by J. C. Reed
“I didn’t solicit anyone. I’m a US citizen on vacation. Let me out,” I screamed and kicked in my seat, ready to draw as much attention to myself as possible. Onlookers had gathered around us, their cell phones suspiciously raised. The videos were probably being uploaded to YouTube that very instant.
My only chance.
I pressed my palms against the window and opened my mouth to explain my situation when the car sped off, siren blaring and all.
Crap.
Double crap.
Remember when I’d said earlier that I doubted any other man could be worse than Chase? Well, I wished I hadn’t said that. Turned out that wasn’t true at all.
Shit.
Why did I have to go for the little black number I was wearing?
Chapter 7
“You have one phone call,” a chubby guy in his late forties said in broken English.
I peeled my aching butt off the cold, concrete floor and marched purposefully for the bars, biting down a snarky remark.
The detention cell had been my residency for all of three hours and already it felt like I had spent most of last month in here. It wasn’t just the pungent smell of urine and bacteria that made me want to get the hell out as soon as possible. It was also the fact that not only did no one want to listen to my story of how I couldn’t possibly be a hooker; they actually weren’t particularly in a hurry to help me prove my innocence.
One phone call.
Make it count, Hanson.
I followed the chubby police officer to a desk and tried not to grimace as my fingers curled around the grubby headpiece of an old phone that had probably seen more unwashed hands than a public toilet door knob.
Who could I call?
I had gone over that decision for hours, mentally scrolling through my limited options, then discarding of each one as I trudged along. Eventually I knew there was only one person who’d run down doors to get me back on US soil.
One person who’d probably get every newspaper and television channel involved to make my story heard and get me the hell out of this hell hole.
Not least because this was all her fault.
She hooked me up with Chase Wright in the first place.
She thought it was a good idea to marry a stranger, albeit a hot one. And then, when I called her from the airport and asked where she’d disappear to if she wanted to hide, she came up with effing Acapulco Beach.
I dialed my friend Jude’s number, which I knew by heart and listened to the ringing sound until it went to voicemail.
Apparently she was too busy to answer, or so her voicemail said.
Trust Jude to miss one of the most important phone calls of my life.
“Hey, Jude. This is Laurie again,” I whispered, silently imploring her to pick up. “I know how this sounds, but it’s not a prank. I’m still in Mexico, in prison. You need to get me out as soon as possible. Call my lawyer and—”
The line went dead. Confused, I looked from the finger that had just interrupted my call to the smirking police officer.
“Your time’s up.”
“But I wasn’t done. I—” I swallowed hard and clamped my mouth shut in the knowledge that the guy was most certainly not up to date with my criminal status. I knew I had done nothing wrong, but he most certainly didn’t. And even if he did, I doubted that he cared.
“Fine,” I mumbled and followed him back to the detention cell, where I curled up on an uncomfortable chair and pulled my legs to my chest, thinking the chair was less dirty than the stained and sticky tile floor.
Chapter 8
The doors seemed to open and close at regular intervals. Women came and went, some cursing, some mumbling, others quiet as zombies. I had tried to talk to the guards several times, then eventually gave up as I realized I wouldn’t get more than a glare and a few words I didn’t understand.
“Hanson.”
Through the fog of tiredness engulfing my brain, it took me a while to grasp that the strange pronunciation was my name. I struggled to my feet and almost toppled forward, inwardly cursing the fact that I hadn’t moved from my perched position in what had seemed like hours. With no windows and no working cell phone, I had no idea how much time had passed, but I was thankful for the attention.
Someone was ready to talk to me.
Finally.
“Coming,” I croaked, my throat sore and dry.
A hand wrapped around my upper arm and I was guided into the same hall as before. But instead of turning toward the cluster of offices, we walked past those, through barred doors into—
The entrance area.
Holy shit.
My gaze swept around me in a frenzy.
Were they really letting me go, just like that?
“Here’s your stuff. You’re free to go.” A female police officer pushed my handbag into my hand and quickly retreated, her gawk nervous, frightened even.
Jude hadn’t come, but she had done it.
A miracle had happened.
Or she had really pulled all the strings.
I couldn’t wait to get to the hotel, pack up and leave, because I couldn’t get home fast enough to the safety of my boring, jobless and penniless life, and forget all about the little, embarrassing incident I knew I wouldn’t tell anyone about.
A smug smile spread across my face. In spite of the stiffness in my bones, I almost danced out the sliding doors into the hot Mexican—
Midday?
I had been in there all night and morning?
I blinked against the glaring brightness as the sun blinded me and bumped into what felt like a statue.
“Whoa, steady there, birdie.”
The voice—so deep, so manly—grated on my nerves and made my blood freeze in my veins.
It couldn’t be because it was impossible. And yet—
I lifted a hand to shield my eyes from the relentless sun and looked all the way up into gray blue eyes that seemed to shine just as brightly as the sun.
Chase.
Mr. Fucking Liar.
Earth swallow me up whole!
