by Taylor Lee
When she frowned and started to speak, he pressed a strong finger against her lips. “But we aren’t going to let either of us do that, are we, baby?”
She nodded in agreement, pressing her cheek against his strong chest. She murmured, “Promise, Jax?”
He smiled and pinched her cheek. “Yeah, sweetheart, that’s a promise I’ll spend my life ensuring that we keep.”
She grinned up at him and said, “Ditto!”
****
Less than a week later, Viviana wondered with a pained sigh how both she and Jax could have been so naïve. How could they not have known that heaven could become hell if it wasn’t cared for and protected from the myriad forces out to corrupt it? Especially the self-imposed havoc they each carelessly rained on it.
Chapter 17
I presume you are aware, Sergeant Moreau, that three of my disciples were gunned down in the street last night. They were simply leaving a restaurant after sharing a repast with friends and leaving to go home to their wives and children.”
Viviana blew out an audible breath that bordered on a snort. “Let me put it this way, Manuel. There isn’t a single thing that you or your ‘disciples’ do that I’m not privy to. And as you are likely aware, my reach into the Diablos’ cesspool is as strong.”
The towering man’s frowning expression hardened, causing a scarlet flush to stain his warm brown cheeks. The anger flashing in his coal-black eyes should have frightened her. Instead, knowing that she’d gotten under the gangland honcho’s skin, Viviana was galvanized. At her impudent shrug, Manuel Ortiz’s deep voice softened, underscoring its razor-sharp edge. “May I conclude from your haughtiness, Sergeant, that you do not care that the Diablos are intent on starting a gang war?”
When Viviana put up her hands in a dismissive gesture, the glowering gang leader moved closer to her, as did the ominous cadre of Padrone henchmen surrounding her. His breath was hot on her cheek. “Can I assume that, at the very least, you and your squad will chase down the despicable animals who murdered three innocent men who were simply out for an evening of fellowship?”
Viviana barked a short laugh. “Let me put it this way, Manuel. My team and I are equal opportunity cops. You and the Diablos can set up a shooting gallery and pick each other off at will for all I care. However, one more civilian dies from the bad shit you guys are adding to your poisonous stash and the strong arm of the law will make you and your adversaries wish you’d been never been born.”
Glancing at the circle of grim-faced men surrounding them, Manuel said softly, “Are you threatening me, Sergeant Moreau? Perhaps before you answer, you might note that there are no fewer than twelve of my men between you and the door.”
Viviana shrugged. “While your gang is no doubt as powerful and as violent as the Diablos, my gang, the SJPD, shoots the whole damn bunch of you to shit.” She sniffed dismissively. “We’ll put ourselves up against the Diablos and the Padrone pussies any day.”
Ignoring the shocked gasps of his gang members, Manuel’s expression hardened further. His banked fury lent a ghostly glow to his gleaming eyes. His taunt was threateningly soft. “And that gang of yours, Sergeant, thinks that it can take us down, backed as we are by our various, shall we say, international colleagues?”
Viviana tossed her head and met his hard gaze with one of her own. “Damn straight.” She added with a tight grin, “To be clear. I’m here, Manuel, to warn you as I did Raphael Torres and his cadre of sycophants. One more civilian dies in your little schoolyard bullying fest, and you won’t believe the firestorm that rains down on the whole bunch of you. It will make Mount Vesuvius look like a summer shower.”
Backing toward the door, Viviana looked at her watch and assumed a bored expression. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for my afternoon scamper up Telegraph Pass.” She added with a saucy grin, “A girl has to watch her figure, especially if she’s as proud of her ass as I am.”
Manuel’s tight smile could have been carved in cement. His eyes blazed with rancor. “A consideration, Sergeant Moreau. My understanding is that many sections along that ten-mile mountainous trek are prone to voyeurs or those who may choose to do more than appreciate your infamous ass.”
Viviana laughed. “Sorry, Manuel, I’ve got it from the best authority that the head honcho of my gang has a thing for my superlative ass. In addition, it’s my understanding that he doesn’t share . . . or take kindly to interlopers.”
