by Shauna Allen
I was a dead woman walking.
But, when I could forget the fact that my days were numbered, I tried to enjoy my little beachside getaway, as I liked to think of it. The house was cozy, and Lucas let me do the things I enjoyed as much as he could. He took me to base to run, he took me to walk the beach, but only when he deemed it safe, he got me the proper ingredients to cook to my heart’s content (and all the men enjoyed that), he got me books and magazines to read, and puzzles and games to keep us both busy at night.
I was in a safe, protected, cozy little bubble, and I was enjoying it a little too much. This became plainly obvious when I realized I was looking forward to seeing him every morning, anticipating his smiles, his fleeting glances, predicting his witty remarks. I was playing house in my mind, and it was a dangerous game. Lucas was no husband. He was a Marine. An American. A man here to protect me. I was a mission to him. An assignment. He might’ve kissed me, but that proved he was a human subject to his desires, nothing more. I’d do myself a favor to get my wayward feelings in check before I got my heart broken.
I showered and dressed, trying to get back a semblance of the cool façade I’d perfected over the years. I’d been around dozens of men who wanted me, and I’d mastered the art of being an ice princess. Nothing fazed me. None of them touched me unless I allowed it, and they knew better than to go against my wishes, or it was tantamount to defying the cartel. Yet, here I was, ready to crumble for the one man who I shouldn’t want.
I brushed my hair until it shone long and straight down my back, dabbed on some perfume, then finished my makeup with dramatic blood red lips to match my nails and dress.
A soft knock sounded at my door. “Grace?”
“You can come in.”
“You about . . .?” The door swung open. “Wow.”
I smiled at the way Lucas was lost for words and spun to face him. He looked pretty ‘Wow’, too, in black slacks and a white button-down shirt. He didn’t bother with a tie, but he didn’t need one. “Will this work? It’s the only dress I’ve got.”
“It’s perfect. You look . . . wow.” His eyes raked me up and down, eating me up.
I flushed under is open appraisal. “Are you sure your friends don’t mind you bringing me along to their wedding?”
“No. Of course not. Besides, if you don’t go, I don’t go, and that’s not happening.”
“Lucas, don’t be silly. I’m sure I will be all right here alone for one night. Go be with your friends—”
“No.” He stepped into my space, his hands on my shoulders in an uncharacteristic touch. “You’re with me. Always. Don’t ever forget that.”
Something in the way his hazel eyes blazed made me forget myself for a moment and I reached up and cupped his jaw. He hadn’t kissed me in over a week, and suddenly I was ravenous for the taste of his lips.
But he pulled back and cleared his throat. “We should go.”
“Yes.” I double-checked my lipstick then followed him out the door with my heart firmly back under wraps.
~ ~
Drew (his friends called him Red) and Danielle’s wedding was a beautiful affair. Security was already tight because Danielle’s father was in politics, and due to the current cartel threats, the Marines stepped up security, but it was all very quiet and tasteful, and didn’t intrude on the festivities at all. Ensconced in a quaint little vineyard, it was like something out of a romantic fairytale. The bride was lovely. The groom was debonair. The couple were obviously madly in love. There was magic in the air.
It was easy to forget, even for a few moments, that I was on the run from the Mexican cartel.
I talked to people I didn’t know, I ate until I nearly popped, I sipped several glasses of champagne, I laughed until I cried.
I had fun.
I was myself.
I was happy . . . truly happy. For the first time in a long time.
It was perfect.
“Care to dance?”
I glanced up into Tito’s shining green eyes as he smiled down at me.
I smiled back and set down my champagne. “I’d love to.”
I took his hand and let him lead me to the dance floor. We began to sway to the music, and without even looking, I could feel Lucas’s eyes on us. Instead of meeting his gaze, I glanced up at Tito. “Are you here alone?”
“I’m here with my team.” I sensed his genuine affection for his men, but the mischievous glint in his eye told me he knew he was evading the question.
