Desire & Deception

by Sahara Roberts

  Felipe’s thin-lipped expression was bitter, but he remained silent. He cupped his fingers around a cigarette. His thumb dragged across the lighter with short, choppy strokes until he had a flame.

  “All shipments in and out of this area are suspended after tonight. I don’t want anything going wrong between now and the meeting.” Kris stared at Oscar as he finished his announcement. Oscar’s shoulders hunched. He’d been scratching under his cast, trying not to call attention to himself. “Cruz, Felipe,” Kris continued. “I’ll need one of you here at all times.”

  “You got it, Boss.” Cruz crunched on a spicy pork rind as he grinned at Felipe.

  Kris went on before Cruz started taunting Felipe. “Get me one of your guys to cover the first shift with Oscar.”

  Cruz’s head snapped back, sending his jowls rippling. He coughed until he cleared his throat. “You’re sending Oscar?”

  The whites of Oscar’s eyes were a stark contrast to the bruising around his broken nose.

  “He’s not completely useless.” Kris gave Oscar a cold stare. “Tonight, all you’ll do is sit on your ass and keep your damn eyes open.” To the group, “Everyone else can go. I’ll have Cruz contact you when you’re up for a shift.”

  Oscar shuffled over, his head hanging low. “Jefe.” His Adams apple bobbed. “Thank you for giving me another chance.”

  Kris’s expression could’ve been carved out of granite. “Your saving grace is the girl fought off two other men, one being Felipe.”

  “I followed Blondie out. Tessa had the keys in her hand when I walked past them to meet the guys. They musta switched last second.” He continued to purge his gut. “I shouldn’t have gone after her when she was down. I was wrong. Please tell her I’m sorry, jefe. She’s a little thing… I was in pain and wasn’t thinking straight.”

  Kris ignored his ranting. “The kidnappings can’t be traced back to you or the organization?” He accompanied the question with a dead stare.

  “No, jefe.” Oscar shook his head in emphasis.

  “If that’s true, you’ll keep your skin. If not, the order might come from higher up, and not even God would be able to save you.”

  Oscar ran his hand over his tattoo of La Santisima Muerte. The dark image of the Death Saint covered most of his forearm. “Cruz already warned me.”

  “Cruz told you I’d send him after you?” Kris asked with mild amusement.

  “Well, yeah. He said it might come to that.”

  “He was wrong.” A cold smile spread across his lips. “Killing someone isn’t punishment, keeping him alive is.”

  Oscar’s Adam’s apple bobbed. A sick color filtered into his skin.

  Kris’s cell rang in time to keep Oscar from wetting himself.

  “Hello,” he answered casually, as if he hadn’t just threatened a man’s life.

  “Hey, lover.” For once, he wasn’t glad to hear Ida’s throaty voice. “I got something for you.” Damn it! There was nowhere he go right now for a private conversation. Even if there was, him disappearing for a phone call with his “lover” would be out of character.

  He exhaled, tapping down his disappointment. “Bad timing, doll. You caught me on my way out.” He headed to his truck with several men at his heels.

  “So you won’t be by?” she pouted.

  “Not tonight, baby. I’m working.”

  “Are you sure work is keeping you out?”

  “Sweetheart, trust me, neither one of my partners could fill out a teddy like you do.” Her throaty chuckle made him smile. “I have to go.”

  “When are you free again?” she asked hopefully.

  “We can talk tomorrow morning, all right?” he soothed.

  “Of course, my love.” She blew a kiss over the line. “Stay safe.”

  “Always, baby.”

  …

  The hours dragged for Tessa, with precious little to distract her. She’d paced, stretched, and paced again but only proceeded in tiring her body and not her mind.

  While not standard in the U.S., the metal door, which she had checked earlier, was solid. The hinges were on the outside, probably done to lock people in instead of out. She moved to the window; the bars were welded to the frame. Even if she fit between them, she still had a sheer drop to uneven ground.

  She’d counted the cinder blocks on the fence surrounding the property. Sixteen rows high, more than twice her size, impossible to climb. Next, she counted rooftops then went back for the tinacos, a water deposit commonly found in Mexico. All those homes, full of families, none of which would help her.