Heading for the door, Viviana flicked her fingers in a haughty wave and said with a grim smile tightening her lips, “Adios, Manuel. Oh, and don’t pretend that you haven’t been warned.”
****
“Jesus fucking Christ, boss man! What the hell are we going to do with her?” Mick’s ruddy face was lined with worry. “Damn, Jax, you know even if we hadn’t wired her up the wazoo, she would’ve taken on that whole damn bunch of hardened killers and spit in their faces the way she did.” He added with a grim laugh, “After she’d collected their cojones and chucked them into that sarcastic wood chipper wit of hers.”
Jax’s sigh was as heartfelt as Mick’s, but his eyes were dancing with a mix of humor and chagrin. He nodded to the incredulous detective and said with a shrug, “You of all people, Detective, know how outrageous and, I might add, how careless your partner is, at least when it comes to her own safety. And yes, it’s a damn good thing we have her under surveillance. These sophisticated gadgets Mat sent are the best I’ve seen. At least we were able to see and hear our inimitable sergeant take on a dozen murderous thugs and not only win the fracas, but leave them searching frantically for the balls they’d thought they had.”
Jax couldn’t help but be impressed with Viviana’s scorching confidence. She truly was willing to take anyone on, including a gang of hardened drug dealers. He shuddered, thinking how easily she could have been hurt or killed by the soulless mob. Even though their rescue team was steps away, she had no business scornfully taunting the despicable killers the way she did.
He chuckled to himself. If anyone knew how willing she was to taunt anyone, he did. She routinely did it to him. However, unlike the disbelieving gangbangers, he had a weapon none of them had or ever would have. By the power of his overwhelming arrogance, he’d managed to capture the irascible woman and, to a degree, control her. Granted, it had taken some long nights of hardcore loving and equally long days jerking her chain to convince her she could trust him enough to give in to him.
Watching her saunter to her flashy Mazda, Jax admitted that in the process of capturing the inimitable Enchantress, he’d fallen deeply, irreparably under her spell. Reliving the extraordinary night they’d spent on his yacht, he could almost forget where she was going. Despite what she’d told the stunned Padrones gang, the sexy woman in the body-skimming, bright red dress was not heading up Telegraph Pass for an arduous ten-mile solo run. Rather, as Jax was giving her last-minute instructions for her meet with the killer gang, Viviana had blithely disclosed that her second stop of the day was at the campaign headquarters of Enrique Vega. Better described as the arrogant asshole who was going to get his ass kicked.
****
“Right this way, Sergeant Moreau. I’m eager to introduce you to my senior staff. According to them, your arrival is the most exciting thing that has happened to our campaign to date. Isn’t that right, Nicolas?”
A slender Hispanic man with startling gray eyes stepped forward. With a graceful bow, he reached for Viviana’s hand and brought it to his lips. As surprising as the courtly gesture was, it was his charming words that captured her. “Ah, I always knew that Enrique was a man with great gifts. But I never believed that because of him, I would come as close to heaven as a rogue like me will ever get. To meet none other than the Enchantress herself.”
Enrique laughed in appreciation and turned to Viviana. “Meet Nicolas Garza, the wizard who runs my campaign. Don’t let his genteel mannerisms and humble sophistication fool you. Beneath that refined persona lives a hard-hearted, unscrupulous op
erator who does Niccolò Machiavelli proud. In fact, if any words describe Nicolas’s approach to politics, they were famously spoken by the master himself: ‘Politics have no relation to morals.’ ”
Nicolas lifted a cautioning hand. “Now, now, Enrique. You mustn’t run off the lovely sergeant when I’ve barely had a chance to ingratiate myself in her estimation.”
Viviana smiled at the handsome man, who winked at her, making it clear that Machiavelli’s harsh dictum was one he lived by. She couldn’t help but be charmed by his audacity. Always willing to up the ante, particularly with arrogant men, she said, “I’m impressed that you know the true nature of the enterprise you’re engaged in, Mr. Garza. It’s an unusual politician who admits that politics and morality are rarely connected. I have a feeling that you might also ascribe to my favorite saying from the unscrupulous strategist. As Machiavelli said, ‘I’m not interested in preserving the status quo. I want to overthrow it.’ ”
Both Enrique and Nicolas roared with laughter. Wiping at his eyes, Enrique turned to his campaign manager. “Didn’t I tell you she is something? Not only stunningly beautiful, but she’s also wise in the ways of the world.”
