Tropical Tryst: 25 All New and Exclusive Sexy Reads

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Tropical Tryst: 25 All New and Exclusive Sexy Reads Page 196

by Nicole Morgan


  “Not for her. She’s miserable with you gone. She’s convinced it’s her fault for bringing you to America in the first place. Are you going to let her go to her grave bearing that guilt? Are you going to deny her the chance to hug and kiss you one more time? Are you going to be so selfish you won’t give her the one thing in the world she wants before she dies?”

  Juanita glared at Carmen, the tears spilling from her eyes matching those running down her sister’s cheeks. “I’m not going to let you guilt trip me into getting you arrested!”

  Carmen’s temper flared. “And I’m not going to let you renege on our deal! You told me you’d do it. That’s why I spent the money to book this cruise, even when the only rooms left were expensive ones with balconies. That’s why I used a week of vacation I was saving for a trip to California next summer. That’s why I talked Ryan into coming with me.” Her voice softened. “When we spoke on Friday, you were ready. You said you’d given notice at your job and turned in the keys to your apartment. What’s changed?”

  Juanita scrubbed her eyes. She should have known Carmen would have a dozen ready arguments. “The shop will take me back. And they can’t have rented my apartment to anyone else yet.”

  “You’re not answering my question.”

  Juanita couldn’t admit the truth. “I told you. I thought about it, and I decided it was too risky. I’m allowed to change my mind.”

  “Not when people have gone to a lot of trouble and expense to help you! Not when your mother is dying and only wants to see you again! Not when—”

  The stranger—Ryan—cleared his throat. “You might want to keep your voice down, Carmen. If there’s still a chance we’re going to go through with this, it’s important not to attract any attention.”

  Carmen glared at him, but dropped her volume. “Juanita, please. For my sake, if you won’t do it for your own. And for Mom’s sake, if you won’t do it for mine.”

  Juanita wished she’d quit talking about Mom. The last time they’d talked on the phone, her mother had sounded so happy. She’d rambled on and on about everything they’d do once Juanita was back in Houston. They would go shopping at the Galleria and eat at Pappadeaux and attend Mass at St. Theresa. They would visit all their friends and neighbors, who’d be overjoyed at Juanita’s safe return. She’d cook Juanita all her favorite dishes. Soon it would be time for the annual tamalada, when all the women of the community got together and made dozens of tamales to go into the freezer for Christmas Eve. Juanita had agreed with everything, even though she knew from what Carmen had told her that their mother was already too weak and in too much pain to leave the house, or even her bed most days.

  She fought to keep her voice from shaking, not very successfully. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

  Carmen opened her mouth, but Ryan spoke first, his voice soft and compassionate. “Why not?” He gestured to the bed behind Juanita, where her pitiful little pile of belongings lay. “It looks like you’re all ready to go. You know Carmen and I just want to help you. I promise, we’re not taking a very big risk. I researched it before we left. As far as I can tell, the US government doesn’t keep track of when citizens leave the country or come back, so Carmen’s passport should be accepted without question. And you really do look just like the picture on her driver’s license. I couldn’t tell the difference, and I’ve known Carmen for three years.”

  Juanita wished she hadn’t gathered her things before she’d abruptly decided she couldn’t go through with their plan. It was too big a clue that she wasn’t really worried about Carmen and her friend. He was probably right. Carmen would never have arranged this if she wasn’t sure it would work. Chances were high that they’d all breeze through customs without the officials giving them a second glance.

  But there was a small chance they wouldn’t. That the officials would realize Juanita wasn’t Carmen. Then the shouting would start, and guns would point their round hollow muzzles at her face, and rough hands would seize her, and cold steel handcuffs would clamp around her wrists—

  Warmth settled on her wrist, in sharp contrast to the remembered chill. Ryan’s voice cut through the memories. “It’s perfectly natural to be afraid. Just don’t let the fear keep you from doing what you want. You do want to go home, don’t you?”

