“He wants us to watch her to prove that she’s cheating on him.”
“Why do you think that?”
I just shook my head. “Instinct.”
“Whatever’s going on here, you keep your nose out of it. Just watch the girl, keep her safe. Nothing more.”
“Of course.”
“And don’t keep her locked up. Let her go to the store if she wants. Just…keep an eye on her.”
“And do I report back to him when she meets with her lover on my watch?”
David shot me a dark look. “Keep your nose out of it.”
I nodded, but if there was one thing I hated in this world, it was a woman who cheated on her man. How sick do you have to be to get off on sleeping around behind the back of a man who swore to always be faithful? I would never understand that kind of mentality no matter how often I saw it.
I settled back and watched David, the lawyer, and Alvarez haggle over the contract. I didn’t need to be there for that part, but that was the way it worked out sometimes. I got up and wandered the room, looking at some of the rare books Alvarez had on his shelves. He had very eclectic taste in his reading material. Or the advice he got from his advisors on his collections.
When it was all done, there were handshakes all around. Someone called a cab for David and someone else gave me a quick tour of the common areas of the house. Then Alvarez pointed me upstairs.
“My wife’s rooms are on the second floor, at the back of the house. The second door on the right.”
“You’re not going to introduce us?”
Alvarez glanced at his watch. “I really don’t have time. I’m sure you can handle it.”
Again, this overwhelming sense of distaste washed over me as I looked at Alvarez. But I was polite, simply inclining my head before I turned and headed up the stairs.
The second floor of the palatial house was just as impressive as the first. There was a huge landing that sported a massive chandelier over the center where there was a sitting area set up, complete with skylights that kept the area bright and airy all the time. There were dozens of doors, most on the far side of the landing. Double doors dotted two spots at the front of the house, two at the back. On the right there were two doors. I walked to the second, as instructed, and knocked.
A petite woman with dark hair and electric blue eyes opened the door. She was dressed in jeans and a concert tee—The Stones—her feet bare and her hair pulled back into a simple braid. I felt like a giant, looking down at her, like the ogre standing over his female victim. But then her eyes narrowed and she moved to slam the door on me.
“Mrs. Alvarez,” I said, pushing the door open with my forearm, “I’ve been hired by your husband to watch over you.”
“You’re my bodyguard?” She scoffed, a soft snort coming from her pretty, upturned nose. “Do you think you’re the first?”
“Mrs. Alvarez, I just—”
“My name is Brooks. No one calls me Mrs. Alvarez.”
“Brooks. I’m to stay with you while your husband is out of the country.”
A sort of panic seemed to come over her as the words fell from my lips. She suddenly turned and pushed past me, rushing out of the room. I gave chase, not really sure if I should stop her from leaving her rooms. This was her home, after all.
I was a bit behind her, reaching the bottom of the stairs just in time to see her cross the entryway and grab Alvarez’s arm.
“You can’t do this! You can’t keep me a damn prisoner!”
Alvarez seemed almost indifferent to the anger and fear written on her face. And annoyed. Deeply annoyed. He grabbed her arms and pulled her back around a little alcove there in the entryway that was designed as a sort of mudroom, a place to set wet shoes and jackets during a storm. I started to cross the room, automatically wanting to see what was going on, but Alvarez’s men stepped into my path, blocking me. It wasn’t but a minute before they came out again, Alvarez slightly short of breath and Brooks slightly paler, quieter.
“We must go now or we’ll be late for the first set of meetings,” Alvarez said, not talking to anyone in particular. Maybe to everyone.
Brooks didn’t respond. She walked toward me, her head tilted toward the floor.
“Brooks,” Alvarez said quietly, his eyes flashing on me for just an instant, “won’t you give me a proper send off?”
I could see the tension that immediately came into her body, the way she hesitated before turning to him with a forced smile. I remembered that kind of reaction in my mother whenever my father asked for any kind of affection. She always acquiesced, but not happily.
This woman was definitely cheating on her husband.
The awkward kiss they shared a moment later made it even more obvious. It was pretty clear she’d rather be anywhere else than in her husband’s arms.
What a bitch!
Chapter 3
Brooks
I curled up on the loveseat in my suite, tugging the sleeves of a light sweater over my wrists, and tried to concentrate on a magazine. I could feel his presence like a parasite on the back of my neck, this albatross that would forever be strapped around my neck. Just when I thought things had gotten bad enough, Juan brings in this asshole.
“I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to watch me every second.”
“I have my orders.”
“I’m sure you do. Did he tell you that he’s gotten threats on my life? That he thinks that someone might be out to get me because he was such a playboy before he married me?” I laughed, a sound that was less humorous and more sarcastic. “It’s the same line he’s used with all the other security guys he’s hired to watch me.”
“He’s done this before?”
“Every fucking time he’s gone out of the country since we got married.”
“Watch your language!”
I laughed, this time more amused. “Oh, you’re one of those.”
“One of what?”
“Uptight Christian hypocrites.”
“Hypocrites?”
