Alejandro (The Santiago Brothers Book Two)
Page 8
After bouncing a few ideas around with his boss, Ale made a failed attempt at sleep. Wide awake, he decided to vent his frustrations, and the punching bag was a perfect target. It couldn’t talk back, would take everything Ale gave it, and it didn’t have a shapely form, blue eyes, or even a sensuously curved mouth.
A squeak on the staircase drew his gaze, and the figment of his imagination appeared, looking up at him from the middle of the stairs. Forgetting the punch he gave the bag, Ale cursed when it knocked him on the side of his head. Audrey climbed the last of the steps, a concerned look in her eyes. With the back of his arm, Ale wiped the sweat from his eyes, unwilling to let it obscure the vision of a woman dressed in a simple white cloth nightgown with rich brown hair falling like waves around her shoulders. She looked absolutely tempting.
She tentatively approached. “Hey. What are you doing up?”
He could smell the floral scent of her hair from where he stood, see the edge of her gown softly wafting over slender legs. His pulse shot up. Heat burned him from the inside out.
“Ale? It’s,” she paused, her eyes taking in his attire, his boxing gloves, “three a.m.”
Then why was she up? Why did she concern herself with his early-morning activities? He closed his eyes to the sight of her. Perhaps he was hallucinating and she really wasn’t standing there. Great, that’s just great. You’re about to make the biggest catch of your career, and you think you’re going crazy. He opened his eyes. No hallucination. Suddenly realizing he hadn’t gotten enough frustration out, he wished he’d gone for a run before hitting the bag. Why can’t I have a moment of peace?
His brother Rafael came to mind. Audrey said he had returned to church. Perhaps he’d call his brother and ask him a few questions. Rafa was engaged to Audrey’s best friend, so Audrey could get Rafa’s number from his fiancée—
She took another few steps forward, the distance between them now only a couple of yards or so. If she came any closer…
“Would you rather be alone?”
No. Without a doubt, yes. He didn’t know. Audrey wasn’t a complication he’d expected. What else didn’t Lana tell him? Did Trujillo know Lana had solicited Audrey to raise her son? Were Trujillo’s men following him, or were they intentionally surveying Lana’s house, anticipating Audrey’s arrival?
She can’t leave the safe house. He could barely stomach the guilt he harbored over her sister’s death; he wasn’t going to lose Audrey or the boy.
He yanked off his gloves and slammed them on the floor. Closing the distance between them, he snatched her into his arms, stifling her gasp with his lips. She fought against him and he tightened his hold, pinning her to him.
Trujillo wasn’t going to have this sister.
Not if he could help it.
His lips ravaged, the tip of his tongue tasting the sweetness of her mouth. Her struggle lessened and slowly her body molded to his, her palms flattening out against his back. Her warmth, her taste, set a haze on his senses. He continued his assault on her mouth, the fire in his belly refusing to wane. When she whimpered and sighed into his mouth, the reality of his actions jolted him. He abruptly released her and she staggered back, shock registering on her face. Breathing heavily, they both stared at each other.
Audrey was the first to speak. Brave. “Alejandro, what is wrong?”
He turned his back on her, unable to answer. What was wrong with him? Only his job. The inability to read Trujillo. The chance he’d been made and Trujillo was setting a trap he couldn’t quite see coming. The thought of Audrey’s life ending at the hands of the same man who killed her sister.
The life he suddenly craved. A woman his body refused to reject. How fast his heart was telling him he needed her. And more. What would come next? Family? Impossible. He didn’t know where his father was, but he hadn’t contacted his mother in more than ten years. If he couldn’t have a healthy relationship with her, how could he hope to have a normal one with Audrey? Wait, relationship?
“Alejandro?”
He gripped his head, his mind spinning out of control. He wanted out. Now.
Eyes squeezed shut, he inhaled her scent floating around him. Warm hands covered his own. His eyes shot open. He stood mute as Audrey gently pulled his hands down to his sides. The compassion — not judgment, not anger for having kissed her into submission, against her will — the empathy in her gaze penetrated deep to his core.
