by Alexia Adams
He’d changed out of his shredded suit and now wore a pair of dark jeans and a loose button-up shirt a few sizes too big. He was, of course, on his phone, but as soon as he caught sight of her, he ended the call with an “I’ve got to go. I’ll speak with you later. Text me when you have any information.”
She stepped onto the tiled terrace; the warmth of the sun-warmed flooring banished some of the chill from her bare feet. “Who were you talking to?”
Without asking, he handed her a drink. She didn’t even inquire what was in the tall glass with moisture condensing on the outside. A sip revealed a tangy lemonade with a kicker of vodka.
“A friend on the police force.”
“And?”
“Let me worry about it. You just relax.”
Forget tomorrow. She was taking the reins back now, with or without a plan.
She put the drink down on the glass table and went toe-to-toe with him. It wasn’t as intimidating a position as she’d hoped because she still had to stretch her neck to meet his gaze. And take a second breath because his nearness stole the first from her lungs. Still, she wasn’t going to stand in the wings while her life was on the line.
“I’m not a child, Eduardo. This involves me. I have a right to know what’s happening and who’s behind these incidents.”
He ran a shaky hand through his hair and retreated a step. “They’re still investigating the bombing. As for the fire, they found accelerant in the hotel suite, so it was definitely arson. But they don’t have a list of suspects yet, and therefore they don’t know whether flushing you out of your room was the motive or if someone had a grudge against the hotel. They’ve re-interviewed the kid who threw the firecracker into the community center. He said he was paid to do it, but he couldn’t provide a reliable description of the person who had hired him.”
She picked up her glass and took a long drink. To keep her eyes from devouring Eduardo, she wandered over to an arrangement of flowers tumbling from a cement urn. “I never imagined that Simon’s children would go to these lengths. Suing me is one thing. Trying to kill me…”
“You’re assuming that you are the target,” he said.
Her gaze snapped back to him. “Of course I’m the target. All three incidents involve me.”
“The first involved me too. And I had more to lose than you from the disruption of the meeting. The planners have put the application on hold. It’s costing me money each day we’re delayed.”
“But the fire—”
“You were booked into the hotel using my last name. Why, by the way?”
She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. Reminder for next time: never make a hotel reservation after a third lemon drop martini. “I always book into hotels with fake names. I didn’t bring security with me so I decided to use a common Argentine name to put off any followers. Yours was the first one that came to mind.” And let’s not analyze that.
“Forenza’s not that common.”
“Well, last time I used Eva Perón, and that was worse.”
He smiled, but there was still disbelief in his eyes. “Someone with your talents should have more imagination. And people to reserve hotels for you.”
“Yeah. Sometimes I like to do things for myself, just to prove I still can.”
He raised one eyebrow but only asked, “And the Mrs.? Why claim to be my wife?”
“I wasn’t claiming to be your wife.” Although she could see how he’d think that. “I was just…” There was no way to end that sentence without further incriminating herself. Caught up in nostalgia and vodka, she’d used a name that would have been hers if she’d made a different choice all those years ago.
He stared into her eyes for a few more seconds, and she could almost see the battle going on. Should he pursue this line of questioning, one that would undoubtedly lead to an agonizing rehash of the past? Or stick with the present issue? Thankfully, he chose the latter. “It doesn’t matter what name you used. I was seen dropping you off. Thankfully, the paparazzi who took the photo didn’t get a clean look at you, but it was still up on social media sites that I was at the hotel with a woman. And it was my car that was blown up at the church.”
Someone could be after Eduardo? Mierda, that did not make her feel better.
“Who would want you dead?”
His laugh held no humor. “More people than you can imagine. But off the top of my head, Miranda’s other uncle. I was instrumental in making sure that Tiago got custody of his niece, and as a result, he kept control of his company, which allowed me to become partner.”
“Seems a little extreme.”
“You don’t know Spencer Suarez. He’s insane. And he’s used explosives before. He blew out the windows of the building across from Tiago’s to trigger Vivi’s PTSD.” Anna had no idea who these people were, but now wasn’t the time to get distracted.
“And this Spencer Suarez is still in Buenos Aires?”
“Well, currently, he’s in prison somewhere in Argentina. But that wouldn’t stop him from getting someone on the outside to do his dirty work. He’s very resourceful.”
She swallowed that information with the rest of her drink. Her knees decided to confirm her earlier self-assessment and gave way. Thankfully, there was a sofa right behind her.
“I could also be the target.” Raul’s aggressive tone matched his clenched fists as he strode onto the terrace. “I caught sight of one of my old acquaintances when I parked the car this afternoon. He’d have had the skills and necessary equipment to blow the vehicle.”
Eduardo became alert, like a dog hearing the fridge door open. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”
Raul looked down for a moment then raised his eyes to Eduardo’s face and straightened his shoulders. “Because Timo was present. I’d rather he didn’t learn just yet that his father was once a drug dealer and gang enforcer.”
Eduardo nodded as though this wasn’t news to him. “Where is Timo now?”
