PaintedPassion

by Tamara Hunter

  “Wading. Not dunking in body first.” Melissa agreed.

  Trella laughed. “You don’t have to worry. I’d never date him.”

  Her friends exchanged glances.

  “Why not?” Melissa asked.

  “It’d be too weird. He’d remind me of Louis.” Plus, Carlos already had her feeling out of sorts, and all she’d done was see him nude.

  “I always thought…never mind.” Melissa glanced away.

  “What ‘never mind’?” Selina asked.

  “Remember the night we met Louis and Carlos?”

  Trella nodded. “Yeah, so?”

  Melissa blew out a breath. “I noticed Carlos’ face when he saw you. I always believed he was interested in you.”

  Selina nodded. “I thought I was the only one who picked up on his expression.” She shrugged. “But then, Louis was the one who approached our table first.”

  Trella cradled her mug between her hands. “I don’t remember it that way at all. Didn’t Carlos have like two or three women hanging on his arms?”

  Melissa nodded. “Yeah, when he finally joined us at the table he did, but I still thought—”

  Trella shook her head. “I’m not his type. All his women are tall and slim. Have you ever seen him with someone who doesn’t fit the mold?”

  “Hmm. You’re right. All his women do tend to look the same.” Selina glanced around the crowded room before leaning closer. “What did his body remind you of?”

  Hot, sweaty sex. Trella finished her drink. “A work of art. What else?”

  * * * * *

  As Miguel drove, Trella struggled to ignore images of a nude Carlos floating through her mind.

  “How far?” he asked.

  With a start, she realized he’d driven through the entrance to South Mountain Park and ascended the mountain. “I’ll let you know when I see the right spot.”

  He drove slowly, allowing her time to observe the scenery.

  “Pull over here.”

  Miguel eased to a stop at a lookout. Trella climbed from the car with her digital camera and clicked off several photos of the valley below.

  Satisfied, she returned to the car. Miguel continued up the winding road.

  Minutes later, she instructed him to pull over again. She snapped a couple more photos, angling the high-powered lens to obtain the shot. The heat invigorated her, making her feel one with nature. Catching sight of a large grouping of Saguaro Cacti, she immortalized it, taking several rapid photos.

  She returned to the car. “Take us higher.”

  “Don’t you have enough?”

  At the high tone of Miguel’s voice, she stared at him. Sweat trickled down his face. He wiped it with a tissue.

  “You okay?”

  He opened the window. “I have a slight fear of heights,” he squeaked out in a breathy, shaking voice.

  “How slight?”

  He squeezed his eyes shut then opened them before answering. “About several hundred feet back.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  Trella jumped out. She ran around the car and yanked open the driver’s door, motioning for Miguel to exit. He nodded his acquiescence but his hands remained glued to the steering wheel. After several tries, she was able to loosen his grip.

  She helped him from the car. They made their way slowly to the passenger’s side. She buckled him into the seat. Returning to the driver’s side, she secured herself.

  Driving down the narrow, winding road, Trella rambled about the upcoming art show to keep his mind off the fact they traveled on the outer edge of the road. A black SUV appeared behind them in the rearview mirror. They hugged a corner. The vehicle remained tight on their tail.

  Sweat trickled between her breasts. Miguel trembled as he clutched the door handle. At the next lookout point, Trella eased the car off the road. The large vehicle filled with teenagers roared by. She exhaled loudly.

  Miguel’s shirt was drenched. “I…I’ll be fine. I think.”

  Seeing no other traffic, Trella returned the car to the road. In moments, they exited the park. Despite what he’d said, she didn’t think he felt fine at all. Trella weaved through traffic toward the nearest hospital. She screeched to a halt in front of the emergency entrance. She was out of the car as soon as she’d put the gear in park.

  “I think he’s having a heart attack!”

  Two attendants rushed Miguel inside, as Trella quickly dialed Carlos. Reaching his voicemail, she left a message before proceeding to the admissions desk.

