by Tarah Scott
Larissa gave a laugh, small though it was, and Ben was glad.
“I thought you didn’t like them,” she said.
“We’re not bosom buddies,” he admitted. “But they will do everything possible to bring her back safely. We have a better chance of saving her if we work together.”
“They said nothing about informing you of this latest development,” she said.
“I imagine not. I’m low man on the totem pole. They’ll fill Captain Medina in on the details. Now tell me where you left things with Sanchez.”
“We received a second phone call from him ten minutes after his first call. He knows Ms. Monahan isn’t at the hotel and wants to know where she is—of course, you are his top priority. He wants to know who you really are.”
“Does that mean he wants you to speak with Juan Soto?”
“No. He said to leave Soto to him.”
“Larissa, if Sanchez questions you about Soto, tell him that your husband approached him a week ago, right after Sanchez kidnapped Christina. This is very important. Soto is out of the country, which means Sanchez can’t get in touch with him immediately. That also means you couldn’t have spoken with him recently. Don’t offer any information, but if Sanchez asks, have the answer ready. Tell him that your husband spoke with him immediately after Sanchez kidnapped Christina and Soto said he would send Adam Billings to you. Your husband can say that he didn’t want to say anything until he’d met me.”
“Speaking of meeting you,” Larissa said, “Mr. Sanchez wanted to know why you were Ms. Monahan’s date.”
“What did you tell him?”
“She needed a date, and we believed it was a good way to make your presence at a fashion designer party seem natural.”
Ben grinned. “Mrs. Remmey, you’re a natural.”
“I don’t know about that,” she said. “Mr. Sanchez is a persistent man. He has reason to question everything, at this point. I fear Francis and I are no match for him.”
“You’re not facing him alone,” Ben said. “Do you have any idea where he is? Any clues at all? Any background sounds? Did he say anything about meeting with you?”
“No.”
Ben hadn’t thought so. “Remember, he won't harm her as long as he believes you're of use to him.”
“There is one other thing,” Larissa said.
Ben braced himself. What else could there possibly be?
“Sanchez is insisting that we prove our loyalty by beginning with a shipment of women across the border.”
“He can’t be serious,” Ben said. “He’s got to know the cops will be watching every move your husband makes.”
“Yes. He made it perfectly clear that if not for the fact that he needs us to find you, he would have already killed Christina. Here’s the thing, Mr. Hunter, Francis can easily arrange a shipment with another exporter.”
“You mean bring someone else in on the operation?” Ben asked.
“Not exactly. That would be too dangerous. But we can use another exporter’s trucks. The shipment would look like it’s coming from the other exporter, but it would be our goods that are transported. In truth, we’ve known all along we could do this, but we didn’t tell Mr. Sanchez. The last thing we wanted to do was give him another way to use us.”
“But Sanchez finally figured out that angle,” Ben said.
“Yes.” Her voice broke. “How can we possibly doom other girls to the same fate from which we are trying to save Christina? But if we don’t agree…”
“I don’t think you’ll have to send other girls to their doom,” Ben said. “I believe I know how to handle this. Can you give me a few hours?”
“Yes,” she replied. “We are not to call Mr. Sanchez until tomorrow morning.”
“That’ll do,” Ben said, and hoped like hell Medina agreed with Ben’s idea.
* * *
By the time Ben disconnected the call, a hundred questions swirled through Liz’s head, but she bit her tongue and listened to his summary of Larissa Remmey’s news. There was something he wasn’t telling her, but Liz agreed to wait for answers until after he called headquarters. After dinner, Ben led her into the den. His father excused himself and took R.W. and Hal with him, leaving them alone.
Ben sat on the couch beside her and said, “I'm going to have to leave you here. Officers will be assigned to guard you.”
She'd expected this. Throughout dinner she'd fought off the memory of his kiss by running through a dozen scenarios, all of which ended with Ben leaving and her hidden here at the ranch. She didn't like what either of those elements implied: that she was a prisoner, and Ben had to risk his life to free her and Christina.
“What does your father think about my being here?” she asked.
“He's agreed to keep you safely hidden here at the ranch.”
“He's not worried about the danger to his men?”
Ben gave an impatient shake of his head. “The boys can handle Sanchez’s goons if they show up.”
“I told Richard that me filling in for Tanya was a bad idea,” she muttered.
That earned her a small smile.
“You're going after Mr. Sanchez, aren't you?” she said.
“It's likely I'll enter Mexico under the guise of facing the charges.”
What had changed in the last hour? She didn't know Ben Hunter well—she didn't really know him at all—but she wouldn't be surprised to learn that her not going back was his plan, not the FBI's.
“I thought the FBI wanted us both to return,” she said.
“There's absolutely no doubt Sanchez will come after me in Mexico,” Ben said.
“He won't wonder why you're returning alone?”
“We have someone to play your part.”
Liz blinked. “Who did you get that can pass for me?”
His brow furrowed. “You don't worry about it. The only thing you're going to worry about is staying put in this house.”
She shook her head. “Can't do that.”
