by Karin Tabke
She whimpered. He stopped. Was she in pain?
“Good pain, Teo, don’t stop,” she gasped, rubbing her cheeks into his hips.
He thrust into her again and again and again. There was nothing slow, gentle or loving about it. They were straight-up fucking. The tight muscles lining her pussy fisted him as they spasmed, signaling her orgasm. Those wondrous muscles grasped him tightly and milked his cock to the same cadence of her rushed moans of release. When he came this time, he came with such urgent force, he could feel his semen gush out of him in thick, hot spurts. He kept coming and coming and lord love her, her muscles fisted him, depleting him of everything he had.
They crashed to the bed, Mateo on top of her, their breathing forced and heavy. He rolled over and pulled her sultry body with him. She lay sprawled across his slick skin. His dick still hard despite his epic ejaculation.
He dropped a hand to her damp head and absently stroked her hair. “Why did you turn over?”
Propping up on an elbow, she smiled that sexy, sly smile that signaled pain was imminent. Warily, he smiled back. “I agree that for us to show a united front, sex more than anything will spotlight that we’re united. But that’s all it will be: sex.”
Mateo’s eyes narrowed.
“There will be no lovemaking,” she continued. “And I pray until my life is sorted out and on an even keel, I don’t conceive a child.”
“You’re not on any kind of birth control?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“No. As the only Dumas blood heir, I am forbidden to prevent a pregnancy.”
“Then I’ll wear a condom.” It was the only solution.
Her brows wrinkled as if she was put out. “You don’t want children?”
Mateo rolled away, grabbed a pillow, punched the shit out of it, then plunked his head down on it. “I’d make a lousy father.”
“You will be the father you choose to be.”
He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. He was a shitty father the first time around. He was not up for a repeat performance.
When she touched his shoulder, he flinched. “You had a child that died?”
He rolled over and stared at her in the lowlight of the room. “Why do you say that?”
“I can feel it. Your sorrow. And your regret.”
“I fucked up and my son died because of it.” There, he’d said it. Out loud. For the first time to someone other than himself.
“Tell me what happened,” she softly asked.
“No.”
He felt her nod, before she lay back on the bed. She didn’t touch him physically, but just her presence felt like a warm blanket around him. “When you truly trust me, you will tell me.”
He would make sure he never trusted her enough. And try as he might to convince himself that what he was doing was for the greater good of humanity as a whole, he hated himself for lying to her about everything—except for how badly he wanted her body, and that once his mission was accomplished, he would take her from this hellhole and show her that a whole new world existed for her.
• • •
Early the next morning, Mateo woke before his wife. And was glad, because he wanted to get the lay of the hacienda without having to look like he was reconning the place. Careful not to disturb her, he slipped from the big bed.
Pulling his shorts on, he walked out onto the wide veranda running the length of the sitting room and bedroom and immediately detected two virtually invisible camera lenses. He gave them both the finger. They were on either side of the French doors that opened from the bedroom to the veranda. He needed to get word to command that the most powerful cartel heads in the world would be in attendance here at Terra Oro in less than a week.
What command would do with the information he could only guess. He knew what he’d do, but he wasn’t calling the outside shots.
As he stood gazing over the large expanse of the grounds, he whistled. Lush, blooming planters, fountains, walkways and arbors were woven together in what appeared to be a haphazard mosaic but in actuality was a beautifully land- and waterscaped paradise.
“Would you like some coffee?” Sophia called from the bedroom.
He turned and his answer caught in his throat. Her sleepy eyes blinked against the morning sun, her shiny blond hair hung in thick, wild waves around her honey-colored skin. She’d put on a pale yellow gauzy nightgown to replace the one he’d ripped off of her before they went to sleep last night, and with the sun shining on her like it was, she virtually glowed. And his cock stirred. Jesus, he needed to get that thing harnessed.
He moved toward her and took the steaming cup from her hand. He slipped his other hand around her waist and drew her against him. “Good morning, beautiful,” he softly said against her forehead and kissed it. He felt her sigh and the shift in her body. Wanting to press his advantage, he didn’t. He wanted her to come to him.
He sipped from the cup while still holding her against him. “That’s good, thank you.” Stepping away from her, he asked, “Do we have to eat breakfast with your father or can we enjoy a meal together in town?”
“Papa will be gone for most of the day, and I need to get ready for work.”
“Work?”
“Yes, that thing people do to make money or in my case to get out of jail for several hours a day. Now let me get ready.”
As she did her thing in the bathroom Mateo wondered if he was being set up.
“You’re leaving me here? Alone?” he asked as she came back onto the patio.
She laughed, the sound musical. His blood stirred. “Yes. Go snoop around all you want but I promise you won’t find any terrible secrets lurking behind the walls.”
“Why do you say that?”
Exhaling loudly she put her hands on her hips and looked him straight in the eye. “I’m not in denial about what a shrewd businessman my father is. Nor am I in denial about the power he wields. But he does not and has not resorted to criminal activities to get where he is. He’s a brilliant businessman with global holdings.”
