by Elisabeth Naughton, Cynthia Eden, Katie Reus, Alexandra Ivy, Laura Wright, Joan Swan
Her nails scraped his scalp. She couldn’t keep her hips from rocking against him. Oh Lord, she’d never felt anything so good. Rio’s fingers dug into the flesh of her ass. He lifted her and made…some amazing move with his hips. Strong. Suggestive. Erotic. Cassie fisted the fingers in his hair. A high-pitched sound she’d never heard came from her throat.
Rio broke their kiss as if he’d been ripped from a trance. He pulled back, putting an inch of space between them.
“Oh my God. Don’t stop.” As soon as she’d said it, a heat wave rushed her. But she wouldn’t take it back. She didn’t want him to stop.
Rio tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and planted one hand flat on the brick wall behind her. After a few quick breaths, he took his other hand from her ass and put it against the wall too.
The absence of his touch, allowed the cool bite of air all along her skin. Though that did little to clear the haze from her mind. And her body was still in another place. Someplace it had only ever imagined being.
“I can’t even believe…” He was still breathing hard and fast. “What I would give my right arm…to do to you right now. Like—right here, right now.”
God, yes. His words only added fuel to the inferno. Cassie’s brain was still buzzing and languid. And so freaking stupid. She knew it was a bad idea. Knew they shouldn’t. Knew she’d probably regret it. But the need was so overwhelming…
She brushed her hand over his jaw. “Let’s go back to the estate—”
He grabbed her hand and took a deliberate step away. His gaze was clearer now, and the man she knew from the cemetery looked back at her. The real man, not Saul’s employee. But he wasn’t happy, which gave Cassie a warning to put up a couple of defensive walls—only, she couldn’t manage it in this altered state.
“Damn,” he said, “you’re irresistible.”
She smiled. “I try.”
“You don’t have to try.” He pulled her hand to his mouth for a kiss. “But we can’t do this again.”
He picked up both bags of food, cradled them in one arm, and used the other to drag her from the doorway. Once on the street, he dropped her hand and strode up the sidewalk like the last few minutes of nirvana had been just another fragment of her fantasy life. For a confusing few seconds, she looked between the alcove and Rio’s retreating back.
“Hey.” She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say, because her brain hadn’t fully come back online. But when Rio turned around to look at her with that irritated what? expression, words just poured. “You can’t… You can’t just…do that.”
Good God, she sounded like a four-year-old. Worse, she felt like a four-year-old, one who’d just been given her heart’s desire for Christmas and then had the gift torn away. She gestured at the alcove, trying to stand bold against the hurt of another rejection in the immediate wake of such bliss.
“You can’t just…” …start that and not finish it. Hell, that might be what her body wanted to say, but her mind wasn’t anywhere near ready to make that leap, which made her feel foolish and conflicted and angry, and she ended up just saying, “Shit.”
He walked back toward her, a light of alarm in his eyes. But not because she was upset. His darting gaze told her he was concerned others might hear.
Because, of course, Saul had spies everywhere.
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
Chapter Seven
When Rio reached her, his expression was a mix of regret and frustration. “Cassie, be realistic.”
“You damn coward.” She huffed a laugh, pure disgust and disappointment. “The first man I’ve been interested in for…eons, and I have to pick a coward who can’t stand up to Saul.”
That mask slid over Rio’s face, and he instantly turned into Saul’s employee. “I told you last night—”
“Yes. You did. And you just told me again. I’ve got the message, Rio.”
She pulled the lunch bags from his arms. He let them go, but a flash of regret darkened his face before he wiped it away with both hands, then threaded his fingers into his hair.
Cassie knew where this would end. No one ever stood up to Saul. Not his son, Santos. Not her mother. No employee. Not even politicians or cops. Looked like that wouldn’t change.
“Cassie—” His plea tore at her heart.
“No.” Her voice came out in the cold, final tone she used in the ER to end a patient’s irrational argument. “I get it. Believe me, I get it. I’ve spent a decade getting it, Rio. You’re just like everyone else in this town.”