He looked nonplussed, then his expression darkened. “You're going to do it, even if that means I have to hogtie you and—”
“Whoa, there, cowboy. There will be no hogtying, and no more orders.”
“Liz—”
She laid a hand on his arm. “Ben, it's not what you think.”
He hesitated, clearly torn between making good on his threat and listening. “What is it, then?” he demanded.
“I won't stay here—”
He started to interrupt.
“Hush,” she ordered. “I won't stay here. There’s no need. I can go to another hotel.”
Ben shook his head. “I’m not leaving you in public without me.”
Liz couldn’t stop a laugh. “You said I would have protection.”
“You will. Here at the ranch.”
“A safe house, then,” she said.
He stared as if not understanding.
“Too cliché?” she asked. “What do you call it?”
“You'll agree to protective custody, but won't stay here? Why?”
“Because I won't involve your father and his men. Don't argue,” she said.
“We'll get him, Liz.”
She nodded. “I have no doubt you will. But you're assigning officers to me anyway. Much as I hate putting them in danger, I understand that's their job. I simply won't agree to involve anyone else.”
Ben grasped her hand. “Give me a couple days. The Feds are putting together an operation. This could be over fast.”
“We need it to be over fast, and since Mr. Sanchez doesn't yet know where you are, it's better I'm tucked away somewhere before he discovers your identity and tracks you here to the ranch. Once you go to Mexico, he'll know who you are and he's sure to send someone to the ranch looking for me. Not to mention, it's very possible he'll find out who you are before you return from Mexico. One way or the other, once he discovers your identity, this will be the first place he looks.”
For an instant it seemed he would argu
e, then he released her hand and nodded. “All right.”
She released a breath. “I'll need to fill Richard in as much as I can. I'll need my laptop and things from the hotel.”
A gentle smile softened his face. “This has been an eventful twenty-four hours. Call Anderson and I’ll make a few calls of my own. Then we’ll have a drink. That’ll make you feel better.”
She doubted that. She wasn't going to feel better until the Remmeys’ granddaughter and Ben were safely back home…and Carlos Sanchez was behind bars.
Chapter Eighteen
“Stop worrying,” Liz ordered Richard. The door opened and she looked up from the notes she'd made to watch Ben enter the den. “Catch your flight to Dallas,” she told Richard. “I'll be all right.”
“You’re to do everything the police say,” Richard said. “You got that?”
“I’m not arguing,” she replied.
Ben lifted a brow as he sat on the couch beside her and she wanted to throttle him. He would pick this moment to return.
“I know how you can be,” Richard said.
“Hold on,” she began.
“No,” he cut her off. “I've already spoken with Nina.”
Liz groaned inwardly. She'd hoped to talk to her before Richard did.
“She agrees. We can handle everything until this is taken care of.”
“There's no telling how long this will go on,” Liz said. “I can work remotely, so there's no need to worry.”
“You're due some time off,” he said.
“Time off?” She caught the look of interest on Ben's face. “That's ridiculous,” she said. “We're in the middle of preparing the fall line and Mrs. Remmey introduced me to—”
“We're well aware of the situation,” he interrupted. “The fall collection’s progressing smoothly, and Brenda and I will handle LaRouche.”
Liz's heart sped up. “Brenda's great, but she doesn't have the experience to handle a client like LaRouche. Not to mention, they're expecting the Creative Director, not the Head Designer. We can't take a chance that they think this problem will get in the way of our ability to deliver.”
“That's right,” he agreed. “Which is why I’ll be working closely on the project with her.” Liz’s heart fell, but before she could say any more, he added in a gentle tone, “This is a temporary solution, Liz. I know how much LaRouche means to you. We're not cutting you out.”
Her heart constricted. “Of course not.”
“No one here could live with the knowledge that work jeopardized your life. You understand, right?”
“Of course,” she answered.
“Look,” he said, “we likely won't meet with LaRouche for a month. I'll talk to the authorities. If they think that this Sanchez lacks the resources to track you remotely, I'll talk to Nina about allowing you to access the files online. You can review everything, give your okay just like you would if you were here. Let's hope that by the time we meet with LaRouche, this'll be tied up.”
She looked at Ben and started to say 'things better be tied up by then' but realized the mistake. He didn't need any more guilt. Pressuring him to resolve the case quickly could lead to carelessness—or desperation. They’d been lucky once. She wouldn’t risk his life a second time.
“You're right,” she said. “We can't take a chance on any snags with LaRouche. If everyone feels it's safe, I'll contribute plenty from here.” She smiled as much for Ben as to put conviction into her words. “You know me, I don't hold back.”
“We'll work it out, Liz,” Richard replied, and she heard relief in his voice.
She'd really mucked things up when she went looking for Ben at Larissa's party. In hindsight, the idea seemed about as stupid an idea as she'd ever had.
“I won't be able to tell you where I’m staying,” she told Richard. “But that won't matter. If you need anything and can't get a hold of me, you know who to call.”
“I'll get word to you about work,” he said, then, “Liz…”
“Yes?”
“Be careful.”
She released a breath. “That’s exactly what I intend to do. Let me know any news once you find out.”
“Will do. Bye.”
She said bye and tapped the phone screen to end the call.
