by Debra Webb
As he walked away she hugged her arms around herself. The still cool air whipped around her bare legs. Who wouldn’t shiver? Without the sun it was downright cold. Just stop picking at it, Casey. She headed for the café. Come on, sun, she urged. She was not a fan of cold. How Lucas and Victoria tolerated Chicago weather she would never understand.
Speaking of Lucas, as soon as she had cell service or a hotel phone she needed to check in with him. Give him an update on what she had so far. But she’d need privacy from Stark to do that. Maybe she’d have Lucas check Stark out. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about giving answers of her own.
The screen door whined as it opened, then slammed behind her. Two men had claimed one table. Across the room another accommodated a couple. Faded signs from similar joints on both sides of the border decorated the yellowed walls. The long row of windows that lined the front no longer sported curtains but the rod that had once held them remained, collecting dust. Most of the chairs presented had one leg too short, while the vacant tabletops lamented years of unkind treatment. The tile floor was uneven and in need of a serious scrubbing but the awesome smells emanating from the kitchen made up for all that and then some.
The waitress greeted Casey with a smile and told her to take the table of her choice. She selected the one closest to the back of the dining space and the employees-only kitchen entrance, then settled into a chair facing the front of the place. Better to have one’s back to the wall and eyes to the front if one was to be prepared for an unexpected attack.
Stark walked in, only he didn’t let the screen slam as she had. He surveyed the place, spotted her and headed that way, moving as soundlessly as smoke and every bit as smoothly.
Despite her best efforts, she watched him move, enjoying the show on far too many levels. She really had to figure this being-single thing out. It was as if dumping the cheating knucklehead she’d dated for a month had somehow tripped some sort of running-out-of-time sensor. Shaking her head to clear it, she picked up a menu and stared at the words, blurred by memorized images of Stark striding toward her.
He pulled out a chair and sat down. “Anything appealing on the menu?”
“Huevos rancheros sound good to you?” It was the first item on the menu and the only one she’d actually read at this point. No need for him to know this.
“Just about anything sounds good right now.”
His gaze settled on hers and she quivered inside. Casey looked away. She was shaking only because she was starving, she told herself. She flagged down the waitress and ordered the food and coffee along with juice.
“We’re only about half an hour from the city.” He leaned back in his chair. “Hotel first?”
She faced him and wished she hadn’t. They’d traveled all those hours in the dark with scarcely the ability to see anything. Now, as the sun climbed above the mountaintops, its warm rays reaching through the glass, she couldn’t stop inventorying the details of his face. The day’s beard growth looked appealing on him. The lack of sleep didn’t even show. Instead of looking haggard, he looked rumpled and as sexy as—
The waitress plunked two mugs of coffee on the table, then two glasses of juice. She promised to be right back with their meals.
“Gracias.” Stark gifted her with a smile that had the waitress floating back to the counter.
Casey had made a terrible mistake. She had miscalculated her ability to ignore her mother’s recently amplified brainwashing efforts. Clearly that was the only answer to her current behavior. That and sleep deprivation and frustration. How many times was she going to inventory those excuses?
“Hotel first. Yes.” She nodded enthusiastically. Imbecile!
The food arrived and saved her from herself. Casey dove into the eggs, refried beans and tomato-chili sauce with slices of avocado and guacamole. The juice was a heavenly blend of beets, carrots and cucumbers. But the best was the rich, dark coffee with just a touch of cinnamon. Just like the little Mexican place back home in L.A. made. Dinner there had been a Wednesday night ritual in the Manning household.
In no time she scarfed up the food and swallowed the last drop of coffee, closing her eyes to savor it. Anything, she could face anything now. Her eyes drifted open; her entire being felt rejuvenated. The sound of a sigh—her own unfortunately—snapped her to attention.
Stark was watching her. Staring at her, actually, a forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth. He blinked. “You really were hungry.”
“That was splendid.” The first descriptor that had popped to mind she refused to say out loud. Her mother would say it wasn’t proper table conversation to include the word orgasmic. She needed to get her mother out of her head! “I can’t believe they serve up such a tasty entree in a place that fits in so well with the scrub and tumbleweeds.” More to the point, she couldn’t believe she was unable to keep her head on straight around this guy.
Stark devoured the bite he’d had aimed at his mouth. “I’m not surprised,” he said when his fork touched the plate once more. “The best diners I’ve discovered have been off the beaten path traveling between Tallahassee and—”
Casey leaned forward in anticipation but he caught himself. He’d almost said between Tallahassee and wherever he lived now. She’d nearly gotten that tidbit of information without having to reveal her own secrets.
But he wasn’t so easily stumbled.
An awkward silence reigned for about two seconds. Thankfully, a woman entered with two kids hanging on to the skirt of her dress, both loudly vying for her attention.
Stark finished off his eggs and tortillas before downing the last of his coffee while Casey checked her cell to avoid eye contact or conversation. Her American carrier’s service was still too sketchy to make a call. Sending a text, which might actually go through, was too risky. Classified meant no transmissions other than face-to-face or voice to voice.
