It was his turn to look away but just before he did she saw a whisper of something dark, something painful in his eyes. She held her breath, sensing that she was about to learn something about the forces that drove him, the kind of man he was.
“I thought I had my life all mapped out when I was twenty-two years old. I was going to graduate, then join the police academy. Eventually I’d marry and have a couple of kids, live the American Dream as an officer of the law. Then my parents died in a plane crash.”
He paused a moment, swallowed once…twice, then continued. “Their deaths hit me hard. We’d been a close-knit family. My younger brother, Seth, and I took care of all the details, I finished school and life went on…until five months later when my brother was killed in a convenience-store robbery.”
Chantal sucked in her breath, her heart aching with the weight of his tragedy. She wanted to touch him, to take his hand or stroke his face, to offer some sort of human touch to ease the pain she felt emanating from him. But before she could, he stood abruptly and threw his empty water bottle into a trash can nearby.
When he returned to the bench his brow was smooth and there was no hint of turmoil in his eyes. “Anyway, I didn’t handle things well. I started drinking too much and drifted from place to place. If I felt myself getting too close to anyone or too comfortable in any one place, I moved on.”
He stood once again. “And speaking of moving on, maybe we should check out the beach and see if Willowby is a sand-and-surf kind of guy.”
As they walked toward the beachfront, although Chantal kept her gaze on the people around them, her thoughts were on the man beside her.
That little glimpse into Luke’s past, into his pain, had been dangerous, because the last thing she wanted was to care about Crazy Luke Coleman.
Chapter 11
The Mi Casa nightclub was already hopping when Chantal and Luke arrived at ten o’clock that evening. They’d spent the rest of the afternoon on the most populated area of the beach, checking out the people, flashing Willowby’s picture and coming up empty.
They’d returned to the hotel, showered and changed, then eaten in one of the restaurants nearby that had a reputation for fine dining.
After dinner they’d gone to several lounges, ordering a single drink, checking out the people inside, then moving on to the next one until it was time for the nightclubs to come alive.
If the waiters and waitresses hadn’t been clad in tight black toreador pants, white shirts and little matador hats, the Mi Casa club would have looked like any other in the United States.
Luke led her to a small empty table near the dance floor. They sat down across from each other and a waitress immediately appeared to take their drink orders.
The large dance floor made it impossible for them to see who might be gyrating on the other side, and before the waitress reappeared with their drinks, Luke got up, pulled Chantal to her feet and gestured toward the dance area.
Chantal loved to dance, but was often dismayed at her partners’ lack of rhythm or lack of grace on the dance floor. It was amazing how many good-looking, physically fit men couldn’t dance.
She half hoped Luke had two left feet, that he was one of those fools who got on the dance floor and seemed to lose all control of their limbs. She figured that if he were pathetically bad at dancing it would dissipate some of the underlying desire that thrummed in her veins for him.
Unfortunately, he danced as well as he seemed to do everything else. He moved with perfect rhythm, perfect control—and a fire ignited deep in the pit of her stomach.
She averted her gaze from her dance partner and instead searched the dance floor for their quarry. She had to keep her mind focused on Belinda and on Willowby.
When the music slowed, she found herself in Luke’s arms, his body tight against hers and the fire inside her flamed hotter.
“I don’t think he’s here,” she said, hoping it was the last fast dance that had made her breathless and nothing more.
“Maybe it’s too early. We need to hang around for a while. This is supposed to be the hottest night spot in Tamillo.”
It was hot all right. His smell was hot, the solidness of his chest against hers was hot and the gleam in his dark eyes as he pulled her more tightly against him was hotter than anything she could ever remember experiencing.
She wished he hadn’t told her he wanted her, for the knowledge now whispered in her mind with tantalizing seduction.
The minute the dance was over she excused herself to go to the restroom. She needed some distance from Luke, a moment to regroup.
She stood at the sink and dampened a paper towel, then ran it across her forehead and down her neck. When she’d agreed to work with Luke she hadn’t known that their partnership would suddenly become complicated by desire.
She ran a brush through her brown hair, reapplied a layer of lipstick, then left the restroom. This wasn’t the case of what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. If she had sex with Luke here in Mexico, she would have to face him once again when she returned to her life in the States.
When she returned to the table she’d made up her mind that no matter how good he was at his game of seduction, she had to be better at rejecting his advances.
The night seemed interminably long. Even though they stayed until just after midnight, she refused to dance any more with him. Instead they sat at the table and stared at the people who came and went until finally agreeing to give up and go back to the hotel.
“Maybe he’s not here,” Chantal said dispiritedly when they were in the back of a cab headed back to the hotel. “Maybe while we’re spinning our wheels here in Tamillo some other bounty hunter is closing in on him in another Mexican town.”
Luke shifted positions, his thigh pressed warmly against hers. “We’ve only been at it a day. I’d say a little patience is in order.”
She sighed. “I know. I’m just eager to get this over with and get back to the States.”
He leaned closer to her and took her hand. “What’s wrong, darling? Not enjoying our honeymoon?”
