Inferno : Ensenada Heat Book 1

by Tess Summers

  She’d cut her hair and dyed it brown. It wasn’t much in terms of a disguise, but she didn’t have the resources for more than that. She would make it back to her little cabin in Arizona to retrieve her money and personal effects when the dust settled, but in the meantime, she was surviving on what she could steal or borrow. While she was confident no one knew about her little place tucked away in the mountains near the old mining town of Bisbee, crossing the border would be difficult—especially as locked down as it had become with the migrant caravans from Central America headed to the US. She wasn’t taking any chances—not when her former employer wanted her dead. She was safer in Mexico, for now.

  It wasn’t until she read her obituary on the website of Fargo’s daily newspaper, The Forum of Fargo-Moorhead, that she felt it was safe enough to return to Dante’s. She’d need to figure out a way to contact her mother and Reagan someday, but it was probably for the best if they thought she was dead. They’d be in less danger that way.

  Being on the estate—with Dante’s security on patrol and Dante himself here—Kennedy finally let her guard down and burrowed into the thousand-dollar linens. She fell into a long-overdue slumber while waiting for the man she loved to come to his bedroom and discover her.

  The familiar scent of Dante’s cologne filled her senses, and she felt her body being lifted and manipulated until she was in his lap, wrapped in his huge embrace with the bedding still half around her. His strong hand held the back of her head as he kissed her hair and whispered, “My dear, sweet Bella, thank god you’re alive,” while gently rocking her.

  Clinging to him, she murmured, “I’m so sorry you were worried.”

  He pulled away to look at her face, staring at her in wonderment, then pulled her back against his chest.

  “I can’t believe you’re here. If I’m dreaming, don’t wake me.”

  With an exhale, he laid her out in the bed, fixing the linens around her, then stood and stripped down to his black boxer briefs before sliding in beside her. Once again, she was in his arms, and the skin-to-skin contact made her break out in goosebumps.

  “I love you, Kennedy Alicia Jones,” he sighed.

  She stroked the hair on his chest.

  “I love you too, Dante Mateo Guzman. I’m back forever.”

  Her words seemed to settle his soul, and soon they were both fast asleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Dante

  He opened his eyes to the morning sun filling his room. Judging by the brightness of the light coming through the windows, it was already mid-morning. He’d slept better than he had in weeks—three weeks, to be exact. Kennedy was still in his arms; it hadn’t been a dream. But how? How was she here?

  At the moment, Dante didn’t care. He’d find out the how soon enough.

  Watching her sleep, he realized she’d cut and dyed her hair. He preferred her long, naturally red hair—but he didn’t care if she was bald, as long as she was in his bed again.

  Her face looked gaunt, and his soul ached at the thought of what she’d had to endure over the last three weeks. The fact that she was lying next to him proved what a badass she really was, and he’d never make the mistake of underestimating her again. He’d also never make the mistake of leaving her alone again.

  As if sensing she was being stared at, her eyes fluttered open, and she greeted him with a bright smile when she found him watching her.

  “Good morning,” she said softly.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Have you been awake long?”

  “No, I slept like the dead, since I was finally able to breathe again. Ironic, I know.”

  Her lips turned up in a closed-mouth grin.

  “I completely understand.”

  “Do you want me to bring breakfast up here, or should we go downstairs together?”

  She shook her head. “You have a mole, Dante. That’s got to be how the CIA knew I was here willingly, which is why they want me dead. I need to stay hidden.”

  “I know. I’ve taken care of it.”

  “You do? Who was it? It wasn’t Rosa or Maria, was it?”

  The idea made him laugh. Those two women had doted on him his entire life. The chances of one of them betraying him were as good as his own mother doing so, if she were still alive.

  “No, it was Eduardo, and he has been dealt with.”

  Kennedy grimaced. “Aw, Eduardo? I know he had a little girl. Rosa and Maria were always bringing in frilly baby outfits for her. I hope you’re going to make sure she’s taken care of. You know the CIA isn’t going to.”

  “I didn’t kill him.”

  She cocked her head in surprise. “No?”

  “No. I think letting him live may come in handy down the road, should the CIA come knocking on his door again. There’s no way they’ll think he’s been discovered if he’s still alive to tell about it, so they might try their luck with him again.”

  “That’s pretty smart, actually.”

  Dante smirked. “You know Stanford doesn’t just give those MBAs away, right?”

  Keni rolled her eyes. “Somehow I don’t think Cartel Strategy 101 is on Stanford’s curriculum.”

  His smirk turned into a smile, and he winked. “Good point. But!” He held up his index finger. “Personnel Management is, and it’s the same concept.”

  Leaning over to kiss his cheek, she cooed, “The brilliant Stanford grad.”

  He slid his arm around her middle and pulled her closer just as her stomach rumbled loudly. He chuckled, and she giggled, saying, “I guess I’m a little hungry.”

  Dante kissed her hair. “When was the last time you ate, Bella?”

  “Hmm...” She furrowed her brows as she considered his question. “I grabbed a croissant off the counter last night when I snuck in.”

