Desire & Deception

by Sahara Roberts

  “Right, Boss. Moving him up was a stupid mistake,” he said, chagrined.

  “Who’s his padrino?”

  Cruz hesitated for a second. “Felipe.”

  Kris scoffed. “Some damn godfather he turned out to be.” Great! Another show of questionable judgment from Felipe. “He needs to get his ass in here to clean up this goddamn mess. He’s responsible for everything his boy does.”

  “I’ll fix this mess immediately.”

  “Yes.” His voice was lined with steel. “You will.”

  Furious, Kris stalked over to his 4x4. He tossed the bag with Tessa’s things in the back of the double cab. The car might have been towed by now. If the girls’ documents were found, they might be reported to the authorities. That meant problems, big, expensive ones. If he hadn’t been distracted by Tessa, he might’ve gotten the blonde to leave the club with him. Money or drugs worked with that type of woman and he had both vices in spades. Damn it. No use worrying about it now. He was already running late for breakfast with Moni and he still had to stop at the hotel for a shirt.

  He started the powerful vehicle and hit reverse before slamming on the brakes.

  Felipe pulled up in front of the safe-house. Jaime was behind the wheel of the battered compact he was towing with his SUV.

  Frowning, he got out of the SUV and strode toward the car, barely sparing Kris a glance as he approached. Jaime edged out of the girls’ rental. He gave Kris a tentative tug of his cap, averting his eyes. A flush crawled up the lanky teenager’s face, leaving his complexion as red as the acne marring his chin.

  Felipe knelt on the unpaved street and loosened the nylon tow strap from the undercarriage. “I figured I’d better get this thing out of sight.”

  “About time one of you did something right.”

  Felipe clenched his jaw as he stared at the radiator. “Yeah, why didn’t you—”

  “Bring me a Coke,” Kris called out to Jaime. “Make sure you get the coldest bottle in the refrigerator.”

  Felipe tensed. He pointed his foot and jammed it against the ground. “Goddamn!” He shot up, checking his new boots for any damage to the snakeskin.

  Kris waited for Jaime to go past them, leaning away from his bruised ankle, before continuing. “Why was Jaime with you?”

  Felipe ran his finger along the embroidery, clearing off any offending specks before starting on his jeans. “I got the Doc a ride to town, Oscar’s out of commission, the guys are still out on a delivery, and Cruz is watching the house. Who else did you expect me to take?”

  Kris stared at Jaime’s retreating form. “How often are you taking the kid with you on jobs?”

  Felipe shrugged. “I don’t. Not normally.”

  “He shouldn’t be mixed up in this.”

  Felipe cocked his head, the muscles along his jaw twitching. “All he did was steer.” He sniffed. “Besides, he’ll eventually have to do more than wash my truck and keep watch.”

  “You didn’t tell Cruz where you were going.”

  Felipe’s upper lip curled. “He knows I’m on the direct connect. What’s the matter, you think he can’t handle his shit?”

  “Cruz can handle himself.”

  Felipe cocked his head, the muscles along his jaw twitching. “Then why do you have a wild hair up your ass about leaving him here alone?”

  Kris scowled. If his jaw got any tighter, his molars would implode. Dust swirled around them as the wind picked up.

  One of the perks of living at the end of the neighborhood was the lack of neighbors. The dirt road ended in cacti and purple sage in full bloom. A tall cinder block fence surrounding the property kept people from poking around.

  “Soon as the kid gets back, we’ll stash this piece of crap.” Felipe plunked down in the car, jamming his shin in the process. He reached between his knees, releasing the lever before shoving the driver’s seat far enough to give him some room.

  “Put the damn thing in gear.” Kris strode to the rear of the car and braced his hands against the trunk, preparing to push the vehicle out of the way.

  Felipe’s eyes shot to the rearview mirror. He did a double-take.

  Every muscle on his arms and shoulders bulged. “Turn the wheel!” Kris snarled. They maneuvered beside the vehicles in the drive, past the side of the house, to the back yard.