  Don’t try to run.

  She was barefoot and bare-assed without a clue as to where they were holding her. What did he expect her to do? Take off down the mountain and jump on a bus? She’d given up nailing down their schedules. Sometimes an hour passed between routes, sometimes fifteen to twenty minutes, and other times they piled up along the unpaved street.

  What would happen if they caught her?

  She rubbed the red marks on her wrists.

  More important, what would happen to Heather? She’d been quiet, maybe bound and gagged. For someone with ADHD, like Heather, sitting in a room all day with nothing to do equaled torture.

  “I’m going to drive myself nuts.”

  The DJ on the neighbor’s radio remained her only companion while sheer nothingness weighed on her. She flopped on her back. Her life had come down to counting cinder blocks…and waiting for Kris. She exhaled noisily. Mom had drilled the need to be self-sufficient into her head since she was little. Never rely on a man. He’ll only let you down. Just like your father…

  Helplessness reached across the years. In a matter of hours, she’d trampled every accomplishment she’d strived for. She’d buried her mother and graduated high school within months of each other. Then struggled to work while trying to earn her degree. It took her three jobs and a lot of sacrifice to buy her house. But she finally had everything she’d dreamed of as a kid. Now she was starting over, completely dependent on Kris for shelter, safety, food, water, medication, warmth, and companionship. Pretty soon she’d be out of bath tissue, just one more thing he’d have to provide for her.

  Dealing with him plucked every raw nerve. She flat out didn’t get him. He jumped from feeling sorry for her to intimidating her to looking like he wanted to drag her to bed. Instinct warned her he was dangerous. Big, scary thugs backing off from him confirmed it. She was better off with him being a thug. Those men never failed to meet her expectations. They just took what they wanted and left, a lesson she’d learned with the only boy she’d ever believed in.

  It was the Kris she’d woken up with this morning that gave her cause for alarm. Soft, warm, gentle, and caring wasn’t as easy to sidestep. She’d dreaded what would happen last night, especially with him staying. But he’d held her, reassuring her when the conversations she’d overheard had brought her close to panic. Was it all an act? Could a man like that really exist?

  I give up.

  With little else to do, she finally unwrapped the cold burger and dined by streetlight. A ping echoed off the door. Tessa put down a half-eaten fry. Metal screeched as the slide lock moved. Fear widened her eyes. She swallowed the mouthful she was chewing. The door rattled against the metal frame, tapping out a wild beat.

  She scampered off the bed, looking for anything she could use as a weapon. The room had been stripped. Even the toilet had no seat, tank cover, or flush handle.

  Who’d be trying to get in? Cruz? Oscar? Her knowledge of self-defense wouldn’t get her far. Not without the element of surprise.

  Her gaze swept the room once more. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

  She was out of options.

  A shower of light pings battered the door. The knot at her shoulders eased and she exhaled, glad to discover it was nothing more treacherous than a strong wind.

  Relieved, she turned to the window, pulling it closed just as a dust devil flung a curtain of dirt straight into her face. />
  …

  Kris nudged open the lock to let himself in. Damn. She can’t reach the cord. He undressed in the muted darkness, peering at the bed. Something was off. The bundle on the mattress wasn’t Tessa. He went still, listening to the surroundings, preparing for an assault.

  Even breathing cut into his conscious. He stepped closer, drawing back the sheet. Tessa groaned, wedging herself further between the oversized pillow and mattress. Kris exhaled, his shoulders sagging. “Shhh, it’s me.”

  She curled her legs under her and tried to burrow deeper.

  Kris pried her arm from around the pillow, despite another groan, then tossed it against the headboard before settling in. She twitched. She moved. She shifted. “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Getting under the shirt.”

  Jesus, woman. His cock tightened against his zipper. Just what he needed, an image of her nude under the sheet.

  She whimpered.

  He sobered, focusing on her weak complaint. “What’s wrong?”

  “My ribs.”

  He locked his jaw, cursing Oscar all over again. “Turn over.”

  She stalled. “I sleep on my right side.”

  “You’re also hurt on this side,” he reasoned.