This has to stop. The second he got a break, he’d phone Ruby and get this pent-up frustration out of his system so he could concentrate on what was important: his job. Not the woman standing before him now, easing him into an unfamiliar, yet strangely comforting territory, silently encouraging him to release his inner demons into her caring hands. He barely knew her. She knew even less about him. “You can’t leave the safe house.”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“The safe house. You have to remain here at all times. At least until the end of the week—”
She released his hands and took a step back. “That’s not going to work for me.”
His eyes narrowed on her. “What?”
“Mel and I have arranged for me to see an attorney — hear Penny’s will. Then I have to visit Angel’s school to get his records—”
“Wait, wait, wait.” He held his hands up, shaking his head. “When did all of this happen?”
Her jaw hardened, as did the look in her eyes. He was in for a fight. Although electrified at the prospect of seeing the spitfire in her again, a sudden wave of exhaustion slammed into him, and he wasn’t sure he could take another hit to the—
“It’s happening because Lana died. I can’t put my life and Angel’s on hold indefinitely. I understand danger still exists, but you’re not the only capable agent around here.”
He cocked a grin at her. “No?”
“No,” she answered firmly, hands on hips. He copied her stance; the mocking gesture only seemed to embolden her. “We’ll be all right.”
He offered her a sardonic moment of consideration before answering. “No.”
“No?”
“Won’t happen.”
She boldly stepped forward. “Are you forbidding me?”
The thought of her contradicting him shot a wave of desire through him. Punishing her would be fun. Exhaustion waned. If he was going to get any sleep at all, he’d missed his chance. “Yes,” he breathed quietly.
Her voice equally low, she said, “Try to stop me.”
He grinned. She’d soon discover his record against challenges.
Chapter Six
“AUNTIE Audrey? Wake up, Auntie Audrey.”
Audrey moaned. What time was it? If only she’d stayed in bed last night instead of walking up to the loft to see Alejandro—
Her arm shook. She opened one eye. Angel peered at her closely, his tiny hands shaking her arm.
“Auntie Audrey, are you awake?”
Audrey smiled. She wondered how long it would take Angel to consider her family.
His eyes came close to hers, his tiny lips pursed. “Auntie? I see your eyes, Auntie Audrey.”
Audrey giggled. She reached out and pulled Angel close. He squealed with laughter. She planted a heavy kiss on the top of his head. “Yes, I’m awake, sweetie.” She picked up her cell phone from the nearby nightstand and groaned when she read the time. “What are you doing up, Angel? It’s not even six o’clock.” She yawned and propped herself on her elbow. She turned the switch to the light on the nightstand. Angel crawled into bed and cuddled close.
“I want Mommy.” His muffled voice didn’t hide the pain.
Releasing a sigh, Audrey hugged him tightly, stroking his silky straight hair. “I know, baby.” She wet her lips. What could she say? She hadn’t even seen her sister in years, and now she would never see her again. She blinked back tears and fastened her hold on Angel. “Do you remember what Mrs. MacGruber said? Mommy is in Heaven now.”
“She doesn’t want me anymore?”
Audrey
’s heart broke. “Of course she does, sweetie. I’m sure she misses you more than anything, and one day you will see her again.” She kissed the top of his head. “But I’m here. Whenever you want to come and talk about your mommy and cry, I’ll be here to hold you tight and tell you stories about her that will make you laugh.”
Angel’s head came up, and his red eyes bore into Audrey’s.
“Auntie Audrey loves you. Will you be okay with me?”
Angel nodded and buried his face back into her stomach.
A throat being cleared caused Audrey’s head to snap up. Ale leaned in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, a solemn look on his face. Instantly, her mind flashed to the kiss they shared just hours before. She couldn’t boast of many kisses in her life, but that one erased the memories of all others. Knowing he’d kissed her out of desperation didn’t damper her opinion of the act or the man. He alone carried a heavy burden, and she and Angel were added complications.