“With the cook.” Raul’s face softened again. “They’re baking a cake. She promised him he could decorate it and we’d have it for dessert.”
Eduardo ran his hand again through his hair while he paced the terrace. “So any of the three of us could have been the target of the bombing.”
Anna’s first instinct was to soothe the anxiety on his face. She didn’t have the right. A nervous giggle escaped her. “Wow, we’re some badass group,” she said.
Both men turned and looked at her as though she were crazy. Finally, a smile tugged at Eduardo’s sensual lips. “I guess we are.”
Raul’s face still looked like thunder. “Boss, I’m sorry I put you and Señorita Marquez in danger. If you can look after Timo for a couple of days, I’ll go back to BA and sort this all out.”
“No.” Eduardo’s harsh reply made Anna jump.
Raul seemed unfazed. “Okay, I’ll take Timo with me. I’m sure I can find someone to watch him.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. You have to stay here. We all have to stay here. It’s time to let law enforcement figure this out.” Raul looked unconvinced, but Eduardo pressed on. “Besides, if whoever is behind all these attempts follows us to Mendoza, I may need you to get Anna and Timo to safety.”
“What if I left?” Anna asked. Again, both men raised their eyebrows. “I mean, what if I returned to America? I can rehire a security team, and my house is like a fortress. Simon was a bit paranoid.” If anything happened to anyone because of her, the guilt would eat her alive.
Eduardo took the seat beside her. His hand covered hers where it plucked at the fringes of a throw pillow. “Until we know who’s behind this, we all stay here. We’re safe. I’ve hired an elite team of former special ops commandos to keep the place secure.”
“Um, exactly what type of law have you been practicing?” Surely not every lawyer had mercenaries on speed dial. Then again, probably not many had a former drug dealer as a driver either.
“Tiago’s half brother’s half brother,
Jacques, has connections. Complicated family, but very useful.”
She nodded. Useful family was something she did not have. In fact, she had no one she could trust. Except the man sitting beside her.
Her life was in danger, but she was no longer terrified. Was it so wrong that she was secretly thrilled she wouldn’t be saying goodbye to Eduardo anytime soon?
Perhaps it was time to reattempt a seduction.
***
Beside him, Anna laced her fingers with his. Her anxiety flowed through that tight grip. Dios, he could have lost her today. Which was ridiculous, because he’d lost her long ago.
She appeared impossibly young in her borrowed clothes. The olive green gypsy skirt brushed the floor; her bare toes peeped beneath the voluminous material when she walked. The loose, cream-colored top hinted at the curves beneath but kept them thankfully concealed. She’d removed her makeup. She was back to the Anna he’d known long ago. But this Anna was no longer his.
Raul’s eyes focused on their entwined fingers before a small smile appeared. “I’d better go check on Timo. Knowing him, he’s charmed the cook into letting him make dinner.”
He should ask Raul to stay. Being alone with Anna was not a good idea. There was no telling what stupid declarations he’d make. Before he could form the words, however, his friend reentered the house.
He steeled himself to look at her. Her blue eyes were clouded, her teeth nibbling on her bottom lip. Ah, mierda…
He could be a brick wall tomorrow. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her tightly against his side.
Offering her comfort was simply him being a decent guy. It wouldn’t lead to more. A modicum of peace flowed through him. He needed it after a day where he’d been too close to the edge of sanity—too close to the edge of savagery. In the immediate aftermath of the explosion, he’d been willing, almost eager, to find the culprits and pound them into next week. He’d come to think of himself as suave and sophisticated. It’d taken only one blast to prove he was more like his impulsive father than he ever wanted to be.
He’d once thought that with Anna in his arms he could conquer the world. That same illusion flirted with his willpower now. But he was wiser. He hoped.
“How did you meet Raul?” She raised her face to his, and he saw determination in the depths of her eyes. A neutral topic of conversation would benefit them both.
“I met him in the courthouse. I’d just finished hammering out a temporary custody arrangement for Tiago’s niece when there was a disruption in the hallway. Raul was standing there, clutching a terrified Timo while a woman screamed obscenities and pounded him with her fists. He could have easily flattened her with one swing.” Eduardo’s father would have done it without another thought. “I admired Raul’s restraint.”
“Was the woman Timo’s mother? Raul told me that she’d abandoned them but was back now and suing for custody.”
“Yes. She’d just walked out one day, no note, leaving a one-year-old Timo in his cot until Raul came home later that evening to a screaming child. Then about six months ago, she showed up on the arm of someone high up in the gang Raul used to associate with. He worries that if Timo spends time with his mother, eventually he’ll end up in gang life. Not to mention his mother’s volatile personality being a concern. I…”
“You don’t want Timo to end up with an unstable woman if you can help it,” she finished for him. He nodded. Anna was the only person who knew the sorry tale of his childhood and youth. He didn’t talk about it with anyone. Not even Raul. It wasn’t because he was embarrassed about where he’d come from. In fact, he was proud of what he’d accomplished with nothing but hard work. It simply didn’t matter. He was no longer that person. But if he had his way, no other child would go through that either.