Nicolas nodded in agreement and added with a sly smile, “And apparently more than willing to take that world on. I imagine, Sergeant Moreau, that you have never hesitated to go after miscreants who think that a beautiful woman can’t also be a vicious one.”
Viviana shrugged. “You are correct. Unfortunately, ‘miscreants’ is too tame a word to describe the disgusting human sludge in my crosshairs. They are the vermin, both men and women, who prey on helpless children and adults. Either by sexually abusing them or corrupting them with vicious drugs. Poisons that, if they don’t kill them outright, addict and imprison them for life.”
Enrique agreed with a troubled frown. Eyeing Nicolas, he said, “You can see why I’m hopeful that we can convince the Enchantress to campaign with us. If ever there was a respected spokesperson against the abuse and degradation of women as well as the destruction wreaked by illicit drugs, it is the Enchantress.”
“That she is, Enrique.” Turning to Viviana, Garza said thoughtfully, “You have been a true crusader, madam, and we would be honored to have you support our campaign. As you come to know Enrique better, you will understand that his passion comes from hard-earned personal experience.”
Enrique must have seen her interest and grabbed the opportunity to explain. “Nicolas and I grew up in a challenging area of San Diego’s Barrio Logan—specifically Chicano Park. We were a stone’s throw away from Tijuana, which provided all the enticements that young boys looking for trouble could find. Although as an adult, I’m aware that while we bragged that we ruled the world, in truth, the gangs and their enforcers ruled us. We were lucky to escape that challenging cesspit. Personally, I credit Nicolas for being strong enough to escape and bringing me with him.”
Viviana was aware that Nicolas was studying her as if considering her reaction before he answered. He must have seen her receptiveness, because he quickly challenged Enrique. “No, my friend, if anyone got us out of that hellhole, it was you. As always, you were the leader in whatever venture we found ourselves in. It was as true when we were kids trying to escape the poisonous allure of the barrio as it is now, when you are about to become the governor of the great state of California. Which I might add will be an unheard of accomplishment for a former Po-bean cholo.”
At a soft knock on the door, Viviana looked over to see a striking Hispanic woman enter. That she was small, almost dainty, should have made her entrance less commanding. Rather, it underscored the perfection of her face and lithe body. Her jet-black hair was caught up on top of her head in a sophisticated twist anchored by jeweled combs. Her wide-spaced, coal-black eyes shone beneath a lush curtain of thick eyelashes and beautifully arched brows. A rosy glow on her high cheekbones contrasted with her warm brown skin. As if her face weren’t lovely enough, her perfectly proportioned body spoke to a mix of athletic muscles and soft curves that bordered on perfection. The only downside of the gorgeous creature was the strained expression tightening her face when she saw Viviana.
Enrique strode toward her, grasped both of her hands, and planted a quick kiss on her cheek. Seemingly ignoring her aggrieved frown, he turned to Viviana with a broad grin. “Forget Nicolas and my bragging about how we overcame great odds to make it to where we are today. In truth, the reason that we have a ghost of a chance to win this election is not due to my arrogance, although it sure as hell is an advantage. No, we owe our success to this extraordinary woman. My wife is a genius at sorting through the vagaries of the political landscape and choosing precisely the right path for us to follow. The fact that she is gorgeous and sexy as hell doesn’t hurt either. For some surprising reason, she agreed to marry me, which for as long as I’ve known her, is the only foolish thing she has done.”
Nicolas nodded in agreement, his lip quirking in the biting smile that Viviana was coming to associate with him. In an odd way, it was kin to the half-smile on the beautiful woman’s face as she acknowledged Viviana. She said in a soft, melodic voice, “My, my. We truly are honored. I knew that Enrique was out to capture you—in the best sense of the word, of course. But I wasn’t sure if even my accomplished husband could entice the Enchantress into our midst.” Reaching for Viviana’s hand, she shook it firmly, then said, “How do you do? I’m Sonia Vega, Enrique’s wife.”