  Felipe put the gearshift in park and got out.

  Kris walked toward him, looking into the car.

  “I didn’t clean out their things.”

  “I’ve got it,” Kris said in trite dismissal.

  Felipe’s nostrils flared. “Keys are in the ignition.” He headed to the house, his steps stiff and choppy.

  Kris opened the compact rental car and peered in. He pushed back the driver’s seat to accommodate his longer frame. A collection of pamphlets littered the backseat from the girls playing tourist the past few days. The glove compartment offered up their permits and passports. The center console held an iPOD, camera, English to Spanish translator, and lipstick.

  An insistent buzz sent him searching every corner. The back floorboard yielded a pink phone covered in rhinestones. The buzzing continued elsewhere. He reached under the seats, returning with a plain black smartphone still attached to the charger. A message popped up announcing the missed call below the picture of a familiar brunette with hazel eyes.

  He leaned back, dropping his head against the rest. “Son of a bitch.” How did Monica end up tangled up in this?

  Jaime arrived with a Coke and a bottle opener.

  Kris popped off the bottle cap before returning the opener to Jaime. No man in his position would ever take an open container. This business brought a lot of enemies, most of them dangerous. “Go back to your post and stay there.”

  Jaime hobbled away.

  Kris collected the girls’ belongings, locked the car, and then headed to his truck.

  Holding Tessa was supposed to be simple. Keep her out of trouble for a couple of days then hand her off. Suddenly, things had gotten complicated. The cartel had kept under the radar for so long by not involving innocents. Everyone came through for a reason, except maybe Tessa Marshal.

  Normally, people only stayed a day or two while families collected ransom money. There’d been a couple of deaths over the years, but they’d been double-crossing drug dealers or murderers. People who lived hard and expected to die harder.

  She shouldn’t matter, but she did. Now he had to find out about her. Well, not just Tessa, both women. What the hell were they into?

  He drove down the mountain, taking care with an elderly couple trying to catch a bus. He reached the edge of the neighborhood before pulling into a parking lot. A sign at the entrance announced the building would be closed until noon. Commuters drove past on the main road, oblivious. Kris pulled out his phone and punched in the number he’d memorized long ago. No contacts were programmed in case the worst happened.

  “Hello, my love.” Ida’s hoarse voice made him grin. His handler at ICE was older than his mother would have been if she was still alive. They’d both sputtered and stumbled and turned all shades of red when they’d run through the code they’d be using. Their conversations guaranteed any overheard communications would be dismissed as nothing more than an ongoing flirtation—and you never knew when someone might be listening. Felipe had aspirations of moving up in the organization. The easiest way was to learn what everyone was up to then take out the competition. “This is a surprise.” She yawned delicately into the phone. “Miss me?”

  Working undercover in the cartel didn’t exactly allow for days off. This was supposed to be one of the few times he was stealing an hour to spend with family. “Always, baby. You up and dressed?” Her long-suffering sigh didn’t deter him. In this case, he needed her “ready” to do some research. “I have two pigeons in the coup. I need anything and everything you can find on them.”

  “Now that sounds like something worth getting out of bed for.” She gave a throaty laugh. “I’m ready.”


  Kris unfolded the travel permits and dictated the information on the girls. Technology in the U.S. was a wonderful thing. A person’s entire life could be found online.

  “I’ll get right on it, lover,” she said with excitement.

  Kris stared at the permits. His eyes narrowed. Why did Tessa say she didn’t have anyone to provide a ransom? What was she hiding?

  “You coming by soon?”

  He and Rio, his counterpart in the Mexican government, were preparing for a direct blow at the heart of the cartel. On his part, he still had a lot of locations to check on so Rio’s people wouldn’t walk into any surprises. “After I wrap up a few things, I’ll be by to see you.”

  “I can hardly wait,” she purred.

  He attempted a lighthearted tone. “Now get to work on that for me.”

  “I’ll call you, but I might be late.” She sighed. “You inspired me to get my hair done.”

