Dangerous Choice KO PL

by Barbara Freethy

  "I feel much better, too. Do you think I could make a call on the phone you got me?"

  "Who do you want to call?" he asked quickly, his gaze sharpening.

  "My parents. I try to check in with them every few days, and they might start to worry if my phone is off."

  "You can call them. Just don't tell them where you are. The less they know, the better."

  "I agree."

  She felt a little awkward making the call with Diego sitting right there, so she took the phone and sat down on the bed. It rang a couple of times and then her mom answered.

  "Hi, Mom. It's me."

  "Tara? Where are you calling from? I don't recognize the number."

  "My phone broke. That's why I wanted to call you—in case you were trying to reach me."

  "Your dad tried earlier and said he thought your phone was off. Is this your new number?"

  "No, it's only temporary. I'm going to try to get my old number back, but for now, you can reach me on this number."

  "I don't recognize the area codes. Where are you?"

  "I'm still in Mexico," she lied.

  "But I thought you were coming back days ago."

  "I'm having too much fun," she said, forcing a happy note into her voice. "You and Dad always tell me I should have more fun, right?"

  "Well, that's true. But isn't spring break over?"

  "I took a few extra days."

  "Honey, I have something to tell you."

  She stiffened at the tone in her mom's voice. "What? It's not Dad's heart, is it?"

  "No. No. Nothing like that. Brian called us yesterday. He wanted to get in touch with you. I told him I would give you his number and let you know that he wished to speak to you, but that was all."

  "Brian?" she echoed. "I haven't heard from him in five years."

  "I know he broke your heart. And I would caution you not to go down that road again."

  "I have no intention of getting involved with Brian again."

  "Well, good. I didn't want to tell you, because I know how much pain you were in after the breakup, but we've never lied to each other."

  Guilt ran through her at that comment. She'd done nothing but lie to her parents since Bethany had disappeared. "I'm glad you told me. I should go. I'll call you when I get a chance. I'm going to be traveling in some areas that don't have great reception, so don't worry if you can't get a hold of me."

  "It sounds like you're having an adventure."

  "You could say that. I love you, Mom. Tell Dad I love him, too."

  "I will. Have fun. You deserve it, Tara. You so rarely let loose. I'm glad you decided to give yourself a break."

  "Me, too. Bye."

  As she disconnected the call, she felt a wave of homesickness and another rush of fear that her choice to come here could hurt a lot of people, especially her parents. If something happened to her, they'd be devastated. It was one reason she'd always been so careful—the stress of being the only child.

  Diego got up from the table and came around the bed, taking a seat on the mattress facing her. "Don't think about it."

  "You don't know what I'm thinking about."

  "You're thinking that you could have died today and instead of you calling your parents, someone else might have contacted them, might have had to tell them you were injured or dead."

  She blew out a breath. "Okay, you do know what I'm thinking about. I lied to them, Diego. I feel badly about it. I want to protect them, but maybe I'm not being fair to them."

  "You can go home tomorrow, Tara."

  "But then no one would look for Bethany."

  "I would."

  "For how long?" she challenged. "I know you'd try to find Bethany. But once you hit a wall, would it end there? You have your own job, your own problems to get to. I wouldn't blame you for wanting to get back to your life. I have to stay—at least for a while longer."

  "Okay. Then I have to ask you one more question."

  "What's that?"

  "Who is Brian?"

  Six

  Tara flushed at his question, and she gave a nervous swipe of her lips, before she answered. She didn't really want to talk to Diego about her past. On the other hand, he'd been forthcoming with her about his family. Besides that, the interested look in his eyes told her he wasn't going to drop the question until he got an answer.

  "Brian was a man I dated in college—actually the relationship lasted from age twenty to twenty-three. We broke up five years ago."

  "Why?"

  "He had a job offer in London. He wanted me to go with him, but I had a teaching position in LA, and I wanted to stay in California. Neither of us was willing to compromise."

  "Then you didn't love each other enough."

  "That's probably true. It wasn't just the jobs that separated us. Brian didn't like how unadventurous I was."

  "You?" he asked in surprise.

  "I told you—this isn't the real me. I'm a very boring person. I've always been afraid to take chances. I think it started when I was a little girl. My parents got pregnant after me, but my mom lost the baby at six months. I remember her sitting in the baby's room crying and crying for days on end. I was seven at the time. I guess they had tried a long time to get pregnant, and the loss was terrible."

  She paused, as the vivid memories played through her mind. "I remember telling her not to cry because she had me, and I was never going to leave. And she hugged me so tight, I almost couldn't breathe. She said she loved me and that she never wanted me to leave, either. I know it sounds silly, but that conversation kind of formed my life. When other kids were rock climbing, I was reading. I lived my adventures in books. I didn’t want to take any chances that might take me away from the people I loved and who loved me. Anyway, Brian decided that he wanted someone who was more willing to take risks, so he left."

  "Why is he calling you now?"

  "I don't know."

  "Maybe he realized there's a lot more to you than whether or not you want to jump off a cliff."