  She wanted it with every cell in her body. She wanted it like she wanted to breathe. She wanted it like she wanted her heart to keep beating. But fear stood between her and her desire, far taller and thicker and more formidable than the concrete and razor wire wall going up along the border.

  She’d tried to like Mexico. Maybe she could have, if she’d come here of her own volition instead of by force. The people were warm and accepting, the capital city was full of vibrant energy, the landscape and weather were beautiful. But it wasn’t home.

  She felt like ET, stranded on an alien planet where nothing made sense, trying desperately to contact the spaceship that had left her behind so her people would come back and rescue her. As a child she’d watched the fuzzy videotape over and over so many times it wore out. She’d never imagined that someday she’d be in the lovable little creature’s place.

  She pulled her hand away from Ryan’s. “Yes, but—”

  “Then let us help you.”

  His voice was so earnest and entreating that she glanced up into his face. His warm golden-brown eyes caught and held hers. They contained nothing but honesty. He wanted to help her. He wasn’t afraid. If she went with him, she wouldn’t have to be afraid, either.

  She yanked her gaze away, her face heating. “I—”

  “Please?”

  She couldn’t deny him, but she couldn’t give in, either. She balled her fists in her lap and stared at them.

  After a moment he went on, quiet but intense. “The only way to fight what’s going on in America right now is to stand up to the people who’re trying to destroy everything good about our country. I don’t want to let them win. Which they will, if they succeed in driving people like you out. Please, don’t let them scare you away.”

  When she still didn’t answer, his voice roughened. “Although I don’t blame you if you want nothing more to do with the US. It would probably be smarter to stay in Mexico. At least here you don’t have to worry about the same thing happening to you again.”

  Her gut twisted. How could he understand so clearly, when there was no chance it would ever happen to him? Her home wasn’t home anymore. Not really. Not when at any moment she could be swept up and thrown out like so much garbage.

  “But it’s not going to stay that way forever. Lots of people are working to change things. So please, consider giving us another chance. Now, while you can still be with your mother for whatever time she has left.”

  Her resolve crumbled under his gentle assault. She glanced up at him, then quickly away. She looked at Carmen, who was watching their interaction breathlessly. Clearly she knew better than to interfere when Ryan’s persuasion was working. Juanita didn’t have the kind of defenses against the stranger that years of dealing with her strong-willed sister had forced her to build.

  She should have known she could never hold out against the two of them. She was still terrified, but Ryan’s passionate words had reinforced the longing and defiance in her heart, while his calm confidence had muted her fear. How could she resist him when he was urging her to do the very thing she wanted desperately to do?

  She hunched her shoulders and stared at the floor. “I guess.”

  Carmen jumped to her feet. “Great! Ryan, take my stuff out of my bag and put hers in. Juanita, come with me to the bathroom so we can switch clothes.” She grabbed Juanita’s hand as she hurried by, her energy sweeping Juanita along in her wake. Juanita grimaced, but went along without further resistance.

  This was how it had always been when they were children and teenagers. Despite being younger, Carmen was the leader, and Juanita the meek follower. She’d usually enjoyed the adventures Carmen had dragged her into, no matter how scared she’d bee
n. At least in hindsight, after the danger was over.

  She breathed a swift prayer that this time would prove the same.

  CHAPTER 3

  Ryan escorted Juanita down the crowded sidewalk. He kept his grasp on her hand light and relaxed. She was so nervous he worried she might startle and flee at the slightest provocation. They couldn’t go back to the ship while she was like this. There was too much chance someone would notice something was wrong.

  He made his voice as nonchalant as possible. “Let’s walk around for a little while. Maybe do some shopping. I wouldn’t mind picking up a few souvenirs. This will be my only chance, since we’re staying on the ship in the other two ports.”

  “Most of them are made in China, you know,” she said, waving at the store they were passing, where racks of gaudy trinkets begged for attention.

  “Not surprising.” He stopped and picked up a tall, narrow shot glass with a crooked “Cozumel, Quintana Roo” decal. “What do you recommend?”

