by Amy Jarecki
No sooner had he leaned forward to look over the bar for a straw long enough or maybe some medical tubing when the door creaked open. Luke didn’t need to glance over his shoulder to see who’d come in. The hair standing up on the back of his neck told him, so did the damned flutter in his gut and the miserable tingling across his shoulders.
Bloody hell, can’t a man enjoy a piss-up in peace?
“Hola.” Mia tiptoed inside like she was afraid she might wake someone. “Mind if I join you?”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
She slid behind the bar and picked up a glass. “What are you drinking? Tequila?”
“Vodka. Rocks. Lime.”
Keeping her eyes lowered, she mixed two drinks the same and put one in front of Luke.
“Ta.”
She didn’t reply to his lazy thank you, but came around and sat beside him.
Luke tried not to watch out of the corner of his eye while she squeezed her lime and stirred with the cocktail straw then took a sip. “Mm. It’s strong.”
“Hmm,” he managed not about to tell her to let the ice melt a bit if she didn’t like it so strong. She could figure that out on her own like she did everything else. “How’s training with Henri?” Christ, he could have kicked himself for asking.
“Okay, I guess. She’s cool.”
“Huh.”
“But not as cool as you.”
The goddamned gut fluttering could stop now. Luke swirled his vodka and took a long drink. She wasn’t about to win him over with lame compliments no matter how his body parts responded.
“Um…I owe you an apology. I—ah—well, I didn’t intend to talk to Garth after we had our argument.”
“Oh really? You just marched straight to the Command Center to do what? Watch a monitor filming an empty building somewhere in Syria?”
“No. I didn’t even mean to go there. I just started walking and when I got to the end of the hall I went inside. I wasn’t even thinking about talking to the CO. I was mad—consumed with how upset I was because you refused to understand me.”
“Right, so it’s my fault. Always is.” Luke tightened his fingers around his glass, ready to throw it at the mirror behind the bar.
“I didn’t say that. I was upset—thinking with my feelings rather than reason. I just went inside and before I could turn around, Garth had me sit down and tell him…tell him everything.”
“Well, you did a mighty fine job of spinning your bloody yarn.”
“Sorry.”
“No worries. You bought me a few days of R & R.”
Gulping, she looked down at her cocktail and turned it between her fingers. “I know I haven’t appeared to always act trustworthy, but—”
“Appeared?” Luke had about as much as he could take. He swiveled and faced her. “Try this: You have not acted trustworthy at all. Good God, you must have been born with razor fingernails because I’m always pulling your daggers out of my back.”
She blinked—her face taking on a blank canvas she used with Morales. But Luke expected more—expected excuses. Was the brick wall her only response to his tirade? Jesus, when she met his gaze with “the stare”, giving her a piece of his mind didn’t make him feel anywhere near the gratification it should have. If she were a man, he could haul off and have a good barney. Smack him in the teeth and that would be the end of it. But, no, the damned woman had to be female.
She pushed the drink away. “Please, let me get this out before morning.”
So, two could play up the sarcasm? He rolled his hand through the air. “The floor is yours, madam.”
White lines formed around her lips while she inhaled. “It seems like I don’t always make the right decisions. I want to, but imagine what it’s like to be in my shoes for a moment.”
Luke finished his drink and started on the one she’d made. “That’s a little difficult given our difference in anatomy, but carry on.” He might be letting her have her say, but he definitely didn’t want her to feel comfortable about it.
“It’s hard to put into words—especially English words. You see, I feel like my life came to an end when I was six years old. After my abduction, I kind of stopped growing up.”
“I’ll say.” He reached over the bar, plucked the Stoli bottle and added more vodka.
“Maybe I deserved that, but I’m the first person who will admit I have a lot of maturing to do. Now please—just let me finish.” She crossed her arms and inhaled sharply. “During the early years, all I could think about was getting enough food and staying alive. Then when El Padrino bought me, I faced a new kind of hell. You even said it’s hell in a gilded prison.”