Mateo’s jaw dropped. “Do you truly believe your father’s empire was built on blue-chip investments and land acquisitions, Sophia?”
“No, but he’s not the beast he’s portrayed to be by jealous competitors or the media.”
“If he is so lily white, why would he force you to marry a notorious drug lord’s son?”
“Bertram was strong and would have protected my father’s interests in Mexico. By joining the two families, we would have gained unparalleled security.”
Mateo shook his head. “But dear Papa, who keeps you in a gilded cage, would never ever consider dipping his innocent toes into the cocaine gravy train Bertram controls south of Mexico City?”
She shrugged. “My father abhors drug use of any type.”
“That’s different from supplying it.”
“I don’t know.”
“I think you do know, angel, otherwise you wouldn’t want to blow this Popsicle stand.” He moved closer to her but didn’t touch her. “You’ve admitted you stay because you’re afraid of what Daddy dearest would do to you.” He lowered his nose to her soft, scented hair. “Your father is at the top of the criminal food chain, angel, and there’s nothing he won’t do to stay there and ensure his heir does as well.” He notched her chin up. “And since you are a woman, in his archaic world you don’t count.” He slid his hand down her belly and rested it there. “But a grandson would.” His fingers tightened on her belly. “Is that what you want for your son? This world you live in?”
She pushed his hand away and strode back through the bedroom to the large walk-in closet and opened the door. Mateo followed her. “I have no plans of bringing a child into this world,” she said.
“Having unprotected sex isn’t exactly the way to go about that.”
“I’m safe, but
from now on, we use a condom or there will be no sex.”
His eyes narrowed. “If you end up pregnant by me, Sophia, we’re out of here.”
She turned with a red skirt in her hand. “You make no sense, Mateo. You kill my fiancé, show up here and demand my hand and a place at the table, yet I get the impression you don’t approve of my father’s businesses and because you don’t, you don’t want to bring a child into that world.”
“I’m here because I want you. I have you. To keep you, I’ll play along here until I find a safe way out for us both.”
“There is no safe way out while my father lives. He’s healthy and robust, and once he’s gone you will be so consumed by the power that comes with his death you’ll toss me to the wolves at the door to keep it.”
“You’re wrong about me.”
She shook her head. “Not on this, I’m not. And I won’t even hold it against you. Power like that is the most addictive drug on the planet.” She turned and walked into the dressing room off the walk-in closet. When she returned several minutes later she was dressed in a flirty red skirt that hit her just below the knees and a modest white peasant-type blouse. On her feet were flat, strappy sandals. “But what I will never understand or accept is you turning to another woman. Do it and I will kill you myself.” Smoothing her skirt, she looked up and graced him with a bright smile.
“I have twenty-five five-year-olds who will be very upset if Miss Duma— Er, ah, Mrs. Juarez doesn’t show up for work.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and said, “Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone.”
Mateo stood in the empty room staring at the door his wife had just walked through. He felt oddly alone. Shaking his head, he pushed the unwanted feeling away and quickly dressed. He was going to take full advantage of his father-in-law’s and his wife’s absence.
As he stepped outside of his room, Manny, the old man’s butler, was waiting for him.
“I have been instructed by Señor Dumas to give you a tour of the grounds.”
Mateo weighed the pros and cons of the order. He could argue and beg off and it would piss off the old man, which Mateo didn’t really give a fuck about, but if he allowed the ancient manservant to show him around, he might be able to squeeze some information out of him.
“Tour away, Manny,” Mateo invited.
The serene old guy nodded, and since Sophia’s suite of rooms took up the far end of the second floor, they had nowhere to go but right.
“Casa d’Oro comprises nearly thirty thousand square feet of living space as well as eighty thousand square feet of open courtyards and atriums. The entire second floor is made up of guest rooms and personal suites, with Señor Dumas’s on the far east side to the señora’s west side. Each has a private veranda overlooking the rear grounds.”
“Which was built first, the hacienda or the village?”
“They were built simultaneously fifty years ago.”
Mateo wondered if any aerials were taken during the construction. He’d love to know where the lab was. He’d bet his right arm there were tunnels from the lab that ran in every direction for miles outside the town gates. As they approached the wide, sweeping stairway to the courtyard below and the third floor above, Mateo asked, “What’s up on the third floor?”
“There is a grand ballroom as well as a full commercial kitchen and servants’ quarters.”
“Mind showing me around up there?”
“I would. Señor does not like the third floor to be disturbed unless there is a function.”
As they walked down the stairs, Mateo asked, “How long have you known Señor?”
“All my life. My father was his father’s majordomo.”
“So you knew his wives?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to the first one?”
“Señora Dumas drowned off the coast of Spain in a boating accident.”
“Where was Señor?”
“Here. It was a terrible shock to us all.”
“When did he meet Sophia’s mother?”