  “Not that.” Juanita grimaced and looked around. She pointed. “The vanilla is good, but overpriced. You can get the same thing for half as much at any grocery store in Mexico City.”

  “But we’re here, not there.” He walked over and picked up one of the bottles she’d indicated. “What else?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing in this store, unless you want a t-shirt.” She waved at a wall covered in bright garments with pictures of dolphins and sailboats and palm trees.

  “Not my style.” Ryan took the vanilla to the cashier and handed over his credit card. “Is there anything you’d like to commemorate your time in Mexico? We’ve got plenty of time to find stores with higher quality goods.”

  She hesitated. Finally, with a diffident shrug, she said, “I saw a shop with some really nice leatherwork when I was walking from the ferry. I could use a new purse.”

  “Perfect.” Ryan accepted the wrapped and bagged vanilla and led her out of the shop. “Let me treat you to a few fun splurges. It’s the least I can do, since you’re paying for my cruise.” He winked at her.

  A shy smile rewarded his efforts. “Maybe. If I see anything I like.”

  That was a good start, at least. If he could help her get comfortable enough to laugh and chat, making it back onto the ship would be a lot easier than if she was still tense. After that, they’d have the duration of the cruise to get her ready for the big test at the end. “It’s a deal. Show me the way.”

  She guided him out to the sidewalk and down the street, through the throngs of tourists. Her confidence increased as Ryan followed her willingly. The tension in his gut eased. This was going to work, after all. For a little while there, he’d been worried.

  After he and Carmen had finally overcome Juanita’s reluctance, they’d spent more than an hour in the hotel room, going over everything she needed to know. Several more times she’d nearly balked, but between the two of them they’d talked her down. It was obvious to Ryan that her arrest and deportation had left her with deep emotional scars. The more he glimpsed the strong, mature woman under the damage, the angrier he got. He wished those who’d voted for this could see the harm they’d done.

  Juanita and Carmen had exchanged IDs and reviewed their plans one more time. Carmen would stay in the hotel room overnight. Tomorrow she would take the ferry back to the mainland. She’d travel north by bus, stopping to sightsee along the way. When she got to Matamoros, she’d wait for Juanita and Ryan to notify her that they’d cleared customs before she attempted to cross the border into Brownsville.

  The sisters had exchanged tearful farewells. Ryan had hung back to give them as much privacy as he could while they embraced. Then he’d accompanied Juanita down the stairs and out into the warm, breezy sunlight.

  The main tourist drag ran along the coast on this part of the island. Across four lanes of traffic, crystalline waves lapped a narrow rocky beach. On this side of the road, shops and bars and restaurants lined the sidewalk. Three more cruise ships in addition to theirs were in port, so everything was packed. Which was just as well. The more they could blend into the crowd, the better.

  They arrived at the store Juanita had mentioned. Belts and sandals and purses hung on the walls. Wallets and boots covered the tables that filled the narrow, deep space. The earthy scent of leather filled the air. Ryan took a deep breath in appreciation.

  Juanita turned her attention to the display of purses. She pulled down one after another, examined them inside and out, then hung them back up. Finally one met her approval. She showed Ryan the intricate decorative pattern. “See how smooth and detailed the tooling is? And the stitching is strong and even. That’s how you recognize good craftsmanship.” She looked at the tag. “It was made in a workshop on the mainland. So not quite local, but not imported, at least.” She flipped the tag over to read the price. Before Ryan could make out the number, she hurriedly hung the purse back on its hook. “It’s not worth what they’re charging for it, though.”

  He didn’t comment as she moved on. But once she was well down the display, he casually checked the tag. It was quite expensive, but Ryan didn’t consider the price outrageous for a handmade item of such quality.

  He moved to a display of wallets and browsed through them, appreciating the buttery texture of the leather and the solid construction that he was certain would stand up well to wear and tear. When Juanita left the purses and came to join him, he picked up the one he’d selected. “Didn’t find anything? Oh, well. I’m going to get this. There’s no need for you to wait. Head on down the street until you see something else interesting and wait for me to catch up. It might take a minute.” He waved at where the shopkeeper was ringing up another customer.

