by Lisa G Riley
“Isn’t this precisely why you bought the couch?”
Brian didn’t even bother to look over to where it sat in a corner of the room. “You know I can never make it over there,” he said unrepentantly and wiggled his hips as she pushed his pants and boxers down around his knees. He made quick work of her jeans and underwear and lay on top of her, groaning appreciatively when she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Damn thing probably has cobwebs on it by now,” he muttered and grinned when she laughed against his mouth.
Amusement ended abruptly when he slid into her, and knowing she liked to suck his tongue as he moved within her, he slipped it into her mouth. Her knees came up to dig into his hips and he broke from the kiss to press his forehead to hers. “I can’t go slowly,” he panted.
“I don’t want you to,” she whispered back.
Chapter Four
Puerto Peñasco, Sonora, Mexico
“Hola, Esencia. What would you like to do this morning?”
The woman known as Essence Carter turned from contemplating the lovely view of the stunningly blue Gulf of California the breakfast room’s bay window afforded her. She smiled and rolled her eyes chidingly at her friend Rafael Guerrera. They’d only met six months before, but she felt as if she’d known him for years.
He groaned and she smiled. “What is it today, Rafe?”
Releasing the biggest put-upon sigh she’d ever heard, he stalked over to her and taking her wrists in his hands, spread her arms wide and took a quick study of her body, shaking his head all the while. “I am afraid, my darling, that you have failed yet again to clothe yourself properly. You have the kind of body that positively cries for haute couture – long, skinny, elegant – yet you are determined to drape it in swap meet specials.” He lifted the thick braid lying neatly against her chest. “And this hair,” he gasped dramatically, “my dear, it is absolutely criminal to neglect it this way.”
Essence laughed. He, of course, was dressed beautifully in a white linen suit. She pulled her braid from his hand. “Hey! Leave my hair out of it; it’s too hot for me to wear it any other way except in a bun or ponytail. And what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“This…this…thing is more like a sack,” he argued as he grabbed at the extra material at her waist. “It should be more fitted to show off your figure. I’ve seen people who have lived on the streets for years dressed more attractively than you.”
Essence slapped his hands loose and turned away. “The dress is perfectly fine.” She picked up a straw hat and placed it on her head. She thought about her regular clothing in her closets at home in Chicago and bit back a wistful sigh before it could escape. Little did Rafael know, but she was normally thought of as a fashion plate by her friends and family, and she detested the clothes she had to wear for this mission. The entire wardrobe would have been better suited to a woman four times her age. Alas, she’d been told she had to keep it simple and to dress as unobtrusively as possible to stay in keeping with her cover as a shy and somewhat insecure geek. The disguise was also supposed to keep attention away from her, particularly that of the head bad ass, rumored to be a man with an insatiable lust who took what he wanted from whoever had it because he believed he was entitled to have what or whomever he desired.
Rafeal’s exaggerated gasp when she turned wearing the hat made her shake her head in amusement. His clutching at his chest as if he were having a heart attack made her burst out laughing. “Whatever, Rafe,” she said and punched him lightly on the shoulder.
He laughed as well and pinched her cheek as a favorite uncle would do. “Ah, it’s too bad you’re not my type. I could totally spend my life with you.”
She kissed his cheek. “Yes,” she said dryly. “So sorry I was born female.”
“So am I, my darling, so am I,” he muttered. “Thanks so much for coming here and agreeing to be my beard. Tio Miguel is not the sort to understand one man’s desire for another. As I got older, the yearly command appearances at the family compound became more and more uncomfortable as I was questioned about my lack of a girlfriend, so a couple of years ago I started asking friends to come and pretend. It’s lucky for me you and I met at that café in Georgetown all those months ago because both of my usual beards were unavailable.”
Feeling guilty because she’d gone to that café for the express purpose of meeting him so she could gain an invitation to the family’s home, she looked away from his smile. He’d been chosen because he was closest in age to her and was considered one of his family’s weakest links. Her agency had a thick and thorough file on Rafael and knew everything about him down to the last detail. She’d studied the file until she couldn’t see straight, and then to the letter had followed the agency psychiatrist’s instructions on how to get close to him. She hadn’t counted on liking him so much, however.
“Will you stop thanking me, Rafe?” she asked plaintively. “I’ve told you a million times that it’s not a problem. And besides, look at the splendor you’ve brought me to. All I had to do was agree to come.”
“And miss a couple of weeks of school, and quite possibly graduation.”
Her being a student on the verge of graduation was another lie the agency had concocted, but she managed to smile and say, “Oh, no, I can’t miss graduation. My parents would never forgive me. If it comes down to the wire, you’re on your own because I’ll be on the first plane out of here.”
“I was only teasing, Esencia. You should know me well enough by now to tell when I’m joking.” He took her hands in his and leaned in to kiss her nose. “Now, I believe you wanted to take a cruise to Bird Island today.”
“Yes. I’d love to see the dolphins.” The place looks optimal for some initial reconnaissance work.
“Ah, sobrino. You take your lovely young lady out to enjoy the sites of our paradise today, eh?”
