by Cindy Dees
“You’re more than just some simple arms dealer.”
“Why do you think that?”
He was back to being Mr. All-Questions-and-No-Answers again. “You went out of your way to help some crazy nun who wandered across your path. You didn’t have to come to Acuna to rescue me and the kids, but you did. You obviously like the children and are going out of your way to be kind to them. By coming after us, you lost contact with a potentially lucrative client. What arms dealer in their right mind would do that?”
“One with a soft spot for crazy nuns and helpless kids?”
“Nice try, but no cigar,” she retorted. “What gives?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“My secrets are bigger than yours.”
She snorted. “That’s a load of hooey. What’s more important than the lives of two innocent children?”
He answered without hesitation. “The lives of hundreds of innocent children.”
“Huh?”
“Like I said. Don’t ask.”
“I’m asking.” He started to turn away, to shut her out. She added desperately, “If what we have between us means anything at all to you, you’ll tell me. You owe me that much.”
He turned back to her and passed a frustrated hand over his face. “That’s not fair.”
“If I were a nun, I might fight fair. But I’m a woman. And since when do we ever fight fair?”
“Good point.”
“Come on, Drago. Tell me.”
“No.”
And with that single word, uttered with quiet finality, he’d shut her out of his life.
Worse, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that there wasn’t a darned thing she could do to change his mind or force him to spill his guts. His job—his secrets—were more important to him than she would ever be. And that pretty much said it all.
No matter how great her fantasies were of the two of them together after this trip, with her emphatically not posing as a nun, they were just that. Fantasies. They would never become a reality. He might kiss her as though he needed her more than life, but it was all just empty promises.
Devastated, she followed him back to the Jeep. She avoided Grandma’s all-too-observant gaze and climbed into the passenger seat in silence. For once, she was glad to have the drab clothes and wimple to hide behind. It wasn’t Drago’s questions she feared anymore, though; it was Grandma’s. Folding her hands as if in prayer, Elise bowed her head and closed her eyes. It was a close thing to fight off the tears burning the back of her eyelids, but she eventually managed to squeeze them away hard enough for her to open her eyes and actually see the road.
She glanced up and Grandma caught her gaze in the rearview mirror, the dark, wise eyes worried. “Are you all right, Sister Elise?”
“I am now. Prayer always calms me.”
A shadow of doubt passed over the old woman’s wrinkled face.
Elise said brightly, “In the few minutes we have left before we get to Mercado, we should probably strategize how to approach Raoul again and explain our absence.”
“Who’s he?” the older woman asked.
Drago answered, “The leader of the Army of Freedom.”
Grandma frowned. “What are you talking about? Eduardo Lentano is the leader of the Army of Freedom.”
Drago’s head whipped around. His voice was deadly quiet. “Excuse me?”
Chapter 10
Elise gulped. Was the Army of Freedom playing him for a fool? Just how much danger were they all in? “Uh, maybe you should reconsider the whole idea of getting us picked up by the rebels.”
He shook his head. “No. We continue on. I have to finish this deal.”
“No, you don’t. You can walk away from this.” When he merely scowled stubbornly, she added desperately, “Have you not looked around you? You have a car full of women and children.”
He shrugged. “You can leave me when we get to Mercado, or you can take your chances with me. But I have no choice. Particularly now that I know they’re messing with me. I must continue my mission.”
His mission? What was he? Some kind of soldier? Or a spy, maybe?
Grandma surprised her by speaking up from the backseat. “I stay with the children. And they should stay with you, Drago. You know how to handle yourself. You’ll protect them with your life.”
An array of emotions passed across his face. Surprise. Dismay. Resignation. And then a reluctant smile of reassurance toward the elderly woman in the backseat. Did she dare interpret that to mean he’d accepted the fact that he was stuck with all of them until they left Colombia?
She didn’t know whether to be relieved or appalled. Assuming he didn’t draw the entire Army of Freedom down upon them, he might actually increase the children’s safety. But he’d made it clear that his goals came before any women and children. Did she dare trust him? Did she have the right to risk the children’s lives on his tenuous connection to them? Particularly after he’d made it crystal clear to her that the mission came first?
Hurt tore through her, paralyzing her brain. She had to think. Make the right decision. The children’s safety, not to mention her own safety, depended on her making the right choice. But what was that?
“What more can you tell me about the Army of Freedom?” he asked Grandma quietly.
“They struggle to survive. The government’s reforms are working. The cruelty and corruption of the regime have mostly disappeared. That is what drove people into rebel groups. With el Presidente giving back the farmland the drug cartels stole, the Army of Freedom can’t even find supporters among the poorest people in the countryside.”
“Are you telling me the Army of Freedom is dying?” he asked carefully.
“They used to have nearly ten thousand members. Now they’re down to maybe five hundred.”
“So few?” Drago blurted.
“Aye.”
“So. They’d rather go out in a blaze of glory than fade quietly into the night,” he mumbled.
“Excuse me?” Elise asked. She didn’t like the sound of that. In her experience, blazes of glory had a tendency to consume anyone standing near them when they ignited.