“Married to the job, too, I see,” I remarked, smirking up at him.
His gazed turned serious. “She’s a demanding mistress.”
“Sorry, boss, cutting in.” A warm hand at the small of my back shifted me right out of Tito’s embrace, and suddenly, I found myself in Lucas’s arms.
“I—” My gaze flew to Tito’s to apologize, but he just laughed and sauntered away toward the cake table. “I’ll see you guys back at the house. I’m up for watch next.”
I turned back to Lucas, even as he spun me in a slow circle. “That was rude.”
He shrugged and drew me closer, swaying me to the slow song. “He doesn’t mind.”
“Well, I do.” Still, it felt entirely too good to be in his embrace.
“Do you now?” He smirked.
“Yes.” I belatedly realized he’d pulled me even closer and his fingertips were making tiny circles on my lower back.
“I’m sorry.” His words were soft, his breath warm near my jaw as he moved closer still.
I sucked in a breath, my fingers clutching his biceps reflexively. What was he doing to me? I murmured his name, my brain going haywire.
“You look beautiful. Did I tell you that?”
I nodded, unable to speak.
We moved slower, our bodies in rhythm with each other instead of the music. I was vaguely aware of the wedding festivities winding down and the guests beginning to trickle out behind us, but I could only focus on the sensations that Lucas was bringing alive in my body the longer he held me.
“I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you all night long,” he confided in a pained whisper, as if he needed to get it off his chest. “You’re killing me, Grace. I’m not sure how long I can keep my hands to myself.”
I didn’t trust myself to look him in the eye. I held fast to his waist and kept swaying with him, trusting my body to do the talking for me.
“If I kiss you again, will you speak to me in Spanish?” he whispered against my temple.
I nearly melted into him. “Dios mío . . .” My God.
“Come on,” he murmured. “I’m taking you home.”
~ ~
Lucas didn’t bother to say goodbye to his team or check in with Tito. He took me straight back to the house, hurried me inside, bolted the door, checked the security system, then rushed me.
I have no idea what came over him, but he was all man and all beast.
He speared his fingers through my hair and ravished me in a brutal kiss as he backed me against the wall, his tongue twisting around mine.
His hands cupped my hips, my ass . . . found their way toward the zipper in the back of my dress just as his lips found my throat. His breath was hot against my flesh as he nipped me with his teeth. “I want you so fucking bad, Grace. I have since the moment I laid eyes on you. It’s eating me up inside. I don’t know if I can stop. Tell me to stop.”
“No te detengas.” Do not stop.
Heavy-lidded, lust-filled eyes met mine. “Estás seguro?” Are you sure?
“Si.” I nodded and raked a hand through his hair, urging him on. “Por favor.”
He didn’t make me beg. He scooped me up and carried me to his bedroom, giving me a glimpse of every single beautiful and perfect thing that I ever wanted and could never have.
Eleven
Lucas
The way she looked at me simultaneously made my heart want to rip itself out of my chest and offer itself to her and made me want to cage it up and protect it for all
I was worth because she could shatter it into a billion pieces.
But, more than that, I needed to touch her, to taste her, more than I needed my next breath.
I set her on her feet next to my bed and caressed the hair back from her shoulder, making her shiver at my touch. “You are the most spectacular thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
Midnight black eyes lifted to mine. “So are you.”
My hands hovered near the back of her dress. “Can I see the rest of you?”
Slowly, she slipped off her heels, so she fell a few inches and the top of her head rested just below my nose, letting me smell the sweet floral scent of her shampoo. She spun, offering me her back, and moved her hair to the side so I could unzip her dress.
I fought to keep my hands from shaking as I tugged down her zipper, revealing the smooth caramel skin of her back, inch by delicious inch. Her crimson dress fell down her shoulders and arms and she let it fall to her feet in a puddle, revealing a black lace thong and bra.