“Shortly thereafter.” Manny smiled wistfully. “It was love at first sight for Señor. I have never seen him so happy as when he was with Señora.”
“How did she die?”
“Oh, no, she ran away.” He sighed. “It’s been over ten years. Señor has not been the same since.”
“Why do you think she ran away?”
“This, as you have already seen, is the grand courtyard,” Manny said, ignoring his question. “In the spring, summer and fall, when the climate is quite enjoyable, most of the family meals are taken out here.”
“Or do you think she met with foul play?”
“As you can see, Señor Juarez, the entire interior of the structure has an extensive security system, complete with rotating twenty-four-hour cameras as well as amplifiers to pick up conversations.” Manny’s dark eyes snapped angrily. “Nothing goes unseen or unheard in Casa d’Oro.”
“Are you telling me that as a threat or are you telling me that because there’s archived video feeds of the night Señora Dumas disappeared?”
“You would have to ask Señor that. I am not privy to that information.”
“Tell me about Javier Bertram.”
Manny’s eyes narrowed. “He is dead and therefore a closed subject.”
Mateo leaned close and whispered, “Did you know he was sweet on Ana Montes?”
When Manny’s eyes glazed over, Mateo had his answer. “Did the old man know?”
“Señor knows all.”
“Did he know she was pregnant with Bertram’s child?”
“How else was Señor to know if he could produce an heir?”
Mateo whistled and shook his head. “That’s some cold shit right there.” And all this time Javi thought he and Ana were a big secret. Did Dumas set her up to seduce his future son-in-law?
“You will discover, señor, that nothing is beyond the limits if it will keep the bloodline pure and secure.”
“I’m beginning to see that, Manny, my man.” Mateo stopped and looked toward the towering entry doors. “I think I’ll go get a lay of the land.”
“It would be my honor to show you around the village.”
Mateo gave Manny a sideways glance and the old man raised a brow as if to say, “I go where you go.”
“Where does Sophia teach?” Mateo asked, instead of taking the majordomo up on his horning in.
“Immaculeta in Mexicali.”
Mateo’s brows rose. He thought for sure it would be within the confines of the dictatorship that was Terra Oro. Not that Mexicali was far, maybe six miles tops, but it was across the border and not under Dumas rule. Or was it?
“How is it that the old man is okay with his daughter taking off for Mexico but here he’s got her under a microscope?”
Manny looked up at Mateo with the patience of a man who was about to explain the facts of life to a rock. “In Mexico there is no greater law than Dumas. That is understood by even the lowest of life forms.”
“Then why does he live in the States?”
“He is an American and a true patriot.”
Mateo nodded, realizing Manny was as brainwashed as Sophia.
“I’m thinking I’ll surprise my wife and take her out to lunch. How about a lift?”
Manny nodded and fifteen minutes later, Mateo found himself standing outside of Sophia’s kindergarten classroom. That Manny never slowed down as they drove through the checkpoint didn’t go unnoticed by Mateo. But it wasn’t a big deal either. There were regulars who went back and forth daily, who had special stickers and as such weren’t stopped by border patrol on either side.
As he reached for the classroom door he heard the happy sound of rambunctious children and the lilting voice of an angel as she sang to them. Sophia’s voice was clear and happy. As the
children began to sing with her, Mateo nudged open the door, and watched mesmerized as she walked around the room, helping the kids pick up the day’s mess as she touched each child on the face, her smile warm and caring.
Sophia Dumas was one of those special women who touched everyone she came into contact with. As she knelt down and wiped a dirty face, then smoothed back unruly curls, it struck him she was no more involved in the Dumas cartel business than Mateo was. She was as innocent of evil as the children she touched with her warmth. Mateo was a fool to assume she was in as deep as her old man. He needed to get her out before he couldn’t.
He nudged the door open wider, catching her attention. When she smiled at him, his chest tightened. He wanted her now. And he wanted her after he took her father’s empire apart. But would she still want him then?
chapter twelve
“Canta, mis angelitos!” Sophia happily chirped. The children had noticed him in the doorway and, curious, had stopped singing. They began to sing again and as they did, Sophia grabbed her purse from a little locker near her desk and took out her wallet.
“I meant to give you some cash to go buy yourself some clothes and toiletries.”
He stood staring at the wad of bills she placed in his hand. “I have my own money, Sophia.”
“Yours is blood money, mine I earned here. Take it. I’ll be done with the children at three. Meet me back here and then we’ll go have an early dinner in town?”
Mateo nodded as she closed the door, and began to sing to the children again. He stood there for a long minute when he realized he’d crossed a self-imposed line. He had become emotionally involved with the boss’s daughter. And it could get them both killed.
Fuck.
As he strode from the Catholic school he made a beeline for the mercado across the street. He needed to call in. Easily he purchased a throwaway cell and strode down the street until he came upon what was a busy town square. Slipping into a loud cantina, he made his way into the men’s room. Positioning the trash can against the door handle, he called in.