“Yes. Raul told me didn’t have the money to pay me. He didn’t even have employment, because no one wanted to hire an ex-con, especially one who had ties to one of BA’s most notorious gangs. So I offered him a job.”
“And a place to live?”
“That was a little later. Where they were living … it would have been too easy for Raul to fall back into his old habits. He had the strength to recognize his weakness, the lure of easy money when he was trying to rebuild his life for Timo’s sake. They stayed at my place for a week while he found a new apartment. I was gone for most of the time anyway. They could have stayed longer, but Raul isn’t keen on ‘charity.’ He wants to stand on his own two feet and provide for Timo honestly.”
“He’s doing an amazing job. Timo clearly loves him, and you. You’re very sweet with the little boy as well.”
Red flags waved furiously in his mind. They were not going there. Those dreams of a family with her were gone. Time to redirect the conversation.
“Tell me about your career. What is your favorite thing about being an international pop star?”
She shifted as though uncomfortable. He loosened his hold on her shoulder, but she only moved closer. “I wouldn’t say I’m a star…”
He brushed a few strands of her hair away from her cheek. It was like the softest silk slipping though his fingers. “You’re internationally known by one name. You’re a star.”
She shrugged, a faint blush staining her cheeks. “In my heart, I’m still just Anna Marquez. As for my career, I like writing songs the best. Well, usually. I’ve been struggling lately. I also enjoy performing. My least favorite things are marketing and probably recording—singing the same song over and over until the producer is happy. It’s exhausting.”
“And the travel?” They’d often spoken of the places they’d visit together. Another dream gone.
“It’s not like I imagined,” she said.
“Yeah, I’ve been on a few international business trips. I’m so exhausted after the meetings that I’ve no desire to visit the sites.”
“With me, it’s that I want to share the experience with someone who matters to me. Instead, it all turns into a big publicity event.”
“I guess that’s the price you pay for fame.”
She pulled out of his arms and stood before him, her hands stretched out as though pleading her case. “I never wanted to be famous, you know. I just wanted to sing and make people happy and maybe make a bit of money so I wouldn’t have to worry about becoming homeless.”
His shrug was more stiff than relaxed. “And you didn’t trust that I could provide that life for you.”
“Dios, Eduardo. Do you think I didn’t believe in you? I always knew you’d be a success—whether on the rugby field or in the world of business. You have the drive and the brains to do anything you want. When you got injured—”
“You left.”
“No! I saw another way for us both to have what we always wanted. I had a recording contract, a very good one. I could have supported you while you figured out your next steps. You could have stayed in rugby, trained to go into coaching or management. You loved the sport; I wanted to help you keep doing that. You could have recovered in LA while I recorded my album…”
It was the same tune as the argument they’d had over the phone while he’d waited for his surgery, just with different words.
“You know that never would have worked. I can never be a man who lives off a woman. You’d have lost respect for me. Hell, I’d have lost respect for myself. Then you would have left me anyway.” Ten years later, and the bitterness of her sudden departure still welled within him. The anger, the hopelessness, the feeling of unworthiness—all familiar acids dripping on his soul.
“Why? Because of your mother? I’m not her and never will be. I would never run off and abandon my husband and child.”
He stood as well, needing to move. “It was a risk I couldn’t take. The parallel between our romance and my parents’ marriage was too close to ignore. My father had been training to be a millwright, but he gave it up to follow my mother in her career. Then when I was born, his family pressured my mother to quit modeling, saying that children needed stability, needed t
o go to bed in the same room each night. Without a trade, Papa found it difficult to get work. Mama hated staying at home, living with nothing. Neither of them had ever been any good at saving money. She grew restless and left. And because my father had basically lived through her, he had nothing to fill the void. He crawled into a bottle and never escaped until he died—with a glass in one hand, my mother’s photo in the other.”
“I… I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would it have made a difference?”
She sighed. “I don’t know.”
“A lot of it I didn’t know myself until after Papa died and I went through his papers. Growing up, I knew my mother left, although I didn’t know why. But my father continually told me I had to be my own man, to make my own way in life, not to rely on anyone. Even without knowing the whole story, I saw how things had turned out for him, and I didn’t want to end up the same.”
“You wouldn’t have become him.”
But hadn’t he? He’d replaced dependence on alcohol with a business suit and lost himself in his career. When was the last time he’d had fun?
“I thought you’d come back,” he said, barely recognizing his own voice. “I worked and worked so I’d have something to prove to you I was worthy, that I was more than a failed athlete.”
“You were always worthy, Eduardo. You were everything to me. But that was also part of the problem. I had to have a life as well. If I hadn’t taken that chance, I think eventually I would have resented you for denying me my dream.”
Yeah, he could see that now. They’d been too focused on a perfect imaginary future to see that what they had then was worth fighting for. Unfortunately, he’d never been one to compromise, to deviate from a plan once formed.
Was he any different now? He still had plans; he’d mapped out his future. Anna wasn’t part of it.
Was he repeating the same mistake again?
Chapter Six
They say hindsight is twenty-twenty, but Anna still felt that any decision she made back then would have ended in heartbreak.