Valentine's Day (Second Skin Book 3)

by Ophelia Bell

  “No! What kind of man would I be if I didn’t fucking fight for you? I can’t leave!”

  She shoots Chris a look, and he nods. “I’ll give you one minute. Then you’re coming without a fight, got it?”

  He slips out the door and closes it behind him, but doesn’t throw the bolt again. I meet Toni’s gaze, silently pleading for her not to make me do this. She comes close and slides her arms around my neck, looking up into my face.

  “I know what you’re trying to do, and I’m so grateful. You have no idea how much it means to me that someone truly has my back in spite of everything. I’ll be okay knowing there’s an escape as soon as Cal can work things out.”

  My brows twitch at the name. “Cal? You mean Chris?”

  She tilts her head. “He said his name was Cal. Cal Logan?”

  I chuckle. “That’s his cover,” I say in a low whisper, then lean close to her ear. “He’s Chris Longo, Callie’s brother.”

  Her eyes widen. “I knew he looked familiar. He’s supposed to be dead.”

  “That’s the story, so don’t blow it for him, because he’s your way out. Are you sure you’re okay with me leaving? I’ll stay in Cancún until you’re free. As long as I have to.”

  She swallows and nods, then raises up and presses her lips to mine. My entire body responds, rejecting the idea of leaving her, and I pull her tighter, deepening our kiss. She tastes like mint and smells sweet and clean, but different than she usually smells fresh out of a shower. I don’t want to let her go, and I keep holding tight for several moments after our kiss ends.

  “Sam, you have to go. It’ll be easier if I know you’re at least safe. Besides, he only sent me back to this cell because I insisted on being with you. If you’re not here, I think he’ll let me stay in an actual room with a window and furniture. Though the man’s taste in wall art leaves a lot to be desired.” A shiver courses through her, and when I give her a questioning look, she shakes her head. “Trust me, you don’t want to know. Now will you please go?”

  As if on cue, the door opens again and Chris stands with his hands on his hips. I reluctantly release Toni and step away. When I turn, something flies through the air at my face and I reflexively grab it. My fingers catch soft fabric and I shake it out, revealing a simple black Henley.

  “You’re welcome,” Chris says. “Now vamanos.”

  I shoot one last look back at Toni, my steps hitching when I scan the other guards and catch the one with the ponytail leering at her. Chris jabs me in the lower back, urging me to move along, but I can’t help feeling sick to my stomach the farther I walk away from her.

  When the first steel door slams shut behind us, I say, “How long until you get her out?”

  “Tonight, if she does what I told her.”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “Back to your hotel, where you’ll pack up your things and leave town if you know what’s good for you.”

  “There’s no way in hell I’m leaving as long as she’s still here.”

  He snorts a laugh and assesses me when I glance at him. “I had a feeling you’d say that. I accounted for it.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He shushes me, and I grit my teeth and finally slip the shirt on as we exit through another door out into late morning sunlight. It was dark when we arrived, not to mention I had a bag over my head, so I take a good look at my surroundings.

  We’re in a shaded area beneath an overhang sheltering a gravel parking area. The door behind me is metal, equipped with heavy duty locks and a digital keypad, and evidently leads directly into the bowels of what appears to be a mission-style mansion.

  Turning the other direction, I see we’re not far from the Gulf, and the wall of the house tapers down into a low, white stone rail that gives way to a pale sandy beach. Nothing but the deep blue sea lies beyond.

  Heavy footsteps crunching across the gravel at my back make me spin, and I come face to face with Gustavo Delgado, his mouth set in a grim line. The glare he gives me puts me on guard, and I tense and clench my fists, ready to attack or defend myself if necessary, but there’s also a wariness in his eyes that holds me back.

  “Who did this to you?” he asks, pointing at my split lip.

  My eyebrows shoot up and I glance at Chris.

  “He didn’t make it easy,” Chris explains. “And it wasn’t like I knew about your goddamn deal.”

  Gustavo’s jaw tightens and he gives a terse nod. To me, he says, “Make sure your brother knows I didn’t lay a hand on you, got it? That I’m the one who let you go.”

