by Nana Prah
Or a crappy undercover protection job that lands an agent rotting in jail for a week waiting for her charge to arrive so she can get home.
To keep the conversation rolling, Sarita asked, “Do you like your job?”
Looking into his eyes, she could see the distinction between his pupils and his deep brown irises. At that point, she didn’t care if he never answered the question. She stood and moved closer as his eyes drew her to him. She stopped when her belly hit the barrier of the desk.
Their gazes held and she could have sworn he moved toward her just a little bit, before shaking his head and stepping back.
“What kind of question is that?”
Sarita blinked. The sparks zipping between them kept her standing against the desk counter. The need to be closer overwhelmed her.
She’d damn the assignment but she couldn’t. If it hadn’t been for this mission, she wouldn’t be going through this sweet agony. She’d never have met Carter. “It’s a legitimate question. You either like being a prison guard or you don’t.”
He ran a hand through his curly hair. “I guess it depends on the day.”
“What about today?”
His gaze locked onto hers. “Today, I love my job.”
In the dim lighting could he detected her flush?
He cleared his throat. “You’ve been asking all the questions. It’s my turn.”
She angled her eyes up in what she hoped made her appear coy as she reflected his words back at him. “I can’t promise to answer, but you can ask.”
“Cute, Cerez. What are you going to do when you get to Columbia?”
He’d blindsided her. She had no desire to respond. “I haven’t thought about it.” She spoke the truth, knowing she’d end up in her cozy little apartment upon her release.
“Really?”
She couldn’t blame him for not believing her. “I tend to live in the moment. I find thoughts of my journey to Columbia upsetting so I don’t dwell on it. I’ll deal with it when I get there.”
He shook his head. “You’re different. All of the other ICE detainees are scared about what’s going to happen when they get to their homeland, but you’re taking it all in stride. The way you behave sometimes makes me wonder about your sanity.”
She jutted out her chin. “Have you just insulted me by calling me crazy?”
“I didn’t mean it as an insult, more like an observation.”
“That’s not any better. For your information. I’m as sane as you are.”
His sarcastic smile reached his eyes. “And have you really measured my sanity?”
She should sing praises to Lucinda the Giant for giving her this chance to be with him. She still didn’t know his first name, but they now shared more than stares across the room between the other inmates.
“Aren’t you tired of standing?” he asked.
Accustomed to being on her feet for long stretches of time while working with dignitaries to the country, these few minutes hadn’t registered. “Not really.”
“I’m getting tired from watching you stand. How about if we move to the television area?”
What if she touched him to see if the current flowing between them would shock her? Better yet, what if they moved to the blind spot so she could kiss his perfect lips? She felt her stomach knot, knowing there would be no desk acting as a barrier between them. “Sure.”
She waited until he came around the desk before leading the way to the couch, feeling his eyes on her. She grinned, allowing her hips to sway a little more.
Chapter 10
He shouldn’t be doing this. Fraternizing with an inmate was hovering in dangerous territory. For the first time in his career, he couldn’t bring himself to care about the rules.
Spencer would be back within forty-five minutes to relieve him for his break. He had no desire to leave her, not even to appease his grumbling stomach.
What made her so amazing? More than her beauty--she possessed a magnetism he couldn’t resist. Or maybe he drew her to him. Mere inches had separated them from a kiss before he remembered the cameras overhead watched their every move. How could he have lost sense of his environment? His only thought during those tantalizing moments had been to lean over and possess her lips.
Even now, his muscles strained as he gripped the arms of the chair. Holding back from pulling her into his arms, he said, “I want to know more about you, but we don’t have a lot of time left before Spencer gets back.” Other than his job, what did he have to lose?
Her head slanted at an angle. What could her clever mind be up to?
Sarita again asked, “Will you tell me your first name?”
He had to hand it to her, she knew the meaning of persistence Staying strong he muttered, “No.”
She grunted. “Had to try didn’t I? What do you want to know?”
“What work did you do before landing in here?”
She looked him in the eyes without wavering. “I was a bodyguard.”
He craned his neck forward. “You’re shittin’ me.”
“Not at all.”
“How does an illegal immigrant become a bodyguard?”
Before he came to the ICE unit, immigrants were the least of his problems. After eavesdropping on some of their conversations, he’d found that their survival tactics had amazed instead of appalled him.
Most of them wanted a better life, but attempted to achieve it in a way that turned out to be punishable by law.
The sound of her laughter rocked him with a shiver. Damn she had a pretty laugh, a pleasant voice, a luscious curvy body.
“What makes you think a bodyguard has to have papers to work? I have skills which I know how to use. That was all the verification I needed.”
Awe filled his voice as he shifted to the edge of the chair. “That’s how you took out Harris so easily.”
“Who told you it was easy? Taking that behemoth down made me sweat. People out of their minds are always difficult to restrain. They live in a world of decreased sensation so you have to be brutal.”
