by Cherry Adair
She gnawed on her bottom lip. She wanted more information. “Who are you, anyway?” she asked.
He tilted his head to one side. “I’m Juan Castillo. I’m a government official in Argentina with private holdings in several companies. Would you like to see my ID?”
“Yes,” she said without blinking an eye.
Juan glanced to his side. “We’re being watched. Let me get in the corner and you can act like you’re leaning into me while you look at it.”
“What? But—” She broke off when she glanced over his shoulder and saw creepy John Harris looking at her. “Okay, but if you try anything, I’ll do something—” She searched her mind for a threat and couldn’t come up with anything. “—awful.”
“Such as?” he asked, moving to the corner.
“Spit on you.”
His lips twitched as he held up the ID. Hilary studied it, bummed that she wouldn’t know a forgery from the real thing. “Okay, I guess. But what if you’re a sadistic monster and you’re lying to me?” she asked, fighting the loss of her control.
“Unless you have polygraph handy, you’ll have to trust me.”
Hilary frowned. “Trust a man who would buy a woman from a human-trafficking ring?”
His mouth tightened. “I told you. I’m in a hurry.”
She looked at him for a long moment. “Would you take off your glasses?”
He didn’t respond.
“Take off your glasses and swear that you’ve never forced a woman to have sex with you.”
He swore in Spanish under his breath but lifted his glasses, so she could see his eyes. He had dark, dark eyes rimmed with sooty black eyelashes. Sexy-looking. In another situation, she reminded herself.
“I swear I’ve never forced a woman to have sex with me.”
His gaze was bold and direct, and he didn’t look at all as if he were lying. He didn’t look at all as if he would need to force a woman to have sex with him.
But she still needed more information to find Christine. Maybe tonight she could learn something, she thought, struggling with the reality that her freedom of choice could be ripped away from her so easily. “Is there any way you could let me think about this overnight and come back tomorrow?”
“No,” he said, irritation bleeding through his tone as he put his glasses back in place. “Someone else could buy you.”
She laughed in disbelief. “Trust me. There won’t be a stampede for my services.”
“You never know. That other buyer keeps looking at you. You know how men are. If one man wants you, then the others take a second look.”
That was true, she supposed, feeling uncomfortable. “I could do something to discourage him.”
“And get yourself in trouble with Mr. Harris. What do they do to the troublemakers? Drugs or intimidation?”
Her stomach twisted and she bit her lip. She really didn’t want to be drugged. More than anything she needed a clear head. Should she gamble on this man? She didn’t have much time. How could she persuade him to help her get Christine?
“Do you have a lot of money?” she asked.
He paused. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m just curious. Do you have a lot of money? Say, enough money to buy more than one woman if you wanted?”
“I’m only buying one,” he said firmly. “I only need one.”
“But do you have enough to buy another? If you wanted?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a dog?” she asked, trying to get a bead on his personality.
“No,” he said. “I have a parrot. What does this have to do with—”
“What about charity? Do you ever donate to charity? Do you buy Girl Scout cookies?”
“We don’t have Girl Scouts in my country.” His jaw clenched. “But yes, I donate to charity.” He glanced over her shoulder. “No more questions. The other buyer is coming this way.”
Rick approached John and pressed the note he’d written before entering the compound into the man’s hand.
John smiled. “You have found one you like. I’m very happy to serve you.” He glanced at the note. “This will do if the other buyer isn’t interested. We may need to hold an auction,” he said in a sly tone.
“You assured me I would receive a private introduction. I’m not interested in an auction.”
“Then perhaps you should choose another girl.”
Rick ground his teeth. “I can send other buyers your way. Do you want to jeopardize that?”
John lifted his hands. “Now, now. No need to rush to offense. We don’t even know if my other buyer will be interested. Have another drink.”
Rick didn’t want another drink. He wanted to get the job done and get the hell out of there. He didn’t want Hilary to have too much time to think or she might do something crazy in protest. The more he looked around the room, the more he felt the sick oppression in the air. He looked at the other young, naÏve women. Who knew what would happen to them? A bitter taste filled his mouth. Would it be that difficult to blow this operation? A few plastic explosives, a call to the FBI . . . Break a few of John Harris Slavinsky’s bones . . .
And another man just like him would pop up with the same operation. Human trafficking had a lot in common with roaches. Both had been in existence since the dawn of time.
A woman delivered a drink to him and tried to make conversation, but he cut it short and dismissed her, watching Hilary all the while.
The other buyer finally left her side and ventured over to John. Rick was standing close enough to hear part of the conversation.
“He can have her. She’s a nutcase,” the buyer said.
Swallowing his amusement, he wandered toward the bar and waited for John to approach him. The tide had turned again.
John clapped him on his shoulder. “Mr. Castillo, you’re a lucky man. You may have the lovely lady for your asking price plus transportation and processing fees.”
“Transportation and processing fees?” Rick echoed. “You didn’t say anything about transportation and processing fees.”