She walked past him, dodging his grasp when he reached for her. He caught up with her quick enough, and Cassie pulled on that film of armor she felt she wore all the time. In the ER. In her personal life. For once—once—she thought she’d found a place she could let it down. A sudden, deep resurgence of loneliness hit her.
“You know this is complicated,” he said, his voice a low rumble of frustration. “Your safety is more important than great sex.”
She stopped and turned on him. “Last night it was about your loyalty to Saul. Now it’s about my safety? You can’t make up your mind about anything. But you sure as hell know there’s more between us than a desire for sex. We could both get that anywhere we wanted, anytime we wanted.”
That shut him up. He closed his mouth, shoved his hands into his pockets, and looked at the ground. Which made everything ten times worse. Maybe if he’d laughed in her face and told her she was just another piece of ass, she could hate him.
“God.” The word came out brittle and disillusioned. “I didn’t think I could ever hate Saul more than I did when I left that house for college.” She turned away from Rio. “But I do right now.”
They walked in silence for a few blocks until he pulled gently on her arm several yards from the clinic’s steps. He stood close, looking down at her, and Cassie’s heart felt impossibly heavy.
“See those two guys standing on the northeast street corner?” he said.
She glanced that way, spotted the young men loitering at the street sign, and said, “So.”
“Muertos members.”
She started to roll her eyes, but Rio took her by the arms in a solid hold.
“Two weeks ago, Muertos slaughtered two dozen Diablos. They piled the bodies of the men with their throats cut into generic white vans and parked them at the pier—a message that the Muertos own the drug business at the docks.”
“Listen to what you’re saying, Rio – Muertos killed Diablos – not random civilians on the street.” She wasn’t brushing off his statement. She’d been keeping track of that incident through the papers since it’d happened and knew that every detail he was telling her was true. But he also needed to put it in perspective.
“Cassie.” The intimate way he said her name tightened her stomach. “There is a very real threat here.”
“I told you—I know that. There are a lot of threats here. Saul is a threat. Whoever killed Mamà and Santos is a threat. You’re a threat. They’re a—“
“I’m no threat to you, and no one killed Alejandra and Santos. It was just an accident. A gas leak caused an explosion. It’s not exactly common, but it’s not uncommon either. It happens.”
Pain expanded like a bubble. “If it was that simple, the case would be closed. But it’s not. It’s stalled. And the cops are stonewalling me.”
He heaved a breath and glanced at the Muertos again before returning his attention to her. “There’s a time to move on, or your life stops. Alejandra wouldn’t have wanted that for you. Neither would Santos. They both loved you, were proud of you. They would want you to be happy.”
“How do you know all this? How were you so close to them without me knowing about you?”
Rio shook his head and turned her toward the clinic steps. “I wouldn’t know. Maybe they thought of me as the help, just like Saul does.”
She yanked her arm away. “They weren’t like that.”
“Lock the door when you get inside.” He crossed the street, then climbed
into the truck from Terra del Mar.
Cassie’s whole body throbbed. Rio had left her wanting. Craving. Thoughts of her family left her barren. With the exception of marrying Saul, her mother had spent her life dedicated to Cassie’s happiness, including endless attempts to smooth the choppy waters between herself and her stepfather. Santos, nothing like his father, had offered endless support in whatever her goals had been.
From the cab of the truck, Rio stabbed a finger toward the clinic doors, silently ordering her inside. She turned and entered the clinic. Only then did Rio swing a U-turn and head back toward the freeway, with his phone already at his ear.
Better, she told herself. Rio wasn’t the man for her after all. Great looking, sexy as hell, awesome kisser with magical chemistry aside…other than an obvious desire for sex, they wanted very different things.
She forced her mind off the disappointment and on to one of the other main reasons she’d returned—her mother’s clinic.