  After completing the forms, she paced the floor. Miguel had to pull through. If he didn’t, it was her fault.

  An hour later, a middle-aged, gray-haired doctor, accompanied by a perky blond nurse, approached her with Miguel between them.

  “It wasn’t a heart attack. Big man here had a panic attack.”

  A rush of relief ran through her, and she sank onto a plastic chair in the waiting area. “Thank God.”

  “He’ll be fine, but he needs rest. His blood pressure’s elevated. I want him to see his regular doctor as soon as possible.” The physician handed Trella a slip of paper. “I’ve prescribed a temporary supply of pills to lower his pressure. Make sure he takes one a day. But until he sees his doctor and receives a clean bill of health, I don’t want him working.”

  Miguel said nothing, but a look of disappointment crossed his face.

  She slipped her hand around his arm. “I’ll make sure he schedules an appointment.”

  After securing Miguel’s release, Trella led him outside to the parking lot. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Not your fault.” He settled onto the backseat.

  Whatever medication he’d been given made him sleepy. His lids closed before she exited the lot. After filling his prescription at a nearby drugstore, Trella drove straight home, not surprised to discover Miguel still asleep when she pulled into the garage. He woke to make it into the casita. She helped him get comfortable before trying Carlos’ cell again. When he didn’t answer, she left a message updating him on Miguel’s condition.

  She spied the electronic security system installed in the mudroom. Surely, Carlos hadn’t headed back to Vegas without saying goodbye. She changed her clothes then began preparing dinner, all the while trying to convince herself the restlessness strumming through her was not due to worry over Carlos’ whereabouts.

  * * * * *

  After visiting with his aunt and assuring her Miguel would follow the doctor’s orders, Carlos returned to Trella’s.

  She opened the door dressed in a caftan, the flowing, silky material close in color to the cinnamon-brown hue of her skin. At first glance, it appeared she wore nothing at all.

  He climbed from the vehicle. Yeah, he had to leave this place. This woman was nothing short of an addiction.

  He followed her inside. “How’s Miguel?”

  “Resting. He’s grumpy because I refuse to allow him to eat junk food.”

  He closed the door and locked it. “After I received your message, I checked on Miguel’s mother. She insisted on making him an appointment with her doctor.”

  Trella breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I was concerned when I didn’t hear from you.”

  “Sorry, I should’ve let you know my whereabouts.” Damn, man, when have you ever let a female keep you on a leash?

  “Thanks for having the cameras installed.”

  “Come up with a password, and we’ll take the system live.”

  Nodding, she worried her bottom lip. “Um, about this morning—”

  “Forget it.”

  “I just think—”

  “Estrella, let it go.”

  She gasped. “You haven’t called me by my formal name since…”

  The night we met. He finished the sentence in his mind. “I know.” Her intoxicating eyes drew him in, making him want to release every secret he held. Just as they had that night.

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Wanted to get your attention.” />
  She blinked. “Oh.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed by what happened. It didn’t mean anything.”

  She shrugged, avoiding looking at him. “We’re on the same page then.”

  He folded his arms in front of his chest, not liking her flippant attitude. “Did you read the instructions on how to access the cameras on your laptop?”

  She nodded. “Are you heading back to Vegas tonight?”

  As fast as I can. “Yes. If you don’t mind, I’ll need you to email me the file of Louis’ notes. I can follow up from home.”

  “No problem.”

  “I’ll check on Miguel, then I’ll be ready to leave.”

  “Holler at me before you do.”

  She glided through the patio doors, the caftan billowing out with every step. The side splits offered peeks of bare, toned legs, and he wondered what she wore beneath it.

  Yes, Sister Mary Frances, I’m still in hell.

  Chapter Five

  Carlos knocked then opened the door to the guest casita. Miguel sat on a black leather recliner with his feet propped on an ottoman while he watched an episode of Bonanza.

  Carlos closed the door. “Hear your love of food finally caught up with you.”