She snatched her hand from his, amazed that merely his touch had quickened her heart. She was tired and she knew she was getting cranky. “You’ve got to stop it, Luke. You’re distracting me from the real reason I’m here.”
His eyes held a dark hunger. “You find me a distraction? Good. Because I’ve been distracted all night long by how that little black dress hugs your body, by how you smell and by how you felt in my arms when we slow-danced.”
His words momentarily stopped her breathing. For a brief moment she wanted to just say screw it, pull up her dress and climb onto his lap. She wanted to end the wanting and just have mindless hot sex with Luke Coleman.
He must have seen something in her eyes, for he groaned as if in anticipation but at that moment the cab pulled up in front of the hotel.
She released a shuddering sigh as Luke cursed softly beneath his breath. He paid the cab driver and together they walked toward the lobby without speaking. The insanity of that single moment was lost and wouldn’t be reclaimed.
When they reached the room he went directly to the mini bar. “Want a nightcap?” he asked.
“No, thanks. I’m exhausted. I just want to go to sleep.” She disappeared into the bathroom to change out of her clothes and wash her face.
She didn’t know what was stopping her from simply indulging in a lusty bout of lovemaking with Luke. Certainly she’d had uncomplicated, uncommitted sex before, although not often.
Why was he different? She didn’t have the answer. She only knew deep in her heart, deep in her soul, that having sex with Luke would somehow complicate her life.
When she came out of the bathroom Luke wasn’t in the room but the door to the balcony was open, the warm night air flowing in on a faint breeze.
She thought about stepping out there and joining him, but with the memory of his hunger still filling her head and the tiny flicker of desire still burning in the pit of her
stomach, she crawled into bed and turned out the light. It was safer that way.
She was still awake nearly an hour later when he came in from the balcony, undressed in the dark and slid into the bed next to her.
If he touched her in any way, she knew she’d be lost. She wouldn’t have the resources to deny him, to deny herself. But he didn’t touch her. Her last thought before she fell asleep was that she wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.
“I checked in with Big Joey this morning while you were still sleeping,” Luke said the next afternoon as he and Chantal walked a different area of the beach than they’d walked the day before.
“Don’t tell me, some other bounty hunter found Willowby and brought him in and Big Joey is happy once again.”
Luke laughed. “Nope. Joey is pissed as hell. Nobody has seen hide nor hair of Willowby. The news outlets are reporting he vanished into thin air.”
“Unless he was taken aboard an alien space ship, he hasn’t vanished.” She gazed out at the throng of people enjoying the afternoon sun. “He’s here,” she said more to herself than to Luke. “I don’t know why, but I just feel it. He’s here somewhere and it’s just a matter of time before we spot him.”
“Woman’s intuition?”
“I guess. Silly, huh?”
He shook his head. “I never discount a woman’s intuition.”
They walked for a few minutes in silence, the sand hot beneath Chantal’s thin sandals. “The morning that my mom and dad left on their last plane ride, my mom called me from her cell phone,” he said. “She just wanted to tell me that she loved me and my brother. I’ve always wondered if somehow she had a sense of what was about to happen? If some woman’s intuition was at work that morning.”
Chantal touched his hand lightly. “I’m sorry, Luke. It must have been horrible for you to lose your whole family in the space of five months.” She sighed. “Sometimes I feel guilty because my life has been so wonderful.”
“But you lost your father.”
“Yes, and it was horrible, but I had my mother. We supported each other through it all. It sounds like you had nobody.”
“I had myself. That’s all I needed.” There was a remoteness to him that let her know he was finished talking about his personal past.
Luke was a man of many layers, and in the brief time she’d spent with him she felt as if she’d only peeled away one or two of the transparent outer ones. One thing was clear. He was a man comfortable with being alone.
She leaned down and picked up a pretty shell. “I should collect some of these for my assistant, Harrah. She makes jewelry.”
“And she has a brother serving five years on drug charges.” Chantal looked at him in surprise. “I told you I checked you out when you started working with Joey,” he said.
“That doesn’t quite seem fair. You seem to know everything there is to know about me, but I hardly know anything about you.”
“What do you want to know?”
She leaned down and picked up another shell and added it to the first one in her pocket. “How old are you?”
“I’ll be thirty-five on my next birthday.”
“And you’ve never been married?”
“Never. Never stayed in one place long enough to develop that kind of relationship with any woman.”
They walked around a group of people sunbathing. “But you’ve been in Kansas City working for Joey for five years or so. That’s a long time,” she said.
He nodded. “Longer than I’ve ever stayed in one place. Like you, this feels right for the moment. I like Kansas City, I like Joey and I like what I’m doing. I don’t know what tomorrow might bring, but for right now, I’m doing what I want to do.”
If Chantal needed another reason not to get involved with Luke, this was it. She had the feeling that at any moment he could disappear in a puff of smoke, vanish like a platter of petits fours at a baby shower.
“You ready to head back to the room?” he asked.
“Why don’t you go ahead? I think I’m going to walk to the marketplace and buy a couple of pieces of jewelry for Harrah.”
