Red Shoes & A Diary

by Mia Zachary

  She grabbed his arm and gave him an enchanting smile. “Every night? Really?”

  Alex broke into a wide grin when he saw her childlike joy. “Welcome to the only city that makes a party out of the sunset. It’s a tradition with the tourists as well as the locals.”

  The sun lit the sky with flaming red, bright orange and hot yellow. As it dropped beneath the horizon, the crowd roared in response. Caught up in the moment, Meghan screamed and cheered right along with them. When the last rays slid into the sea, she wrapped her arm about his waist.

  “That was wonderful, Nick! What a great tradition. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

  He turned until she was in his embrace, quietly gazing into her eyes. The twilight both accentuated and hid the features of her face. Her dark hair was a mass of loose curls and she’d done that thing to her eyes again, making them look smoky and mysterious.

  “I have to tell you something, Trouble. I didn’t come to Cayo Sueño looking to meet anyone. In fact, it’s the last thing I wanted.”

  She seemed to hold her breath, her whole body tense. He hesitated, wondering if it was too soon to declare his true feelings. Yeah, it was too soon. He needed to know for sure how she felt.

  “Neither did I. My plan was just to have a sexual fling. I never expected…this.”

  Alex felt his heart stop, then stutter back to normal. Let her say it. Please let her say it. If she said it first, he could finally tell her the truth. “And what is ‘this’?”

  Meghan ducked her head, the hint of a smile on her lips. In the dim light, he thought he saw a blush steal over her cheeks. “I— I’m not sure yet. But I like it. I like you.”

  Okay. This is good. This is real good. But he couldn’t voice the other words. Not yet. “I like you, too.”

  She crossed her arms, pretending to scowl. One eyebrow arched indignantly as she tilted her head to the side. “That’s it?”

  He flashed her a grin. “Okay. I like you a lot.”

  “Nick!” Her voice rose in amused protest.

  “Hey, it’s more than you said.”

  “But I said it first. You have to do better.”

  He cocked his head, pretending to consider his answer. “Do you want to go steady?”

  Meghan laughed and slid her arms up to his neck. “You make me crazy—”

  Alex cupped her face in his palms and brushed his mouth over hers. He stared down at her, moved by a warm sense of rightness and belonging.

  “I’m crazy about you, too.”

  “Where do we go from here?”

  There was no way for him to know, not when he was supposed to be working the Ramos case instead of spending time with her. She was offering him all that he wanted, everything he needed. And damned if he could accept it with a clear conscience. Because none of it was real. She’d fallen for a man who was—and yet wasn’t—him.

  Where do we go from here? She meant their relationship, but he gave her the easy answer. “Let’s eat.”

  Alex guided her to a two-story nineteenth-century Spanish colonial. A garden filled with bromeliads, sapodilla and palms surrounded the small hotel. Inside, a hostess showed them to a quiet table near the windows of the intimate restaurant.

  Meghan looked around the elegant art deco dining room, approval obvious in her gaze. “I feel like we’re at some chic little café on the Seine.”

  “The house was built in 1887, but the Hotel St. Pierre wasn’t established until 1921. There’re only twenty-seven rooms, no two exactly alike. This bistro serves contemporary cuisine, with a French influence.”

  “You must come here a lot.”

  “Nope. I read the brochure.”

  She laughed and picked up the menu. He admired her from across the table and discovered he had a voracious appetite. Only not for the food. The deep, lush red color on her lips ought to be illegal. Just looking at her mouth was getting him hard. After a moment, she looked up to catch him staring.

  “What is it?”

  “We could skip right to dessert.” He leaned forward, his voice low and deep. “I have this urge to decorate your body with chocolate sauce and whipped cream, then lick it off.”

  A gleam of interest lit her eyes, but she rapped her menu against the table’s edge. “Are you trying to starve me to death? We have yet to finish a whole meal together.”

  He shrugged good-naturedly. “A guy can dream.”

  “Well, dream on, Nick. I’m hungry.”