I swallowed the ball of lust in my throat and cupped her shoulders. I dipped my head, tucked my nose to her throat, and scented her.
She tilted her head, giving me access.
I licked up and down her neck, making her moan.
Her hands wound through my hair, holding me close. I pressed the front of my body to her back as I suckled her throat.
“Lucas,” she whispered.
“What, baby?” I whispered back.
“Te necesito.”
I stilled at her words. I need you. Instead of telling her I needed her, too, I cupped her hips and spun her toward me, taking her mouth in a desperate kiss. I forged my name on her heart and branded my essence on her body.
In a fury of hands, we shed the rest of our clothes and found ourselves in my bed, skin to skin and heart to heart. I looked her in the eye as I took her body for the first time, and no matter how I’d fought it and denied the truth, in that moment, she took my soul.
~ ~
My phone chirped beside my head, rousing me from a very pleasant dream—wait. It wasn’t a dream.
Grace had spent the night in my bed, in my arms, naked, and had put every single fantasy I’d had about her to shame. Twice. Okay, three times. I grinned up at the ceiling as she made adorable little sleepy noises and snuggled farther into my embrace. Like a lovestruck dope, I sniffed her hair and kissed her temple.
My phone chirped again, making me frown.
What the hell time was it, and who the hell was texting at this ungodly hour? The sun wasn’t even up yet. I glanced over at the alarm panel on the wall and the red light showing it armed still glowed reassuringly.
I picked up my phone and checked the time before reading the text. This had better be good.
Bubba: Just did another sweep of the perimeter. All clear but Tito wants you down on base ASAP. He says its important. New intel about El Lobo Blanco. Urgent.
I frowned harder at my phone. What the hell? What the fuck is so urgent at four in the morning?
Bubba: He didn’t say. He just wants you down there.
Bubba: Go. I got this until you get back.
Grace mumbled something in her sleep, but settled down quickly.
Instead of answering Bubba, I texted Tito directly. You want me to come to base? Now?
Nothing.
I tried the others, but no reply. Maybe they were already on base and had their phones off.
I tried Tito once more and finally got a reply.
Yes.
That was all.
Something was up and I didn’t like it. The only way to know what was happening was to go find out what was going on with my team. Bubba could handle Grace’s security for an hour or so while I ran to base.
I pressed a quick kiss to her lips and slipped from the bed and yanked on some clothes.
I armed up and peered outside.
I shot Bubba a text. Where are you?
Not far, was his reply. See me?
I squinted. It was still dark, but at the far edge of the yard, where it met the beach, I made out a bulky figure. There were three short bursts from a flashlight, letting me know he was there. Gotcha, I texted back. I’ll be back in a few.
OK, he replied.
I loped out to my car and peeled out for base to find out what the hell was going on.
Base was quiet. Eerily so. Nobody was at HQ. No team and no Tito.
“The fuck?”
I grabbed my cell and dialed him directly. The line just beeped like it was dead. I tried the rest of the guys. Same thing.
My mind scrambled to catch up with my racing heart.
What. Was. Going. On?
I texted Bubba: Is everything OK there?
Bubba: Yes.
Me: The team isn’t here.
He didn’t reply. My intuition began to scream. Loudly.
Me: Check on Grace. NOW.
I sprinted back to my car and sped off the base. On instinct, I headed toward Tito’s. My team leader would be able to make heads or tails of this. Then, halfway there, a thought occurred to me and I hooked a U-turn.
Ten minutes later, I was in the quiet neighborhood, pounding on the door, praying I was wrong. My heart sank to my toes when Bubba answered his door, his eyes cloudy with sleep. “What the fuck, Lucky? Why aren’t you at the safehouse with Grace and Tito?”
“What the fuck is right, Bubba. Gear up. Get the rest of the team and meet me at the safehouse. We have a big fucking problem.”