He frowned. “I’ll go with you.”
“Nonsense,” she scoffed. “Just because we’re working as partners doesn’t mean we have to be joined at the hip twenty-four seven. I’m perfectly capable of going alone to the market and getting back to the hotel safe and sound.”
He hesitated another moment, his frown deepening. “All right, then I’ll see you back at the hotel within an hour or so.”
She nodded, then watched as he turned and walked away from her. For the first time in three days she felt as if she could breathe more easily. She’d needed some time alone, some time separate from him.
She’d felt more comfortable around him when she’d thought she disliked him, when his hair had been ridiculously long and they weren’t sharing little pieces of each other.
Things had been easier when she’d thought he was an arrogant loner she couldn’t trust, a man she’d never want to get involved with.
But in the days and nights she’d spent with him she’d recognized that he was far more than an arrogant loner and there was no denying her attraction to him.
For the next few minutes she continued to pick up shells from the beach, then decided to head toward the marketplace. She needed to buy the items she wanted, then get back to the room to shower and dress. Tonight they planned to go to another nightclub, one of the last upscale clubs the resort town had to offer.
With each minute that passed she was trying not to get discouraged over the fact that not only had there been no sign of Willowby, but also the people who had seen his picture might be denying ever seeing him before.
As she walked toward the market place she remained aware of the people around her, not only seeking out the face in the crowd she’d most love to see, but watching for threats as a solitary female tourist.
It was impossible to be in the marketplace for any length of time and not feel a lightening of spirits as you breathed in the festive air. Even though it was a Wednesday afternoon, the place was once again packed. Everywhere she looked smiling faces greeted her, music wafted through the air and her momentary depression about not finding Willowby disappeared.
After all, they’d only been looking for two days. Maybe tonight he’d show up at the club. Maybe tomorrow they’d spy him on the beach. One thing was certain. She believed Marcus Willowby was like any other rapist. He was driven by compulsion.
There was no way he’d be able to hole up someplace and not seek to scratch his itch, no way he’d be able to isolate himself for any long period of time. Eventually the compulsion would be too strong to ignore, too agonizing to disregard. He’d leave his hiding hole and go hunting for a victim.
She bought a necklace and matching bracelet for Harrah, a beautiful rose scarf for her mother and a pale blue one for Belinda. She had a feeling the vendors had gotten far more for their wares than they should have. Chantal had never been good at dickering, but she was happy, they were happy and it was time to head back to the hotel.
She was on the outskirts of the marketplace when she saw him. A tall blond man clad in a pair of dark blue shorts and an unbuttoned light blue shirt. His back was to her and a pair of burly Hispanic men flanked him on either side. They stood in front of a booth that was offering a variety of items for sale.
Her heart crashed into her ribs and she almost dropped her packages in shock. Was it him? Certainly the build was right, as was the blond, neatly styled hair. She couldn’t tell from this angle. She needed to see him from the front. She needed to get close enough to be certain.
If it was him she had no intention of trying to take him down alone, here in the middle of the crowd. Even though what she’d like to do was whip out her handcuffs, contain him and get him to the States as soon as possible, she was too smart even to attempt such a thing.
Besides, the two men with him didn’t look like lightweights. They wore expressions of men
ace and their body language told her these were men who knew how to take care of themselves. Friends of Willowby? She somehow didn’t think so.
Hired help? Possibly. Willowby knew he was a wanted man. Maybe he’d hired some of the local talent to work as bodyguards. She frowned. The presence of bodyguards definitely made things more complicated.
She needed to follow him, find out where he went. He might lead her to the place where he was staying.
First things first, she thought. She needed to make certain it really was him.
She moved quickly, her heart still beating rapidly. What if it was him? What if he recognized her? A million doubts, a million concerns shifted through her head.
As the trio stepped away from the booth, the tall blond man turned and flashed his familiar grin. Willowby.
She felt momentarily light-headed. It was him. He was here in Tamillo. She’d been right. A swell of pride filled her, but it didn’t last long. She wouldn’t celebrate until he was in her custody.
Now all she needed to do was follow him and his buddies and see where they led.
She kept as far behind them as she could while still keeping them in her sights, impatiently watching as they stopped at various booths, sat on benches and enjoyed a shaved ice drink, then flirted with a couple of young women.
Chantal’s blood boiled as she watched him flash his charming smile and saw the obvious pleasure and preening of the young women. She wanted to run up and scream at the women to run, to get away before they were raped by the handsome American with the charming smile.
Instead she could do nothing but watch and hope that she wasn’t looking at two more of Willowby’s victims. She was aware of time ticking by.
She’d told Luke she’d be back to the hotel room within the hour and she’d already missed that deadline. But, there was no way in hell she was going to lose sight of Willowby until she knew exactly where he was staying.
As she followed and observed, she realized her first impression was probably correct. The two big men with Willowby were hired help. They walked just behind him, their eyes sharp on the crowd surrounding them. They were making sure nobody threatening got close to Willowby and Willowby was definitely hunting.
Hell on Heels Page 14