  His cousin nodded. “Funny.”

  “Tia Elena said she intends to check on you every day.”

  Miguel smirked. “She already made an appointment for me for tomorrow.”

  “Let me know how it goes. I’ll be back in Vegas by midnight.”

  His cousin’s brows shot upward. “Have you forgotten you’re Trella’s bodyguard now? Until I receive the green light to work, someone has to look out for her.”

  Carlos grabbed the remote, muting the TV as the truth of Miguel’s statement reverberated through him. “Damn, I hadn’t considered what your being out of commission meant.”

  Miguel folded his arms behind his head. “You two around each other. All day every day.”

  Each breath Carlos dragged into his lungs did nothing to dispel the rising tide of tension. His mind replayed the scene of Trella walking in on him. Being with her constantly meant smelling her provocative scent and watching her body’s every seductive move.

  Dios! How long would he last without tasting her? He rubbed his hand down his face, knowing Miguel enjoyed his discomfort. “Where did you have the panic attack?”

  “South Mountain. Damn fear of heights, man. I was fine at the Gallery, the café and City Hall.”

  Carlos latched onto his words. “Why the stop at City Hall?” he asked but feared he already knew the answer.

  Miguel stretched. “To thank dude for the flowers, I guess. I waited outside in the car. She wasn’t inside for long.”

  Red-hot fury rolled through him, and he dashed from the room before Miguel finished speaking. Obviously, Trella had no intention of mentioning the clandestine visit. He stalked along the hallway, struggling to summon calm.

  On the patio, Trella lay on a lounger, watching the newscast. Because Louis had loved watching sports and barbecuing, a flat-screen television was mounted on the wall beneath the covered patio.

  Carlos stood in the doorway, determined not to allow his desire to deter him from questioning her.

  “Miguel’s fine. What did you two do today?”

  She didn’t look in his direction. “Ran some errands. Talked at length with Francois about the gallery showing.”

  “Why the stop at City Hall?” He blurted the question, praying she’d reveal a valid reason.

  “I wanted to thank Hector for the flowers.”

  “Did you discuss anything else?”

  She stiffened, and seconds ticked by before she answered. “I figured Hector might be more forthcoming with information about the IWP if I showed up announced.”

  This sane woman had lost her damn mind. He glared at her. “Hector’s work program might be a cover for human smuggling.”

  She shifted, staring at him in a wild-eyed daze, any interest in the news dissipated.

  “Through your impulsive act, you tipped your hand by letting him know you’re questioning the program.” Carlos paced, refusing to sift through the wave of emotions battering him all at once. “If you weren’t in danger before, you are now.”

  She straightened to a sitting position. Surprise, anger and fright warred for dominance on her face. “I wasn’t thinking,” she whispered. She swung her feet to the ground.

  Folding his arms in front of his chest, he stopped in front of her. “I’m moving in.”

  She shook her head. “No way, Carlos. Two bodyguards? It’s crazy.”

  “Not two. Just me until Miguel is cleared to work. You and I are traveling to Vegas in the morning. I need to check on a few clients, and I’ll need more clothing.”

  She pinned him with a hard look. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “Maybe not, but I need to know you’re safe.” He kept his voice low and controlled. “I’m not giving in. Quit acting stubborn.”

  “Melissa and Selina—”

  “Wouldn’t provide much help if Hector makes a move on you, and I don’t want you involving them. The fewer people who know, the better.”

  Her breasts rose and fell with each deep breath. He gritted his teeth, fighting to keep his gaze from wandering below her neck.

  “You couldn’t ask if this is something I want?”

  Her question pried the edge off the lid containing his temper. “I don’t care what you want, Trella. We will be inseparable, understand?” He leaned down and his nostrils flared as he placed his hands on the lounger’s armrests, bracketing her within the space he created. “Random cars drive to your home at all hours of the night, you receive hang-up calls, and someone shot your husband. And all those events just might be related. My cousin lives here with you. This isn’t just about you and your precious wants. You can tolerate inconvenience,” he uttered in a low voice.