  She scoffed at his suggestion and dragged the sheet around her.

  “Fine. Suffer.” He relaxed. Hopefully, he’d get more than a couple hours sleep tonight.

  “How can you not be cold?”

  Or not.

  Personally, he preferred the cool night air, but she didn’t have much protection against the chill. Resigned, his eyelids slid open to stare at the ceiling. “Turn over and move up.”

  “The damn pillow’s too high. My neck hurt all day.”

  He followed the outline to her shoulder, working the tense muscles. At the base of her skull, he switched to small circles. His index and middle finger kept firm pressure, moving up into damp locks. “You showered?”

  “I rinsed off.”

  “That’s why you’re cold.”

  “A windstorm kicked up earlier, covering everything in dirt, including me. I got a face-full when I went to close the window.”

  He moved past her neck, draping his arm over her shoulder while working the stiffness out of her spine. He studied her shadowed features as she lay next to him in silent resignation. She looked innocent and fragile in the dark. Part of him wanted to set her at ease, but he wasn’t about to jeopardize the mission he’d been working on for years. They’d just have to deal with the situation for a couple more days.

  “That’s good. Thanks.”

  “Go on,” he coaxed. “Turn around.”

  “Oh Lord,” she mumbled in English. He grinned. She was slow to move, but she complied. He scooted closer, tucking in behind her. Guilt nagged at him when her cold back touched his chest. She shivered against him. Maybe I shouldn’t have thrown out the bedspread. He tossed her hair over the pillow. “Put your feet between my legs and cross your arms.” She shivered again. His arm went around her, settling over hers to bring her close.

  Now he had to convince his cock this was nothing more than sharing body heat.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Fuck.”

  Kris sat downstairs in the vault, a windowless room where they stored anything of value. He stared at the stacks in front of him and slouched, tired after yet another sleepless night.

  Twice now he’d tried counting the money from last night’s deal. Both times his mind wandered to Tessa and the fact she lay upstairs wearing nothing but his shirt and a smile. Well, not quite a smile. This morning, her sleepy eyes held a hint of sorrow. Her mood tugged at something deep inside him. Why do I care?

  Last night he’d stood by Oscar, knowing the guy was a ball of nerves. Ida’s call couldn’t have been timed better. Oscar heard the exchange, enough to avoid any suspicion of deception. To them, Tessa would continue to be the plaything hidden away for his exclusive pleasure.

  He could only wish.

  Hours had dragged by as he thought of the half-empty bed awaiting him, and the woman who occupied it. She shouldn’t spend so much time in his head. And his cock shouldn’t jump to attention every time he thought about her. Somewhere along the way, being with her had turned intimate. And damned if he didn’t like it. He kept reminding himself she could easily be another double-crossing drug dealer, not that his gut would accept that.

  Again, his mind shifted to the hours she spent locked in, waiting. He’d check the convenience store for a book or a crossword puzzle. Hmm, considering her mastery of the language, a Sudoku tablet would probably be the best the place could do.

  Giving up, he stuffed the money in the duffle bags.

  Pancakes might cheer her up. He went to a drawer and withdrew enough money to pick up food for everyone.

  “Be back later with breakfast.”

  Felipe sat back, brow furrowed. Kris turned away and grinned. Nothing could have cheered him up more than making Felipe wonder what he was up to.

  …

  Kris grabbed one of the soft, oversized towels provided by the hotel. He ran it across his hair then down his torso before wrapping it around his hips. Padding across the room, he picked up this month’s burner phone and entered the code to unlock the screen. The message was quick and to the point. “I need you. M.”

  He’d expected to hear from her, but he’d hoped Ida would come through first. There’d be no putting off the call, better to take care of it now or he’d never hear the end of it. Monica, his cousin, could be relentless, so he had to keep control of the conversation.

  The phone only rang for a fraction of a second. “Hello?” Monica’s anxious voice came across the line, muffled with congestion.

  “Good morning, prima,” he greeted her with a cheerful tone. “How a—”

  “Thank St. Anthony!” She mumbled the Stations of the Cross, oblivious to the fact that she’d just cut him off. “I’m so sorry to call you, but I desperately need your help.” She rushed through the words then came to an abrupt stop. “I’m sorry, primo, good morning.”

