Celina felt the flush that suffused her features when he came near her. She swallowed tightly, knowing that his eyes were devouring every curve of her body.
He wore a pair of faded jeans with a beige cotton shirt and a navy blue sports coat. He stood in front of her and glared. “I would like for you to trim my hair. Would you do me that favor?” His brows arched and a smile curved his lips with humor in his tone.
What could she say? She was at his mercy. She took a deep breath and nodded her head.
“Well then, follow me,” he commanded, leading the way to a back door in his office. His walk was fast paced in a pair of black dress shoes that he wore, which appeared to be of excellent quality.
Celina was having a hard time keeping up with him in her high heels, and she could only think of what Carmela had told her earlier.
They came to a stairway and went down the steps where a golf cart was waiting. “Hop in,” he said, in a friendly tone.
Her eyes wandered with much curiosity as she got into the golf cart. She could have sworn otherwise, that if she hadn’t known about whom he really was, that she would have thought he was a respectable gentleman. The way he carried himself and his demeanor said, ‘nice guy.’ They drove about a hundred yards or more, until they came to another set of steps.
“Please, follow me,” he gestured, getting out of the golf cart.
They went up another flight of steps, and when they reached the top, Celina's mouth hung agape when she saw nothing but elegance. Before her eyes was an enormous mansion.
“Welcome to my home, Celina,” he said with excitement, as he opened his arms.
She was surprised to hear him call her by her name. She followed him, walking along the polished marble floors and into a glass-walled elevator that took them to the third story of the home.
When the elevator doors opened, they walked out into a living room area surrounded by oversized stylish furniture. Nothing but grandeur encompassed the room. It was like night and day compared to where she had just come from.
“Please take a seat. Would you like something to drink?” He walked with confidence over to a table and picked up a handset to a phone.
“Yes, lemonade or water would be fine,” she replied, taking a seat on a brown leather chaise. Celina glanced down to see the exquisite woodcarving details on the large ball claw legs of the chaise.
“Here's water for now. I have called for a pitcher of lemonade, and it will be here shortly,” he said, handing her a water bottle.
She nodded, twisting off the plastic cap to the spring water.
He sat across from her in an oversized chair and placed his feet on the matching ottoman. He smiled at her. His elbow was on the armchair, with his chin resting on his hand. He watched her intently.
Celina avoided looking in his direction, because she knew he was looking at her and she was feeling uncomfortable. She could feel his eyes on her, intense and blazing.
Seconds passed, and he cleared his throat and asked, “That night at the club. Why did you walk over to kiss Pancho? What was that all about?” He motioned with his hand up in air. Silence reigned, when she didn’t answer him right away. His expression was predatory; it was hungry as he eyed her up and down, ears to ankles.
One part of her argued not to answer him, but the other part said to be polite, like Carmela said. She swallowed, then replied, “Because, I am doing things that I'd like to do, before the year 2012 comes around.”
“Oh, so you believe the world is going to end in December of this year?” He rubbed at his lower lip and stared at her.
“I'm not saying it is,” she took a deep breath, “I only believe that something is going to happen, because science tells us that the planets are going to be realigning themselves. I just want to make sure… I did as much as I could... you know, in the event that everything does come to an end.”
“So…” he stammered, “kissing Pancho was… what?” He rotated his hand in air. “What do you call that? A dare?”
“No, not a dare.” She wrinkled her forehead. “On my list, I had a wish to kiss a handsome stranger.” She looked right back at him.
“Hahaha,” he then clapped his hands loudly. “So you thought that Pancho was handsome that night.”
The elevator doors opened, and in came an older woman, wearing a black housekeeper's uniform, holding a tray of lemonade. She set the tray on the coffee table and handed her a glass with a sliced lemon on the rim.
Celina smiled at the woman and said, “Gracias.”
The woman smiled back at her with warmness, then turned and handed the boss a glass too.
“So, do you still think he's handsome?” He took a sip of his lemonade while maintaining eye contact.
She smiled and nodded.
“What if… I would have been sitting there instead of Pancho or maybe next to him… would I have gotten that kiss?” He looked deep into her eyes.
Celina didn't answer. She only looked back at him. She didn’t want to answer. He himself was a very good-looking man, a few years older than Pancho, so it seemed. However, again under the circumstances, if she didn't know he was a drug lord, she would have dated him, if he had asked her out. Both Pancho and he had a few similarities, but after being kidnapped by him, you could say that she detested him.
“So, I guess… no comment, huh?” He then took a big sip of the lemonade and set the glass down. He got comfortable in his chair and stared at her for long while.
His stare was making her uncomfortable. She wondered what he was thinking of, especially after the comments that Carmela had made earlier to her.
He took a deep breath and shook his head, as if shaking something away. “So do you have a boyfriend back home?” The questions continued.
“No,” she replied dryly.
He tilted his head and gazed at her, eyes bright. “Do you have any kids?”
“No.” She rolled her hazel green eyes at his tone. “Do you like kids?” She asked, turned the table on him, figuratively speaking.
“Yes, I'm not an evil person.” He chuckled. Then he rose to his feet. “Okay, let's see how you cut hair.”