“Bad news?” Ben asked.
Liz set the phone on the coffee table. “Just business.”
He covered her hand with his and squeezed. “We'll get him, Liz. I promise.”
“Just be careful,” she said. “Right now, you're the Remmeys’ granddaughter's best chance.” And hers.
Ben smiled. “I'm the soul of caution.”
“Sure you are.” His large palm still covered hers. An embarrassing warmth rippled through her. “The sun isn’t even down yet.” She shifted and he removed his hand. Liz met his gaze. “How can things have gone so wrong in less than a day?”
“Sanchez isn’t going to give us breathing room.”
Liz nodded. “What's the word on my accommodations?”
“We have a place in Las Cruces.”
“New Mexico?” she blurted. “That's fifty miles away. How did you go from me staying at the ranch to leaving the state?”
“You did say you didn't want to involve anyone.”
“I think—” She stopped as realization struck. “You're responsible for this.” His jaw tightened, and she realized he thought she was blaming him for the situation. “Me going so far away,” she quickly clarified. “I won't involve your family, so you're sending me away.”
“The captain feels it's safer if we get you out of El Paso,” he said.
“But what if something happens?”
His expression softened. “Like what?”
Her mind raced. “I don't know. It just seems so…far away.” She should like the idea. Instead, it scared her—a lot. Maybe she should have agreed to stay at the ranch.
“Getting you far away is the idea,” Ben said. “There's nothing you can do to help. You have to trust us to catch Sanchez.”
“Yes,” she said with dawning realization. “Being far away, out of touch, doesn't change anything for me, does it?”
“I think you'll miss me, after all.”
Worse, she was worried about him, more worried than she should be for a man—a young man—she'd only just met.
“I will be immensely glad when you're back safely,” she admitted.
“Me too. Come on.” He stood and extended a hand.
“Time to go already?” she said.
His faint smile faded. He grasped her hand and pulled her up—and into his arms.
Liz stared at the expanse of white cotton shirt taut across his chest and her stomach did a flip. She didn't dare look up.
“Ben.” She shook her head and pushed at his chest.
His arms tightened around her. “It's not time to go just yet.”
The husky note in his voice caused her to raise her eyes. He stared down at her, blue eyes dark with desire. Her knees went soft, betraying her again.
“I know you're scared, honey.” He brushed a lock of hair from her face and a flutter skittered across her insides. “If I had my way, I would lock you up here at the ranch—with me.”
A heartbeat of silence passed before she said, “But you won't be here.”
He gave a single shake of his head.
“Ben,” she whispered, “this can't go anywhere.”
“There you go again, getting caught up in numbers, Liz.”
Her reply was cut off when his mouth covered hers. She was scared. Scared Sanchez wouldn't get caught, scared the Remmeys’ granddaughter wouldn’t come home, and scared Ben would end up MIA…scared he would come back and then… She gave into the warmth and security of his arms. She would regret it five minutes from now, but five minutes was a lifetime.
Liz flattened her palms on his chest and slid her hands up and around his neck. Ben's tongue plunged inside her mouth. She sparred with him, thrust her tongue deeper, then sucked his tongue into her mou
th. His hold turned fierce. Her breasts flattened against his chest. He groaned and her head spun. Liz felt as if she were falling, then realized he was lowering her onto the couch. She sank into the cushions and his weight settled on top of her. Shock ricocheted through her at the strength of his erection.
The warm pressure of his palm on her ribs sent a shiver through her. His mouth slid from hers downward along her cheek to her neck as his hand moved upward. His lips found the sensitive spot where neck met shoulder and he sucked as his palm covered a breast. Liz arched into him, lost in the sensations of his mouth and hands. He gently kneaded her breast and the ache building in the rigid peak traveled downward where it collided with the throb between her legs. If she shifted just a little, he would settle between her legs and…
Ben seemed to read her mind and undulated his hips against her. The rigid length of him dug into her and she suddenly ached to have him closer, feel his skin on hers. He lifted his head from her neck and her heart thundered even louder when his mouth lowered to the breast he'd been kneading. He nipped at her nipple through the fabric of her shirt and soft cup bra. Pleasure streaked through her and she gasped. Ben froze and Liz threaded her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and urged him closer.
He groaned, then levered onto his elbows and looked down at her. “You're damned beautiful.” Her cheeks warmed. “That blush only makes you more beautiful.” He released a slow breath. “I want you, Liz, and God knows, I'd take you any way you would have me. But our first time won’t be a quickie—especially given that I won't be in your bed to follow up. I'm not going to chance you thinking that's all I've got to give—or all I want.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “I do have some sense.”
Ben shoved to his feet, pulling her with him. He tucked her under his arm and started toward the door. Liz noticed a slight limp and glanced at his legs.
“That's your fault,” he said.
She jerked her head up. They reached the door and he stopped and looked down at her.
“When this is over, I'm going to finish what I started.”
Liz's mouth went try. One way or another, she was in trouble.
Chapter Nineteen
Fifteen minutes later, Ben hit the number three on his phone, then kept his gaze locked with Liz’s while the phone rang.