“Nothing,” he snapped, obviously distracted.
“Are you sure you want to go through with this arms deal?” she asked. “What if they can’t pay you? Or what if they’re planning to do something stupid with your weapons? Won’t the authorities come after you, too?”
“This isn’t about talking me out of doing business with these guys.”
“What is it about, then?” she asked.
He glanced at her, his expression closed, and did not answer. Yup, he had shut her out completely.
“I don’t want to approach them tonight,” Drago announced suddenly. “We’ll find a place to stay and I’ll approach them—by myself—tomorrow.”
Elise snorted. Which was a fancy way of saying he was going to ditch them tomorrow. How could he promise in one breath to keep them safe, and in the next intimate that he’d like nothing better than to get rid of them? His mood swings were giving her whiplash.
He pulled into a motel that was part of a major chain and got them three rooms connected by interior doors. At his suggestion, Grandma and the kids took the middle room, and he and Elise took the rooms on either side. He said it was for safety, but she suspected it had more to do with avoiding her and her inconvenient questions.
The children jumped on the beds and took baths and gleefully settled in to watch a children’s movie on pay-per-view. Elise left Grandma dozing in the other double bed and tiptoed back to her room after the children nodded off, their faces untroubled and angelic in sleep.
Elise tossed and turned in her own bed for perhaps an hour when a quiet knock on her door brought her flying out of bed in alarm. She moved over to the door and spied Drago’s distorted form through the peephole.
She opened the door a crack and whispered, “What do you want?”
“I want to tal
k.”
Huh? She threw the door open and stepped back, confused. Her room had one large bed in it, and she sat down gingerly on its edge. Drago seated himself beside her, their knees disturbingly close. Sheesh. Since when had knees become an irresistibly erogenous zone?
He asked without preamble, “Do you believe in God?”
She stared at him. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Do you ever think about hell?”
What on earth prompted that line of reasoning? Had her continuous criticisms of his profession finally gotten through to him? Maybe she didn’t make such a bad nun after all. And maybe that was why she felt compelled to answer him with brutal honesty. “I don’t think about hell now as much as I used to. There was a time when I thought about it a lot.”
She stopped, but the almost desperate look he sent her spurred her to take a deep breath and plunge on. “I was in a pretty bad place emotionally right after my parents died. I considered coming down here to kill Garza, and I briefly considered killing myself. Either way, I figured I was going to end up in hell. Why do you ask?”
“Seeing Mia and Emanuel and what they’ve been through, I guess it messed with my head a little.”
Surprise coursed through her. He’d given no indication earlier that the children made him uncomfortable. Quite the opposite, in fact. Given how macho a guy he usually was, the admission that two little kids had gotten under his skin had to have cost him a lot.
“Messed with your head how?” she asked cautiously.
“In my line of work, I do the job and move on. I don’t stick around to see the consequences of what I do. I’ve never really thought much about making orphans and widows.” He shrugged. “I always put it down to collateral damage of what had to be done.”
She nodded slowly. “I know the feeling.”
His gaze jerked up to hers.
“After Valdiron Garza murdered my parents, I moved heaven and earth to see him brought to justice. I worked for years to expose his dirty activities and force the Colombian government to do something about him. I never dreamed they’d shoot him down in cold blood, though. In my own way, I’m as responsible for making orphans out of Mia and Emanuel as you are.”
He nodded slowly. “Is that why you’re here to rescue them?”
“I didn’t know it when I agreed to come down here to get them, but yes, it’s why I’m here.”
Silence fell between them.
Eventually, she asked quietly, “Why do you do what you do? Is it for the money?”
He snorted. “Hell, no. Nobody gets rich doing what I do unless they go—”
They go what? As far as she knew, arms dealers were usually rolling in cash. Given that he struck her as being very good at what he did, she had to assume, then, that if he wasn’t rich, it wasn’t because he sucked at being an arms dealer. It had to be something else. Was he, in fact, a soldier of some kind? A spy, maybe?
Right. Like he’d ever tell her something like that. Rather than confronting him with it again and getting yet another denial from him, she chose a different tack. “What would you die for, Drago?”
He looked up at her sharply. “Excuse me?”
“What’s worth dying for to you?”
He opened his mouth as if an answer came readily to him, but no words came out. Finally, he said lamely, “Family and friends, I suppose.”
That wasn’t what he’d been about to say. She’d lay odds that something like God and country was what leaped to his tongue first. “Look. I know you don’t want to tell me who you really are. Maybe you can’t tell me. I get that. But I have a pretty good idea who you might be. Which makes me wonder why you’re out here all by yourself messing around with people like the Army of Freedom. Shouldn’t you have some sort of backup? Someone waiting nearby to pull you out if things go to hell?”
His answer was slow in coming. Reluctant. “I’m on my own. No backup.”
“What kind of idiot sends someone like you into this sort of danger alone?” she demanded indignantly.
He snorted. “Like you’re one to talk. I don’t see the Catholic cavalry standing in the wings waiting to swoop in and rescue you when you get in over your head.”
She sighed. “Yes, but I volunteered for this. You could say I even brought it on myself. Penance, as it were.”