Luke nodded. Mia wasn’t wrong.
“It was a prison and I lived in a vacuum, afraid to be myself.”
“You acted like your life was scripted.” He drank, savoring the sharp alcohol as it burned its way down his throat.
“Yes, and then you flew me away. I thought leaving the hacienda would be liberating…but it was terrifying. Everything happened so fast. And the whole time we’ve been at ICE, it’s like I’ve been treading water as fast as I can in a hopeless attempt to make up for all the years I missed—to become the person I was meant to be.”
Luke swiped a hand down his face. Yeah, he didn’t doubt she was going through major shock.
“You had a normal life,” she continued. “You went to school and college and joined the Air Force. You were never forced to beg and lie and steal—and—and then be given to a vile man you could never respect.”
Taking in a deep breath, Luke squeezed his abs against the roiling in his gut. He knew what her past was like—and he couldn’t imagine it. All those years without support—formative years, too. Years when she should have been taking ballet lessons and learning to play catch with her dad. He tightened his fingers around his glass. No question, he felt sorry for her, but feeling sorry and trusting someone were two very different things. “I’m sure it must be hard for you, which is why I said you weren’t ready—I still don’t think you’re ready to go back into the fire with Morales.”
“Maybe not, but I found out you knew Garth was planning to send me back all along.”
He nodded. He did know and he’d kept it to himself.
“I swear to you, next time I’ll think clearer. I know I should have thought about how you’d be affected before I acted, and I didn’t. Next time I will. I promise.”
“No, sweetheart, you won’t because there won’t be a next time.”
She gasped. “Aren’t you going with me?”
“I’ll do whatever needs doing, but once this op is over, I’m done.” He pushed the stool away from the bar and stood. “I regret what’s happened to you, and I hope you are reunited with your family. You need to find a good psychologist and go back to school. Find something you really want to do—something where you won’t risk your life every time you walk outside.”
Without another word, Luke strode straight to the door and pushed into the hallway. He didn’t usually feel cooped up at ICE but, right now, being forty-five meters under a glacier made his skin crawl. He needed fresh air, preferably warm fresh air. If only he could go to Australia for a holiday and spend a week parasailing—chasing girls in King’s Cross—sailing Sydney Harbour—anything to take his mind off how damned beautiful Mia looked and how damned convincing she sounded.
***
Mia’s throat constricted as she stared at the closed door, willing Luke to come back, willing him to return and cup her face in his big, warm hands and tell her he forgives her. God, her heart would soar with joy to see him smile at her with happiness in those sky-blue eyes, lower his lips to hers and kiss her. She would wrap her arms around him and never let go. She’d tell him how much he’d come to mean to her. How much she admired him. How much she adored him.
Please come back.
Her lips stretched into a teeth-baring cringe as she clutched her hands tight against her chest, willing herself not to cry.
&n
bsp; When he didn’t return, a tear did slip down her cheek. Furious with herself, she swiped it away.
He hates me.
And why wouldn’t he? Everything was fine until she had to open her mouth. Luke was doing a good job with her training. And he was a lot more fun to spar with than Henri. He mightn’t have been intimate since they’d come to ICE, but he’d be super careful to ensure he didn’t hurt her when they were on the mat. He always treated her like a lady and made her feel respected. There were all those long looks containing a hundred emotions merging their souls like an electrical current. And now she’d gone and blown it.
I’m such an idiot.
So many times at Hacienda Paraiso Mia had swallowed her anger and kept it to herself. And then as soon as she felt an iota of freedom, she’d let her temper get the better of her. One stupid moment of anger and she’d messed things up beyond repair.
Henri said if Luke couldn’t forgive her, then they weren’t meant to be. Mia couldn’t blame him. No, no, the fault was entirely hers. The worst part? When he walked out that door, it was like he reached into her chest, ripped her heart out and took it with him.