I glanced at him, my heart doing this little flip when my eyes took in the beauty of him. At least Juan had picked a good-looking guy this time. A little distraction was always a nice thing.
He was tall, wide, but not in a sloppy sort of way. He was muscular, his arms straining the arms of the sports coat he was wearing over a pair of dark jeans and a polo shirt. There was a telltale bulge under one arm—he was packing. That didn’t surprise me. Most of Juan’s security dicks carried. But most of them were skinny, dark Latinos. This guy…he was blond, and he had amazing green eyes. And there was this little bit of scruff on his chin that I normally disliked, but there was something about the way it looked on him that made my fingertips itch to touch it.
He was so good looking that I was losing my train of thought.
“Why are Christians hypocrites?”
I shrugged. “They’re all pious and polite in church, but the moment they walk out into the real world, they cheat on their wives, beat their children, and decide who should and shouldn’t be allowed to get married. A bunch of hypocrites.”
“Not all Christians are the same.”
“Enough are hypocritical to make it more a rule than an exception.”
“Then asking you not to use that curse word makes me a hypocrite? You don’t even know if I’m a Christian.”
“You’re right. I don’t know. But if you’re anything like the rest of Juan’s bodyguards, you are.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, but he didn’t say anything. I smiled, liking that I was clearly getting under his skin. Goading these fools was the only fun I had most days.
“Did you grow up here in Texas?”
He glanced at me, his eyes narrowed just slightly. “I don’t really like to share information about my personal life with clients.”
“Yes, well, we’re going to be locked up in here for the better part of a week. Discussions about the weather will get pretty dull pretty quick, don’t you th
ink?”
He shrugged. “The weather changes so quickly here, I don’t see it as a dull conversation piece.”
I snorted again, lifting my magazine off my lap again. “You’ve got to be the most boring of all Juan’s guys. I guess that’s why he left you here with me. Juan tends to like his security guys to be a bit more exciting, if you know what I mean.”
He shook his head so hard that it caught my attention even though I was looking directly at him. When I did look up, his jaw was clenched so hard that he might have done damage to it if he held it that way much longer.
“What?”
He didn’t answer me. But now I was curious.
I got up and crossed the room, stood directly in front of him to force him to look at me.
“You don’t like me, do you?”
Again his eyes narrowed. “It’s not my job to have an opinion of you.”
“Yeah, well, it’s pretty obvious you don’t like me. But I don’t really like you, so I suppose we’re even.”
His eyes narrowed even more. “You’re obviously not a church-going person.”
“You’d be wrong about that. I used to go to church, before I married Juan.”
“Why don’t you go now?”
I snickered. “Does Juan strike you as a church kind of guy? That would require him to believe in a higher power, but Juan’s pretty much convinced he’s the highest power there is.”
He didn’t say anything, my new bodyguard. He was probably another one of those who fell in love with Juan the moment they set eyes on him. There was something about power that made normally intelligent people become babbling saps. I saw it over and over again. It even happened to me, which is why I’m in the situation I’m in. I wish I’d been able to see beyond that charm and power long before I did.
“You’d be surprised to know who I was before Juan. I was actually a fairly nice person.”
“You blame him for changing you?”
“I don’t blame anyone but myself. I’ve made some pretty bad decisions in my life. Marrying Juan is probably at the very top of that list.”
“That’s your excuse for doing what you do?”
“And what do I do? He keeps me locked in this place, keeps me hidden from the world. He’s so paranoid that I’ll do something he can’t control that he won’t let me make a move that he hasn’t completely orchestrated.”
“He’s controlling.”
I laughed. “He’s more than controlling. He’s fucking paranoid!”
“I told you—”
I waved my hand at him. “Forget it. I don’t know why I bother.”
I turned and marched into the bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I was trying to have fun, but he had to go and be a big jerk about it all! I paced my room, trying to figure out what I was going to do now. I’d had everything planned out from the moment Juan informed me he was going down to Mexico. Again. I could see the amusement in his eyes when he told me, assuming that I would be angry or hurt. I wasn’t. It was an opportunity. When Juan and his henchmen were in the house, I couldn’t leave my rooms, let alone scheme to do anything else. But with him gone…the only one standing in my way now was this new bodyguard, who clearly had no idea what he’d just walked into.
I went to the door and pressed my ear to the heavy wood. I couldn’t hear anything, so I told myself that meant he’d settled into a chair and wasn’t paying much attention to what was happening around him. This was probably the only chance I was going to get today.
I went to the balcony doors and scanned the back garden, making sure none of Juan’s men were still patrolling the area. It seemed clear. I silently opened the door, sending up a quick prayer to whoever had made the hinges squeak-free. I could have benefited from these kinds of hinges when I was a teenager sneaking out of my dad’s house. Not that I did that…often.
The balcony was a stone and brick thing that looked something like the balcony Juliet was often seen standing on in well-produced plays. It was a good twelve feet off the ground, but I was in gymnastics when I was a little girl. I carefully climbed over the side closest to the house and braced myself with my toes shoved between two very large stones. Then, slowly, I inched my way down until I was barely hanging onto the bottom side of the balcony. With a deep breath, I dropped to the ground, biting back a moan as I scraped my palms on the brick porch that spanned the back of the house.