  “What the hell does he have on you?” I ask.

  “Nothing. We just have an understanding, and I plan to abide by it. Promise me you’ll tell him.”

  “Fine. Just make fucking sure Toni doesn’t get hurt while she’s here.”

  He nods, then tilts his head to Chris before he spins on his heel and leaves.

  “Get in,” Chris commands. I reluctantly climb into the passenger seat of his Range Rover as he starts the engine.

  When the house is out of sight, I ask, “You want to tell me what the plan is now?”

  “First we get your things. Marina, my contact at the hotel, has everything packed up. She’s in Amador’s pocket, though, so as far as she knows, you’re being driven to the airport and loaded on a plane back to San Diego.”

  “But you’re not actually sending me back, are you?”

  He smirks at me. “If you’d go, I would. But no. I have an informant in town who’ll put you up, and Toni too once I get her out. You’ll stay with my informant until it’s safe to leave town. Whatever you do, don’t give anyone my name though, got it? As far as the rest of the world is concerned, you and Toni got yourselves out. She convinced a horny guard she’d blow him, and he let her out of her cell long enough to steal the keys to a car and run.”

  “That’s how she’s getting out? She has to blow a guard?”

  He shakes his head. “She just needs to make it look that way. I’ll help her. No one will lay a finger on her, I promise.”

  “Good,” I say, relaxing just a little, then wincing as my tender back presses against the seat.

  “You going to be okay with that?” Chris asks, nodding to my back. “I’d offer to help, but I don’t have any ointment or anything.”

  “I’ll be okay. It’s no worse than a bad sunburn.”

  We drive in silence until my curiosity gets the better of me. “How the hell did you wind up working for that bastard?”

  “If you mean Delgado, I don’t work for him. We both answer to Amador. But Delgado somehow manages to blow enough smoke up the boss’s ass to gain a little more autonomy.”

  “You don’t want that for yourself?”

  “It’s not what I’m after. If I want to take Amador down, being close is ideal, and you don’t get close to a guy like him without submitting, something Delgado isn’t all that good at.”

  “And you are, I take it?” I’m not sure I’m actually interested in the answer, but I ask anyway.

  “What can I say? He scratches an itch. It keeps me in the inner circle, even if I’m just a tool to him.”

  “That’s . . . one way to look at it, I guess.” I give him a dubious look, but he keeps his eyes on the road.

  “In my line of work, you learn to exploit every avenue you can. Sex is usually the easiest, if you’re willing to compromise. I’m just glad we didn’t have to send a female agent in to do what I’m doing. The fact that I enjoy it is beside the point.”

  I raise my hands. “Hey, I’m not judging. My older brother’s bi. Toni just made it sound like Amador’s a bit of a psycho. At least she was pretty freaked out after her visit.”

  “She’s not wrong. But psychos tend to be demons in the sack.” He shoots me a wicked grin, and I realize he probably isn’t a hundred percent sane himself.

  “We can change the subject now. I’m just glad you’re on my side.”

  30

  Sam

&nbs
p; Chris makes me wait in the car while he retrieves our belongings from the hotel. The entrance is busy with a constant stream of departing convention guests. I shrink down in my seat, even though the tinted windows probably obscure me well enough from sight. I don’t need someone recognizing me and dragging me into a conversation I won’t be able to participate in honestly.

  It’s around the time we’d have been leaving for our flight, so I keep my eye out for Vic and Mako and eventually spy them near the valet, looking grim and worried. Chris returned my phone to me when we started our drive, so I think about calling one of them to at least offer some excuse to set their minds at ease.

  The rear hatch opens, and I twist around to see Chris hauling several suitcases into the back, which I recognize as mine and Toni’s bags. When he settles in the driver’s seat again, I point to Vic and Mako. “What do we tell our friends?”

  He stares at the pair for a moment, then says, “When we get to the next stop, send a text. Tell them you two decided to extend your vacation a few days at a private resort. Make up some excuse, say it’s a gift or something, celebrating that prize you won maybe.”

