Hidden Agenda

by Rochelle Alers

  Her large dark eyes watched him watching her, and for a brief second he detected a look of sadness passing over her delicate features.

  “What’s bothering you, Darling?”

  Eve’s brow wrinkled and she closed her eyes. “I don’t know how to explain it, but right now I feel so guilty because I’m so happy.”

  Matt pulled her down to lie beside him, and shifted to face her. “There’s nothing wrong with feeling happy.”

  She opened her eyes and stared at her husband. “How can I be happy and not have Chris?”

  “You will have your son, Preciosa. I’ve promised you that I’ll get him back.” He brushed a gentle kiss across her forehead. “You belong to me, Eve, and Chris will also belong to me, because he is a part of you.”

  Lowering her head, Eve buried her face against his chest; the medals suspended from the thick, gold chain around his neck pressed against her cheek. “You picked the wrong time of the month to make love to me.” They’d made love several times without the benefit of protection.

  Matt was enchanted with her display of shyness. “It’s never the wrong time, Baby. Nothing would please me more than for you to have our children.”

  She kissed his breast. “I suppose you’d want a son to carry on the Sterling name.”

  He anchored a finger under her chin and raised her face to his. “I already have a son, Eve. Your son will be my son.” He gave her a sensuous smile. “I think I’d like to have a daughter. A little girl with her mother’s perfect face and body and—”

  “And her father’s golden eyes,” Eve interrupted softly.

  Smiling, Matt pressed his lips to her hair. “Now that I think about it, I don’t know if I want a daughter.”

  “Why?”

  It was his turn to frown. “When I think of what I used to do with other men’s daughters, I don’t think I’d survive watching her grow up into a woman. And I don’t think she’d appreciate her father meeting her dates at the door with a gun or knife in his hand.”

  Eve pulled out of his embrace, sitting up. “You wouldn’t!”

  Matt shifted his eyebrows, trying not to laugh. Eve thought he was serious. “Of course not. I plan to teach her to ride and shoot. And I’ll dry her tears whenever she falls or when some guy stands her up on a date. Then, I’ll go looking for him and break both of his legs.”

  Eve shook her head, laughing. “You’re impossible, Matthew Sterling.”

  He gathered her to his chest. “And you’re incredible, Mrs. Sterling. I’m exhausted and starving, but I still want to make love to you.”

  “Later,” she whispered, pushing against his firm hold.

  He released her and watched as she slipped out of the bed. He had come to know every facet of her delightful body: the length and strength of her long slender legs, the shape of her well-groomed hands and feet, the full firmness of her perfectly shaped breasts that were perched high above her narrow rib cage, and the velvet smoothness of her skin, whose color and texture reminded him of a luxurious sable pelt.

  Folding his arms behind his head, Matt closed his eyes. One phase of his mission had proven successful. Now all he had to do was uncover Joshua Kirkland’s mole and find the child he had come to think of as his stepson.

  “Get out of the kitchen and leave me alone!” Eve shouted at Matt, her voice drowning out the melodious sound of taped music coming from the stereo player on a countertop.

  He retreated a few steps. “Are you certain you don’t need my help?”

  She poked a long-handled, wooden spoon in the middle of his broad chest. “Go. Why don’t you shave? You look scruffy.”

  Matt rubbed a hand over his whiskered cheeks, glaring at Eve from under lowered eyebrows. “You’re kind of ornery today, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not ornery, as you put it, Mateo. It’s just that I can’t put together a dinner for guests if you continue to sample everything I put out on the table.”

  In a motion too quick for the eye to follow, Matt captured the spoon, threw it to the floor and pulled Eve into his arms. “Loosen up, Darling,” he crooned in her ear as he led her into a smooth dance step, keeping perfect rhythm with the Spanish love song.

  How could she loosen up when he couldn’t keep his hands off her body? He’d disappeared from the house for several hours earlier that morning, then returned with the news that he’d invited a friend and his wife for dinner.