He waited for her to rise and then led the way; through a long hallway, walking over hand knotted oriental rugs. Celina’s eyes admired the forged wrought iron chandeliers that hung from the ceiling and the many decorative mirrors and pieces of art that hung along the hallway walls.
A minute later, they walked into his bedroom, where she caught a glimpse of the king-sized platform bed that was the focal point in the room. The bed was low to the floor, with a large padded headboard, upholstered in rich black fabric, with tufted buttons; it was draped with a dark brown satin comforter. A tall vase with fresh calla lilies was set on top of a dresser that was indirectly across a fireplace with beautiful, handcrafted, wooden molding.
She followed him to his spacious bathroom, where the elegance of the finer side continued. Double sinks, a large double shower enclosed with thick glass, and a huge sunken tub encompassed the room. The theme of fresh calla lilies in tall vases also continued on the granite counters. Far to the right, in a corner, was a styling chair and hair sink.
He sat down and leaned his head back into the sink. “Okay, Celina, do your thing.”
She looked around to see what hair products he had and immediately began to wash his hair. In that moment, she forgot where she was and felt in her own surroundings with the salon furnishings. She forgot that he was the evil villain and that he had kidnapped her. Without thinking, she began to do her specialty scalp massage after she lathered the shampoo in his hair. She placed her fingers on the sides of his temples and began to apply pressure, making small circles clockwise, moving slowly to the back of his head. She continued making and moving her fingers in small circles down to the nape of his neck.
He then released a soft moan and in that, instant Celina realized what she was doing, so she took the sprayer, and rinsed his hair with cold water.
Rafael smiled and ope
ned his eyes when he felt the cold-water rinse. “That felt good, and if you would have kept it up, you would have put me to sleep. Warm water would have felt better, too.” He teased with a chuckle.
Celina knew he was enjoying himself and toying with her. She released a sigh in frustration. She put a towel on his hair, drying it roughly, moving his head every which way. “Please get up, so we can begin to cut your hair,” she said, in a dry tone.
“You’re going to give me whiplash.” He chuckled because he knew that he had upset her. He did as told, and sat down on the styling chair, holding on to the wet towel on his head. She grabbed the towel and tossed it in a corner, placed a black cape on him and began to trim his hair.
Rafael couldn't keep his eyes off her as he watched her every move from the mirror.
When she finished, he asked her, “Very nice. Can you please trim my beard?” he rubbed his hands over his cheeks.
She answered sarcastically, “Please! Please. I didn't think you knew that word. Who would have thought please was in your vocabulary.”
He shook his head, rolled his eyes, and didn't say anything. He sat there and looked like he was thinking hard. “I see you like to play with fire,” he stated.
She ignored his remark and came eye level to him with the beard trimmer. She could feel him studying her face and could feel his breath on her cheeks. This was the closest she had ever been to him. When she finished, she turned the trimmer off, looked at his jaw line and glanced from one side to the other for symmetry.
Wasting no time, he placed his arm around her waist and brought her in close to him startling her. “Don't be scared.” His voice was soft and sweet. He brought his other arm around her.
“Why shouldn't I be scared? Aren't you a murderer?” God, he had made her mad. She stared back at him heavily. He infuriated her.
He could see the mad rising in her eyes. “Why do you say those things, if you don't even know me?” he chuckled and grinned at the accusation, enjoying his arms around her.
“I'm not stupid. How could you have such a position in this cartel?” She tried to pull away from him as he held her steady with his strong hold. “This is all I read in the newspaper every day on the front page.” There was leashed anger in her voice.
“The tone in your voice is exciting me.” His chest began to heave. “I think you're beautiful, and I'm jealous of Pancho. But let me tell you this… I can give you more than he can. You can live here with me, like a queen. I would never let anyone harm you.” His tone was soft and sweet.
“Ah, yeah right, for how long? Until, someone comes and kills you. I don't think so. I'm fine just the way I am back home.” She stared into his eyes. “Can you please, turn me loose?” She wanted to run. She wanted to escape.
“I know that you are a woman that could be any man’s weakness. A man in my position cannot afford to have a weakness. But I just can’t escape your seductive beauty. From the first time I saw you back at the club, cupid had shot not only an arrow at Pancho but right through me, too.” His brows almost arched at the statement. He kept his strong hold on her. “I need to know how you feel about me. Well, do you find me attractive at least?” He tilted his head to one side and his lips quirked up in a smile.
“That doesn't matter.” She felt a chill down her spine and avoided the question. “I just don't believe in your way of life. The way you treat people… with torture and killings. How could I live with myself? Enjoying all of this, and at the expense of the torture of other people?” Her lips pressed together afterwards.
A smile curled at the end of his lips. “Oh… so you are attracted to me, but not my line of work.” He winked his eye at her as she tried to pull away from him.
She gave her head a hard jerk and her throat tightened.
“I want you, but not in a naughty way. Not like the crazed sex I’m used to having with the other girls. That is just pure sex. I want to make love to a woman that I can love and for her to love me back as well. A woman to call my own, a wife.” He watched her eyes widen, and then he let out a deep breath. He looked at the side of her face and removed a silken strand of hair from her cheek. His eyes then met hers. “Thank you for my hair cut and for trimming my beard. I must say that I enjoyed the scalp massage, because it helped ease my headache.” He gently released his hold on her, and she stepped away from him.
