Laws of Attraction

by Diana Duncan

  In stark masculine contrast to the feminine environment, but appearing completely at ease, Dallas lounged in a white upholstered chair reading a sports magazine, mile-long legs stretched in front of him. He sported a slight five o’clock shadow at nine in the morning, only making his ruggedly virile face more handsome.

  Mia returned to her Beetle. She focused on passing traffic, striving to block the taunting mental image of Dallas’s strong hands stroking Soledad’s lush body. Of his scrumptious mouth, eagerly roving—

  Oh hell to the no.

  She switched on the radio and scanned through four cavity-inducing love ballads before she found a rock song.

  After what felt like an eternity, which in reality was a little over ninety minutes, the dazzling duo emerged, with Soledad sporting a radiant complexion, flattering understated makeup, and a glossy plum pedicure.

  Mia tailed them to a trendy shopping district. Parking a half block behind the Ferrari, she watched Dallas and Soledad stroll into a clothing boutique.

  By now, the two cups of coffee and the sodas had caught up with her in a big way. She shifted on the seat. This surveillance stuff wasn’t nearly as glamorous as it looked in the movies. Where was Vin Diesel when a gal needed him?

  Mia crossed her legs. She was in a world of hurt.

  Desperate means required desperate measures.

  She got out of the car. After an excruciating wait, she joined a quartet of chattering women and slipped inside the boutique. Crowded with clothes, shoes and accessories, the store offered lots of hidden nooks and crannies.

  Lurking behind a display of evening gowns, Mia squirmed. Now if she could only find the bathroom.

  Ah, there! Mia wove between clothing racks to a discreet rear door painted with flowery letters. She rushed inside, noting the polished granite counters, gold fixtures and marble floor as she flew through one of the stall doors.

  She’d finished her business and was just about to leave the stall, when the outer door swooshed. Tapping high heels signaled the arrival of company. The stall door beside her slammed shut, and Mia bent to peek at the floor. The graceful feet in strappy sandals and plum polish looked very familiar.

  Uh oh. She needed to get out ahead of Soledad. If Mia let the other woman exit first, Soledad and Dallas could leave the boutique, and Mia would lose them.

  She abandoned her stall, then stopped short. Soledad had left her purse beside the sink. Really dumb. Anybody could—

  She hesitated. Did she dare sneak a peek?

  Soledad’s personal account info and telephone contacts could be a godsend. At this point, Mia couldn’t afford moral boundaries. Soledad’s father was connected to the men who’d ruined her.

  Mia tiptoed to the counter, snagged the handbag’s chain handle and eased it closer. The chain slipped, clanked lightly against the granite. She froze.

  “Is someone there?” Soledad asked. The stall door creaked.

  Damn! Mia hurriedly cracked the exit door several inches to be sure Dallas wasn’t watching before slipping out to the sales floor. She ducked into an alcove filled with hats where she was hidden, but could observe the store behind her in the gilded mirror.

  Moments later, Soledad emerged and sought out McQuade. “Dallas,” she cooed in that babe-alicious voice. “I think someone tried to steal my handbag. I heard a noise and called out. When I exited, I found my bag near the edge of the counter.”

  Mia held her breath. If McQuade made a complaint, or decided to search the place, she’d never escape.

  “Are you positive, Señorita Soledad?”

  “Well…” The other woman hesitated, glanced around the store. “I saw a woman’s tacky plaid sneakers as she quickly departed the restroom, but I do not see anyone here with the same awful shoes.”

  Mia wrinkled her nose. Shoe snob.

  “Señorita, nobody has left the store since you went inside the Ladies’ Room. And we don’t have due cause to roust the other shoppers.”

  Soledad pouted prettily. “My mood is spoiled now. I want to go.”

  “All right. We’re due to meet your daddy back at the house for lunch soon, anyhow.” His slow drawl grew fainter as he urged Soledad toward the door, and Mia leaned against a brass hat rack, limp with relief. “He wants you to fill us both in on your trip to Costa Rica.”