I was so shocked I took a few steps back, then turned.
“What are you doing?” his voice, deep and dark, bellowed behind me.
“I’m going back.”
“Fuck, Laurie. No, you won’t.” His hand clutched my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks.
My hands balled to fists, and for a moment my anger rendered me speechless, though I wasn’t sure whether to be angry with myself for calling Jude, with Jude for possibly calling Chase, or with Chase for not realizing that he was the last person on Earth I wanted to see.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I finally managed through cringed teeth.
“No need to thank me for bailing your ass out of prison.” The corners of his mouth curled into an arrogant smirk. I didn’t know whether to kiss him or slap that arrogance right out of him.
“Damn right, I won’t thank you. In fact, I’d rather go back than see you.” I turned my back to him, ready to ascend the stairs and disappear back inside. Countless excuses were already running through my head as how to best to persuade the police officer to let me back in.
Maybe:
“Remember the guy who bailed me out? I have absolutely no idea who that is.”
Or:
“I’m too beat to go back to the hotel. Do you mind if I wait inside so I can think hard about all the things I did do wrong because, in all honesty, I still don’t know?”
Actually, maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. My cell buddy, who I knew for sure was addicted to crack, had managed to smuggle drugs in, and asked me if I wanted to help share them around. She had been quite pushy about it, as if the dirty little packets were no more than herbal tea.
If I were to choose between dealing with her and Chase, which one should I take?
Obviously not Mr. Hot Pants.
I dashed up the stairs and had almost reached the door, when Chase’s hand pressed down on my shoulder again. “W
hoa, Laurie. You think that’s a good idea? They really want to charge you.”
I stopped and exhaled a slow breath. “With what?”
“Exposing yourself in a public place, working as a prostitute, trying to solicit a client.”
I rolled my eyes. “Obviously, all not true.”
“I believe you, but tell that to them.” Chase let out a laugh.
Was that the slightest hint of glee I detected?
Oh, my god.
He was laughing at me.
I turned to face him, my face a mask of fury and burning anger. “Who the fuck do you think you are turning up here like this, anyway?”
He didn’t even flinch at my icy tone. “I’m your husband, obviously. And as such, it’s my duty to make sure you don’t spend the next five years in prison for ‘soliciting clients’, which I know you’re not guilty of, otherwise I would have reconsidered my decision.” He leaned forward. At first, I thought he was about to kiss me, but instead he whispered in my ear, “What did you do? Smash someone’s car to get a cop pissed at you?”
I scowled at him. “I did nothing.”
He stood back, eyeing me in puzzlement. “Are you sure about that? You can be quite hot-headed?”
“I’m so not—” I stopped at his smug expression and shook my head. Maybe I was a bit hot-headed. So what? “You don’t believe me?” I said instead.
He let out another chortle. “At this point I would believe anything, just not that you were soliciting.” He tugged at a stray strand of my hair.
I flinched. “Don’t touch me.”
“You had something stuck in there,” Chase said coolly and held up something pink, then dropped it to our feet. “I believe it was chewing gum. I don’t need to impose myself on a woman.”
Of course not.
Because no woman in her right mind would decline someone as hot as Chase.
And I was the lucky one to marry him.
Too bad he was a lying bastard.
“Oh.” I glared at him. My gaze met his stunning blue gray eyes and my breathing stopped for a few seconds.
Wow.
In the sunlight, his magnetic eyes were even more gorgeous than I remembered.
The last few hours I had tried to make myself believe that it was impossible for someone to be so beautiful. That it was all in my mind because I was so damn attracted to him. That time would open my eyes and help me see him for what he really looked like.
But now?
In real life, he was the most beautiful man I had ever met.
He was also the most wicked—able to transfix people with a mere glance. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that he had hit on someone to get me out.
“It’s great to see you again, Laurie,” Chase said nonchalantly, oblivious to my glare.
“How did you convince them to release me?” I asked. “It couldn’t have been easy.”
He cocked his head, the corner of his lips curling upwards. “I have my resources. And as it happens, I’m also a good actor.”
I snorted. “Yeah, more like an amateur. You’re not a professional.”
“So, Jude told you.” He nodded, like Jude’s revelation was no big deal.
I smiled coldly. “She told me everything.”
“That’s impossible. She doesn’t know anything about me.”
“Like what?” I crossed my arms over my chest and peered into his eyes, challenging him.
“Like that I’m happy to see you again.” His gaze brushed the front of my dirty black dress. “How’s your vacation been so far?”
I scowled.
He was making fun of me because he knew it’d get to me.
“Why are you here?” I asked, ignoring his attempt at rattling at my self-control.
His brows shot up. “To save you, obviously.”
“I didn’t need saving.”
“It didn’t look that way to me,” Chase said gently.
I stared at him as I tried to read his caged expression. His words carried a deeper layer to them. I turned around to watch the people walking past, some casting us interested glances.