She wished he didn’t have to worry about her or her nephew. Unfortunately, Penny had made a terrible error in judgment associating with Trujillo, and now Audrey and Angel were paying the price. They’d have to see this through to the end. After returning to her room, her fervent prayers were for their safety and the success of the operation. She’d spent little time over her — what could she call it? — association with Ale, convinced the kiss meant little to him. It was late, he was exhausted, and sweaty…
Eyes scanning him, he was dressed in black jeans and a tight-fitting black T-shirt, complete with a black leather jacket. “Are you going somewhere?” Audrey asked.
Ale nodded. “I have case-related stuff to do.”
“At the office?”
He didn’t respond right away. Even though she was surrounded by warm covers, and with Angel’s tiny body giving off heat, Audrey still shuddered as if cold. She’d seen plenty of movies and television shows, and if life imitated art, Ale lived a dangerous life as an undercover agent. She feared for him more than she realized. “No, not at the office.”
“Are you taking precautions?”
Ale’s eyebrows came together. “You’re asking me about precautions?”
He hadn’t forgotten their conversation last night. Well, neither had she. She had Mel. Who did he have? “You aren’t taking any unnecessary risks, are you?” Audrey held her breath, waiting for his response. Of course he did. She didn’t question his ability to do his job, but Trujillo killed her sister; she wouldn’t think of what he could do to Ale.
Lips curved up to one side, Ale practically sneered. “You don’t think I can take care of myself? Not as well as Mel can take of you?”
Angel wiggled in her arms and turned to face Ale. Audrey smoothed down his hair, spiked from the static electricity. Well, he had spent a long time away from Virginia and his mother. Taking care of himself was probably what he did best. She met his gaze, smiling. “I did get the jump on you at Penny’s house.” His smile vanished and his eyes became slits. That got him. Cheeks heating, Audrey chuckled.
“Did Auntie Audrey beat you up, Marshal?” Angel asked.
Audrey’s laughter filled the room, and Ale left the doorway and entered the room. She sucked in her lips, her shoulders trembling from the laughter she struggled to suppress. Ale’s green eyes danced with humor, although he kept a straight face.
“She likes to think she did.” He ruffled Angel’s hair, negating the progress she’d made on making it look presentable. Audrey immediately began smoothing her nephew’s hair.
“Mommy used to wrestle with me.” Angel’s quiet voice dispelled the cheerful atmosphere.
Ale’s smile waned. Both he and Audrey sighed simultaneously, and then exchanged glances.
Ale squatted, his face level with Angel’s. “How ’bout this, kiddo? I’ll teach you how the professionals wrestle.”
“Really?” He leaned forward. Audrey didn’t need to see his face to feel the hum of anticipation from his body.
“Really. And I’ll show you how to counter,” he paused, catching Audrey’s eye, “girlie attacks.”
“Alejandro,” she whispered sharply. His dimples made it hard for her to be mad at him.
“Deal?” Ale held out his hand.
“Deal!” Angel placed his tiny palm in Ale’s large grip and they shook. Enjoying the effort made to make Angel feel more comfortable, Audrey smiled. She recalled how his mother, Mrs. Santiago, would ask for prayer in church. She’d led a difficult life as a single mother bringing up three boys. How did growing up without a father affect Alejandro? He couldn’t even say the boy’s name. Was this all for show, for Angel’s benefit? Audrey appreciated the display of affection, even if it wasn’t real.
Ale glanced up at her. “You said last night you had plans with Mel today.”
Audrey nodded. “She’s coming by later this morning and taking us to Penny’s attorney’s office for the reading of her will. After that, I have to run a few errands for Angel — make sure I have all of his paperwork from school. Penny had him in a gifted academy.”
“I knew you were a smart kid.” He tickled Angel, who responded with peals of laughter.
“You won’t be too late, will you?” Audrey asked softly. Ale stopped tickling Angel and met her gaze. The air between them stilled. Why did she ask such a question?
“You cooking me dinner or something?”
Audrey rolled her eyes at his smart comment. She wondered why she blushed, but found it easy to picture the three of them sitting at the dinner table, sharing a meal together. “No, I’m not cooking you dinner.”
He gave her a lazy grin. “Too bad. I’d rush home if I knew a beautiful woman had dinner waiting for me on the table.”
