variety of fruits and biscuits.”
“I’ll have to decline, Andrea. I’m beat. I’ll just go straight to bed and see if I can’t sleep through the night. I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
“It’s Miguel who’ll be disappointed. He’s driving into the yard as we speak.”
“Then I’m sure you’ll be happy to spend time alone with him.” She realized her snippy attitude filtered into her words, but she couldn’t care less. If she had to speak with him right now, he’d be sorry and she’d be packing.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Sheri, querido. I know you aren’t asleep, stop pretending.” Husky and compelling didn’t begin to describe his tender voice.
She’d tried, even took a pill, but her brain wouldn’t stop. Anger did that to her. Refusing to answer, she turned her back. The bastard went to the other side of the bed and hunkered down to her level. His aftershave tickled her nostrils and an involuntary sigh of pleasure escaped before she could muffle it. “Go away.”
“Cariño, sweetheart, you’re right to be angry. I’m sorry to have left you alone all day and to get home so late. I had unfinished business that had to be attended.” Did he mean he’d ended things with Margarita? If so, those words soothed. “I deserve to be shot or at the very least horsewhipped. You are right to be angry.”
Arrggh! Nothing irritated her more than having her fury justified by the culprit himself. “I’m not listening. I have a headache.”
“Poor baby. Let me help you.” Before she knew he would, his hands began to massage her bare shoulders, up her neck and into her hair. Massaging her head, he gathered handfuls of her hair and sifted and fondled the wayward curls, clean, soft and sweet smelling from her bedtime bath. He leaned in and rubbed his face into the mass, which almost brought her clean off the bed. No one had ever made love to her hair before, and it broke down the last of her resistance.
Finally, he straightened and again began to stroke her. Like supernatural instruments, his fingers wove magic into her skin so that every cell tingled from pure pleasure. The moan she’d tried to hold in by biting down on her lip escaped, and his moan joined with hers.
He levered himself next to her on the bed and shifted her over to make room. His hands never left her body. As they worked a spell, her snit slowly began to fade, replaced by tingles and longings. The camisole to her pj’s covered only the bare essentials therefore he had access to a lot of skin. He didn’t miss much with palms large enough to cover a lot of space. Warm turned hot, and the intensity turned her bones to mush.
Hard, then soft, his fingers reached all her stress points. His hands lifted her arms out from under her head and raised them to the top of her pillow so he could soothe that skin as well. Rubbing from the tops of her fingers, down her arms, then her shoulders towards her back, and then down her sides altered her sig
hs to groans. She began to push herself upwards like a cat arching to the touch from a beloved master.
The tips of his fingers followed the shape of her body and pressed down, caressing the curves of her flattened breasts. There. Oh, God yes. Like a direct current, the electricity started her muscles clenching and her body weeping. Words, like she’d never heard before, streamed from his lips as he leant over her.
“Chica linda. Mi bella esposa.”
She answered with only one word. “English.”
His chuckle made her smile. “I called you my beautiful girl. Sheri, you are so lovely.” His gentle hands continued their journey. Molding and rubbing her until, fluid-like, she began to writhe.
“Your skin is incredibly soft, like silk or velvet or…” The moan he couldn’t hold back complimented more than his adjectives. Gathering her hair out of his way, he again buried his face in her curls before nuzzling her shoulder and licking his way up to her neck. “I want to kiss you everywhere. Your back.” His lips carried out his will. “Your front.” He turned her slowly and his hot mouth followed his hands around and under her arm to where her nipples awaited, swollen and throbbing. “And your breasts.”
Face to face, the faint light from the wall lamp beside the bed highlighted his features. The expression of gentle caring, his eyes filled with hunger and passion undid the ties to her scruples. She raised her arms and by doing so, gave her silent permission for him to do with her as he wished. It’s been too damn long.
He stood and peeled off his shirt and slacks before again lowering himself beside her. Slowly, he lifted the quilt away from them both and slid his arms around her to scoop her nearer. His frame bent over her, blocking the light and she closed her eyes. As if he couldn’t stop, Spanish words flowed at the same time as his hands roamed.
The Ultimate Romance Box (6 Bestselling Romance Novels) Page 30