He leaned forward resting his forearms on his legs. The woman he loved could match him in fighting. In fact, she could probably beat him down, but he’d never let her know. “Did you find it difficult to be hard on her?”
Odd, but her snarl emphasized her beauty. “She sought my blood. I don’t know who or what she thought I existed as, but she didn’t want me around. There was no reasoning with her. I had to either take her down or go down myself. I always prefer to be the last one standing.”
He nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. There had only been a few times in his career where he’d had to restrain an inmate.
He’d done it with necessary force, knowing the prisoner would be glad to kill him if it could gain him his freedom.
She pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “Back to me.”
Matt held his breath. His gaze lingered on her mouth as he wondered just how soft they would feel against his own. He looked up at her eyes. She seemed to be waiting for him to answer a question he hadn’t heard. “Pardon me.”
She smiled. She must have read his mind a few seconds ago because she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, making them appear even more succulent.
“The question, prison guard Carter, is do you have any plans of fulfilling your dream and going into the Secret Service?”
Should he confide in her? His gut told him he could trust her with his secret, yet the fact that she’d been detained in prison for residing in the country illegally didn’t bode well.
“I haven’t told anyone yet, not even my family, but I’ve been accepted into their training program.”
Was she on the verge of jumping up to hug him? After standing up, she sat back down again, smoothing her hands against her pants. “That’s great, Carter. I can see you in the role.”
“You can?” he asked, his tone dry. What did she know about them?
“Sure. You’re intelligent and observant. I’d guess that
you pay attention to your instincts. I wouldn’t be out here if I’d gone to you instead of Atherby with my complaint about Harris.”
Her gaze roamed over him from head to toe as a horse trainer would assess a Thoroughbred. He forced himself to sit still.
“You’re in shape from what I can tell and you’re a good prison guard. I can see why the agency picked you.”
The agency? The way she said it, as if on a familiar basis with them, set off something in his gut.
If she noticed the shift within him, she didn’t let on. “When do you go for training?”
He decided to ignore his initial impressions. She was in prison on a pit stop to her homeland. What would she know about the Secret Service? Maybe she watched lots of movies.
“They said two months.” He hadn’t spoken to anyone about this new upcoming adventure in his life. It felt good to share the information with her. “I’m a little nervous.” He cleared his throat with embarrassment and plundered on. “I’ve wanted this for so long and now it’s in my grasp. I’m not sure what to do with myself.”
Once again, she looked on the cusp of moving to him. If he willed it hard enough, would she land herself in his lap? Instead, she leaned back against the couch.
“I’m sure you’ll do well. I heard the training isn’t as hard as they let on.”
His skin tingled as the nagging feeling refused to be ignored. “Where did you hear this?”
“I have a good friend who’s in the field.”
“You like to live life on the edge don’t you, Cerez? An illegal alien having a government agent as a friend? Now I’ve heard it all.”
She shrugged. “I like to get to know people everywhere I go. I’m personable. Besides, I never gave her any reason to suspect me. She’s Secret Service.” She scoffed “They protect diplomats and important people like that, not look for illegal immigrants.”
“How did you meet her?”
For a split second something odd flashed into her eyes. Whether fear, doubt or guilt, he’d never know.
“I worked as a bouncer at this club she frequented. We got along.”
She couldn’t be for real. But why would she lie? Don’t lose sight that she’s a prisoner. “I can’t see you as a bodyguard and definitely not as a bouncer.”
“Can you see me as an illegal immigrant?”
“You’re here under ICE so I have no choice.”
“Ah, but if we were on the outside, could you see me as an illegal?”
How would I know what an illegal alien looks like? It’s not like they change color once they’ve overstayed their visa. One thing disturbed him about her. He knew for certain that she didn’t belong here. She didn’t react to being in jail like the other inmates. Even the tougher ones showed some sort of fear, but not Sarita. She appeared to be biding time, but that made no sense.
No, he couldn’t see her as an illegal immigrant, but he wouldn’t admit it out loud. “You’ve asked more questions than you were supposed to. It’s my turn now.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“What are you going to do when you get back to Columbia?”
“Get original, Carter. You’ve already asked that.”
“You never answered.”
“I don’t think you could handle the truth.”
He smirked. “Who are you, Jack Nicholson?”
The cutest cleft appeared between her eyebrows when she drew them together. “What?”
“From the movie, a Few Good Men?”
“Oh, I never saw it, but I remember the line.” She crossed her legs. The simple move held him spell bound. What did they look like under that uniform? Paler than the delicious light brown complexion of her face? “You like to watch movies?”
He’d been a breath away from responding before realizing her ploy. “You can’t get out of answering the question through distraction techniques.”
“You’re tough.”
He’d get his answer, even if it took all night.