  My neck prickles. “How much do you know about our trip?”

  “Not that much. We started tailing Toni around lunchtime yesterday, not long after we found out who she was and that she was actually in Cancún. Talk about lucky. Or unlucky, depending on who you’re talking to. She’s really talented, by the way. I saw the tattoo she put on your back. Fucking epic.”

  “She is. But it was a collaboration.”

  “Wow, then you’re both talented. Don’t ever give up what you’re good at.”

  “I don’t plan to.”

  He exits the hotel area, then heads up toward Isla Blanca. Kiteboarders pepper the bay, the wind carrying them skimming across the crystal-clear water. It’s calm and beautiful outside, but my insides are in total turmoil. I should call my brother, but I don’t want to risk it until I get the story straight in my head.

  “I need to tell Mason the truth,” I finally say, positive it’s the best course of action.

  “Fuck no. You tell him, he’ll tell Callie, and it’ll fucking snowball.”

  “I’ll keep your name out of it, but I need to at least let him know what happened. Not whatever lie I tell our friends back there. They don’t need to know the truth—he does. It’s not like he won’t find out anyway.”

  “Fine. But I don’t exist, got it? Not yet. That op of theirs can’t go off prematurely, and knowing my mother, she’ll push for it to happen sooner if she knows I’m here. This contact I’m leaving you with will be able to get intel to me when the time comes. If there’s anything I need to know, it can go through her.”

  “I understand.”

  He eventually turns off the road down a stone-cobbled lane, and I catch sight of an arch with a sign that reads “Tierra del Mar” in sweeping script. Through the canopy of trees, I catch glimpses of the water and a handful of stone buildings with cone-shaped thatched roofs. He pulls to a stop in front of the largest such building, and a pair of valets open both our doors.

  “You know what you’re going to tell your friends?” he asks before climbing out and opening the back. He shakes his head when the valet asks for his keys, pocketing them instead. One of the valets removes our bags and piles them onto a luggage cart, then pushes it down a stone path into the shaded entry.

  The building is deceptively large. The low-hanging roofline makes it appear to hug the ground, but the eaves are high above by the time we reach the front entrance. The walkway is surrounded by trickling water features, though their sound is drowned out by the lulling rhythm of the surf.

  “It’s her birthday tomorrow,” I say, half-distracted by the scenery. “I think a stay in a place like this would make a good gift for a woman turning thirty, don’t you?”

  Chris chuckles. “With a young stud like you to cater to all her needs? She’s a lucky woman.”

  “If she’ll have me in the middle of this, I’m the lucky one.”

  We head inside to a high-ceilinged lobby with a cathedral window on the opposite side. Through the glass, I have a pristine view of the beach and the rows of private cabanas that line a boardwalk out into the blue, sun-drenched water. Chris leads me past a sleek, polished-wood check-in counter and through a door on the other side into an office, where a woman Mom’s age sits behind a desk.

  She looks up, then stands, brushing her thick black hair off her shoulders as she rounds the desk. She’s a shapely woman in a tailored cream suit, and her expression is all business.

  “Mr. Logan, you’re early. And I thought you said you’d be bringing me two special guests.”

  “Change of plans. This is Sam Santos. He’ll need a safe place to stay until I can get the woman out. Sam, meet Selena Prieto, the owner of the del Mar. She’s a friend.”

  I glance at Chris, unsure whether it’s wise of him to drag this woman into our shit.

  The woman rounds the desk and holds out a hand to me. In a husky, accented voice, she says, “I know what you’re thinking, but I’m tougher than I look, Sam, trust me. Amador and I have a long, complicated history. I can deal with him.”

  “Thank you for having me,” I say, taking her hand and shaking it. “I guess you and Amador aren’t friends, then.”

  She gives me an enigmatic smile. “Like I said, it’s complicated. I’ll tell you more later. For now, let me get you set up with a cabana. I’ll take it from here, Cal.”

  Chris holds out a hand for me to shake. When I take it, he pulls me closer and bends his head. “You can trust her with your life. Lena’s had my back for six years. Let her help.”