  Straightening, Carlos drew in a breath. “Trust me—living here is the last thing I want.”

  He saw the flash of hurt in her eyes before she rose. She marched to the stone steps leading to the terrace.

  “Louis didn’t marry a fragile female.” She turned to face him, a determined look on her face. “I can take care of myself.”

  His anger disappeared in a flash. With her hair loose around her shoulders, she was a goddess, proud and fearless. Raw need surged through him at the sexy picture she presented.

  He pulled his mind back to the matter at hand. “I know you can handle yourself, but this is business. You’ve placed yourself in the middle of a profitable organization. If Louis’ death was in any way connected to it, whoever shot a detective won’t think twice at the prospect of cancelling your existence.”

  Drawn to her magnetic presence, he stopped when he stood in front of her. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” His voice softened. He touched her hair, the silken strands slipping over his fingers. “I want you out of harm’s way.”

  She poked the middle of his chest with her index finger. “I want you safe, as well. Because here’s a newsflash, Mr. I-can-take-care-of-you, if our esteemed councilman believes Louis shared what he knew, then Hector’s not just coming after me, Carlos. He’s coming after both of us,” she whispered.

  Her luminous eyes searched his as if seeking reassurance. “I’m not a damsel in distress,” she muttered.

  He cradled her face in his hands. “Far from it.” He touched his lips to the space between her arched eyebrows. The kiss was meant to be comforting, but as soon as his mouth made contact with her soft skin, his body’s wiring sputtered from shock.

  “I know you’re strong, but we have to be smart.” Incapable of avoiding her heat, he kissed the bridge of her nose. He needed to stop before he did something he couldn’t take back.

  Her fingers entwined with his. “Hector won’t get away with this.”

  He kissed her right temple. “I agree.”

  “We’ll take him down and anyone working for him, too.”

>   Her words, uttered without an ounce of mercy, fueled his arousal. Carlos was beyond ready to be turned out, burned and fried by the release of her passion. He kissed her left cheek. “He’ll have no idea what hit him.”

  “We’ll nail his ass to the wall.”

  He wanted, no needed to taste her. “No one pisses off my girl,” he whispered. He didn’t know when he began thinking of her in such a manner.

  He touched his lips to hers, his entire being fusing with the spirit of this amazing woman. He didn’t bother fighting what he’d wanted to do since he’d arrived yesterday. He nibbled at her softness, wishing he were feasting on every inch of her.

  She tensed for a second then relaxed as her mouth moved against his. She parted her lips, permitting him entrance.

  He groaned at her submission. She tasted of citrus fruit, juicy and luscious. The patio, the pool, the night—everything around them disappeared, leaving him aware of nothing but her. Their tongues touched and met, and the softness of hers, sliding over his, triggered an erection that spurred him on.

  He moved his hands to her waist, lifting her off the ground, their bodies melding, pelvis to pelvis. Ever since he saw her again, kissing her had been in the back of his mind. Being around each other, it was bound to happen sooner or later. He much preferred sooner.

  He wanted to carry her upstairs, but the timing was wrong. He didn’t care if she kissed him out of shock. He’d take her lips on his for any reason.

  She moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands roamed her back, pulling her closer still. But it wasn’t enough. He rubbed his pelvis against hers, and she gasped in response.

  As if the feel of his erection shocked her into awareness, she pulled away, lips plump from his kiss. He groaned, realizing there would be no complete satisfaction tonight.

  She rubbed her palms down his chest, lips parted as if waiting for him to take them again. He kept his hands on her waist, as much to touch her as to provide an anchor for him.

  “Do something for me.”

  The air brushed against him, warm but not as hot as Trella’s body. He didn’t care what she wanted. He’d willingly give her whatever she needed. “Name it,” he ground out, ready to put the world at her feet.