by Tawny Weber
Still, she should mention the possibility.
He’d look at her differently once she explained. Everyone did, as soon as they found out who her father was. Or, in the rare event that they hadn’t heard of him, when they found out how much money her family was worth they got weird. Greedy or grabby or gossipy. Sometimes all three.
Travis was a Super SEAL beach bum, which meant he probably wasn’t living life for the money.
Probably.
She squeezed her hands again, frustration spinning through her. Whether or not he was interested in money, he’d still look at her differently. She could already hear him adding spoiled brat to the drama queen designation he’d tagged her with.
Lila blinked back tears she didn’t understand.
“I want my stuff,” she heard herself say. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do with it—head to the airport or get a room at a different hotel using charm and a smile instead of cash. But whatever she did, she wanted her things. “I’d like you to release my luggage to me right now.”
As soon as she said that, she remembered that she didn’t have her purse, nor any identification.
God, this day was sucking. Lila rubbed two fingers over her temple in hopes of preventing that nasty headache from returning while she figured out what to do. But apparently eager to make up for their questionable early checkout choice, the desk clerk gave a smile and nodded.
“This way, please,” she said, and gestured for them to follow her around the counter and down a short hallway to a locked room. “Would you care to go through the suitcases to ensure everything is as it should be?”
Three large suitcases, a makeup case and her computer bag were all stacked neatly in the corner of what, from the rolling racks, Lila assumed was the bell captain’s room. A quick look showed the locks still in place, each suitcase’s zippers meeting in the corners the way Lila always closed them. It didn’t look like anyone had gone through them, but given her luck so far this week, she figured she should check anyway.
“I’d prefer to go through my things in private.”
The desk clerk nodded and, with a quick look to ensure that there was no other luggage in the room, offered, “Feel free to use this room. I’ll be at the front desk if you need me.”
Lila waited until she’d left, closing the door behind her, before huffing out a long breath.
“My suitcase key was stolen this morning, along with my wallet and aspirin.”
“No worries,” Travis said with a shrug. “I can break those locks.”
He stared at the pile of suitcases with a frown.
“What?” Lila asked after a handful of seconds, looking from his face to her pile of luggage and back again. “Is this where you make some snotty comment about how much stuff I brought?”
“How long have you been in Puerto Viejo?”
“I arrived yesterday. And before you ask, I’d planned to leave right after I’d gotten Chef Rodriguez to agree to come work for my clients. I’d figured tomorrow or the next day at the latest.”
“Four bags, four days. Sounds about right.” He bent over to check out one of the locks, then shot her a look. “Impressive security. Is your underwear lined with gold?”
Color stained her cheeks. Not over Travis thinking about her underwear. That she kind of liked. But she was too embarrassed to explain that the locks were a gift from a paranoid parent with control issues. No point in letting a man she’d like to show her underwear to know she had daddy issues.
“Is that your way of saying you can’t open the locks?” she asked instead.
“I can open anything. The question is, what are your plans once I do?” With complete disregard for the possibility of gold-lined panties, Travis sat on the suitcase and gestured. “If you want to stick around, we need to get you situated somewhere safe. If you want to get out of here, you need to get to the US Embassy in San José so you can start unraveling red tape.”
Or she could call her father and let him take care of everything. He’d contact the pilot who’d likely paid the hotel bill and have him stand as security. A few pulled strings and she’d have ID, a passport, cash and credit cards.
Lila bit her lip.
It was so tempting to take the easy route.
“I don’t want to run away,” she said quietly, staring at her hands for a long moment before meeting his eyes. “I wouldn’t like myself if I did.”
“Choosing the option to leave doesn’t fall under the self-help category,” he said impatiently. “Think it through. You came here to hire a cook for a new job. That cook is most likely dead. You stay here trying to confirm that death, you’re in danger.”
He was right.
There was no reason for her to stay. But her stomach clenched at the idea of leaving. She didn’t know why, though.
She shifted her gaze, staring at Travis.
Maybe he was why.
He had a long, deep streak of grumpiness and the most incredible body of any man she’d ever seen. If his back rub was anything to go by, he knew exactly how to use it.
He had a career she hated. But he’d protected her; he’d saved her. He made her smile, made her feel safe and made her feel strong.
He turned her on; he pissed her off.
Often both at the same time.
Which was nearly as confusing as the riotous feelings she had for him. Feelings she barely recognized.
None of which were reasons to stick around, she told herself.
“I really should go,” she decided, searching those dark eyes for something. Anything. “As long as I’m here, I’m putting you in danger, too.”
“If that’s your only reason for leaving, get over it. C’mon,” Travis said, looping her makeup tote’s handle over one suitcase’s pull, then grabbing the biggest bag’s handle. “Can you take care of the last bag and your laptop case?”
Get over it? Just like that? The man might have the sweetest set of shoulders she’d ever seen and magic hands when it came to massage. But he had a jerk personality.
Instead of answering, Lila hooked the leather strap over her shoulder and snapped open the pull of the smallest case. She’d talk to the front desk, find out how to get to a bank, the embassy, the airport. Without ID, none of it was going to be easy.