  “I wish he would listen to me about the new export facilities. Cousin Isabel and I have wonderful ideas to expand production and double capacity.” Soledad sighed. “Papa is so old-fashioned and conservative, especially where I’m concerned.” She brightened. “I know! It’s such a splendid day, I shall ask the staff to serve coffee in the gazebo. Papa adores his flowers so, and he will be in a good mood after eating. Can you put in a word for me with him, querido? He does respect your opinion.”

  The couple walked out of the store, and the glass door swished shut, cutting off Dallas’s reply.

  Mia’s nerves jittered. A report from Costa Rica. Montoya discussing his “export” business. Outside in the gazebo!

  Finally, the break she’d been waiting, hoping for!

  She drove as fast as she dared, once again parking on the street flanking Montoya’s driveway. She’d made numerous stealthy forays to scout Montoya’s mansion and knew the household routine and location of the perimeter’s security cameras. Thanks to county building permit records, internet satellite map sites, and extensive, meticulous research, she also had a decent idea of the layout of the house and grounds, and how to avoid the cameras.

  If people only knew how much “private” information was available on the net, they’d freak.

  She locked her purse in the trunk and extracted the light aluminum telescoping ladder she’d previously stashed for the moment when opportunity finally knocked. Then she scurried along the twelve-foot stucco wall surrounding Montoya’s estate to a gigantic oak tree in the rear of the mansion. The oak would provide both a screen from the cameras … and her entry point.

  Mia extended the stepladder, suddenly grateful for the Colonel’s athletic DNA. The only thing she’d ever received from her father … except bruises.

  She struggled to the top of the wall. Scaling the oak from there was easy. A robin scolded her, peering suspiciously from its leafy fortress as Mia climbed down the tree and jumped to the grass.

  As she scanned the rolling green landscape from behind the oak’s trunk, her pulse thundered in her ears. The Ferrari would’ve whisked Dallas and Soledad here long before her Bug had chugged across town. But the ornate wooden gazebo about a hundred feet ahead to her left was empty—she’d made it in time!

  The gazebo sat in the middle of a bountiful garden, surrounded by budding rosebushes. Several mature flowering cherry trees draped in fluffy pink and white veils stood sentinel on either side, promising abundant cover.

  Tracking the security cameras’ movements, Mia ran and hid, ran and hid in careful, clandestine forays through the fragrant plants. A marble fountain’s cascading splash echoed the damning refrain of Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! chanting inside her head.

  One mistake now would be lethal.

  Panting, she slipped behind the biggest cherry tree next to the gazebo. The structure had a delicate, lacy roof interwoven with yellow-flowered vines. The cloying scent teased her nostrils as she shinnied up the tree trunk, then inched along a swaying branch directly over the vine-covered lattice. Draped stomach-down on the end of the branch, she went still. So did the branch, thank heaven.

  She’d waited and watched less than fifteen minutes when she saw Esteban, Soledad, and Dallas strolling across the lawn. A plump Hispanic woman in a maroon uniform followed, carrying a tray holding coffee and slices of fluffy coconut cake. The robin hopped along the grass behind her … looking for crumbs? Mia could relate. The chocolate cupcake breakfast seemed like a long time ago.

  Her stomach grumbled a cranky concerto, and anxiety dampened her palms. She pressed against the rough bark. That’s all she needed, for her stomach to be the death of her.

  Th
e group climbed the steps and chose their seats. Dallas in the wooden swing angled to one side below the limb she was clinging to, Esteban and Soledad in cushioned wicker chairs to his right. The Hispanic woman set the tray on a wrought iron table to serve the trio coffee and cake.

  Esteban Montoya accepted his dessert with a gracious smile and a kind inquiry in Spanish about the woman’s young son. She eagerly filled him in on the child’s progress, and even tugged a crayon drawing from her apron pocket.

  Mia studied Montoya. She’d only caught a brief glimpse of him in Grayson’s office during the men’s meeting. Tall and elegant in an understated gray suit, with close-cut silver hair and neat mustache, he appeared every inch a cultured gentleman.

  As she eavesdropped on his friendly exchange with the maid, he seemed like such a pleasant, mild-spoken person, Mia had a hard time associating him with the crimes she suspected.

  But she’d learned through bitter experience that appearances often had nothing to do with true character.

  The maid departed, and the robin soared into the cerulean sky. Esteban pulled a cigar from his jacket pocket and lit it.