  “Me, too. Let me tell you about the banana and the nuts—”

  “I know all about your banana, thank you.” She winked at him in return.

  A waiter brought over the appetizers and set them on the table. He opened a bottle of wine, poured and offered the sample to Alex. Meghan looked on, amused. They both knew he would have preferred a beer.

  When she sipped her lobster bisque and moaned, the sound shot straight from his ears to his groin. Shifting a little in his seat, he watched her lick several drops of soup from her lower lip. He gulped his wine to clear the knot in his throat.

  “This is wonderful. Try it.” She held her spoon across the table to him.

  Leaning forward, he slowly opened his mouth. He tasted the creamy soup laced with Spanish sherry, gazing at her intently while he did so. Her golden-brown eyes darkened with desire. “I never knew soup could be sexy. Do it again.”

  Chuckling, Alex speared a lump of crabmeat from his own plate, dipped it into the cilantro butter and offered it to her. “I’ll eat yours if you eat mine.”

  She stuck out her tongue to take the delicate morsel from the fork into her mouth. “Not bad, I guess. For real crab cakes, you have to be in Maryland.”

  “Are you going to miss living there, now that you’re going to school in Miami?”

  “Not really. I’ve always hated the winters. If a single snowflake falls to the ground, everyone goes bananas.”

  “Speaking of bananas—”

  “We were speaking of snowflakes.”

  Alex wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I forgot to tell you what I want to do with the caramel sauce and cherries.”

  “Tell me when I come back.” She grinned before excusing herself to go to the ladies’ room.

  He stood when she left the table, noticing the looks of admiration Meghan got as she walked away.

  There had to be a way for them to work things out. She’d be busy with school soon, anyway, so maybe his frequent absences wouldn’t be a problem. Alex drummed his fingers on the table and idly glanced about the dining room.

  A woman standing near the entrance caught his attention. When he recognized her, the wine turned to acid in his stomach. Adrenaline pumped though his system in a wave of ice, followed by a surge of heat. If Vivian was in town, Frankie Ramos couldn’t be far behind.

  Show time.

  12

  Light falls on the mirror and the face there changes. I look at myself and Elise stares back at me. As the evening shadows touch my reflection, I wonder if anyone is really who they seem….

  MEGHAN STEPPED OUT of the ladies’ room and into her worst nightmare. She forced a slow, angry breath between her cold lips. Some woman had wrapped her arms around Nick and was kissing him like a sailor come home from the sea.

  Her eyes narrowed as she studied her competition. The woman seemed to believe “less is more” in terms of clothing and “more is better” in terms of makeup. She had the body of a Vegas showgirl under a gold sequined dress that clung to her generous bosom like plastic wrap.

  Jealousy ate at her and, for a millisecond, she gave in to the idea of getting breast implants. Then reason returned. Nick liked her just the way she was.

  In the past, she’d lost confidence in herself instead of realizing any man worth having would look for more in a woman than a pair of big breasts. That wasn’t going to happen again. Meghan took a deep breath through flared nostrils and squared her shoulders.

  No bimbo was going to compromise their budding relationship, not when they’d reache
d The Like Stage. She raised her chin and stalked over to the hostess desk, prepared for battle. “I think introductions are in order. Don’t you?”

  She noticed Nick’s pupils dilate as he shifted uneasily away from the showgirl Velcroed to his side. “This is Vivian. She’s…um… She’s…”

  She’s a tramp with a capital T, finished Meghan. The woman was trailing her silver-tipped nails along Nick’s arm and giving Meghan a canary feather-filled smile. It was really going to hurt when she started yanking every platinum hair off the bimbo’s head.

  “Oh, Alex and I go way back. Don’t we?”

  Alex? She called him Alex.

  Meghan frowned in confusion. Was that some kind of pet name? His brows drew together and he gave Vivian a slight shake of his head. Obviously this woman knew him on a personal level if she had a nickname for him. The thought didn’t make Meghan happy at all.

  She stepped back to put some distance between them but Nick caught her arm. When she resisted, he slipped his hand around her waist, holding her close. “It’s not what you think. Viv is a business acquaintance.”