  “What do you need, Moni? Is everyone alright?” he asked with concern.

  “The family is ok, but I have a friend that I can’t find.” She quickly went on to give him details from Saturday night. Thinking back on her timeline, they’d missed each other at the club by less than an hour.

  “Moni, it’s been three days and you just noticed these people are missing?” he chastised.

  “Noooo!” Exasperated, she corrected the timeline. “It was late Saturday night, or I guess it was early Sunday morning.”

  Instead of diminishing any possible scolding, Kris piled on additional censure to keep her from gaining the upper hand. “Why would you leave two Americans on their own in the middle of the night? Can they make themselves understood? Maybe they’re just lost somewhere.”

  “Tessa insisted I shouldn’t wait. She was tired and ready to call it night. We’ve already checked every hospital and clinic in the area, in case she fell asleep at the wheel and had an accident—God forbid.” Monica finally burst into tears. Kris’s grip tightened on the phone. He’d expected concern or anxiety from his level-headed cousin, but not this. “I’m such an idiot,” she said between sobs. “Papá has been yelling at me since yesterday about leaving her, but Tessa knew where we were. She was only going to give Heather until two and go back to the hotel.” She took a deep breath. “But they never made it.”

  Kris exhaled loudly. Guilt hammered on him every time she said Tessa’s name. Knowing Moni, she felt responsible for everything that had gone wrong. He could easily end this now and tell her the truth. But his assignment kept him from disclosing any details. Hell, he shouldn’t even be talking to her.

  Feeling like the worst ass in creation, he steered the conversation in a different direction. “You know, some of the women that come to enjoy our country tend to let their hair down. Maybe your friend picked up a handsome devil somewhere, and she’s tangled up in the sheet
s with him. It’s been known to happen.”

  “Tessa isn’t like that.” She gave a teary sniff. “Heather’s like that, but not Tessa.” She blew her nose. “When she didn’t show for lunch, I just knew something was terribly wrong. She’s not answering the phone. They aren’t at the hotel, the hospitals, or any police station.” The sobs returned, tugging at his conscience. “She’s my closest friend. I told her to keep her eyes open, but what if someone took her? Heather’s got a big mouth. What if she pissed off the wrong people? Please, if you hear anything, will you let me know? I don’t care what time it is, please. You’re my only chance to find the girls if they were taken.”

  The muscle in his cheek twitched. He never could say no to Monica. Though in reality, he still didn’t know what Tessa and Heather were up to. If they were involved in buying drugs, he’d have to leave them to the local authorities. They’d end up rotting in a Mexican jail, living in squalor, or negotiating with depraved guards just to stay alive. And if I’m wrong? His instincts had never failed him, but he’d had trouble reading Tessa since the beginning. “I can make a few calls tonight,” he grudgingly agreed. “Do you have a way to reach their families? If the cartel has them, it may take some money to get them home.”

  “I’ll talk to the hotel concierge, see if they have an emergency contact number for Heather. Papá closed the office. He’s at the bank now getting money in case you find Tessa.” Kris stood frozen while she sped through her explanation, hoping he wouldn’t change his mind. “He didn’t like Heather, but if push comes to shove, I’m sure he’ll go back.”

  Shit just got serious. A maelstrom of disbelief, anger, and concern engulfed him. His uncle was a dedicated physician who’d closed the office exactly twice. Once to collect him at the hospital and deal with his parents’ funerals. The second time to fly to the U.S. and get him back on track after he’d floundered dangerously close to dropping out. Both times were serious family issues. Shit. Who exactly was Tessa Marshal? What made her so important? Every new piece of information added more puzzle pieces to the table. Most of them leading back to Moni and the family. Doubt pushed to the forefront. Moni wasn’t a fool, neither were his aunt and uncle. I hope to God you aren’t being taken for a ride. Years dealing with lowlife individuals made him doubt Tessa would risk her life to keep the cartel from tracking Monica. Could it really be that simple? She was protecting someone she cared about? But then what about the stolen shipment?