Neanderthal. Did he really think she was beautiful, or was he just teasing her? Audrey opened her mouth, but couldn’t summon a sharp retort. Instead, she physically responded, her neck warming, and her cotton nightgown sticking to her back, thanks to the perspiration.
Ale laughed softly at her silence, and then stood. “I’ll try not to be too late.” He held out his hand and Angel gave it a slap. “See you later, buddy.”
“Bye, Marshal!” Angel waved vigorously. Ale returned a wave and winked.
“Bye, Marshal,” Audrey echoed, and he was gone.
“Auntie Audrey?” Angel’s head fell back, his green eyes looking up, searching for hers.
“Yes, Angel?” She hugged him close and he relaxed against her.
“I like the marshal.” He yawned.
Audrey smiled into his hair. She stared at the empty doorway where a darkly handsome marshal stood a few moments before. His smile and warm green eyes — even his smart aleck jabs — everything about him made her agree with her nephew. “I like him, too, Angel. I like him too.”
****
“El Jefe wants this in Florida by the end of the week?”
Ale backed away from the car, his eyes on the back bumper. He’d installed a small tracking device inside the bumper in order for the DEA to track the car. As with all the previous shipments he oversaw, the DEA would monitor the vehicle, and then gather information on the recipient of the product before making an arrest. He moved to the front of the vehicle. The rusty color of the ’67 Chevrolet gleamed in the sunlight. The car, beautifully restored to its original glory, had no fault other than the drugs stashed in the hidden compartment in the dashboard.
Ale glanced at José. In forty-eight hours, the DEA would take José into custody, and with any luck, he’d make a statement implicating Trujillo, strengthening the San Antonio DA office’s case against the multiple murderer drug lord. “In two days.”
José scratched his week-old, gray-black beard before smoothing the front of his grease and sweat-stained shirt. “Um, why so soon?”
“I know you haven’t run in a while, but we’re cutting down our delivery times. This customer especially wants the product as soon as possible. Can you handle it?”
“Por supuesto, of course. Do you have my travel documents?”
>
Ale reached into his back jeans’ pocket. “Sure.” He pulled out a plane ticket for one-way travel from Miami to San Antonio, dated two days from today. He held them out to José, who took the document. He read the ticket before folding it in half and placing it in his front jeans’ pocket.
“Anything else, hombre?”
Don’t screw this up. Alejandro licked his dry lips. The mini-operation seemed easy enough. He’d completed his part by installing the tracker. The drugs were already tucked inside a compartment behind the middle of the back seat. He’d received a text from the DEA in Miami, confirming their receipt of the tracker’s signal. Having no reason to check the bumper unless he got in a car accident, José would deliver the vehicle on time and right into the DEA’s hands.
And Trujillo would have even more reason to suspect a narc was inside his operation.
That couldn’t be helped. Ale personally oversaw the preparation of this vehicle, and he’d blame any misfortune on José, who’d be in custody — talking. With any luck, Ale and Trujillo would keep news concerning José’s arrest between the two of them. If they didn’t, Carlos might alert Alba to another lost shipment — if Trujillo didn’t kill him first.
“No.” He shook José’s hand. José got behind the wheel and started the engine. A few workers called his name and waved as he pulled out of the parking lot. Ale casually strolled away from the workers. Pulling out his cell, he sent a quick text to the DEA agent in Miami in charge of the operation on their end, confirming the shipment was on the move.
Ale glanced at the time on his cell. Seven o’clock. He headed inside the garage. A quick glance at the manager’s office on the second story saw Trujillo standing near the open door, his eyes on him. Ale suppressed a tremor of fear. Something was off. The way Trujillo was looking at him — he was compromised, but he couldn’t quit now, not with Alba days away from showing his face in San Antonio. Ale did a mental check of his activities in the last few days as he went to the lockers to grab his work shirt. He was careful in all his statements with Trujillo concerning the drug business, and although Trujillo’s men had followed him to Lana’s house, they weren’t able to provide a positive ID on the large, dark man with long hair.