“You got the gas,” Stark said, “I’ll get this.”
That was one convenient aspect of having a partner. She stood, pushed in her chair and headed for the exit.
At the door, she paused and surveyed the parking lot. Only one new vehicle, likely belonging to the newest hungry patrons. She pushed the screen door open enough to have a look at the entrance to the gas station next door.
Her radar still on full throttle, she walked the short distance to the truck. Stark, as usual, was right behind her. He inspected the back of the truck and the tires while she checked the cab. The old vehicle’s door locks no longer worked so security was an issue.
Satisfied that no one had tampered with the truck, Casey slid into the passenger seat. She preferred to give directions at this point. She was lead in this mission. Oddly, it was she who needed to remember that. Reaching into her bag, she snagged the 9mm and nestled it against her thigh on the seat.
“You have a hotel in mind?” Stark asked as he got in behind the wheel and started the truck. “Or a certain section of town maybe?”
She hadn’t done her research on the city since there had been no cell service and she hadn’t known before interrogating Fernandez that Acapulco was her destination. “I don’t know the area so I have no input other than something close to the club where Alayna works.”
“You seem to have a good command of the language,” Stark suggested, “so we can always ask for directions.”
Casey had wondered about that. Seemed strange for a decent P.I. firm to send a man on assignment in a country where he didn’t have a reasonably good grasp of the language. The bigger firms typically employed a staff with a wider array of assets, including various languages. She considered the man behind the wheel. Evidently his was a small, boutique firm. She resisted the concept that low-rent might be a more apt decision. Stark had class. Most low-rent P.I.s did not. She’d heard horror stories from her colleagues who had been forced to utilize P.I.s as assets from time to time.
“Works for me.” This whole situation was bugging the heck out of her. She stared out the window as he pulled out onto
the sandy road. It wasn’t just this ridiculous physical attraction to Stark, it was working in the dark. Not having the relevant background info on him. Casey had worked a lot of missions. Each one came with its own surprises and risks. But she had never, ever worked so closely with a man about whom she knew so little. Even the dodgiest contacts came with a background profile.
This was probably a bad idea.
“Stark.” She turned to him. “We need to talk.”
The crack of a gunshot echoed a split second before metal dinged just over her head.
Casey grabbed her 9mm and ducked.
Stark swerved. “Looks like Fernandez did more than run.”
“Just drive,” Casey ordered.
Chapter Nine
Levi cut the wheel in a hard left. Casey swung toward him but managed to get off a shot at the Jeep in pursuit.
“Can’t you go any faster?” she shouted over the roar of the strained engine.
A bullet glanced off the side mirror, cracking it.
“This is all she’s got.” The truck bounced with a cut to the right.
The Jeep rammed the back of the truck.
They launched forward. Casey banked off the dash.
“You okay?” He glanced at her but couldn’t look long enough to evaluate her condition.
“For God’s sake don’t worry about me!” She scrambled back into position on her knees in the seat.
Miles of wide open terrain lay between them and their destination. At least another twenty or thirty minutes to Acapulco’s outlying villages.
They were in trouble here.
As if to verify his assessment, the rear windshield shattered and a bullet lodged in the dash between him and Casey.
He shook his head and tried to shove the accelerator through the floor.
Casey was struggling with the passenger door.
“What’re you doing?” he asked her.
The rush of air from the window she’d rolled down caused the truck to sway. She turned in the seat, facing him and stuck her right foot into his lap. “Listen carefully, partner.”
If he hadn’t been worried before, he damned sure was now. “What?” Another bullet thunked against the truck.
“Give it all she’s got. When they’re right on our bumper, swerve to the left and let off the gas immediately.”
What the hell did she have in mind?
“Oh yeah.” She took another shot at the Jeep via the missing rear window. “And hold on to my ankle.”
He sent her a doubtful look, his heart punching his sternum like a boxer in training.
“Go!” she shouted.
Pushing the truck for all it was worth, he wrapped his fingers around her ankle and held on tight. His attention split between the road and the rearview mirror.
“Here they come.” He stopped breathing.
When he could no longer see the Jeep’s front end in the rearview mirror he swerved left and let off the gas. The truck slowed as if he’d hit the brake. The Jeep rushed up next to them on Casey’s side.
“Don’t let go!” she yelled at him.
His fingers tightened on her ankle.
She thrust her upper body out the window, leveled her weapon and fired twice, three times.
The Jeep bumped the passenger side of the truck. The truck jostled wildly. Levi fought the steering wheel, barely keeping the truck on all four wheels.
When he dared glance in the rearview mirror again the Jeep was fishtailing out of control behind them. As he watched, it flipped onto its side and skidded to a stop.
Only then did he blow out the breath he’d been holding.
With the truck under control, he glanced at Casey. “You okay?”
She was on her knees again, watching behind them. Laughter burst from her throat. He checked the mirror to see what was so funny. The two hombres were attempting to upright the vehicle.
Casey collapsed in the seat. “Mercy, that was close.”
“Too close.” Levi swallowed back the panic that had swollen in his throat those last few seconds.