“Mr. Castillo, as a businessman, you know there are always extra costs along the way. Transporting the candidates from their hometowns, arranging for beauty services and clothing. And security, of course.”
“I’m paying a prime price. In cash,” Rick added. “It’s your job to incorporate your fees into your price.” He paused. “Perhaps I’ve been too hasty.”
John froze. “You are changing your mind? But you have already given me a written offer.”
“And you’re changing the fee structure. Maybe I’m overpaying,” he said, resenting every penny he was giving this sleazeball even though the pennies weren’t his.
“I assure you that you are not overpaying,” the Russian man said in a clipped tone, his accent leaking in with his anger. “The woman you’ve chosen is everything you requested and more.”
“I want a cash discount,” Rick said, sensing he had an edge. He would return the extra cash, but he liked the idea of decreasing Slavinsky’s profit margin.
John’s eyes widened. “A cash discount. Everyone pays cash.”
“Mine is waiting for you in my limo. You can have it tonight.”
John paused, shifting his shoulders. Rick saw when greed took over. “You plan to send other buyers my way?”
Rick nodded. “As long as I’m happy with your service.”
Harris wiped his mouth. “I will offer a one-time ten percent discount, but do not tell this to your friends.”
“Twenty,” Rick countered.
“Fifteen,” John countered.
Rick extended his hand. “Done. I want to take the woman with me tonight.”
“She may require extra persuasion,” John said. “We have pills.”
Rick smiled. “I look forward to the challenge of taming her.” In actuality, he suspected he was in a no-win situation with Hilary. Something told him she was still trying to find a way to rescue her friend.
“Just make
sure you don’t hurt her in the state of Texas. That could make things messy for everyone,” he cautioned. “I’ll give you the pills in case you change your mind.” He paused. “We don’t accept returns,” he said in a low voice. “But in your case, I can offer additional training for her if you should need it.”
“I’ll take care of her training.”
“As you wish,” said John Harris Slavinsky, aka Slimeball.
Tottering on her high heels, Hilary hustled to keep up with Juan Castillo as he led her out into the winter night to a long black limo waiting in the circular driveway. Still dressed in the blasted slutty Santa suit costume that had been given to her, she shivered in the chilly night. Creepy John Harris wouldn’t even let her have a coat. Despite what she’d told Juan boy about her foundation garments, the staff at the estate had only provided her with a thong, garter and stockings, and sheer underwire bra.
She couldn’t wait to ditch the slut suit for cotton undies, a pair of jeans, and her Tweety Bird sweatshirt. As soon as she scrubbed the pound of makeup off her face and washed the starchlike hairspray from her hair, she might start to feel human again.
Juan opened the car door for her. “After you.”
She looked at him again, with his dark glasses and powerful body, and felt afraid. Glancing around, she wondered if she could bolt.
“There’s an electric fence surrounding the property, armed guards, and dogs,” he said as if he’d read her mind.
She made a face but got into the limo. It was nice and cozy with a well-stocked bar. As soon as Juan slid beside her, she turned to him. “Could I please have my suitcase and purse?”
“Later,” he said, tugging loose his tie. “Jensen, head for Houston. We can stay in an airport hotel and catch a flight in the morning.”
Panic roared through her. “Flight?” Hilary echoed. “I’m not ready for a flight.”
“You don’t have to be,” he said, pushing a button to close the window between the chauffeur and the back of the limo. “We’re not leaving until tomorrow.”
“But I don’t want to leave the country,” she said.
“Not that it’s your choice to make, but we’re not leaving the country first. We’re visiting some of my friends.”
“I don’t want to visit your friends.”
“You don’t set the itinerary, Señorita. I do.”
“But I thought you said you would negotiate. That you wouldn’t force me.”
“I’m not forcing you to have sex,” he said.
Hilary frowned. “Listen, I have a much better idea,” she said. “I know of another girl John Harris interviewed who would be perfect for you. And since you’ve already bought me, I bet you could get her at a discount.”
“I already negotiated a discount on you.”
She opened her mouth and closed it without speaking, uncertain whether she should be relieved or insulted. She cleared her throat. “Which makes my idea even better. I think you would be especially pleased with this other girl. She’s prettier than I am and is better at hostessing. I have to be honest. I flunked charm school.” She could see she was getting nowhere and she wished he would take off the damn glasses.
She swallowed the metallic taste of desperation in her mouth. “Plus, I think she actually likes sex, so that could work out better, too,” she offered.
“Then why do I need you if she would be so much better?” he asked.
“Well, I can offer some extra academic information to entertain your guests. She and I could work as a team.”
Juan leaned back against the seat and stretched out his long legs. He appeared to consider her proposal. That was good, she thought hopefully.
He turned toward her. “Are you suggesting a threesome?”
Hilary was so shocked she couldn’t keep her eyes from bulging in their sockets. She deliberately blinked and looked away. She bit her lip. A deal with the devil. Sometimes a girl had to do what a girl had to do. “Well, that could be part of the negotiation,” she lied, knowing full well that the only bonking that would take place would be when she bonked Juan boy on the head so she and Christine could escape. Until then, she would promise the man the moon.