Essence shivered and turned to look into the dark, cunning and always assessing eyes of Miguel Guerrera, her assignment. She studied him from beneath her lashes. If I have to kill you before this is all over…I wonder…will you die easy?
“Buenos dias, Tio Miguel. Si, I will be taking Esencia to see the dolphins – something she has been begging me to do almost since we arrived yesterday,” he finished with a teasing smile at Essence.
Essence did her best to look flustered and lowered her eyes. “Don’t make fun of me, Rafe,” she began in a shy tone, “You know how much I love all marine life. I’m just a little excited, that’s all.”
Laughing, Rafe took her hand and began to swing their arms between them companionably. “I know, mi amor, but teasing you is so easy and too much fun to resist.” He lifted her hand to his lips and bussed her fingers. “Forgive me?”
“Yes, of course,” Essence said softly, still playing her role as best she could.
“Oh, come now, my darling,” Rafe crooned. “I won’t believe you until you look me in the eye and tell me so and then honor me with one of your sweet kisses.”
Essence wanted to kick him in the shins, but what she did was throw him a look of warning. The rat was smiling devilishly and then he had the nerve to actually wink at her. Peripherally, she looked at Miguel, who seemed to be waiting expectantly. She smiled shyly once again and moved into Rafe’s arms, burying her face in his chest as if she were embarrassed. “Rafe,” she protested, drawing his name out in three syllables. “You’re embarrassing me!” And then she bit him. It wasn’t as vicious as she’d wanted to make it, but it was enough to make him jump in surprise.
He slipped his hand under her chin and lifted her face from his chest. She bared her teeth at him, but could see he still thought this was great fun. “Oh, come, Esencia, just one kiss,” he coaxed and transferring his hands to the sides of her face, bent his head.
Resigned, Essence let him kiss her, but bit his bottom lip and then murmured, “Your murder will be a slow one,” against his mouth.
Rafe laughed out loud and threw an arm around her shoulder. He kissed her temple and whispered, �
�So you like it rough, too, eh?”
Essence could only laugh and shake her head.
His arm still around her shoulders, Rafe herded her towards the exit. “We will see you later, tio,” he said as they came abreast of Miguel.
Miguel inclined his head. “Goodbye, sobrino. Senorita Thompson.”
“Goodbye, Senor Guerrera.” She felt his gaze on her as they left and wondered if he were suspicious of her. It wasn’t the first time, and she wish she knew his intent. His gaze didn’t feel menacing, just assessing. If it were threatening, at least she’d know where she stood, but as it was, his studying of her could mean any number of things.
“Why does your uncle call you that name, uh, so-sobrono, I think it was?” She asked Rafe once they were in the car. Another deception. She actually spoke Spanish fluently, that and three other languages besides English.
“No, it’s sobrino,” Rafe corrected as he took a right turn. “It simply means ‘nephew’.”
“Oh. Well, you didn’t exaggerate, Rafe. This certainly is paradise. And your family’s compound! My goodness, it’s massive!”
Rafe’s smirk was nothing less than cynical. “Yes, well, you can afford massive when you make more than a billion dollars a year.”
“I know you don’t like that your uncles are into drug smuggling, Rafe, but if you hate it so much, why do you stay in contact?” Of course she’d already known, but he’d told her about the family business when he’d first proposed her coming to the compound with him, telling her that he wanted her to have all the facts before she made up her mind. He promised her that she’d be safe because his uncles didn’t work out of the Puerto Peñasco house. It was purportedly used strictly for relaxation and pleasure.
“I stay in contact because this is family. I was taught that you don’t turn your back on family, no matter what they do. And besides, I love them. I can’t just walk away.”
“I understand, and I’m sorry.” She paused, really hating herself, but she had a job to do. “Are all of your uncles involved in the family business?”
“Well, I only have three, and yes, they’re all involved. As are most of my male cousins, of which I have legion. It’s just so hard, you know? I love them, but I know they are doing such wrong in the world. They know it, too, of course, but it either doesn’t faze them or they justify it by saying the family needed to get into the business in order to feed itself.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, how did your family actually get into the business?”
Rafe winced, but began his story. “It’s not pretty. In the seventies, my uncle Francesco lost his job as a janitor and couldn’t find another one. He came up with the idea to plant marijuana in these empty fields. Pretty soon, he brought my uncles in on it and they started buying farms, which they turned into what they call marijuana cultivation centers.” He took his eyes off the road briefly to look at her. “You know what those are?”
She shrugged. “I can guess. Go on.”
“Okay, so the cultivation centers proved to be a huge success, as you can imagine. From there, they hooked up with one of the country’s biggest cocaine exporters and they formed the Guerrera Cartel. Through the cocaine guy, they became one of the first cartels to begin shipping cocaine in from Columbia. There are operations in the states of Jalisco, Durango, Hidalgo, etcetera, etcetera. And there you have it my dear: my family’s sordid story.”
“Wow. And they make most of their money by smuggling it into the U.S.?”
“Yes.”
“But how?”
Rafe shrugged. “I don’t know the hows and the wheretos. I just know they do it. I try to know as few details as possible about current operations. What I just gave you is background, family history.”