“Cassie!” Her cousin appeared in the foyer, her velvety brown eyes big with surprise. “You’re early. You said you weren’t coming for another two weeks. Why didn’t you tell me…? I’m still… I was going to…” She exhaled a rough breath and crossed her arms. “Dammit.”
Cassie laughed. A real laugh. The first one in…she honestly couldn’t remember how long. Her heart eased as she savored the release. She’d been tortured by stress and sorrow, loneliness and loss for too long.
“Well, that’s a hell of a greeting.” She shrugged and looked down into the bags. “I could just take Miguel’s delicacies back to the—”
“Don’t you dare.” Nina pulled her into an awkward hug, the warm bags of food crushed between them. “Father Toto would assign tres rosarios for that kind of threat.”
Cassie laughed again, but this time a wave of tears tagged along—sadness for all that she’d lost, gratitude for all she still had, relief she could finally embrace it all. She sniffed them back and took her first long look at her cousin in at least a year. Cassie had seen her at the funerals, but that day, that week, hell, her whole life since then seemed like a blur.
Now, Nina’s smile could have lit up an operating room. Her face so young and fresh and innocent, filled with dreams of the future, hopes for love and friendship and success, just as Cassie’s had once been. And her cousin’s slim frame had developed a few new curves even the ordinary jeans and T-shirt didn’t hide.
The seriousness in Rio’s gaze replayed in Cassie’s mind.
“I lucked out of the last couple weeks of resident duty.” She turned and peered out the glass, skipping the whole “my boss put me on leave” explanation. The two men on the corner had multiplied into four. “Nina, you should lock this door.”
“The contractor and his men are here. They’re working, and they’ve been going in and out all day.” Nina took a bag from Cassie’s arms, unfolded the top, and inhaled. “Oh my God, this smells heavenly.”
With an uneasy eye on the gang members, Cassie wrapped an arm around Nina’s shoulders and stepped deeper into the clinic. They both set the bags on the counter. The scent of freshly cut wood filled Cassie’s head and made her smile. She stared up at the high ceilings, where clerestory windows brought in afternoon sunlight. The entire space remained bare studs, but she could imagine the waiting room filled with comfortable chairs and warm carpeting. She’d make sure there were lots of books and toys and even an aquarium to soothe stressed patients as they waited.
“Oh, Nina. This will be so beautiful. You’re using local suppliers and workers, right?”
“Sí, sí.” Nina rolled her eyes. “You’ve told me a hundred times.”
Cassie turned in a circle to view the unfinished room. “Mamá would be so pleased.”
Nina’s smile turned sad. “Sì.”
A familiar ache replaced Cassie’s excitement. “Okay, I want the quick tour so we can eat.”
Nina led her through the clinic, posture proud, hands gesturing as she spoke. Cassie found it hard to believe her cousin had just turned twenty-one, but the girl had always had a maturity about her, a strength and sassiness that gave her the enviable gift of confidence.
“The plumbing and electrical are in,” Nina said, “and the drywall men will be here for the next few days.”
By the time they’d wandered through the five exam rooms, lab area, and file room, the construction crew trailed in and out like ants. Two by two, men carried drywall into the clinic, and Cassie felt marginally better about safety with so many men around Nina all day.
They were standing behind the makeshift reception desk of sawhorses and plywood, unpacking lunch, when a young man, twenty-five, maybe twenty-six, walked in. He wore a fully loaded leather tool belt and carried a five-gallon bucket of supplies. His rich, dark gaze fell on Nina, and his face brightened into a wide grin. Nina smiled back, her cheeks flushing hot.
Cassie took another look at the young man, and instead of seeing an industrious carpenter, she saw a predator, someone waiting to take advantage of Nina’s naivety, just as Sharpe had taken advantage of Cassie’s.
Logically, the comparison was irrational, she knew. But she also knew fear wasn’t about logic; it was about emotion.
She took a deep draw of air, forced the unfounded doubts to the background, and offered her hand. “I’m Cassie Christo.”