Hilary spent more than an hour explaining to Juan why he should talk to John Harris about purchasing Christine. She just knew that if cash was dangled in front of John Harris, he would somehow produce her friend. If Christine hadn’t been bought yet. She couldn’t consider that, she told herself. She would have continued all night long, but he told her that if she didn’t take a break, then the answer would be no.
A clock inside her ticked louder with each passing hour and it had nothing to do with her biological clock. She had a bad feeling about what might be happening with Christine.
The limo pulled into the parking lot of a hotel with suites and Juan waited in the vehicle while Jensen checked them in. After Jensen returned with keys, Juan escorted Hilary to the elevator and up three floors to a suite. Jensen followed with a carry-on bag and gave it to Juan at the door.
Hilary stepped inside and turned to close the door, expecting to finally get a moment to herself.
“Not so fast,” Juan said, stopping the door with his hand. “We share the suite.”
Hilary’s heart stopped. “But I thought you said you weren’t going to force me.”
Juan rolled his eyes. “To have sex. But you don’t think I’d be foolish enough not to protect my investment, do you?”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’ll take the couch while you take the bedroom.”
She relaxed a millimeter.
“In case you get any ideas about leaving.”
Her stomach knotted again. She was at this man’s mercy. Swallowing over a surge of panic, she refused to focus on her fear for herself and began to plot and scheme. If she couldn’t convince Juan to buy Christine soon, she had to get away.
“I’d really like my clothes.”
“I’ll get something for you to sleep in,” he said.
Irritation prickled at her. “Why can’t I have my suitcase? There are other things I need.”
“Such as?” he asked.
“Female things,” she retorted desperately, hoping to embarrass him.
He didn’t blink an eye. “I’ll make sure you get what you need.”
“I’m hungry, too.”
“Room service will deliver club sandwiches in fifteen minutes. Why don’t you go ahead and take your shower?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t want a shower.”
“Fine. Be dirty. I have a few things I need to take care of.” He turned away from her and walked to the kitchen area, immediately removing a tray of stainless steel flatware and cooking utensils from the drawers. He carried the flatware and cooking utensils to his suitcase and locked them inside.
She stared at him in confusion. “I thought you were well off. Why are you stealing the flatware from the hotel?”
“I’ll return them before we leave for the airport in the morning,” he said calmly.
“Where are we going?”
“To visit my friends in California.”
“I can’t,” she said. “I have to—”
He lifted a dark eyebrow. “Take a deep breath and accept it. We’re going where I say we’re going.”
Chapter Three
AT THREE A.M., HILARY LAY IN THE KING-SIZED BED AND stared wide-eyed at the ceiling. She’d tried half a dozen different ways to get out of the room. Juan had foiled them all. She was starting to suspect he wasn’t from South America. He was watching an American basketball game on television and she’d noticed his accent had begun to fade.
Turning on her side, she frowned. He didn’t seem to mind staying on the sofa. If he were truly a wealthy South American government official, wouldn’t he demand the best bed? The best food?
Certainly not a club sandwich, she thought.
She wondered if he was just a courier and perhaps she was being taken to someone
else. His friends.
Her stomach twisted. Who knew what the other people would be like? Rising from the bed, she walked to the window again and looked down. It was a long way to the ground. If she jumped, she hated to think about how many bones she might break, if she even survived.
There had to be a way out. There had to be. For the fiftieth time, she looked around the room for something, anything, that could help her escape. Her gaze landed on a lamp.
Rick heard a high-pitched scream pierce the air as he watched a rerun of The Man Show on cable. He glanced at his watch and sighed. When was she going to give it up? It would have been nice to hand Hilary over to her parents at the hotel, but the agency coordinator, Roz, was big on providing a complete mission. In this case, everyone wanted Hilary in California away from the human traffickers, away from the temptation of going after Christine.
He was tempted to tell her that he’d been hired to take her home to her parents, but he wasn’t sure that was the best strategy, and, hell, he had only a few more hours before he would be escorting her on the flight to California.
Hilary screamed again and he swore under his breath. The other things she’d done to try to get away had been a nuisance, but the screaming was a problem. He didn’t want to have to use his last resort so early in the game.
Hilary screamed again. “Help! A rat! A rat!”
Rick rolled his eyes and rose from the sofa. “A rat, my ass.” He wondered what she was going to try to pull this time. Maybe a room change or a hotel change that would give her the opportunity to run.
He stood outside her door. “Your door isn’t locked. You can come out here if you want.”
“No, I can’t,” she said. “The rat is right next to the door. I’m afraid of it.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he muttered and opened the door. He took one step forward and felt something heavy strike his head and back. Pain shot through him, stunning him. He stumbled.
“Sorry,” she whispered as she sprinted past him. “Really sorry.”
“Damn,” he said, going after her, but his feet felt sluggish and wouldn’t move fast enough. “Damn, damn—” He watched her open the door and disappear down the hall.