With that in mind, she followed Travis out of the cupboard of a room and around the front desk. He waited while she settled things with the desk clerk, not looking surprised when he instructed the woman to keep Lila’s departure to herself.
Together, she and Travis crossed the lobby toward the door. Before they reached it, Montoya strode inside. The three of them stopped at the same time, the cop casting an interested look between the two of them while Lila gave the tiniest of groans.
“Hey, there, Montoya,” Travis greeted easily. “How’s it going?”
“Senor Hawkins, what a surprise.” Montoya’s snake-like gaze shifted from Travis to Lila, his expression considering. “Senorita, I was coming to talk with you. A few moments of your time, por favor.”
“Actually—”
“In here, please,” he interrupted, gesturing to the mostly empty dining room before she could finish her excuse. “Unless you’d prefer the police station?”
“I am hungry,” Lila declared, flipping her suitcase so the wheels faced the dining room. She twitched her shoulder to ensure the laptop bag didn’t slide and, chin high, strode toward the possibility of breakfast.
“Feel free to wait in the lobby, senor. There’s no need to accompany Senorita Adrian.”
Lila’s stomach rattled. Before nerves could dig their claws in, though, Travis wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
“That’s cool. I’ll stick with Lila.”
He led her into the dining room at an easy pace.
There were no diners, and the glass tables were being set by the pair
of servers. One woman wrote the day’s specials on a chalkboard, while another checked the glassware for spots. Rich scents poured out of the double doors leading to the kitchen, making Lila’s stomach grumble.
But Montoya cleared the room with a single gesture before she could ask for a menu.
“Be seated,” Montoya said, pointing at a corner table that hadn’t been set yet. Instead of hurrying over and grabbing a chair, Travis strolled at half-pace, pulling Lila’s suitcases behind. He stacked them tidily against the wall, then gestured for Lila to bring hers over, too.
A little afraid of Montoya’s impatient glare, Lila hurried over, yanking her suitcase behind. The wheels twisted in the wrong direction so it thumped over the carpet, almost making her trip. Before she could heft it higher, Travis took it and added it to the tidy stack next to the table. Gesturing, he pulled out a chair and waited for her to be seated before taking the one next to her. They both looked across at the cop.
“Are you quite comfortable?” Montoya asked once they’d settled. So much sarcasm coated his words that Lila was surprised it wasn’t dripping from his mustache.
“We’d probably be more comfortable with something to eat. Any chance of getting a late breakfast?” Travis asked, looking around the dining room as if expecting a waiter to hop on over.
“I am hungry.” Lila’s conciliatory smile faded at the cop’s dead-eyed expression. “But I can eat later.”
“Indeed.” Montoya made a show of pulling out a small notebook from his shirt pocket. He uncapped a pen, then gave them both an expectant look.
Lila waited, but he didn’t say a word.
He just stared.
Ooh, intimidation tactics. Her gaze met Travis’s, her lips twitching when he rolled his eyes.
But after fifteen seconds of silence, she shifted in her chair and, unable to look at the policeman any longer, watched her fingers instead.
After thirty, she was ready to confess anything and everything, from the lies she’d told her father to the time she’d stolen a lipstick from her bitchy college roommate. Or the drunk-on-daiquiris one-night stand she had with a stripper after that same roommate’s bachelorette party.
At the one-minute mark, she opened her mouth to spill it all and beg Montoya to tell her what he wanted. Before she could make a sound, Travis gripped her knee under the table. The warmth of his hand on hers sent tingles through her system, desire drowning out intimidation.
“Seriously, dude. If you plan on keeping us here long, we could use a menu,” Travis said, his words straddling that line between friendly and firm. “And don’t bother to threaten us with a visit to the station house again. We both know if you had cause, you’d have hauled us off there already.”
Montoya tapped the pen against his notepad for a few moments, then inclined his head. “Indeed.”
That word was going to get annoying after a few more dead-eyed utterings, Lila decided.
“What was it you wanted, Captain Montoya?”
“You were seen at the apartment of Alberto Rodriguez this morning at five forty. I would like to know why.”
Lila blinked. For a man so well informed, you’d think he’d have all of the details of the shooting, right down to the color of the murderer’s socks.
“You went by Rodriguez’s place this morning?” Travis snapped, giving her a serious WTF stare. “Are you crazy? You see a guy get shot dead, so the first thing you do is go to his apartment? Did you stop to consider for even a second that guys with guns might be hanging around there, waiting to grab you and throw you on a freaking boat?”
Spine stiffening as if covered in steel, Lila thrust out her chin and gave him the same look she gave every domineering ass she knew. An unwavering stare, one brow arched high and an ice-cold smile.
“No. Despite any possible mistakes I might have made trusting you, I am not crazy. And while I did witness a murder—” now she included Montoya in her chilly stare “—I did not go to his apartment.”
“You were seen.”
Lila planted her forearms on the table and leaned forward.
“The convenience store where I went to get aspirin is right next door to his apartment,” she said, biting off each syllable. “Which means I did nothing reckless or crazy. The only thing I can be accused of is having a headache.”