  “And before that?” He pulled her out of bed, admiring her naked body before handing her a robe.

  She put it on, but hesitated before answering his question, as if she had to think about it.

  “I don’t really know. The last three weeks have been an exercise in staying out of sight as much as possible while trying to stay alive.”

  “You should have come here. I would have taken care of you.”

  “I couldn’t risk it.”

  “I’ve doubled my security staff—”

  “I noticed that, yet I was still able to sneak inside last night. You need to make some improvements,” she scolded.

  They started down the stairs to the kitchen.

  “Why don’t you work on that later with José, the head of security?”

  Before she could respond, Rosa and Maria were hugging her.

  “Oh, Miss Ruby! You’re okay! We’ve been so worried!”

  Dante knew Kennedy had shoved the women into the pantry the afternoon the CIA came for her, in an attempt to keep them out of harm’s way. The two abuelas had been beside themselves with worry ever since, asking him for updates daily. He’d started to avoid them; he hated having to say out loud every day that there was no word on her whereabouts, or even if she was still alive.

  “Ladies, her name is actually Kennedy, but we’re probably going to have to change that.”

  Keni gave a melancholy smile and a big sigh.

  “I hadn’t thought of that, but you’re probably right. Any ideas for a new name?”

  To him it was obvious.

  “Bella, of course.” Then with a raised eyebrow, he added, “Guzman.”

  She snorted. “I guess I can make up any name, I want, huh?”

  He had to fight to keep the growl from escaping his throat as he told her, “You’re marrying me for real.”

  Kennedy patted his cheek as she walked toward the orange juice and coffee carafes on the kitchen table.

  “You really need to work on your proposal skills, Stanford grad.”

  He caught her by the waist, spinning her around and dipping her before planting a kiss on her mouth.

  “I’ll take that under advisement,” he murmured
against her lips with a small smile before standing her upright and pulling out her chair for her.

  Just then John walked in. His eyes widened when he caught sight of her, and he broke out into a wide grin.

  “Sonni Templeton! It’s about damn time you showed up.”

  This confused Rosa.

  “Wait—I thought her name was Ruby, but it’s really Kennedy, yet she’s going to go by Bella Guzman, and now you’re saying a completely different name.”

  Dante kissed the sweet lady’s cheek. “It’s an inside joke, bonita. She’s Bella from now on.”

  He sat down across from Keni and, using his foot, pushed out the chair on the end for John.

  “So,” his best friend said as he sat down. “What the hell happened?”

  ****

  Kennedy/Bella

  She didn’t get too graphic as she told the story of how she escaped. She left out the part about her mouth being on Pervy’s genitals. Dante would understand—although it would hurt him—but it wasn’t necessary to the story; Rosa, Maria, and John definitely didn’t need to know, so she omitted it. Instead, she focused on the exhausting swim to shore and how she’d managed to remain hidden for the last three weeks.

  “I really need a professional cut and color,” she lamented while examining the ends of the crudely chopped and mousy brown strands between her middle and ring fingers.

  “I can have my stylist come to the house,” Dante suggested.

  Kennedy pressed her lips together to keep from teasing him about having a stylist, but John picked up that ball and ran with it.

  “Did you just say you have a fucking stylist?”

  Dante furrowed his brow. “Yeah. Why?”

  “A stylist?”

  “Who the fuck cuts your hair?”

  “Well, since I have a set of balls, I go to a barber.”

  The Mexican made a show of rolling his eyes.

  “Americans. So insecure with their masculinity.”

  John chortled and took a sip of coffee. “Whatever, dude. You have a stylist.”

  Kennedy interjected. “Well, I would love for your stylist to come do my hair, so if you could arrange that, I’d be ever so appreciative.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “How appreciative?”

  Her smirk matched his.

  “I just told you. Ever so appreciative.”

  He leaned back, nonchalantly throwing his arm along the back of the chair next to him with a twinkle in his eye.

  “You can do better than that, Bella.”

  Maria set a plate of pancakes in front of Keni, and her mouth began to water from the smell alone. She was ravenous but trying to be polite and not inhale her breakfast, like she had done as a kid on Monday mornings at school, after going all weekend without eating.

  “I’ll show you how grateful after breakfast,” she teased.

  “Trying to eat here,” John said obnoxiously as he shoveled a forkful of omelet into his mouth.

  With as much restraint as she could muster, she took her time buttering her pancakes before pouring syrup over them and taking a glorious bite.

  She closed her eyes, savoring the taste. “Best breakfast ever, Maria,” Kennedy called—in Spanish so the woman could understand her compliment.

  That brought a smile to the older woman’s face, and she cupped Kennedy’s cheek in adoration after she set Dante’s breakfast on the table in front of him.

  “Estamos tan contentos de que hayas vuelto, mija.”

  “I’m glad to be back,” Kennedy responded, kissing Maria’s knuckles as she affectionately squeezed the woman’s hand.

  She was glad to be back. This was the one place Kennedy had ever felt like she was truly home—although she conceded that was probably going to change. She would no longer have free rein to roam and come and go as she pleased, as she had when she was playing the part of Ruby Rhodes.