  Kris stashed the documents in the glove box. “I’ll be waiting.”

  Now to cancel breakfast with Moni.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Tessa stood at the window while the sun inched toward the horizon. She was reasonably sure she was still in the Monterrey area. Somewhere in a neighborhood built high into the slope of the Sierra Madre. Kids played in the distance, beat up buses rumbled through the streets, and a rooster crowed.

  Earlier in the day, a neighbor set up a tub and washboard in the backyard. Tessa had managed to get her attention without alerting anyone downstairs. The dark-skinned woman had stopped dead then turned toward the clothesline. She worried her hands against a threadbare T-shirt, her eyes darting around. For a moment, she stood there, chest rising in agitation, then her brows gathered in a sorrowful expression. Slowly, she ducked her head, made the sign of the cross, and pinned a tiny onesie to the line. She didn’t look up for the rest of the morning.

  Tessa’s last wisp of hope was snuffed out. Kris was right. Who would cause problems with a gang of gun-toting criminals? She didn’t try again.

  Music filtered in the open window. A DJ interrupted her brooding, announcing the time.

  By now, Monica must’ve figured out something had gone wrong. She’d wonder what happened to them. Tessa bit her nail. Moni would probably be guilt-ridden for suggesting they go dancing.

  The house was quiet below her. There hadn’t been a peep from Heather or anyone else all day. Was she okay? The doctor hadn’t mentioned anything about treating another woman. When would Kris come back? What would happen then?

  The day dragged on endlessly, with nothing to do. The room contained the bed and dresser, nothing else to explore. The white-washed stucco had an unremarkable, staircase crack at one corner and a dark ring at the bottom where a mop had been dragged along the wall. She’d whiled away some time searching out pieces of glass he might have missed. Later, she ran toilet paper across the area to collect any tiny shards. Later still, she did the entire floor to kill time.

  The slide lock slammed open. Kris came in carrying plastic bags, looking wickedly handsome in a dark blue, button down shirt and jeans.

  “You all right?” He did a quick scan and frowned.

  “Yes.” She stepped off the bed as he came closer.

  He dropped the bags on the dresser. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”

  He’d taken the broken lamp this morning. That only left a bare bulb at the bathroom entrance. “I can’t reach the pull-string.”

  He yanked the cord, filling the area with weak light before he approached her. Gently, he pulled back her hair to check the progress of her injury then checked the bruise on her forearm.

  “You’re not getting under the shirt again.” Her chin rose. She tried her best to keep a blush at bay. “All you’re going to find is black and blue skin.”

  He searched her face for a moment before releasing her. “I picked up some fajita tacos. Nothing fancy, but you won’t go hungry.”

  She nodded while he rummaged through the bags. Her tummy had been rumbling for a while, thanks to the dinner scents floating over from next door.

  “I got the pain meds the doc prescribed. Take a couple so you can get some rest tonight.” He set an unfamiliar bottle out, along with a blue tin and some spring water, two soft drinks, and the foil-wrapped tacos. The second bag yielded a package of navy sheets. He tore open the plastic, unfolding the contents.

  Thoughtful. Tessa moved around to help refit the mattress.

  “Thanks.” He unwrapped the pillowcases. “Figured I’d get new sheets. Didn’t think I’d be able to sleep on those ratty ones.”

  The fitted sheet slipped out of her hands. He’s staying the night. Images of bare skin, hard muscles, and sensuous kisses threw her pulse into an erratic beat. The hard-on can’t be helped…

  “Damn.” He frowned again.

  “W-what?” She drew an unsteady breath.

  “Pillowcases are the wrong size.” The pillow was long and lumpy, bigger than a king-size, but still only one. To share. Tapping down her reluctance, she circled the bed on shaky legs to take over his task. She worked a pillowcase onto either side of the oversized bundle while ignoring his eyes on her. That look had a way of making her check that her buttons were properly closed. She handed back the pillow then sidestepped him to find her dinner.

  With nowhere to sit, she stood by the dresser while she opened the foil.