  “All right.” Juanita looked nervous again, but didn’t argue. She took a deep breath and left the open front of the store, turning right toward the pier.

  As soon as she was out of sight, Ryan retrieved the purse and took it to the counter with the wallet. He wondered if the shopkeeper expected him to bargain, but he could afford the full price, so he didn’t bother.

  He found Juanita waiting two shops away, picking up carved onyx animal figurines, turning them over in her hands, and setting them back down. Between each she anxiously lifted her head and scanned the sidewalk. When she spotted Ryan, her face lit up. “There you are. If you want a shot glass, they’ve got some nice handblown ones here.” She indicated a shelf with an extensive selection.

  “I think I will. Can you hold this while I look at them?” He pulled the purse out from behind his back and pressed it into her hands.

  She stared at it with a stricken expression. “You shouldn’t have. It cost too much.”

  “But I liked it. Don’t you think it goes well with this outfit?” He retrieved it and slung it over his shoulder, turning to give her a clear view of it swinging at his side.

  That won a smile, although he’d hoped for a laugh. “Not really.”

  He twisted his lips in an exaggerated pout. “Yes, it does. You’re just trying to get me to give it to you, but it won’t work. You watch. I’m going to start a new fashion. Every man in Houston will be carrying one of these by next spring.”

  There was the laugh. She tried to trap it behind pinched lips, but it escaped. “I doubt it. Somehow I don’t think most of them could carry off the look.”

  “But it’s leather. That makes it masculine enough for anyone.” She shook her head, eyes dancing, and he sighed. “No? Not even at the livestock show next spring, when all the cowboy boots and hats come out?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  He sighed again, even more exaggeratedly. “Oh, well. I’ll just have to pass it on to one of my female friends. Maybe Carmen. Think she’d like it?”

  “No. Not her style.”

  “Tell you what. You help me pick out something your sister will love, and I’ll give you this in exchange. Sound fair?”

  She spread her hands helplessly. “Whatever.”

  “Great!” He passed her the purse ag
ain. This time she shrugged it onto her shoulder. Ryan admired the way the rich brown harmonized with the warm tan of her bare arms. “I hate to admit it, but it looks a lot better on you than on me.”

  “That’s not saying much.” She turned her back, pretending to be very interested in the onyx animals, but after a moment he saw her hand rise to caress the smooth leather.

  Smugly satisfied, he turned his attention to the shot glasses. She’d been right about their quality. It took him a while to choose among the various designs. He hesitated over one painted with vivid bird-of-paradise flowers, but eventually passed it over in favor of one made of thick, bubbly glass with a cobalt blue rim.

  After the shopkeeper wrapped it in several layers of newsprint, Ryan tucked it into Carmen’s tote bag, now Juanita’s. “I’ll carry this for a while.” He took the tote bag, which she surrendered willingly. “See anything your sister would like?”

  “Not here. Let’s keep looking.”

  They worked their way down the row of shops. Eventually they settled on a beautiful silver Nativity set for Carmen. Juanita again protested the price, but Ryan insisted. “I can afford it. And I like supporting local craftspeople. Do you want to choose something for your mother, too? I’m going to see what I can find for my parents, and also my brother and his wife and my nephews. I don’t intend to go back to the ship until we’re so laden down we can barely carry it all.”

  At the word ship, her smile vanished and her eyes dropped. He kicked himself for reminding her. She was so cheerful and talkative when she wasn’t thinking about what awaited.

  “But first,” he continued, “let’s stop for a bite to eat and a drink. That place looks promising.” He pointed to the corner, where a very touristy and apparently very popular establishment was crowded with hungry patrons. “I want a margarita. What about you?”

  “I can’t stand tequila.” Juanita followed him down the street. “But I wouldn’t mind a daiquiri.”

 

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