Nina and the man turned in unison with infatuation lingering in their eyes. The purity of their obvious affection, the simplicity of their circumstances made an unexpected envy stir. She could still taste Rio’s kiss, so very complicated, even tainted, with Saul’s presence.
The contractor took Cassie’s hand. His was large, warm, and rough with calluses. “Raymie Solana. I own Solana Construction.”
“Oh, really?” Cassie relaxed with the strength of his grip and the directness of his gaze. She grinned at Nina, who looked away and turned a deeper shade of red. “Nice to meet you,” she said to Raymie. “You’re doing a beautiful job on the clinic. Nina’s told me what a fantastic replacement you’ve been since we lost our other contractor.”
His smile was warm, teeth white, his forehead partially covered by a wave of dark hair. “We aim to please.”
His light Spanish accent and use of the idiom made her curious. “You sound American.”
“I’ve spent some time in the States.” He eyed the containers of food spread out on the plywood. “Hard to imagine you two are this hungry.”
“Cassie brought lunch for everyone. From Miguel’s.”
Raymie’s smile shifted from Nina to Cassie. “I think you’re my new favorite boss.”
“Hey.” Nina jabbed her knuckles into his shoulder with a playful warning look.
Raymie winced and laughed, rubbing the spot. “Just kidding, chica. No one could replace you.”
When Raymie disappeared into the last exam room, Cassie turned back to Nina. “What was that?”
Nina focused on lunch. “He’s a very hard worker. His crew has done twice as much work as the other contractor in the same amount of time. Sometimes he comes in on the weekends without his men, you know, to get things finished. He’s working off a bid, so he’s not getting paid any more to come in on his days off.”
“He obviously has other incentive.” Cassie purposely let the innuendo lie heavily in her voice.
Nina gasped and looked up. “Cassie.”
Cassie feigned playful shock and imitated her cousin’s chastising tone. “Nina.”
A smile teased Nina’s lips, and she lowered her voice when she warned, “Stop it.”
“Oh, look,” Cassie teased, “your cheeks completely skipped magenta and went straight to something that looks a lot like raspberry.”
“Cassie!”
Cassie laughed. It felt good. It felt light and normal and easy, the way life was supposed to be. But Cassie had definitely missed that memo. And while it seemed awfully late to be getting the message now, after all she’d been through, she knew, ultimately, that was what she wanted for her life.
“I’ve never seen you so shy,” she said.
Nina’s dark eyes challenged Cassie, but she couldn’t hold the serious expression and turned embarrassed again. “I’m not shy. I’m just…he’s so… I get so weird around him. My brain goes fuzzy, my tongue doesn’t work…”
Cassie’s smile softened, right along with her heart. How could she still be such a sucker for romance? Especially after what Rio had just pulled?
She drew a deep breath and reminded herself that Raymie was not Rio. “Crazy about him, huh?”
Nina lingered in denial a moment longer before her shoulders dropped and her face exploded into a giddy grin. “Really crazy.”
Chapter Eight
“She knows something.” Saul stood in front of the living room windows, a glass of whiskey in one hand, a stout cigar in the other, its endless toggle signaling his rising agitation.
Rio sank onto the leather sofa. Hell, yes, she knew something. She knew how to kiss. She knew how to make him forget his own name. She knew how to make him contemplate—actually consider—doing things he had no business even fantasizing about in this situation.
The sea outside had grown angry in the last few hours, and thick, gray clouds hung swollen over the steel water and gathering whitecaps, which went right along with Rio’s piss-poor mood.
“She doesn’t know anything,” Rio said. “She’s simply trying to find a way to irritate you. If you ignore her, she’ll get bored.”
“Sounds like something’s gotten under your skin today, amigo.” Saul took a long pull on the cigar. The gray tip flared to orange and reflected in the window like a beacon from a ship out at sea. “If it were any other woman, I’d agree, she’s playing games, but not this one. She wouldn’t have been down at the marina today unless she suspected.”