  Freedom was a beautiful thing, and she was going to miss it. But being safe and with Dante was worth it.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Kennedy/Bella

  She was standing at the kitchen island, laughing with the two housekeepers, when she glanced over at Dante at the table and noticed him watching her with a thoughtful smile.

  When she returned his smile, his face changed. Kennedy knew what the look in his eye meant, and it made her toes curl with excitement. He never failed to make her feel desirable, like she was the only woman on earth he wanted.

  Sliding his chair out, he stood and sauntered toward her with a knowing smirk, offering her his hand.

  “If you’ll excuse us, ladies, we have a lot we need to get done today.”

  Kennedy took his hand, allowing him to escort her out the door.

  “First, I’m going to make love to you, then I’m going to fuck you rough and hard,” he whispered in her ear as they ascended the stairs.

  “Can’t we do that in reverse?”

  She peeked over her shoulder to gauge his reaction, and found him with a lopsided grin.

  “Yeah, we can do that,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Good.”

  They reached the bedroom, and his hand came around the back of her neck to guide her through the door. Once inside, the door slammed shut when he shoved her body against it. One of his hands was around her throat while the other untied her robe and yanked it open to expose her naked body to him. He palmed her tits, kneading the flesh before tweaking her nipples. The pain was brief before turning to pleasure that shot straight to her pussy.

  Kennedy tugged on his robe, opening it as his mouth enveloped hers in a frantic kiss. She began to grind shamelessly against his boxer briefs and the hard cock underneath them.

  Tugging on her hair, he panted against her neck, “On the bed—on all fours, ass up. Now,” then sank two digits inside her soaked pussy.

  Um… now? Can’t we wait a minute? She tilted her head back against the varnished wood as the feeling of being pleasured overwhelmed her senses.

  He moved his thumb in circles over her clit, hissing, “Now, Bella.”

  This was a test of her willpower, and she was failing miserably. She didn’t care—as long as he kept fingering her.

  “Spread your pussy,” he demanded.

  Kennedy immediately complied, widening her stance as she leaned against the mahogany door, and pulling herself apart. Dante delivered repeated slaps to her clit, making her moan. He chuckled, “It’s impossible to punish you, little one. You like it too much. Your cunt is getting wetter.”

  He curled his finger inside her pussy, making a come here motion as he hit her G-spot, while polishing her nub with his other hand. She began to tense, and he increased his tempo to a frenzied pace until she fell against his chest while the orgasm ripped through her.

  “You sexy fucking bitch, you just squirted all over my hand.”

  Sorry, not sorry.

  Pulling his fingers from inside her, he slid them into her mouth for her to taste herself. “On the bed, on your fucking knees, now,” he growled.

  She scampered to the mattress and quickly got into position—head down, ass up. He pulled on her hips, dragging her to the very edge of the bed so he could slam his cock deep inside her drenched pussy while he remained standing. He didn’t even give her any time to get used to his size, immediately relentless with his thrusting. The sound of slapping skin filled the room, along with her whimpers and his grunting.

  The guttural noise coming from him was almost feral, and he was pounding her like a beast possessed. His balls smacked her sensitive clit every time he plunged inside her heat, and along with his sexy growling, it sent her into another orgasm. Crying out his name as she went over the edge, her pussy milked his thrusting cock, which didn’t miss a beat. His groans became shorter and faster, his fingertips tightened on her hips, and his rhythm became erratic as he emptied himself inside her. Dante bent over and leaned onto her back, his arms reaching around to palm her tits and briefly tug her closer to him.

  “Fuck, Be
lla,” he panted as he rolled onto his back. Reaching over, he pulled her on top of him, and she burrowed her face into his neck.

  Their hearts felt like they were pounding in time with each other, even slowing at the same pace until their breathing evened out.

  “I’m sorry, Kennedy,” he said softly.

  She lifted her head, wrinkling her brows in confusion.

  “I didn’t use a condom, and I didn’t pull out. I should have asked you. I know you don’t want to get pregnant yet.”

  This was her opening.

  “Too late,” she whispered in his ear.

  ****

  Dante

  What the fuck did she just say?

  He held her chin between his thumb and knuckle of his index finger.

  “What did you just say?”

  God, he didn’t want to get his hopes up in case he had misunderstood her.

  “We’re having a baby.”

  Dante moved his hand from her chin to clutch her biceps.

  Holy fucking shit.

  HOLY FUCKING SHIT.

  “Are you sure?” He still didn’t want to give himself false hope.

  “I took a test yesterday morning.”

  He tried to dampen his elation and keep the smile from his face as he somberly asked, “Are you okay? I know this isn’t what you want.”

  She seemed offended, and curtly replied, “I never said I didn’t want a baby. I just didn’t see how I could have one with you or while working for the CIA.”

  “And now?”

  “Well, since my agency tried to kill me, I think it’s safe to say I’m not going back there. And since I’m hoping they think I’m dead, I guess as long as I stay in disguise and keep a low profile around here, it’ll be okay. I’ll just need to figure out how to reconcile your cartel activities with my conscience.”