  Kris reached around her, grabbed a drink, and slid his pocket knife under the cap to open the bottle.

  Her mouth watered. Over the past few days, she’d developed a weakness for Mexican soft drinks, or sodas, as the locals called them. She set the other foil package on the corner for him as he set down her drink and picked up his own.

  “They’re for you. I’ve already eaten.”

  “That’s a lot of food.” Two tacos heaping with fajita and avocado on warm corn tortillas along with piquin peppers should fill her up.

  “I’d guess the last time you ate was yesterday.” Kris lounged against the door, Coke in hand, watching her.

  He’s fishing.

  She chewed, taking her time, not saying a word, making an effort not to think about sharing the bed with him in a few hours. Finally, she stuffed the trash in the plastic bag. “Thank you for dinner. I was hungrier than I realized.”

  Kris regarded her with the same fiery stare from last night. Warmth spread inside her. He’d turned back into that man—the one she’d had straining against her, naked.

  She retreated to the bathroom, mumbling about needing to wash her hands and pull her mind from the gutter. In English, of course, so he wouldn’t understand. Ten seconds later, she was racking her brain over how to kill more time. The closet-sized bathroom offered few options. She splashed her face then blotted with the shirt collar. His scent teased her senses even though she’d worn the shirt all day. With nothing more to do, she retraced her steps, then settled at the foot of the bed and waited.

  His stance was relaxed, inviting a woman to climb up well-formed thighs, across yummy six pack abs, to settle against a rock-solid chest. She could run her fingers through his hair and pick out each shade of rich brown, blonde, and copper.

  “Take me back to yesterday.”

  Hmm? She swallowed, gathering her thoughts. “Yesterday. Ummm. Well, you’re right. I had dinner about this time last night.”

  His expression dropped the room temperature.

  Uh-oh. “What exactly are you looking for?” She rested one ankle over the other, trying to feign calm.

  His boot scraped the floor as he shifted his weight. “Where did you go?”

  She straightened the shirttails, gathering her thoughts. This was going to be a battle of wits, and much to her chagrin, he had the upper hand right now. “To a seafood place across from the hotel.”

  “Tell me more.”

  “Chef served a fantastic red snapper.”

  “And?”

  “The waiter flirted with us the entire night,” she supplied with a straight face.

  “Who
was there?”

  She moistened her lips as she held his gaze. “Heather and I.” No way she’d turn over the others.

  “Who else, little Tessa?” he asked patiently.

  The tacos churned in her stomach. “Some friends joined us for dinner before we went club hopping.”

  “Who are your friends?”

  She clamped her jaws, unable to come up with a suitable decoy. Her heart pounded in her throat. Any minute now, she’d hit a wall. He was weaving through questions faster than her brain could check the angles. She couldn’t come up with a story, keep the facts straight, and translate the words to Spanish. He’d catch her, now or later, and make hell that much hotter for her.

  “What’s the big secret?”

  “Does it matter?” She crossed her legs, trying to curb the anxiety welling up inside her. Get a grip.

  “What brought you to Monterrey?”

  “I came to visit a friend.”

  “Tell me about your friend,” he insisted.

  She turned away, curling her fingers, fighting the urge to fidget. Crap. This night wasn’t going to end well for her.

  “Him? Her? Friend? Boyfriend?” His tone went lower. “Lover?”

  Her eyes met his. Is that what he thought? She hesitated, choosing her words with care. “I hadn’t taken a vacation in years. I booked the trip to see my friend—who’ll remain unnamed.”

  He drank from his bottle then continued, staring at her. “After dinner with friends, you decide to go clubbing.”

  She nodded.

  “How many places did you hit?”

  “Um, we went to three clubs.” That damn stare grated on her frayed nerves.

  “And where was your friend when Oscar followed you out?”

  She bit off her words before revealing a female. “They’d already left. Thank goodness.”

  His lip curled. “What kind of friend abandons a woman in the city knowing she isn’t familiar with the area?”