He made me strong. He made me believe in myself. And I ruined everything.
If it weren’t for Luke, she would still be in Mexico living in fear—she might have even been captured by Amado Zambada. Luke was the reason she was free. Luke was the reason she was in Iceland learning so many new things—learning that she was somebody and she had the power to stop an attack from Vincent Morales. In a couple of weeks, she’d learned how to fire weapons, disarm an attacker with a knife and, best of all, she’d learned how to use a computer.
She loved computers. She loved being able to access multitudes of information. She loved being a part of an organization that worked for good.
Picking up her vodka and lime, she sipped through the straw. “I like it here.”
The alcohol zipped through her bloodstream and made her head woozy. Or was it Luke’s words sinking in? After the op, he’d take her home and walk away. She’d never see him again. The friends she’d made at ICE would be like people from a dream.
I don’t want that.
She set the cocktail down and pushed it away. Please God, help me show Luke I’m good enough. Help me to prove my worth. I cannot mess up again!
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Vincent Morales liked hiding in plain sight. In fact, he’d owned the unpretentious house outside Puerto Vallarta for years. It was comfortable enough, though he did tire of playing an old man. As far as the villagers knew, he was a retired agave farmer. His acres had been bought out by a big corporation for a pittance and all he could afford was the little adobe house with two bedrooms. At least it had a terrace that overlooked the ocean where he could sit and dream away his afternoons—though he did more stewing than dreaming.
In fact, he didn’t dream. He didn’t have time.
Now that Hacienda Paraiso was back under his control and his operations had successfully moved to secure sites, business again had settled down for the most part. Marco was running things at the hacienda, thank God. Vincent never should have trusted Lucas Lewis. The pilot may have saved his life, but the man was an outsider. Vincent had broken his own rule by giving the newcomer so much power.
And the bastard double-crossed him. When the hacienda was under attack, not only did he fly away like a coward, he took Mia with him. And the backstabber hadn’t been heard from since. But Vincent had his ways. He was a patient man. Sooner or later, Lewis would be spotted and Mia would return. And when he got her back, she would never leave again. Vincent had lain awake at night thinking of the ways he planned to strike fear in Mia’s heart—the ways he would make sure she knew where she belonged.
So, she wanted a moment of freedom? She wanted to enjoy spending time with a younger man? A blond Australian. Why wouldn’t a girl be interested in testing the water with a man who looked as buff and handsome as Lewis? But every day she evaded Vincent meant another day of suffering upon her return.
And she will be back.
But Lewis had found the tracker—that was obvious. He’d acted swiftly and dispatched two of his best men on the border, but they proved to be worthless. Lewis cut them down and disappeared with Mia and she hadn’t been on the grid since. If Andrea hadn’t reported that she’d caught them in an embrace, Vincent might think the bastard had abducted her. But after Marco conducted his interrogation, enough of his people had thought the pair might be having an affair. No, she was guilty whether or not she’d tried to call.
Vincent cracked his knuckles. Her reasons didn’t matter. Getting her back mattered.
But where did the Australian take her after they left Las Cruces? They didn’t use El Padrino’s plane. It was still being held by U.S. Customs. Oddly, she hadn’t tried to find her family. Yet. The Bradfords’ phones were bugged and Vincent had men watching their house in Ames. Still, he hadn’t given up hope of finding Mia there sooner or later. She always did pine for her mother. Eventually, she wouldn’t be able to stay away. But Vincent needed to find her before she revealed herself to her parents. He might be able to withstand an attack by Zambada. He might be able to weather the seizure of his shipments, but once Mia fell into the protective arms of her family, he’d have no choice but to kill them all. The only alternative was unthinkable. No, he wasn’t about to let Mia go forever.
She’s mine.
***
“With all due respect, sir, what you’re suggesting is asinine.”
“Oh, really, Wombat?” asked Garth while his eyes bugged out. “Have you brought your brain to this meeting?”