  She’d panicked, wondering how she was going to plan a dinner with only hours’ notice. However, Horst Van Holt’s magic freezer had provided the ingredients for a paella: chicken and chorizo. She’d ordered Matt to the fish market to bring back the seafood: clams and shrimp. She had taken advantage of his absence to clean the house and defrost the chicken and sausage.

  Eve relaxed against Matt’s body, giving in to the hauntingly sensual voice of the vocalist and the pulsating Latin music. “Where did you learn to dance?” she questioned.

  Matt lowered his chin to the top of her head. “It’s an old story, Sweetheart.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “It’s about a girl I once had a crush on.”

  “I want to hear about it, anyway,” Eve insisted. She wanted to know everything she could about the man she’d married.

  “Abigail Carson was the daughter of the wealthiest black man in Lubbock, and every boy in the whole county thought himself in love with her. And I was no exception. Abby wore fancy clothes and drove an expensive car, while I was lucky if I got the pickup on weekends. She was a few years older than me, but she invited me to one of her parties because I looked older than sixteen.

  “Her mother served fancy food to her daughter’s fancy guests, and I couldn’t pronounce half of what I’d eaten. After dinner came the dancing, and Abby asked me to dance with her.” He pulled back and stared down at Eve’s amused expression.

  “And you danced all over her fancy shoes,” she said perceptively.

  He nodded, grinning. “All over her feet, legs, and knees. She screamed at me in front of everyone, calling me uncouth. I was so mad that I grabbed her and kissed her right in front of her mother and guests. Then I stormed out and drove my pickup back home.

  “Her father came to see me the next day, threatening to have me arrested for assaulting his daughter. At sixteen I was well over six feet, and weighed close to one eighty-five. My father came into the barn when he heard us arguing, but didn’t interfere. I told Mr. Carson exactly what I thought of his stuck-up daughter, and he nearly fainted when I told him that his daughter was a tramp. I don’t believe he knew she was sleeping around. He saw my father, and asked him if he was going to allow me to defame his daughter’s reputation.

  “Dad smiled and said very calmly, ‘You’re lucky I don’t let him loose to beat the crap out of you. Now get the hell out of my barn, Carson. You’re stinking it up.’”

  Matt’s eyes crinkled in amusement as Eve laughed. “My folks sent me to a dance studio, and after that I never stepped on another woman’s foot.”

  She’d insisted on hearing the story and he had told her, but she felt jealous of the women in his past. Her arms curved around his waist as she pressed her cheek to his chest. “One more dance, then I’ll have to finish dinner.”

  His arms tightened on her body. “Let’s enjoy ourselves tonight, Eve. Tomorrow morning we leave for Puerto Escondido.” He felt her stiffen in his embrace. The time had come when he had to encounter Alejandro Delgado-Quintero.

  Eve closed her eyes, nodding slowly. What she’d shared with Matt in the house high atop the mountain would end, and her journey to confront her ex-husband was about to begin.

  Chapter 18

  Eve dipped a small, rounded brush into a jar of styling gel, then brushed her hair until the sides were straight and smooth. She left just a hint of curl at the crown of her head.

  She smiled at Matt’s reflection in the mirror over the bedroom’s triple dresser as he entered the room. “Simple enough, Darling?”

  He walked over to her
and placed his hands on her shoulders. His black hair glistened with moisture from his recent shower. His gaze met hers in the glass. “You’ll never look plain or simple, Eve.” The compliment brought a wave of heat to her cheeks. She’d selected a yellow linen sheath dress with a pair of low-heeled, black, patent leather pumps. His hands moved down her arms, encircling her waist, and she leaned back against his body. “You’re ravishing,” he whispered.

  Turning around to face him, Eve stared up at Matt. She cradled his lean, dark-skinned face between her slender hands. “Thank you, my love.”

  He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Let’s go downstairs, Preciosa. Jorge and Lilian will be arriving at any moment.”

  “You’ve gotten yourself quite a prize, Mateo,” Jorge said softly, staring at Eve’s profile as she smiled at the photographs Lilian proudly showed her of their children.

  Matt merely nodded. He sat at the dining room table, puffing in a leisurely way on his cigar. He hadn’t liked the way Jorge continued to stare at Eve throughout dinner, and also hadn’t liked the way he held her hand a bit too long for convention.