Travis’s narrow-eyed stare didn’t shift; neither did the cop’s. Despite Lila’s lifetime of experience with intimidation attempts, it wasn’t working this time. Because she had a big, bad SEAL by her side. So she simply folded her hands together on the table and widened her smile.
“What exactly is it that you’re accusing me of, Captain? Please, be specific so I can give all the details to my attorneys.” She named her father’s firm, not because she expected Montoya to recognize it, but simply because it sounded officious and arrogant.
She wasn’t surprised when Montoya broke under her smile. He didn’t drop his gaze, but he did tap his pen on the notepad a few times before saying, “You are accused of nothing, senorita. You are simply a witness, yes?”
“A witness to a crime you don’t believe happened?” Travis asked as he leaned back in his chair to rest one ankle on the opposite knee. Since the just-short-of-a-smirk look on his face was likely to piss the cop off, Lila leaned forward to get Montoya’s attention again.
“Look, Captain, why would I lie about witnessing a murder? And if I did, if I’d lied, would some creepy jerk have grabbed me this morning, tied me up and tossed me in a boat?”
Well, that got a blink out of him. Montoya pursed his lips and flipped to a clean notebook page.
“You claim that you were abducted this morning?”
Lila gritted her teeth.
There was that word again: claim.
“Given that I personally untied her from the boat she’d been hidden in, if I were you, I’d use a different word than claim,” Travis advised.
“Senorita Adrian is lucky to have you here to play hero, Senor Hawkins. Again.”
“Yeah. Just think, if I wasn’t here, she’d have to rely on the local police.” Travis didn’t bother smiling this time. He simply stared Montoya down until the policeman looked away.
“Mr. Hawkins has been a lot more helpful than the police,” she pointed out, leaning forward to get Montoya’s attention. She knew what Travis had said about reporting the abduction, but she had to try. “He helped me last night and saved me this morning.”
“Indeed?” His black eyes shifted from Lila to Travis and back again before Montoya flipped his notepad to a fresh page. “Please, give me the details.”
Lila filled him in.
She described the events of the morning, from the minute she’d left the hotel to the moment she’d returned. She skimmed over the terror, skipped her paranoid kidnapping for ransom theory and completely left out the back rub—and its stirring effect.
“I see.” Not taking notes now, Montoya just tapped a staccato beat on his notepad. “And yet you didn’t plan to file a police report of these alleged crimes?”
Alleged?
Lila tried to remember if she’d ever wanted to smack anyone as hard as she did this cop, but her mind was blank. Which she figured was the reason why she didn’t snap at Travis when he leaned in to take control of the conversation out of her hands.
“Why don’t you stop with assuming what Lila was or was not going to do, and do your job instead? Better yet, consider this your official report.” Travis gestured with one hand toward Lila. “Go ahead, do your job.”
Lila held her breath, waiting for Montoya to explode. Sure, he had cold eyes and the demeanor of an icebox, but that had to have pissed him off.
But instead of snapping, he simply inclined his head to one side, wet the tip of his pen with his tongue before placing it on a fresh page and said, “Let’s go over it all again, shall we?”
Just li
ke that? Lila blinked a couple of times, then went over it all again.
“And that’s when you ordered us into this restaurant, where we can smell the delicious scents of food but are not being allowed to order a single thing to eat,” she finished, shrugging as if none of it had mattered.
“Don’t forget the guy who checked you out of the hotel,” Travis said, watching Montoya like a suspicious hawk.
Lila bit her lip.
Since she was pretty sure her father was behind that little stunt, she wished Travis had left that part out. For the first time since Montoya had blown her off, she hoped he continued to dismiss facts as fiction.
Seeing the look on his face, pure disbelief, she almost sighed with relief.
“Yes, Senor Tomás mentioned that your bill was paid in full and your bags stored at the request of a gentleman he didn’t recognize. He said that at that time, he discovered that they were packed with the locks intact.”
“Does the hotel manager report to you?” Travis asked, giving the policeman a menacing scowl.
Ignoring it, Montoya flipped back through his notebook as if checking his snitch list before giving Lila another one of those tell-all-or-else looks.
“So what is your plan, might I ask? To run away after stirring trouble and starting false rumors?”
Weren’t all rumors false? Lila resisted the urge to ask. One smart-ass at the table was enough, and Travis had already claimed that role.
“Since my original plans were changed by a bullet, my new plan was to leave this morning. I had flight arrangements,” she said in the superior tone she’d learned from the mean girls at boarding school. “A flight I’ve now missed, thanks to that grabby jerk who tied me up on a boat. You know. The one you don’t believe exists.”
“There are no flights out of Puerto Viejo.”
“I flew into San José,” she pointed out. “I’d planned to fly out the same way.”
He gave her that dead-eyed stare for a solid thirty seconds.
“And how were you getting to the airport?”
Lila wet her lips. For the first time, she wished Travis were somewhere else. The only thing more embarrassing than a twenty-four-year-old woman being told what to do by her father was admitting how much money her family had. Especially when she obviously didn’t measure up.