  "I definitely don't want to jump off a cliff," she said lightly. "That sounds terrifying."

  "Running from bullets and escaping a kidnapper is terrifying, too, but you handled yourself well. I don't think you give yourself enough credit, Tara. Real strength comes in the face of adversity. When your friend's life is on the line, you step up. You took a huge risk coming here."

  "And I'm so out of my depth, I'd be drowning if it wasn't for you."

  "That's not true. I know what survival instinct looks like, and I saw it in you when you fought for your life."

  She was more than a little flattered by the admiration in his eyes. She'd gotten so used to thinking of herself in a certain way that it was difficult to change. It hadn't been only Brian who'd thought she was too safe. Her friends, Bethany in particular, had often teased her about the choices she made. But this man, who barely knew her, saw something in her that no one else did. She didn't really have any words, so she settled for one. "Thanks."

  "You're welcome."

  Their gazes held together for a beat too long, and some other emotion passed between them. She felt a shiver run down her spine, and it had nothing to do with fear, but everything to do with attraction.

  Why now? Why at this worst possible time did she meet a man whose words filled her with emotion and whose smile made her palms sweat?

  Diego cleared his throat, as if he also needed to break the tension. "I'm going to brush my teeth."

  "Sure," she said, not sure how to feel about his abrupt movement from the bed to the bathroom.

  Relieved, she told herself; you should feel relieved!

  The last thing she needed to do was add another complication to this already impossible situation.

  She climbed under the covers and turned on the television. She needed something to take her mind off Diego and the fact that they were going to spend the night together. She was definitely not the kind of woman who jumped into bed with a man she barely knew…

  * * *r />
  Diego stared at himself in the mirror, frowning at his swollen eye, but it wasn't really his bruised face that was bothering him—it was Tara. They'd gotten very close very fast. He'd told her more about the night his father had taken him away from his mother than he'd ever told anyone. And in that telling, he'd had to relive some of it, which had also been difficult.

  And now she'd told him about herself in a way that had made him want to strangle her last boyfriend and tell her parents and Bethany that they needed to see Tara for who she really was.

  And who was that?

  A stubborn, determined woman willing to risk everything for her friend. And she was jaw-droppingly pretty, too. Her eyes changed with her feelings from deep, dark, shadowy blue to a lighter, sparkling, fiery blue. And it wasn't just her eyes that captivated him: it was her beautiful features, her feminine curves, the way she licked her lips and pulled at her necklace when she was nervous.

  Man, he was in trouble. He'd noticed way too much about her. And she'd given him a look a few minutes ago…a look that had taken him out of mission mindset and into the idea of personal fun and games. But that would be reckless and impulsive and complicate things.

  They needed to stay focused.

  There were people after them, and they would strike again, because whatever they wanted, they didn't have. The attack outside the bar had definitely not been about killing Tara or himself. It had been about taking them somewhere, perhaps using them as leverage.

  But leverage for what? What the hell had Bethany gotten herself into?

  They needed a better strategy going forward. Tara had made all her decisions based on emotion and fear. That had to change. They had to be smarter.

  Finding Bethany, dealing with her situation, was going to take him away from his search for Mateo, and that bothered him. But Bethany was in immediate danger, as was Tara. He might be in danger as well because he was with Tara. So, he'd deal with this problem first. Mateo had been missing for a long time. What was a few more days?

  He changed out of his jeans into a pair of sweats, brushed his teeth and took a minute to get his head together.

  When he returned to the bedroom, Tara had settled into her bed and was watching a rerun of Friends in Spanish. He pulled back the comforter and stretched out on the other bed.

  When the show ended, the news came on. They both watched for some mention of the shooting in Cascada, but there was nothing. The show was mostly focused on what was happening in Medellin.

  "Do you want me to keep the TV on?" Tara asked.

  "You can turn it off, if you want."

  She did so, plunging the room into darkness.

  He closed his eyes, trying to sleep, knowing he needed to rest, because who knew what was coming tomorrow? But he still felt wired.

  He heard Tara shift in her bed, back and forth, obviously also having difficulty sleeping. Her mind was probably racing with fear for Bethany and also for herself.

  "Do you want to talk?" he asked. "It doesn't sound like you're sleeping."

  "Sorry. These bedsprings creak a lot."

  "You're not bothering me, but if you have something to say, go for it."

  "I feel wound up," she replied. "I don't know how to let all my worry go. And I'm afraid to fall asleep. What if someone tracks us here? What if they come after us? What if they burst through that door with guns firing?"

  She was working herself up, caught on a loop of terrifying what-ifs.

  "I think we're safe tonight," he told her. "Tomorrow, I'm going to get a weapon, so we won't be so vulnerable."

  "How are you going to do that?"

  "Lucas said he could hook me up in the morning. He'll text me where to go."

  "I've never liked guns, but I find myself feeling pretty happy that you're going to get one."

  "Me, too."

  "I can't imagine pulling the trigger, shooting someone dead. The gunshots earlier are still ringing through my head. I wonder how long it will take to forget them."

  "Probably longer than you would like."

  "You always tell the truth, don't you?"