  Eve had been the perfect hostess, making their guests comfortable. She had made an attempt to communicate in Spanish with Lilian, who patiently helped her when she did not remember the Spanish equivalents for several words.

  “I’m leaving tomorrow morning,” Matt said very quietly. “I’ll remain in Escondido until I get my orders from Cordero.”

  Jorge stared at a growing ash on the end of his cigar. “I can’t believe it’s almost over. Five long, hard, dirty years in this grubby hellhole.”

  Matt stared at dark-haired, dark-eyed, petite Lilian Martín. “You found a lovely wife and you have two beautiful children, so I don’t think you’ve been too bored.”

  A quick smile deepened the lines around Jorge’s obsidian eyes. “I suppose you’re right. It was either Mexico or Colombia. Right now I think Mexico is a lot more dangerous for a DEA agent than Cali or Bogotá.”

  Matt smiled through the rising smoke. “I’ll attest to that. I almost didn’t make it out last year. I wonder if Barranda upped the bounty on my ears.”

  “Rumor has it that he wants you real B-A-D, Mateo.”

  “He can keep wanting, because I’m never going back.”

  “You don’t have to go back for them to take you out, amigo. Look what happened to Moreno. He got whacked while sitting in his car waiting for the light to change at the height of the Miami rush hour.”

  Matt stared at Jorge, raising his eyebrows. “Moreno was sloppy and greedy. The money he was paid wasn’t enough. He wanted more, and in the end he lost his life.”

  Jorge took a final drag from his cigar and crushed it in an ashtray. “Well, amigo, I’d better get back to the house. I’m supposed to meet someone tonight who’ll have word on a Chihuahua operation. He claims there’s a multimillion-dollar marijuana cultivation and processing complex in the desert.”

  Matt and Jorge returned to the kitchen and their wives. Eve glanced up, her eyes widening in surprise.

  “Are you leaving?”

  Jorge’s ebony gaze swept appreciatively over her body. “The babysitter has to be home by ten.” Lilian nodded in agreement. “When you and Mateo come back, please come down and meet the rest of the family.”

  Eve stared at Matt, and he bowed his head. She hugged Lilian, thanking her for coming. Jorge stepped forward, but Matt stopped him from reaching Eve when he grabbed his hand and pumped it.

  “Thanks for visiting. Eve and I will contact you the moment we return.”

  Eve gave Matt a strange look as he ushered the Martín couple to the door and out into the sultry night. “Why did you do that?” she questioned after the door closed behind them.

  “Do what?” Matt asked, feigning innocence.

  She folded her hands on her hips. “Throw them out.”

  Matt leaned against the door and slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “I didn’t throw them out. It was time for them to get back to their children.”

  “You were rude, Mateo Arroyo.”

  He straightened from his leaning position, his body rigid. “Jorge was the rude one, Eve. He has a wife, yet he couldn’t keep his eyes off my wife. So don’t talk to me about being rude. He’s lucky I didn’t knock his teeth out.”

  “Why pick on the man’s teeth? It’s his eyes you had a beef with,” Eve retorted angrily.

  Matt muttered a curse under his breath and opened the door, only to slam it violently after he’d stepped out into the black heat of the night.

  He was losing it! Being in love was turning him into a maniac. He wanted to beat up his friend because he had stared at Eve. He didn’t want to think of what he would’ve done if Jorge had touched her!

  Eve felt Matt’s presence before he entered the bedroom, even though her back was to the door. “Are you coming to apologize?”

  He sat down on the side of the bed and removed his clothes. “No. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

  She sat up, the sheet falling down to her waist and giving Matt a view of her breasts through the lace of an ice-blue silk nightgown. “Are you telling me that every time we have someone for dinner that you’re going to rush them out of the house before they’re ready to leave?”

  He reached for her, but she was too quick and scooted off the bed. “Only if they’re men,” he stated, also moving off the bed and stalking her.

  “Mateo,” she wailed.

  “I know that I have a jealous streak a mile wide, Eve.”