Luke’s jaw twitched. “Engaged, locked and loaded.”
“Then don’t keep it to yourself, flyboy. If you have something better, spew your guts before I do something you’ll regret.”
He ground his fist into the oblong sit room table. They’d been shut inside for two hours and he was already about to kill the CO. Too right, he respected Garth as much as the next guy, but he didn’t like someone who ran things from the safety of ICE suggesting a move that had disaster written all over it. Yeah, Garth might be right—his idea was the fastest way to bring Morales out of hiding, but he wasn’t thinking of the repercussions. So like a Marine. “I’d wager a whole year’s salary if Mia shows up in Ames, Vincent Morales will hear about it—”
“That’s what I’m saying!” Garth practically rocketed out of his seat.
Luke cleared his throat and stared Garth in the eye. “But Morales won’t just sneak in and nab Mia. He’d leave too much evidence. He’ll target her whole family.”
“Luke’s right,” Mia said, sitting beside him. “We can’t put my family in danger.”
Garth crossed his arms and leaned back. “All right. I’m listening. Tell me your idea, Einstein.”
“My guess is Morales isn’t that far away from home. The man had pretty major surgery not to mention he’s in terrible shape. My guess is he went undercover for the operation and hasn’t moved.”
“Traveling would bear a risk,” said Henri. “If anyone recognized him, we’d know about it.”
“That’s right.” Luke rapped his knuckles on the table, relieved to have a little support. “Let’s assume he’s still in Mexico. I think we should keep him there—leave the Bradfords out of it.”
Letting out a long breath that sounded like she’d been holding it for three minutes, Mia anxiously nodded her head.
Before anyone could jump in with a rebuttal, Luke continued. “I think Lucas Lewis ought to set up a charter plane venture for the moneybags vacationing in Acapulco and use Morales’ Gulfstream. If Mia plays the part of flight attendant, El Padrino will not only be slapped in the face, he’ll be backhanded, too.”
Garth rubbed his chin, his beetle-brows slanting over his hawkish eyes. “It’ll take longer to set up.”
“Jà,” said Asa. “We’ll need to make the business look legit—set up a booking office, print flyers.”
“Flyers
yes, but all the bookings could be done on the internet or phone.”
Asa held up a finger. “Of course, the first thing we’d do is set up a website.”
“And that will take you what? A couple hours?” asked Henri.
“I’m liking it.” Garth leaned forward on his elbows. “We could give it a whirl, but if it doesn’t bring Morales out of hiding within a few weeks, I’m pulling the pin and you pair are heading to Iowa.”
“In that case, put my picture on the website and the flyers.” Mia smiled for the first time since they sat down. “Let me be the poster child for the business.”
“Good idea.” Luke patted her leg before he thought. When a jolt of electricity shot up his arm, he snatched his hand away. “How about putting her picture on busses?”
“If Morales is in hiding, will he see busses?” asked Henri.
“I think so—maybe.” Mia drummed her fingers against her chin. “He might not see the internet. He doesn’t allow his employees to use computers.”
“But I’ll bet he uses one,” said Asa. “He’s just off the grid.”
“Does a TV commercial make sense?” Luke asked.
“Too expensive for a con who’s in Mexico trying to earn enough money to go home and live in the lap of luxury.” Garth’s eyebrows shot up as he focused on Mia. “But, what about banner ads at a soccer games? Does he watch sports?”
Mia’s eyes brightened. “He does and soccer is his favorite.”
“Then I think we have a plan.” Garth thrust his finger at Luke. “We’ll go with it for now. I’m giving you a month. If we don’t have any nibbles by then, I’m pulling the pin.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Would you like another whisky on the rocks before we land?” Mia asked the executive in the rear seat. He was the friendliest of the five men who boarded this charter from Seattle to Acapulco. They worked for a software firm and, according to the nice man, after their morning business meeting, they were looking forward to golfing in Mexico’s sunshine.