He burst out, “That’s insane.” The vehemence in his voice startled her. It almost sounded as though he cared about her.
“Probably.”
“Go home, Elise.”
She laughed without much humor. “Believe me, I’m trying. Now that I’ve got the kids, I’m heading for the nearest international airport as fast as I can and getting the heck out of here.”
“I’m glad.”
Except he didn’t sound glad at all. He sounded almost…bereft. “Are you going to miss me?” she breathed. She almost clapped a hand over her mouth, but the words were already out. When was she going to install a filter between her thoughts and her mouth?
He made eye contact with her, and what she saw in the depths of his gaze made her breath catch in her throat. He leaned forward slowly. “Yes, Elise,” he murmured so softly she barely heard him. “I will miss you.”
An urge to match his posture, to kiss him and make love to him roared through her. And yet, he refused to tell her who he was, refused to trust her, refused to let her into his life for real. He continued to hide behind his big bad arms dealer persona, even though it clearly wasn’t who he really was. No man who rescued nuns and orphans was truly as violent and amoral as he claimed to be.
His voice low and charged, he asked, “Will you miss me?”
Instant answers leaped into her mind. Absolutely, she would miss him. Passionately. Desperately. Possibly, she’d miss him like that for the rest of her life. But for once, the words didn’t cross her lips before she stopped to think. Did she dare give him that much power over her? He’d already made clear his willingness not to fight fair with her.
“I’m afraid,” she whispered.
“Of me?” He froze, his mouth only a few inches from hers, alarm rising into his dark gaze.
“No. Of me.”
His lips curved in a smile. “Aah, well. That’s entirely different.”
“Maybe for you,” she retorted.
A silent laugh shook his shoulders. “Aah, my ever-feisty kitten. What am I going to do with you?”
She knew what she’d like him to do with her. But common sense warred with the desire coursing through her. She knew better. He was lying to her. He’d made it clear he planned to ditch her and the kids at the first opportunity. He was in some sort of violent business whether or not he was an arms dealer. She didn’t even know if Drago was his real name. Somehow, she thought not.
But oh, how tempting he was. All that confidence and protectiveness and hidden decency. Not to mention all that lovely, lovely muscle—
No. She wasn’t going to succumb to his charms, no matter how beautiful his smile or how sparkling and intelligent his eyes might be.
“I really shouldn’t,” he muttered.
“Shouldn’t what?” she echoed in surprise.
“Shouldn’t do this.” He leaned forward the last few inches and kissed her. His mouth moved gently across hers, beguiling her even as it wiped away any words of protest she might have uttered. He was right. They shouldn’t. But it felt oh so good.
“What’s wrong with this, again?” she mumbled against his mouth.
His hand came up to cup the back of her head. “Nothing. Everything.”
Temptation. That was the problem. Two weeks ago, she wouldn’t have thought twice about jumping into the sack with him. But living as a nun, seeing the respect with which everyone treated her, having to resist worldly things—all of it had been a revelation. She did have the strength of will to pick and choose her mistakes. Furthermore, she had a responsibility to herself to do exactly that. And logic told her sleeping with Drago Cantori would be a huge one.
Thi
ng was, now that he knew she wasn’t a nun, she didn’t have that to hide behind as an excuse anymore. If she wanted him, she could have him. She snorted mentally. Wanting him wasn’t any question. She wanted him more than anything she’d ever wanted in her life. The real question was, did she dare succumb to the attraction all but incinerating them both?
He nibbled lightly at her lips as if they had all the time in the world. Nearly groaning aloud with her need, she was acutely aware, however, that they might very well have only this one night. One shot at whatever it was simmering between them. She wouldn’t go so far as to label it happiness. Sex with him would be spectacular, thrilling, perhaps even life changing. But she highly doubted at the end of the day she’d be happy she’d done it.
He’d go off into the jungle to play arms dealer, and she’d take the kids back to the real world and never see him again. The finality of it all struck her forcefully, and the loss was acutely painful. Except how could she lose what she’d never had?
And that brought her right back around to the core problem. Temptation. And its name was Drago Cantori.
“Kiss me, Elise. Let go just this once.” As astute as always, he’d unerringly picked up on the source of her hesitation, darn him.
“But the children—”
He cut her off. “—Are asleep in the other room and Grandma’s watching them.”
That hadn’t been where she was going. She’d meant to say her duty to them came first.
“They’re fine. Don’t be a coward and hide behind them.”
A coward? She bristled inside. She was a lot of things, but a coward wasn’t one of them. Except…maybe he was right. She’d spent so long seeking revenge for her parents’ deaths that she’d closed out just about every other emotion but burning need for justice. The revelation broke over her like a cold shower: it wasn’t the children or her nun disguise she’d been hiding behind. It was her parents and their tragic deaths. And she’d been hiding behind those for a very long time.
Five years she’d spent holding on to their murder. Five years living only for vengeance, seeking a way to make it right. Except there was no way to fix the fact that they were gone. Look at the damage her quest had done to Mia and Emanuel. How many more people was she going to hurt in her hopeless search for a way to make it better?