  She retreated until her back hit a wall. “I guess Jorge can consider himself a lucky man that he escaped unharmed.”

  Matt reached out and swung her up in his arms. “I’m the lucky man, Darling.” He buried his face against her neck. “You’re so good for me. You make me feel things I never felt before. I’m a son, a brother, and an uncle, but I never felt truly alive until you came into my life.” He lowered her to the bed, his body following. “It was as if I had to challenge death to see who would come up the winner.”

  “Oh, Matt,” Eve whispered against his mouth.

  “I’ve traveled all over the world,” he continued, “not knowing what I was searching for. Now I know I was looking and waiting for someone like you. You’ve made it all so very worthwhile, Baby.”

  Eve didn’t know why, but she felt like crying. His confession meant more than a declaration of love.

  She cradled his head to her breasts. “You’re home, Matt.”

  He turned her and pulled her to his chest, her buttocks pressed to his belly and groin. “Tell me all about yourself, Eve. Any and everything you can remember.”

  Eve walked out of the house the following morning and saw Matt leaning against the bumper of his car. He was clothed entirely in black: shirt, slacks, and shoes.

  She walked several feet beyond him in the driveway. The Range Rover was parked behind the house and Matt’s Lincoln was readied for the trip to Puerto Escondido.

  She was going to miss the blazing orange and pink sunsets, the colorful birds and exotic butterflies and the creeping, trailing vines and wildflowers surrounding their private waterfall and pool.

  Matt moved over and stood behind her and she settled back against his chest as if she had been doing it for years. Somewhere, somehow, they had settled into the routine, and neither of them consciously had given it a second thought. Without realizing it they had become a couple.

  Eve closed her eyes. His fingers tightened on her waist. She found Matt’s presence, his touch, comforting. They had spent the night talking and laughing over incidents from their pasts, becoming friends as well as lovers.

  “I’m going to miss this place,” she whispered hoarsely.

  “We’ll come back, Preciosa,” Matt stated in a quiet tone. “We’ll make certain to come back before we leave Mexico.”

  Antonio and Pilar Arroyo greeted their grandson and his wife with a mixture of tears and passionate embraces. Eve and Matt were not given an opportunity
to protest as they were led through an open courtyard and garden at the rear of the large house to partake of some liquid refreshment before retiring to their bedroom for the siesta.

  Matt moved quickly to seat his grandmother, but Antonio waved him away. “Seat your own wife, Mateo. I’ll take care of mine,” he snapped, ignoring the flush darkening the younger man’s face. “I’m not so old that I can’t take care of what belongs to me,” he continued, leaning over and kissing the dry, paper-thin cheek of Pilar.

  Matt successfully concealed his scowl as he offered Eve a cushioned chair. He doubted whether she understood his grandfather’s scathing reprimand.

  Antonio’s light brown eyes were still bright even though he had recently celebrated his eighty-fourth birthday. The hot sun had darkened and creased his skin until it resembled soft, worn leather. A fringe of white hair covered his tanned pate, and he ran a thin, heavily veined hand over his face in a weary gesture.

  He flashed a tired smile at his grandson’s wife. “Are you trying to learn Spanish, nieta?” he questioned in English, his firm mouth tightening in a manner which reminded Eve of Matt’s. “My son-in-law has been married to my daughter for more than forty years, and somehow he never got around to learning more than a few words.”

  “I can assure you that I’ve learned more than a few words,” Eve said in halting Spanish.

  Antonio sat up straighter in his chair. “Very good.” He motioned to a young woman who had approached silently with a pitcher and glasses on a large tray.

  Pilar Arroyo spoke quietly with the woman after she’d placed the glasses on the table, instructing her to make certain a bedroom had been readied for her grandson and his wife’s siesta.

  Pilar was a tiny, white-haired, shy woman who spoke very little English. On their journey to Puerto Escondido, Matt had revealed that Pilar had allowed Antonio to make all of the decisions in their sixty-five years of marriage. Antonio loved her as passionately now as he had when he first met her, and there were times when he exhibited fierce displays of jealousy.