His cell phone rang; he looked at the number and took the call.
She watched his expressions as he spoke on the phone, and it looked like something was wrong.
He hung up, and said. “I'm sorry, I wanted to eat here with you at my house, but I must go back to the office; something has come up. Stay here, and Lourdes will be up with the food shortly and you can eat out on the balcony.” He got off the chair and looked at her. “Make yourself at home, Celina. If you'd like to shower I have some clothes for you on my bed.” He smiled and stared into her hazel green eyes--eyes that drew him in, and promised him joy, promised him life, promised him a family, if she would have him. He kissed her forehead, and began to walk away. Then he turned back and said, “I'll have someone come for you later this evening, unless you'd like to stay with me tonight...in my bed.” He waited politely for an answer, his eyes searching her.
She shook her head and whispered, “No, thank you.”
“As you wish. I can live with that, for now.” He leaned forward and kissed her on her cheek. “Maybe some other night.” He raised his eyebrows, ran his hand over her hair, winked his eye and left the room.
Chapter 27
Puzzle pieces
Xavier walked into the salon, looking for his sister. Bracing his arms over the counter, he leaned over. “Excuse me, where is Valeria?” he asked in a demanding voice.
Marivel, who had just hung up the phone, smiled tightly. “She's in the back, washing hair,” replied Marivel.
Xavier was professional enough that his animosity didn’t show, but Marivel could feel it.
He walked with long strides and called Valeria’s name when he saw her. “Valeria.”
“Hey.” She turned around when she recognized his voice.
“Can I talk to you in your office?” He was anxious, shifting his body side to side.
“Sure, give me just a minute to rinse my client's hair. If you'd like to wait in the office?” She stared back at him suspiciously.
Moments later, Valeria walked into the back office, closed the door and saw that her brother had laid pictures on her desk. “What's this?” She walked over to get a better look.
He handed her a picture. “Is this the guy from the restaurant?” He shrugged.
She took the eight-by-ten picture in her hand, and stared back at him in mute shock, then nodded her head. “Where did you get this picture from?” She wrinkled her forehead.
“I went to Danny's Restaurant and asked if I could see their surveillance tapes. I also went over the tapes at all of the bridges, and Celina wasn't taken into Nuevo Laredo.”
Her face was numb with grief and shock. “Now, what do you think? I mean, now what are you going to do?” She stood waiting for a reply, with a wet white towel over her shoulder.
“Well, I ran this picture through our database, and this guy is associated with the Gulf Cartel out of the Valley. They call him Flaco.” He stared back suspiciously at his sister. “Do you all know anyone in the Valley?” He leaned forward, waiting for a reply, narrowing his eyes at her.
She nodded slowly, staring back at him as she tried to think, to figure out where, how, and why. “You mean like friends or customers?” She took a deep breath and looked around the office in thought.
“I don't know. Is there anything that you can tell me? Oh, like you and Celina were in the Valley some time last week.” He shook a finger in midair. “Did anything happen while you were there?” He crossed his arms over his chest and rubbed at his jaw.
Valeria then stepped back, not knowing if she should mention about Celina kissing that stranger. She wasn’t looking forward to telling hi
m about that.
Silence reigned.
“I can tell… that you know something. Please tell me.” He slammed his hand on the desk.
Valeria jumped back and shut her eyes briefly. “Well, that night when we called you. We had just left a bar and when I say we left,” she paused looking down at her fingers. “We left like out of an action movie, with Celina peeling out of the parking lot in her car from a night club.”
“What the hell did you two do?” His voice was rising and his hands tightened on her shoulders. “This must have been a drug lord's nightclub.” He then shook her. “Shit Val, you don't mess around with these people. What did y'all do?” He was so furious that he snarled.
“Well, nothing really.” She rubbed her arms after he let her go. Working with people, she had learned how to read them, and right now she knew her brother was furious.
“Ah, you must have done something to bring this on,” he told her, his voice throbbing with anger. He pushed his cowboy hat back above his forehead.
“Well, you know our doomsday list. Celina had on her list that she wanted to kiss a handsome stranger, so she did, and then we had to get the hell out of there, because they came running out after us.”
He looked at the picture of Flaco and said, “Shit, she kissed this guy? She thought this guy was handsome? Oh my God, Valeria, what the hell is going on with you two!” He frowned and his jaw clenched.
“No. No, she didn’t kiss him. It was some other guy. We didn’t even see this guy that night.” She pointed. A shudder raked through her body upon seeing the unattractive guy in the picture. “We saw this guy at Danny’s.” She pointed her finger to the picture.
He shook his head, after releasing a big sigh. “What is the name of the club?”
Running her fingers through her hair, she tried to narrow down the choices in her head. “Wait, I'm trying to think. Uh… uh… the Classic, the Classic Rock Club.”
He grabbed the pictures and began to walk out, when Valeria shouted, “Wait, no it's the Blue Rock Night Club.”
Just a Kiss Page 12