  “You make it sound so impersonal.” Vivian pouted before continuing in her annoying little-girl voice. “So, where have you been hiding? I haven’t seen you since Lena’s party.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve been—” He glanced down at Meghan.

  Vivian interrupted, pursing her lip in an expression she’d obviously practiced many times. “Have you seen Rogelio?”

  “No. I was looking for Braga earlier.”

  “He’s supposed to be having dinner with us.”

  Nothing about Nick’s appearance changed, but she sensed his agitation. Like a switch had been triggered, turning his energy level up a notch. “Who is ‘us’?”

  “Frankie should be here any minute now.” As Vivian’s voice lost its breathiness, Meghan suddenly recognized a spark of intelligence behind her blue eyes. “He didn’t seem at all surprised that Rogelio hasn’t been around today.”

  “Really?” Nick was deceptively nonchalant. “Braga was going to set up a meeting for me.”

  Vivian nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”

  There was definitely something between them, but Meghan was no longer sure it was sexual.

  “Thanks, Viv. I appreciate that.”

  “Try showing it sometime. You know where I live.”

  Okay. Maybe it was sexual after all. Meghan glared at both of them and leaned into Nick, guarding her territory.

  He squeezed her hip in reassurance, refusing the bait Vivian dangled. “We’ve got to go. Our food is getting cold.”

  “Me, too. My table is ready. Good seeing you, Alex. Give me a call when you get back to Miami.” She blew a little kiss toward his mouth before she walked away.

  Meghan stepped aside and planted a hand on her hip. “All right. I want to know—”

  “Not now.”

  Nick abruptly caught her by the elbow and she gasped. He didn’t hurt her, but his grip was firm as he steered her into the dining room. She tolerated it until they got back to the table, then shook off his hand. She took her seat, clenching both fists in her lap.

  I won’t cause a scene. I may seriously hurt him, but I won’t make a scene.

  Meghan gulped half of her wine in one swallow, not caring if she got drunk again. She glanced up to see Vivian watching her from across the restaurant, a sly grin on her heavily made-up face. With a determined set to her shoulders, she set the glass back on the table. No way would she let that tramp see her lose control. Whatever was going on, she’d deal with it head-on.

  “Start talking, Alex. And I suggest you talk fast.”

  He faced her silently, reluctance casting a shadow over his face. Displeasure turned his eyes from light green to jade. Looking at the mask his features had taken on frightened her. It also made her mad.

  “Just who is that woman to you?”

  “An exotic dancer and paid escort.”

  She snorted in disgust. “So Vivian is the type of beer-drinking, uncomplicated blonde you prefer?”

  “Viv introduced me to Rogelio Braga last year. He’s my connection to the Ramos cartel.”

  What was going on? A chill shuddered along her spine, then spread over her whole body. “Who the hell are you?”

  His eyes widened in surprise.

  Unbelievable. He knew her well enough to notice one out-of-character swearword. Meanwhile, she’d had no clue he was some low-life drug dealer. “Answer my question.”

  Nick leaned forward so she could hear him over the din of conversation without raising his voice. “You’ve got to promise not to repeat anything I tell you.”

  Meghan tilted her head to the side and arched one brow. “We have an agreement. No promises, remember?”

  “This is serious—”

  “Then stop stalling. Who are you?”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose, briefly closing his eyes. “I shouldn’t trust you, but you’re right. I do owe you some kind of answers.”

  He might as well have stabbed her with his steak knife. He shouldn’t trust her? The irony of this bordered on the absurd. She gazed at the mouth that had kissed her, the arms that had held her, the body that had loved her.

  “You certainly trusted me in bed.”

  “It’s nothing personal.”

  Some sound of distress must have escaped because he jerked his head up. “No, wait, I didn’t mean it like that. Making love with you was personal. It’s the other part—”

  She raised one palm to stop his words. “I’m waiting for an explanation, Nick. Or is it Alex? What am I supposed to call you?”

  “My name is Alex Worth. Nicholas Alexander Worth.”