“I’m sorry I upset you, Rafe,” she said sincerely. “I hope you can forgive my curiosity.”
“Certainly. I’d be curious too if I were you.”
“What will you do if they demand that you join them in the family business?” she asked.
He winced. “Oh, I’m getting more pressure from that direction already. In fact, I have a suspicion that this trip they will try to reel me in. I think I can no longer use school as an excuse.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well before, I would just beg off by saying I couldn’t because school was much too important. That excuse will no longer work. I already have two Master degrees. My uncles backed off, but barely.”
Essence rubbed his arm in sympathy. “I’m sorry,” she said. “PhD?”
“No. They will not accept that; especially now that Tio Francesco has been arrested. They want all the family together.”
“And you said he was arrested in Arizona, right?” When he nodded, she continued, “What will you do?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to give up my family, but my conscience will not allow me to do such evil work, either. However, Tio Miguel is likely to cut me off without a cent if I don’t obey.”
“Well, Rafe, you’re twenty-six and have two degrees. You could make a fine living on your own.”
“Yes, but I would not be able to live in the manner to which I’m accustomed, and for me, that is key.”
Essence shook her head, but only said, “Then try hocking some of those fabulous designs of yours you showed me. Get them in front of the right people, and you could probably make a mint.”
Rafe’s chuckle held no amusement. “Oh, that would never do, Esencia. I am a Guerrera, and I could never sully the family name with such a feminine profession. Do you know why I majored in Spanish and history in college and not fashion design? Because not only would I have been cut off from the family and the family’s money if I had, but they likely would have hurt me very badly and dragged me back to Mexico. So, I took my required courses and sneaked in sewing classes and fashion merchandising classes whenever I had an opportunity.”
“Would they really have, Rafe? Hurt you, I mean?” she asked sadly.
“Yes, I have no doubt that they would have.”
Essence mulled this over in her head, wondering how she could help him in some way. She modeled some herself under her real name, but primarily in Europe and Japan. Rafe had no idea that she modeled, and that she had contacts with designers. The fact that they were European would probably work better for him. She filed that away for later and decided to talk to her handler about it.
She sat back in her seat. Of course the agency knew how the cocaine was being smuggled into the States. They just didn’t know exactly where. They’d find one tunnel and it would be shut down, only to have another one or two or twelve crop up elsewhere. She was there to get as much information as she could, the kind of information that they could parlay into a conviction and perhaps a dismantling of all operations. The agency believed that they were smuggling the drugs through a system of ranches along the Mexico/U.S. border, but had been unsuccessful in finding any of those places.
It was a complex and clever operation, she knew. Yes, they’d caught the oldest brother, Francesco, but that had been through sheer luck. A sheriff in the small Arizona border town of McArthur was nervous about illegal border crossings and was ever diligent in driving along the border his town shared with Mexico. One particular night, he’d seen a man, or as he’d stated, “a big Mex walkin’ along all suspicious-like.”
The sheriff had stopped him and asked him where he was going and what he was doing. When the Mexican man had said he was visiting his daughter and was just out for a walk, the sheriff had decided to take him in just to be on the safe side. The Mexican man had turned out to be Francesco Guerrera, a big fish on the Drug Enforcement Agency’s most wanted list. The sheriff didn’t know who he had on his hands and just tossed Guerrera in a cell after he’d asked for ID and Guerrera couldn’t produce any.
Francesco Guerrera, a man with a million dollar bounty on his head and who was wanted for suspicion in the killing of a DEA agent, had spent the night in a two-celled jailhouse, been served coffee and bacon and eggs the ne
xt morning and was about to be sent on his way by the clueless sheriff when his deputy reported for his shift and recognized him.
All hell had broken loose then, and the DEA had swooped in and grabbed him. And now Francesco Guerrera found himself an unwilling guest of the federal government of the United States. But they still didn’t know any more now than they did before he’d been captured. Essence sighed. She didn’t work for the DEA, not exactly. Her agency was run by a collective from the alphabet soup of agencies the United States called its intelligence community. She supposed she liked her job. She’d certainly been training for it her entire life, anyway. And that of course was an accident. She was what you got when a disillusioned former female member of the American Black Power Movement married and reproduced with an Iranian-American dissident who could trace his family’s roots all the way back to the Lasiqs of the Order of the Assassins, an order founded in the eleventh century.
She adjusted her seatbelt and thought about exactly what she’d tell her boss when she reported in today. And then she smiled, as an idea took root and began to flourish. It was less than he deserved, she thought, for being such an all-knowing butt head who had tried to convince the agency not to recruit her. Yes, she knew he had. He’d taken pleasure in telling her that almost every single day of her training. She snickered softly. Oh, yes. Captain Blowhard is in for a surprise.
COOP found himself wishing he could somehow reach through the phone and wring her long, graceful neck. “Paragon,” he tried to say calmly. “If you move your skinny butt from Sonora even one second before you have permission to do so, I will personally come down there – ”
“Oh, calm down, boss man,” Essence crooned into the phone. “The risk would be minimal, and I’d be really careful, I promise.”