  “Papa,” Soledad scolded. “The doctor told you to stop smoking.”

  “Ah, I’m an old man. Allow me my small vices.”

  “I want you to be healthy. We have much more to do.” Soledad leaned back in her chair, daintily sipping coffee. “After this latest boom in sales, the village is vastly improved. The sewage treatment plant is working at top efficiency. And the new hospital wing is nearly completed. Soon we can hire two new doctors.”

  “Muy bueno! That is wonderful news.”

  Mia frowned. Esteban was funding sewage treatment plants and hospitals? Criminals used their profits to buy mansions and Ferraris. They didn’t support charitable works.

  “Papa, I have many ideas for production and distribution to expedite the recent increase in export orders. I’ve spoken to Cousin Isabel—”

  Esteban held up one hand. “As I’ve said many times, I don’t feel it is wise to expand so quickly. Slow and steady, the way I built the business from the ground up is the way to proceed. We must be careful.”

  Soledad pursed her full lips. “Señor Dallas does not think so.”

  “Señor Dallas? You believe my daughter’s ideas have merit?”

  Uneasiness weighted Mia’s shoulders. She wanted to believe the luscious McQuade was a man of honor. He obviously had Esteban’s ear. Was he in bed with these criminals? Or was he merely acting in an advisory capacity, an outside security consultant with no idea of his boss’s true profession?

  A chirp caught her attention, and the robin swooped past, inches from her head. She started, nearly losing her grip. It banked and returned, circling around her.

  Dammit, bird, scram!

  She tried to surreptitiously wave it off, and it finally flitted away. Breathing a silent sigh, she refocused her attention on the scene below.

  Dallas put his empty cake plate and coffee mug on the table. “I don’t think it would hurt to hear her out, sir.”

  Cheep! Her miniature nemesis was back.

  After more dizzying acrobatics, the robin landed on Mia’s branch and hopped closer. Cheep, cheep!

  Mia flicked her fingers at it. The robin only hopped faster, chirped louder. Quiet, pest! Don’t you give me away!

  Okay, she’d try ignoring it. Eventually, the bird would get bored and leave. Hopefully.

  She again peered through tangled flowers and lattice. A blossom tickled her nostrils, the perfume mingling with the acrid smoke of Esteban’s cigar. Not daring to scratch, she twitched her nose.

  Don’t sneeze. Don’t. Sneeze.

  Dallas stood, rolled those wide shoulders. He absently pushed the swing in a gentle rhythm. “I don’t want to get between you and your daughter, Señor Esteban, but Soledad does have sharp business savvy.”

  “Hmm …” Esteban stroked his mustache thoughtfully. “I wonder, then …”

  His soft voice was difficult to hear. Mia slithered farther down the limb. If she could get closer…

  Squawk! The robin went ballistic, flapping and screaming.

  Mia jumped, the branch creaking wildly. She slipped sideways—and saw a nest in another branch to her left, cradling three naked, chirping babies.

  Aw hell!

  Skree! Out of nowhere, a second robin dive-bombed, flying into Mia’s face.

  She instinctively flung her hands up to protect her eyes—and lost her grip on the bucking branch.

  A yelp burst out of her as she scrambled in a frantic attempt to keep her balance. An ear-splitting crack fractured the quiet afternoon as the branch snapped. For a long, heart-shaking moment, Mia grappled with thin air.

  Then she fell.

  Chapter 4

  The branch crashed through the lattice roof of the gazebo first, thudding to the floor and smashing an opening for a terrified Mia, hurtling right behind it.

  “Christ!” Dallas barked, his gaze flying up. He lunged forward, thrusting out his arms … and Mia tumbled right into them.

  He grunted, staggered several steps. His arms closed around her, his lightning leap saving her from hitting the deck.

  Cowboy was packing some bodacious reflexes.

  “What the fu—” He glared at her. “What are you doing here?”

  She blinked. Her head spun, but nothing hurt too badly. “I— Ah—”

  “You!” Snarling, Soledad leapt to her feet. “I have seen you before. You attacked Dallas at the nightclub.” Her attention flicked to Mia’s distinctive sneakers, and suspicion sharpened her perfect features. “And those ugly shoes … you were in the boutique, as well, sí?”