“All right, you win.” I turned back to him and heaved an exasperated sigh. “I’m going back to the hotel, but if you think I’ll say thank you, you’re wrong. I have no intention of returning home, and particularly not with you. Thank you is about the last thing you’ll ever hear from me. I’m going home.”
I tried to wriggle my way past him to call a taxi, but he blocked my way—all hard body and stony expression.
“You can’t go home just yet.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why not? Because you don’t want me to?”
“Look—” He took a sharp breath and exhaled it slowly, as he prepared his words. “You’ll have to stay for one week in case they want to investigate.”
Stay in Acapulco for a week?
After last night’s incident, I’d fly home and forget all about it or lock myself in my room out of fear of making another mistake.
“I’m also forced to stay,” Chase added quickly. “So, it seems we’re both stuck here.”
“Poor you.”
“I’d say lucky me. I always wanted to see Mexico, and now it looks like we’ll have a honeymoon, just like every other married couple.”
I scowled at his words.
Married couple.
“Married couple, my ass,” I mumbled. “I didn’t need saving, Chase. You shouldn’t have come.”
“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for us,” Chase said slowly, and I rolled my eyes. “I’m your husband. Even if we’re only married on paper and you hate me, it doesn’t change that little fact.”
I gave a snort. “I don’t hate you. I don’t care for you. That’s all.”
“I doubt it.” He smiled. “When you were in my bed, you liked me…a lot.”
I snorted. “That was back then. Things have changed in case you haven’t noticed. I’m different now.”
“No, you’re not, Laurie.”
I glared at him, hating the fact that he was right. “You wasted your time coming here. Maybe I did all that and more.”
“What?”
“All the things I was accused of,” I said.
A dangerous glint appeared in his eyes. “You fucked someone?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe I was on a way to a hot date.”
“You wouldn’t have done that.” His mouth tightened. “We have an agreement.”
“An agreement which isn’t worth shit because you lied about your name.” I smiled triumphantly. “For all I know we might not even be married. I mean if Chase isn’t your name, then I can annul the contract, right?”
“I dare you to do that and see how far that gets you,” he said coldly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That you’re wrong.”
I raised my chin defiantly. I was wrong pretty often, but I didn’t need to hear if from someone as arrogant as Chase. “Wrong about what? That you’re a liar and an asshole? I think I have you figured out.”
“Wrong about my name,” he muttered.
“I’m not wrong. I saw that folder.”
“A folder that you shouldn’t have read,” he remarked angrily.
“A folder that showed you’re liar, Chase,” I retorted. “I’m so sorry I’ve ruined all the bad surprises you had in store for me and discovered the motive why you married me.”
“Laurie.” He placed his hands on my shoulders. I expected his grip to be hard. Instead, it was soft. “You think you know what you’re talking about, but trust me, you don’t.”
I smiled bitterly. “I know enough. All I need to know is that you’re a liar.” I yanked my shoulders out of his grip. “You might own an entire folder containing stuff that doesn’t concern you, but you don’t know shit about me, Chase,” I said, unable to control the shrill tone of my voice.
Passers-by regarded us, curious, but no one commented. No one stopped to ask an obviously upset female wh
ether everything was okay. I had learned that same lesson last night.
“It doesn’t take a folder full of information to know you,” Chase said coldly. “You forget I was inside you. Something happened between us. We connected. I felt it and you felt it.”
My pulse sped up, but not from the anger that seemed to course through me half of the time I spent in his presence.
In his snug white shirt that accentuated his tan arms and casual jeans, he looked relaxed and comfortable, like this wasn’t a situation out of the ordinary and he used to bail people out all the time. He also looked as if he was used to people getting angry with him or maybe he had expected my reaction all along.
The expression in his gray blue eyes seemed lost, though, as if he had no idea what was going on between us.
He looked so innocent, I wanted to scream. This was the man I had married and slept with. The man I had trusted. The man who betrayed me. The man who still tried to manipulate me with sweet words of nothingness.
I could almost still feel him inside my head—inside my body, filling me, taking his pleasure while bringing my own lust to new heights.
The memory of him naked with my legs wrapped around his waist brought the usual tell-late heat to my face. It also brought back the pain of his betrayal, and my promise that I’d never see him again.
“Why are you really here, Chase?” I whispered.
He regarded me for a long moment. “In spite of what you keep thinking, there’s no hidden motive.”
Only, I knew that wasn’t true.
“So you say.” I studied his face for a few moments in the knowledge that no matter how many times I asked, he wouldn’t tell me. “You know what? Forget it,” I said eventually.
Walking past him, I took a left turn and headed into a back alley, Chase following close behind me.
“Do you even know where you are?” he asked.
I looked around. “Does it matter? I’m going to call a taxi as soon as I see one. So you can stop following me.”
“We’re not in L.A., Laurie. This can be a dangerous place, as you should know by now. Come on. Let me take you back to the hotel.” His fingers curled around my upper arm and pulled me gently to him.
“Don’t touch me.” I yanked my hand out of his grip.