“You can turn me loose now.” She wiggled her foot.
He’d forgotten. Another breath hissed past his lips as he forced his fingers to release.
She faced forward and twisted open a bottle of water, downing half of it before she took a breath.
Levi shook his head. This was wrong. Way wrong. He turned to stare at her.
“Don’t slow down,” she ordered before he could speak. She made a breathy sound, kind of a chuckle. “Those guys are persistent. You have to give them that.”
He stared forward, tried to calm down. Not possible. He wasn’t going to pretend the past eighteen or twenty hours hadn’t been off-the-charts bizarre. He had questions and by God she was going to answer them.
Anger lit in his gut.
He’d tried to get right with the idea that none of it mattered as long as they accomplished their mission but he had been wrong. He couldn’t do this.
He gritted his teeth and let the fury simmer. He drove, fast, just like she said, until he reached the outskirts of the city. At the first row of businesses he encountered, he whipped into the parking area. The truck jostled and bounced.
Casey swore and grabbed her bag from where it had landed in the floorboard. “What the hell are you doing, Stark?”
He parked in front of the convenience store and shut off the engine. “The engine needs water.” He didn’t know if it did or not but that sounded like a reasonable explanation.
“We have water,” she called after him but he was already out the door. He shoved it shut and kept walking. A smart man would cool off a bit before confronting a woman. Usually he was reasonably smart.
Somehow that had changed amid long silky blond hair and big blue eyes. Not to mention shapely legs and skimpy panties. Then there was the way she’d savored her breakfast. He’d almost lost it watching her lick that spoon. How could a woman that gorgeous be so damned crazy? She had to be out of her mind!
Levi didn’t slow down until he was inside the convenience store. Halfway down the first aisle the crazy woman caught up with him, that big fringy bag resting on her hip. He ignored her and focused on trying to decipher the Spanish labels.
“What’s wrong with you?” She frowned up at him. “The truck is fine. We need to get swallowed up in that city instead of hanging out here where we’ll be spotted easier.”
She was right. He knew this. He picked up a bag of chips and attempted to determine if they were regular or barbecue. A cola would be nice, too. Didn’t matter that he wasn’t even hungry.
“Stark! What the hell are you doing?”
He looked up, as did the attendant at the counter and the five other patrons perusing the aisles.
“Look,” she said more quietly. “Let’s just calm down and talk about whatever’s bugging you.”
Calm down? Bugging him? Levi jammed the chips back on the shelf and grabbed her arm. He dragged her toward the far side of the store, right past the counter and behind the newspaper and magazine racks where no one was standing around staring at them. She didn’t resist, in all probability because they’d both already drawn too much attention.
When they were out of direct view of the other customers he turned on her. “Who are you?” They had just survived a scene right out of a high-octane action movie, 3-D stunts included. He was just a P.I. But she…she was no P.I. At least not one like he’d ever met.
Her face blanked. Gone was the frustration, the irritation. There was absolutely nothing to read. She tugged her arm free of his hold. “We’re wasting time. Do you want to do this or not?”
Another blast of outrage rammed into his gut. He moved his head side to side. Yes, this mission was of the utmost importance; and yes, they were wasting time. But he wasn’t moving from this spot until he knew the truth.
“Who are you?” he repeated.
Her gaze narrowed. “You’re scared.” A smile lifted the corners of that lush mouth. “That chase back t
here scared the hell out of you.”
A laugh rumbled up from the fury boiling in his gut. “That’s good, lady. But not good enough. Who are you?”
“Just admit it, Stark,” she insisted. “You were scared. That was new to you and you can’t take it.”
He fisted his fingers to prevent reaching out and shaking her. “Stop evading the question, Casey. Is that even your real name?”
She reached up, straightened his collar. “You know what your problem is, Stark?”
He shouldn’t have looked at her…not directly into her eyes like that. Maybe even then he could have maintained control if…
If she hadn’t stared with such longing at his mouth. If the world had stopped turning at just that second… If anything…something, had happened. He might not have lost complete control. But he did and so did she.
He kissed her or maybe she kissed him but it was game over either way. No more anger. No more frustration. There was just her soft, lush lips pressing against his. She tasted wild and sweet and just plain womanly. His arms went around her waist and he lifted her against him. Her fingers got lost in his hair.
He needed her closer…needed more. They collided blindly with a rack of magazines, sending the latest issues flapping to the floor like a flock of startled birds.
Lost in the taste and feel of her, from somewhere in the back of his mind he registered a tap on his shoulder that yanked him back to reality. Casey pushed out of his arms as he turned around. The lady from behind the counter started ranting at them in Spanish.
Levi blinked away the haze of utter insanity.
What the hell had he done?
Casey hurriedly grabbed up the magazines, apologizing in the local language as fluently as the lady glaring at them had spoken.
Levi helped pick up the rest of the magazines but didn’t manage a decent breath until the clerk had stalked back to the counter.
“Let’s go, Stark.” Casey placed the last magazine in its place and executed an about-face. She went for the exit.