  “I did not attack—”

  Soledad whirled to face Esteban. “Papa, this woman could be one of the assassins who tried to kill you last week!”

  Mia started. Someone had hired a hit on Esteban? That explained why he’d been keeping his head down. And the gash on McQuade’s ribs.

  Soledad pushed a button concealed under the railing, and two men stampeded the gazebo. Two dark, dangerous gazes trained on her. Two huge gun barrels stared her in the face. The robins who’d turned stool pigeons screeched overhead, wings flapping madly.

  Mia fought the sinewy arms holding her prisoner, but Dallas locked her down. “Be still,” he whispered in her ear. “Keep your mouth shut and I might be able to get you out of this alive.”

  His calmness penetrated her panic, and she quieted.

  Dallas addressed the armed men. “Put the guns away, boys. What we’ve got here is a misunderstanding.”

  “She is a dangerous woman,” Soledad accused. “She’s been following you and me, and now she’s after my father!”

  Esteban’s stare froze Mia’s blood. “Is this true?”

  “No,” Dallas insisted. “Mia’s not dangerous. And she’s not after anybody.” He dropped into the swing, holding her tightly on his lap. “She… She’s…” His chest expanded on a quick breath. “She’s my fiancée.”

  Mia jerked upright. “I am n—”

  Dallas pressed his lips to hers in a fast, hard kiss. Over before it began, the kiss nevertheless left her blood singing—and for the first time in her life, her voice mute.

  “Shut it,” he hissed. “Let me handle this.” His big hand cupped her neck, a long, callused thumb tenderly stroking the nape. Only an outward show of affection, but she shivered on an unexpected, shocking frisson of pleasure.

  “Mia is a tad upset. When she saw me escorting your beautiful daughter around the city, Señor, she got jealous, and overreacted. I tried to reassure her, but you know how women are. She won’t be causing any more problems. You have my word.”

  Mia’s breath jammed in her lungs. Why was he protecting her—at immense cost to himself? Did he feel an obligation to help her because she’d taken a risk and rescued him?

  Or perhaps while working for Esteban, he’d discovered how brutally his employer dealt with opposition.

  She looked down a
t the torn cherry blossoms littering her clothes. Dallas didn’t know half of it. If Esteban learned who she really was, she’d end up in worse condition than the bruised, crumpled flowers.

  And Dallas could pay dearly for defending her.

  Esteban snuffed his cigar in a ceramic ash tray on the table. “You are engaged?” he said softly. “Then the lovely lady is not a problem at all. You should have brought her along to lunch.” He smiled at Mia. “I am honored to make your acquaintance, Señorita Mia.”

  Okay … For a ruthless killer, the man had manners up the wazoo. “Er, nice to meet you, too.” I’ve been waiting months.

  Esteban gave her a courtly nod and waved at the expansive emerald lawn and mansion beyond. “Please, I do not wish to cause you distress over your fiancé’s employment. Feel free to visit anytime, and make our home your home.”

  A thrill coursed through Mia. Obviously, Dallas was in a trusted position. And she’d just been handed free license to explore.

  “That won’t be necessary, Señor,” Dallas countered. “Now that she knows there’s nothing to worry about, Mia won’t be bothering you again.” Steely indigo eyes drilled her. “Will you, darlin’?”

  Dammit, he was stealing her opportunity before she’d even had a chance to cash in!

  A stunning hit-and-run idea crashed into her. She could turn this to her advantage. How far did Esteban’s chivalry extend? How far could she push Dallas’s defense? If she appealed to Esteban’s gallantry and gained his sympathy, Dallas couldn’t keep his “fiancée” from visiting the mansion.

  She inhaled deeply. No guts, no glory.

  Safe in Dallas’s encircling arms, Mia used six years of theater classes to dredge up convincing crocodile tears. “He says he loves me, and claims I don’t have anything to be concerned about.” She sniffled. “But even with the baby on the way, he’s never around anymore. I miss him. And he won’t set a date for the wedding. It’s no wonder I feel lonely and insecure.”

  Dallas went rigid. His mouth dropped open, then snapped shut—as if he didn’t trust himself to speak.