  "Not always. Lying can be a necessary part of my job."

  "Do you work undercover?"

  "Often, yes."

  "So you can be whoever you need to be? Isn't that difficult? Do you ever forget who you really are?"

  "Sometimes my real life starts to feel very far away," he admitted. "But I've never gone so deep for so long that I've lost my way. Most of my assignments end within a few weeks or months at the most."

  "It sounds like an exciting job, traveling the world, pretending to be someone you're not."

  He smiled to himself. "It has its moments, but you'd be surprised how much time is spent waiting and watching. It can be lonely, too. You don't have any support when you're under. You can't let people get close, because it could blow your cover."

  "That's true. I've missed talking to my parents this week, and we only went a few days between calls."

  "I can't imagine that kind of closeness with a parent."

  "Like I said earlier, we're a tight unit. We've always been crazy about each other. When I went to college in San Diego, it was the first time we hadn't lived in the same city. I think the break was good for all of us, though. They ended up moving to Santa Barbara, and I wound up teaching in San Clemente. We're both in beach cities but about three hours apart, depending on LA traffic. Still, we manage to get together at least twice a month for a Sunday barbecue, and we talk all the time, especially since my dad has had some heart problems. It made me realize how precious time is."

  He could hear the longing in her voice, and wished he felt even a hundredth of that kind of love for his father, but he didn't feel anything.

  He turned over onto his side. His eyes had adjusted to the light, and he could see her in the shadowy glow from the split in the curtains at the window. She had also rolled onto her side and was now facing him.

  "I'm sure I'm boring you," she said.

  "Not at all. I'm happy to talk about your family. It's a nice change from the dysfunctional people who make up my bloodline."

  "Do you ever speak to your father?"

  "Not in the last couple of years and before that, only very rarely."

  "Was your mother from Colombia?"

  "No. She was born in Lima, Peru. But her parents immigrated to the US when she was about six. After she married my dad, her parents returned to Lima to take care of her grandparents, so they weren't around when I was growing up. I knew next to nothing about that side of the family, but when I started searching for my mom, I began in Peru."

  "Were your grandparents still alive?"

  "No, the older generation had passed on by then, but I met some second cousins. They said when my mother came back with her son, she stayed with her father for several weeks, but she was unhappy with his lack of support. He kept telling her go back to America, that he couldn’t take care of her, and she should make things up with her husband. Eventually she left Peru. The family thought she had returned to the States, but, clearly, she did not. I don't know how she got to Colombia. I'm hoping Mateo will be able to tell me when I find him."

  "I'm sorry my situation is delaying your search."

  "It's only been a few hours since I found out my mom died and that she married into the Salazar family. It's probably just as well I have some time to wrap my head around things. Right now, I want to focus on keeping us safe and finding Bethany first and then Mateo."

  "I'm very happy with that plan. Let's talk about something else. How did you get into the FBI? Were you recruited?"

  "I was. I worked in Army intelligence after graduating from West Point. When my tour was up, the FBI suggested I might want to work for them, and I agreed. I thought I would have more opportunity there. I've been an agent almost five years now."

  "And you like it?"

  "I do. I've had the opportunity to work in different parts of the world, especially South America, which also gave me a chance to lo
ok for my mother and brother—unsuccessfully, of course."

  "Your last name is Rivera. Is your dad also from South America?"

  "No. His family came from Spain three generations ago, so aside from the Hispanic last name and Latin looks, he's American in every way. He doesn't even speak Spanish."

  "What does your father do for work?"

  "He runs a hedge fund in New York now. He's very wealthy and lives a comfortable life. He has never remarried, but he's been living with a woman the last six years. She's a divorced socialite. Her family made a fortune in organic cereals. They travel a great deal." He paused. "I don't think you told me what your parents do."

  "My dad is a college professor at UC Santa Barbara. He taught at Loyola for a long time when I was growing up, and then they decided to get out of the crowded LA area and move farther north. My mom teaches kindergarten and works in the school library. She's very big on reading and books."

  "Teaching is in your blood."

  "It is. Or as Bethany would say, I just did what my parents expected me to do."

  "Sounds like Bethany could be a little judgmental."

  "We could definitely criticize each other's choices, but there was always love behind the words."

  "What made you decide to teach Spanish?"

  "I love the language. I went to a Spanish Immersion elementary school. I did a summer study in Mexico in college, but I always wanted to see South America. That's why I decided I would try out for the tour guide job when Bethany told me I could just do it in the summers. I thought I could have the best of both worlds. But now…I don't think I'll be taking that job. Actually, I don't know if I'll be able to keep my teaching job if I take too much time off. My principal is not the most supportive person. But I can't worry about any of that now."

  "I'm sure you could get another job if you had to."

  "I'm sure, too." Her words ended on a yawn.

  He smiled. "You're getting tired."

  "I'm not feeling so stressed now. Sorry if I've been talking your ear off. I don't usually ramble on like this, especially to a stranger."

  "We're sharing a hotel room; I'd hardly call us strangers."

  "That's true. I feel like I could sleep now. What about you?"