  I heave a breath and nod, forcing a smile. “Thanks for everything. I hope you make it home, brother.”

  “Me too. You’ll see your girl soon, I promise.”

  He disappears out the office door. I stare after him for a moment, then turn to my host. “I guess I’m at your mercy now.”

  “You look like you’ve had a rough day. Follow me and I’ll make sure you’re comfortable.”

  She slips out the door and I follow, stopping when she pauses at the desk. “Is the villa open, Jordan?” she asks the young clerk. After tapping on a keyboard, the clerk nods and produces a metallic silver keycard.

  Selena takes the keycard and nods to me, then leads me through the lobby and out toward the water. The courtyard is a garden of lush greenery, sparkling pools, and flowing waterfalls curling around what looks like the remnants of Mayan ruins. Moss-covered stone bricks are interspersed with carved effigies, some of which are covered in vines.

  I follow her around a winding path that leads closer to the beach beneath a canopy of palms. After a minute of meandering through what feels like a maze, she turns and ascends a set of steps to a solid metal gate that was hidden by the foliage a moment ago. It’s painted deep green to blend with its surroundings and rises seven feet from the ground. The gate and the wall it’s set in feature decorative wrought-iron spines along the top that would probably hurt like hell if anyone tried to climb over.

  “This is our most secluded guest house,” she says. “It’s larger than most of the cabanas and for VIP guests only, but isn’t typically booked this time of year. It’s also the most secure. You need both a keycard and a biometric scan to enter.” She swipes the keycard through a slot, then punches in a code and steps aside. “Put your thumb on the pad.”

  I obey, blinking at the lengths she’s going to for me. “Is this really necessary?”

  “Cal filled me in on the details. I know who you are. I also know who Toni Valentine really is, and how valuable she must be to Vicente. I’m not going to take any risks once she arrives. He can’t know this is where she is, so my one request is that you do not leave this villa until it’s safe for you to go. Leave everything else to me.”

  She pushes the gate open and steps through to a terra cotta-paved courtyard. A burbling fountain takes up the center, tiled in a mosaic of golds and blues. The fo
rest shelters the area with a dark canopy so only sparse sunlight filters in, flickering across the water in the fountain. The villa itself is all white plaster and arches for two stories, though the building’s footprint seems to be fairly small.

  Another keypad and biometric lock secures the front door. When Lena opens it, I’m greeted by a view as gorgeous as the one in the lobby. A full wall of windows looks out onto the beach from beneath the thatched overhang. Through the cozy living space is another terra cotta patio, but this one features a small swimming pool. The same high walls topped in security spikes surrounds the rear patio too, which has another security gate accessing the beach beyond. The beach is empty, but I hear the voices and laughter of other guests somewhere in the distance.

  “This is . . . not what I expected,” I say, standing in the center of the open space. There’s a full kitchen and living room with plush furniture and a sisal rug covering the tile floor. The porch leading down to the pool has a pair of woven chairs with stuffed cushions, and nearby is an outdoor dining area with lights strung across the eaves.

  “It’s as secure as I can offer. The other guests won’t bother you. The kitchen is fully stocked. If you cook, you’re welcome to whatever you find inside, but if you prefer to order from our restaurant, there’s a secure delivery slot in the wall where we came in, and I’ll deliver those meals personally.”

  “Wow, you don’t have to do that. I think I can manage.” I scan the kitchen where a bowl of fresh fruit rests on the counter and clear glass cabinets display rows of painted ceramic dishes and colorful hand-blown glasses.

  “Let me show you the rest,” Lena says, stepping up onto a low landing that leads up a narrow set of steps to the second floor. The staircase is situated in the corner of the villa with small windows staggered up the walls that let in more sunlight, as does a skylight overhead.

  The second floor is taken up entirely by a large bedroom with a king-sized bed and an adjoining bathroom. Another balcony overlooks the pool area and features an even more spectacular view of the ocean. The bed looks almost too inviting after spending a night on a concrete floor with Toni’s thigh for a pillow, but I’d take concrete over a bed as long as I’m with her.