Viviana breathed a covert sigh of relief. In that instant, she knew that the lovely woman was as threatened by her as Jax was by her husband. That knowledge was reassuring. Since she was twelve years old, Viviana had been handling green-eyed women who saw her as a threat. And she had as much faith in Jax as she did in herself. As annoyed as he was at the moment and as smashing as Enrique was, there was no question who’d win the “whose is bigger” contest between the artful pol and her arrogant lover. Understanding the lay of the land as well as any of the players on it, Viviana shot the hard-eyed woman a blinding smile and said coolly, “I’m delighted to meet you, Sonia.”
She caught Nicolas’s half-wink that he quickly squashed, confirming that at least one of them was on to her.
Chapter 18
Viviana looked out at the sea of people crowding around them on the steps of the campaign headquarters. As strange as it seemed, the women, particularly the young girls in the crowd, seemed as interested in her as they were in their candidate. Although every time Enrique smiled or met their eager gazes, one or two of them practically swooned in excitement.
“Okay, ladies and gentlemen. All of you know that I will never break a campaign promise. Unlike a lot of other politicians—make that almost all of them—”
His supporters interrupted his gibe with catcalls and excited laughter. Enrique held up his hand. “Now, now, remember, we are running a positive campaign, so I won’t spend time on my opponents. But . . . ” He paused dramatically, then said with a cockeyed grin, “Tell me this: how many candidates do you know who said that they could get the single most famous cop in this state to campaign with them?” The crowd roared in excitement. “And who did it?” At the roars from the crowd, Enrique’s smile split his face. He held out his hand to Viviana, who’d been standing off to the side with Nicolas and Sonia. A little surprised that he didn’t first acknowledge his wife, whose practiced smile could have chipped diamonds, Viviana gave in, accepted Enrique’s hand, and allowed him to pull her to the center of the stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce, straight from galaxies far, far away, none other than the Enchantress herself!”
In the excited din that followed his introduction, Viviana couldn’t help but be impressed. Good grief, she was an admitted media darling, a role that she’d carefully cultivated. But seeing the horde of reporters and cameramen sprinkled throughout the excited crowd, she was impressed. Granted, Enrique was running for governor, which was a big deal no matter how you looked at it. But the number of media representatives shoving their way to the f
ront of the eager supporters was truly noteworthy. A little shiver of apprehension flitted up her spine. Remembering Jax’s assertion that the ambitious candidate was piggybacking off her notoriety, she conceded there was truth to his claim. But that was nothing new. Face it, a lot of people, worthy and unworthy, had tried to use her fame to bolster a campaign or an issue. After her lengthy conversation this afternoon with Enrique, she’d decided there were a lot less worthy causes wanting her approval than those driving the dashing gubernatorial candidate.
****
Earlier, after she and Sonia spent several minutes making careful small talk with one another, Enrique grasped her hand, pulling her close to him. His face alight with enthusiasm, he said, “I know how tiring it must be that so many people want a piece of you.” He added with a self-effacing grin, “I’m beginning to understand the wear and tear that being a star can do to one’s equilibrium, as you, of all people, must know.” He put up his hands imploringly and said, “Given that my campaign staff is waiting in the conference room, barely able to contain their excitement, how about it, Enchantress? Can you make some young people’s day? Make that their week—hell, their year!”
Viviana laughed. “Yes, Enrique, being a star does have its pitfalls. But at least for me, my notoriety—as my detractors call my ‘stardom,’ is a price I gladly pay for the attention it brings to the issues that I care deeply about.”
Enrique agreed. “Exactly, Viviana. That is precisely why I am eager to have you support my campaign. And why that crowd of young people down the hall is counting the minutes until they get to meet one of their true heroines in person.”
Viviana conceded that Enrique had not overstated his campaign staff’s enthusiasm. Walking into the large conference room filled primarily with young people, she was surprised at the outflowing of enthusiasm. The applause from the group lasted for several minutes. At first, Viviana was taken back. She hoped that this enthusiastic group understood that she was not a member of the campaign. Being as intuitive as he apparently was, Viviana was grateful when Nicolas stepped in front of her.