Twelve
Grace
The bed dipped next to me and I wanted to purr and curl into his warmth one more time as memories of the previous night rolled through me like honey. Making love with Lucas had been more than I could’ve ever imagined, and I was a goner for the man. I knew now that I’d do anything, be anything, for him. I was ready to—
Fingertips tracked down my spine, but they left nothing but a chill in their wake.
That’s when I realized that the weight on the bed was wrong. The texture of his skin was wrong. His scent was wrong.
Everything was wrong.
Slowly, even though my heart was threatening to burst it was pounding so fast and hard against my ribs, I cracked my eyes open.
“You are my bride.” Juan’s words were soft as he leered down at my naked back, as if we were the ones who had made love just last night. His gaze finally slid up to meet mine, showing me the true evil that lurked inside of him. “Why do you run? Hmm? Why do you make me hunt you down? Do you think this is some kind of game, Grace?”
I began to shake my head in denial, scrambling to turn over and tug the sheet up to cover my naked breasts.
He glared at me in disgust. “And why would you cheapen yourself with some dirty American pig when YOU BELONG TO ME! Pinche puta!” His hands were suddenly around my neck, his eyes bulging and vicious, as he squeezed off my air supply.
Everything burned. My lungs were on fire. Blackness danced at the edge of my vision.
“Mr. Esteban,” one of his men said cautiously from the doorway.
This seemed to snap him out of his rage and he released his hold a fraction, allowing me to catch a painful breath. He leapt from the bed as if he couldn’t stand to be near me any longer. “Get dressed,” he spat.
“Where’s Lucas?” My voice was wobbly and frightened as I realized I had no idea how I’d ended up alone.
Juan shot me a sneer. “Don’t you worry about your little American lover. He’s gone and he’s not coming back for you.”
I stared at him, not comprehending. I’d known the cartel to do any number of vicious and devious things. Nothing was beyond them. But, how had they gotten to the American military? How had they found the safehouse? I was so confused. So scared. So heartbroken.
Still, I had no choice if I wanted any chance of survival, so I crawled from the bed and found my dress from the night before on the ground. I slid it back on with shaking hands. I faced Juan, who was texting someone and conversing quietly with his men about a boat. �
��I . . . may I use the restroom?”
He waved me on without looking up.
I rushed to the restroom and closed myself inside. I freshened up quickly then glanced around, looking for something, anything, I could use to protect myself. Nothing. They must’ve already searched it for potential weapons. Damn it.
Tears quivered in my eyes. Was Lucas really gone? Juan could be lying. If he was, Lucas would come here looking for me. I had to leave him a message. I shot a look to the door and hurried through the drawers. Empty.
Wait.
My makeup bag was in there. I yanked out an eyeliner and opened the cabinet under the sink. Inside, I wrote a quick note.
Lucas,
Juan took me. Not sure how he found us or where he’s taking me, but he did mention a boat. Please find me. I’d never leave you on purpose.
Love,
G.
Someone banged on the door, startling me. “Hurry up!”
“Coming!” I closed the cabinet, fluffed my hair, and opened the door. “Okay.”
Juan eyed me up and down. “Let’s go.” He yanked me out of the house by the arm and shoved me into a dark SUV driven by one of his men. It was quiet as we wound our way out of the beachside neighborhood and several miles down the highway.
With each turn of the tires, my fear and uncertainty grew. Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I turned to Juan. “Are you going to kill me?”
He shot me a murderous look. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“What does Marco say?” I knew, ultimately, the cartel leader had the final decision.
He lifted a cocky brow. “He’s left the final judgment up to me since it was me you dishonored.”
I swallowed. “Juan—”
“Silence. I don’t want to hear any of your excuses. Your words mean nothing to me.”
I snapped my mouth shut and turned to stare out the window for the rest of the ride until we turned into a nearly vacant marina and drove to the last boat slip where a huge yacht was docked.
Without a word, Juan stepped out, obviously expecting me to follow, though his man with the semi-automatic assault rifle and steely, soulless gaze made sure of it.