“Okay. What if I tell you I have no intention of going back to Columbia?” Her chuckle was rich and deep. “I’m joking. Carter. Put your eyes back into your head. Jeez. I’ll do what everyone else does when they get home. Relax and visit the family I haven’t seen in years. Honestly, I have no idea what will happen afterward. I’ve made no plans for a life in Columbia.” Her index finger pointed in his direction. “But rest assured, joining a drug cartel is not on the list.”
He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and threw off nonexistent sweat. “Whew. You had me worried for a second.”
They shared a laugh. He finally had a clear understanding of why she and Monica had spent most of their waking hours together giggling. His Columbian princess enjoyed life.
She considered him for a few seconds before asking, “What do you do for fun?”
“What makes you think I know how to have fun?” He set his face into a stern frown. “I’m a serious guy by nature.”
“You forget that I’ve seen a small snippet of your entertaining side.”
“I like to train. I’m a martial artist.” He never shared that information with people. His desire for her to see him in a different light had snaked the words out of him. Judging from her lop-sided grin and nodding head, she appreciated his skills as much as he did hers. “I watch football. I’ll read any suspense or mystery book that’s put in front of me, and I’m a movie buff.” He cringed. How had his life gotten so dull?
She picked at a piece of lint on the couch. “You didn’t mention hanging out with a wife or a girlfriend.”
Her unease pleased him. Once again, the thick yellow crime scene tape would be crossed as he broke yet another rule. He wanted to share everything, even his life, with her.
The thought should have caused dread to overtake him, yet a sense of peaceful acceptance made him relax his shoulders. As inappropriate as the situation had turned out to be, she was his. At least until she returned to Columbia in...what? A few days? A week? No matter when, she would go. “No. No wife or girlfriend to hang out with.”
Her chest deflated with her released breath. He wished he could have taken her air into himself. I’m screwed. “What about you? Are you married or have a boyfriend waiting to break you out of here at the first opportunity?”
Her eyes blazed into his. “Single as single can be.”
The admission sparked something deep within him. He had to touch her. Nothing else mattered except having his fingers glide over her flawless mocha skin.
The all-encompassing urge pushed him to stand. With a controlled effort he strode to the area across from the television and leaned against the wall.
On every unit, one spot existed where neither the cameras nor inmates could see.
Management knew about it, but the cost of adding a third camera would be too expensive for the facility to contemplate so they left it. At least that’s the story Matt had been told.
He’d never used the spot, but as he waited for her to join him, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. He beckoned her over to him with a crook of his index finger.
“Come here.”
***
Sarita gasped when he strode to the blind spot. At his order to come to him, she took her time to walk around the couch instead of bounding over it. Wouldn’t that have been telling?
As his calloused fingers grazed her cheek, her eyes fluttered closed at the intense sensations his touch evoked. She forced them open. The surreal feeling of the moment took over. Time slowed each movement, allowing her to relish their closeness, their heat, savoring the anticipation of the inevitable.
He leaned down until they were nose to nose. The smell of his woodsy cologne encapsulated her, carrying her to another place where only they existed. She couldn’t stand the separation a second longer. She reached up to graze his mouth. He jerked back and smiled. Not amusing.
He leaned down and their lips touched for the slightest of seconds.
When he pulled away, his gaze pierced into hers
. He captured her hungry lips and, this time, stayed. Closing her eyes, she zoned in on the pleasure he was creating. The sensations overwhelmed her. She needed more of him. A moan escaped.
He teased her lips apart. As he deepened the kiss, she clung to his broad shoulders, relishing each stroke of his tongue as if it was the only thing she’d ever lived to do.
Their breaths came in small pants when he pulled away. Now that she’d tasted him, she needed more. His mouth crashed down, devouring her. When his hands glided up her ribs toward her breasts, she whimpered with longing.
He dragged his mouth from hers, practically leaping out of the blind spot. Dazed she staggered, slamming her hands against the wall to stabilize herself.
Barely able to catch her breath, she pivoted and stumbled forward, allowing the couch to catch her when her knees buckled.
He stood near the guard’s desk, breathing as if he’d run onto the unit to respond to an emergency. “I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened.”
The husky timbre of his voice sent delicious tingles crawling all over her skin. She wouldn’t accept his unnecessary apology. “It’s what people do when they’re attracted to each other.”
Her fingers covered her swollen lips. The sweetness and then the passion had overtaken them.
He moved to slump into the chair he’d occupied earlier, holding his head in his hands. “What is it about you that gets my blood boiling, Cerez?”
She turned away in an attempt to hide her disappointment. After the intensity of their encounter, he still saw her as an inmate, not worthy of calling her by her first name.
“It must be because I’m awesome.”
His low chuckle sent a wave of desire through her. “That you are.”
They sat in silence lost in their own thoughts.
The outside door opened. “I’m baaaacccckkkk,” Spencer mimicked the phrase from the old Poltergeist movie. “You can go for your break now.”
The longing in Carter’s eyes when he looked at her sent a sudden hiss of air through her teeth.
Carter stood. “I’ll do the rounds first.”