I waited a second, my back to the wall, watching the garden for any signs of life and listening to any telltale sounds that might come from my own sitting room. When all remained quiet, I began to run. The faster I got to the back gate, the less time Mr. Bodyguard would have to catch me.
Juan had set his house on three acres of land in the center of this housing development. They could have built seven houses on the land Juan set one house on, but he’d probably paid them well for the privilege. With money, anything can be done. Wasn’t that a lesson I’d learned well?
I ran, dodging rose bushes and sagebrush and holly, running around oak trees and pecans and whatever else he had professionally planted here. Juan didn’t care about the flowers or the nuts, he just wanted the privacy the tall trees and spiny plants offered. And they were definitely an obstacle. I had to slow down a few times to avoid running into one painful plant or another.
I was almost to the gate when I heard feet pounding behind me. Shit, shit, shit! He saw me. He was catching up to me! I ran faster, but I could almost feel his hands on me seconds before he grabbed both my shoulders and pulled me hard down to the ground.
“What the fuck?” he demanded, short of breath, his face red with exertion.
“Let me go!”
He was laying beside me, his upper body pressed into my shoulder, his hand pressing down my other shoulder. The man was a good foot taller than I was, yet he felt the need to use his full weight to hold me down. I didn’t know if I should be offended by that or not.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Anywhere but here!”
“You can’t leave the premises without me.”
“I can’t leave the premises, period.”
His eyebrows rose a little.
“Surely he told you that. ‘She tends to get in trouble when she wanders the premises. And I’d prefer she not go into town unless absolutely necessary.’ It’s the same line he gives to all the bodyguards he hires for me.”
“How many have there been?”
“There’s a new one every few months. So, twelve. Thirteen?”
His grip loosened slightly as he considered that information. I took advantage of it, sliding out from under his touch and rising to my feet. Just as he moved to follow, a voice called out from the other side of the gate.
“Waterfall Security!” the man called. “Has there been a breach here?”
My bodyguard walked over to the gate and yanked it open after using the code on the small number pad. A thin, pimple-faced kid stood on the other side of the gate, his flashlight blinding even in the bright, late afternoon sunlight.
“I’m Elliott Wallace with Gray Wolf Security. I’m afraid we just got a little too close to the perimeter of the property is all. Nothing to concern yourself with.”
“I’ll need to contact Mr. Alvarez.”
Mr. Bodyguard crossed his arms over his chest, puffing himself up to his full height, towering over this teenage cop wannabe. The kid backed up a few paces as he stared up at him.
“I understand you’re just doing your job, but I’m just doing mine. I’d appreciate if you’d leave notifying Mr. Alvarez—who is currently flying to a foreign country as we speak—to me.”
The kid glanced from him to me and back to him. He took a deep breath, then nodded. “Of course. But please make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“No problem.”
Mr. Bodyguard slammed the gate closed the moment the words were out of his mouth, checking to make sure everything was properly locked up again. Then he grabbed my upper arm and began to pull me bac
k up toward the house.
“Why’d you do that? You could have had him tell Juan.”
“And make myself look bad on my first day on the job? Not happening.”
“He would have known it was me and not you.”
“I’m supposed to keep you under control. Therefore, it was my fault.”
“Under control? What am I now? A puppy dog?”
He glanced at me, but he didn’t comment.
I jerked my arm away from him and stormed up the path toward the house, fuming.
“Why didn’t you try to leave while the gate was open? Why didn’t you tell that kid some lie that would get you out of here?”
I glanced back at him. “Because I’m not heartless like you or any of the other people around here.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t want to involve anyone else. The last time I did…it didn’t end well for that person.”
“What does that mean?”
I pulled up short, spinning around to face him. “You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into here. You think you’re working for a businessman, a law-abiding, good citizen. But the truth is, you’re not. You’re working for a very dangerous man.”
“Yeah? Who exactly is Juan Teran Maximillian Alvarez, then?”
I studied his face, finding myself once again drawn to those big, beautiful, green eyes. He had these incredible eyelashes that were slightly darker than the hair on his head. They made his eyes look like they were outlines in some sort of…but I was getting distracted.
I turned around again, heading up to the house. He stayed close to me—I could feel the heat of his presence behind me—but he didn’t touch me, and he didn’t ask any more questions. We walked into the silent house, made cold by the massive air conditioning system, and I suddenly felt as though I was walking into the coffin that would preserve my body for all eternity.
That’s what it was. I was beginning to see that. And I could be okay with it if it weren’t for Jimmy.
I’m so sorry, Jimmy…
Chapter 4
Elliott
We had dinner in the massive kitchen—left over filet mignon from one of the restaurants—in absolute silence. Then I stood in the sitting room of her suite and watched her peruse magazine after magazine until it grew dark and she began to yawn every few pages.
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