  “Why did you tell me your name was Nick Alexander?”

  He slowly exhaled, seeming to have trouble meeting her eye. He was probably trying to come up with a good story.

  “I’m an agent with the Department of Justice….”

  She decided she was having a stroke. Her heart seized and her whole body went numb, and the blood pounding in her ears drowned out the rest of his words.

  Nick was a cop. Just like Kyle.

  “I work for the DEA out of the Miami field office. Rogelio Braga isn’t really my client—he’s a money launderer. I’ve been after his boss in the cartel for two years.”

  She saw his mouth moving, but didn’t hear anything else he said. Well, at least he wasn’t a low-life drug dealer. Just a danger junkie with a badge. Interlacing her fingers on the table to keep them from trembling, she continued to stare.

  “You’re a secret agent who’s been lying to me since the day we met. You were going to keep lying to me until—until when exactly?” Meghan waved one hand vaguely in the air.

  He averted his gaze and rubbed the scar on his temple. His mouth was tight, his expression grim. When he looked up, her own turbulent emotions were reflected in the kaleidoscope of his eyes.

  “You were never going to tell me.”

  “I’ve been in the Justice Department long enough to know better than to jeopardize an ongoing investigation.” He leaned forward and caught her wrist. “I’m doing it anyway.”

  Trying to pull her arm away, she looked at him in confusion. “I’m under investigation?”

  “No. I was suspicious of you at first—”

  “Of me? Why?”

  “I had reason to think you were involved with Braga, especially when I saw you two together.” That explained his strange behavior in the lounge the first night and on the pier the next day. He loosened his grip and she succeeded in twisting out of his grasp.

  A truly ugly thought occurred to her. Bitterness churned in her stomach and she fought hard to control it. “At what point, exactly, did you decide that I was above suspicion?”

  His eyes were bleak and his voice sounded resigned. The corners of his mouth turned down. “I cleared you when I got the results of a background check.”

  “You told someone to poke around in my life? You had somebody dig into
my past?”

  Nick reached for her hand again, but she snatched it away. “I had to. I had to know who you were.”

  And all the while, he knew who he wasn’t. How ironic that they’d both been pretending to be someone else. Her throat was tight, choked with unshed tears. He still hadn’t answered the question burning a hole in her gut. She crossed her arms, gripping her elbows hard enough to leave bruises.

  “Did you take me to bed before, or after, you found out?”

  He dropped his head, eyes closed briefly, and cursed softly under his breath. Then he looked at her, his voice filled with conviction. “After. I swear it was after.”

  “Do you have any idea how this makes me feel?” She spoke in a broken whisper, not fully believing him.

  “When I thought you were working for Braga, I couldn’t tell you about my assignment. Then, when I knew you weren’t involved, I kept quiet to protect you.”

  She toyed with her wineglass, twirling the stem between her fingers. Her anger gradually abated, leaving a strangely hollow feeling of disappointment. Despite her intentions, she’d fallen deeply in love with Nick…Alex…only to discover he was the last type of man she wanted to get involved with. A layer of ice stole over her heart, the heart she’d so recently and freely given to a man she didn’t know.

  “I never meant to hurt you, Meghan. And I’m sorry about this, about getting you mixed up in my case.”

  She sighed, twirling her glass in the other direction. “Why tell me now, all of a sudden? You could have pretended Vivian was an old girlfriend.”

  “I don’t have a choice. A few months ago, the DEA raided one of Francisco Ramos’s warehouses. We got word that a large drug shipment was coming in.”

  “And?”

  “One of the informants turned out to be double-crossing us. As a result, my partner’s cover was blown and I got this.” He pointed to his scar.

  She frowned as something clicked in her memory. “That was in Overtown, wasn’t it? The story of the arrests was all over the news. If I remember correctly, two people were killed in the shooting.”

  His gaze suddenly focused over her shoulder. She was perversely fascinated to watch the change come over him. His lips flattened into a cynical smile as he set his jaw, the warmth faded from his eyes and his features hardened. Suddenly his face looked…different.