Seduction Under Fire

by Melissa Cutler

  “We can do that, too.”

  “Thank you.” Aaron smiled wolfishly at the cupcakes. “Oh, and for the record, Camille and I are only friends. We’re not...”

  “Friends riding together on a horse?” one of the cupcakes asked.

  “Yeah, her horse took off. We didn’t have a choice.”

  Camille shifted her gaze to the rusty brown cliff face, regrouping. It wasn’t that she cared about Aaron’s enthusiastic clarification that they weren’t involved—it was the truth, after all. And she didn’t mind that the girls were angling for a better view of him. He was the most magnificent-looking man she’d ever seen, too. It was just that she was disappointed to have been wrong about him.

  Since being taken hostage, she’d started to believe he’d changed, that underneath his party-boy persona was a respectable man capable of so much more than preening and seducing women. She’d begun to think of the two of them as a team. But she’d been wrong and the misjudgment stung. But she had more important issues to worry about than a man so easily distracted by pretty girls.

  Her thoughts returned to Rosalia, alone and frightened in the compound. Camille hadn’t considered it before, but maybe she’d been dropped in the middle of the Mexican desert for a reason. Maybe this journey wasn’t another case of her rotten luck, but a chance to redeem thirty wasted years. Maybe she needed Rosalia as much as the little girl needed her. A new plan began to take shape in her mind.

  The driver offered his hand to shake. “The name’s Charlie. In the back we’ve got Ana and Sarah.”

  “I’m Aaron and this is Camille.” He waved to the cupcakes, and added a wink for good measure.

  Unbelievable.

  Charlie must have noticed Camille’s discomfort because he patted her hand. “Would you like to ride with us? We have room.”

  His palm was sweaty and his fingers bloated, but he might prove to be a valuable component to her plan.

  “Thank you, Charlie.” And though she wanted to yank her hand away and wipe it on her pants, she gave his fingers a little squeeze. She even pulled off a convincing smile.

  * * *

  He wasn’t being manipulative—that was such an ugly word—but Aaron knew how to be persuasive to women. He knew what they wanted to hear, what little looks and touches would turn them to putty in his hands. Except for Camille. Nothing softened her, but that was beside the point.

  As soon as Aaron saw the women in the Jeep, he knew they were his and Camille’s ticket out of Mexico. All he needed was a little time with them to parse out the details. He regretted Camille’s embarrassment when he distanced himself from her, but he needed the women to think he was available, not some letch trying to cheat on his girlfriend.

  Charlie’s eyes had turned hungry at the revelation he and Camille weren’t an item. Aaron hadn’t counted on that. She’d already proved she could kick ass and take names, but it went against his basic instincts to throw any woman to the wolves, even a cop.

  Not that she seemed to mind. She was laughing and making flirty eyes at Charlie while Aaron was forced to watch through the rearview mirror as he followed the Jeep on horseback. Charlie wasn’t remotely attractive and he was at least twenty years her senior. He seemed like a nice guy, sure, but as spineless as they came. A man like that could no more handle a woman like Camille than a child could handle a pet tiger.

  The camp, though visible from the beach, was nestled into a valley between two foothills and demarcated by two palm-thatched palapas on the beach. One shaded a hammock. Aaron followed the Jeep onto a dirt road that wound among the homes, if he dared use such a polite word to describe the dwellings. Reeking of seaweed, the after-odor of bonfires and marijuana, the settlement was the housing equivalent of a pack of stray dogs. Of the twenty or so places, some were less flea-bitten than others, a few even looked rather domesticated, but the whole lot of them was a mangy bunch of misfits.

  Charlie directed Aaron to the sea-green shack of some absentee neighbors who often brought their horse with them. Sure enough, a wood-and-wire fenced corral was sandwiched on the side of the property. No doubt the animal would be well cared for here. It didn’t seem to have any identifying marks that might prove dangerous if the cartel went on the prowl for their stolen horse, which was a small blessing. To repay this community with the wrath of a vengeful cartel would be unforgivable.

  The hardworking horse had one task left before it could rest, though. Aaron tugged the reins and set off for the perimeter of the settlement to take note of all the paths leading to and from the camp, should they need to make a quick getaway. Jacob would’ve said it was Aaron’s Golden Ticket at work again, but nevertheless, Aaron was relieved to discover only one access point from the west, a steep dirt road leading out of the valley. Perfect.

  He returned to the corral, found feed and grooming supplies and set to work tending the horse.

  “You’re a sneaky man,” a heavily accented female voice behind him said. Ana, if he remembered correctly. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  Seducing these women would be a piece of cake if they were going to throw themselves at him. He kept scrubbing, to see how hard they’d work to get his attention. “Responsibility before pleasure, as they say.”

  “How sensible of you,” she purred. A darkly tanned Latina, she was taller than Sarah and looked to be in her late twenties, with long black hair and a temptress’s body. Not too long ago, Aaron might have quit his job and moved to Mexico for the promise of this woman’s company. But his responsibility to Camille and his desire to make it out of Mexico alive superseded everything else.

  “This horse worked hard today. It deserves a little pampering.”

  “I think I’m jealous of the horse,” Sarah, obviously American judging by her voice, said. A pair of trim, tan legs came into view, complete with a Tinker Bell ankle tattoo. Aaron let his gaze roam over her body, hoping she couldn’t tell how artificial his perusal was.

  “When you’re done here, would you like to freshen up at our place? We have a cell phone you can use to make those other arrangements you mentioned,” Ana said.

  “That would be wonderful. Speaking of other arrangements, how far from the city are we?”

  “We’re fifty miles north of La Paz, where we’re from.”

  The women watched him clean the horse’s hooves. “Fifty miles isn’t so bad. I’m thinking my friend and I could hitch a ride with someone and come back for the horse with a trailer.”

  “We’d be happy to give you and your friend a ride. We’re going home tomorrow afternoon.”

  So far, so good. He put away the grooming supplies and gave the horse a second generous scoop of food.

  “I’m ready to get cleaned up. Lead the way.”

  Sarah and Ana took him by the arms. As they strolled, Aaron asked, “Which one of you owns the house?”

  Sarah answered. “Ana’s brother owns it. He lets us use his place anytime we want.”

  “What kind of work do you do?”

  “We’re both high school teachers, English,” Ana said.

  “I’m from Arizona,” Sarah explained. “I’m teaching here on an exchange program.”

  “It’s a good thing I never had teachers like you two. I would have been a terrible student.”

  “Why is that?” Ana asked, giving his arm an extra squeeze.

  “Just so you’d keep me after class.”

  The women giggled right on cue. At that moment, Camille came into view, standing by herself in front of Charlie’s powder-blue trailer. She tracked his movement with wary eyes.

  “Here’s our place.” Ana led him to a cottage across the courtyard from Charlie’s house.

  He glanced over his shoulder at Camille. A wrinkle of worry had appeared between her eyebrows. Reluctantly, he turned his back on her and climbed the rickety wooden porch steps. He sure hoped she was smart enough to figure out he hadn’t abandoned her.

  * * *

  Loneliness wasn’t a new emotion for Cam
ille, but one that hit her hard as she watched the door close behind Aaron. Loneliness and betrayal. She stared at the door for a long time while she reined in her emotions and considered her next move.

  A hand brushed her shoulder. Her reaction was instinctive and immediate. Angling her elbow at a point, she whirled to jab her assailant in the stomach.

  “Whoa.” Charlie jumped back with his arms up in surrender.

  “Sorry. I’m a little on edge today.”

  “No harm done. Where’d you learn a move like that?”

  “Self-defense class. A girl can’t be too careful these days.”

  “Right you are. I came to ask if you wanted to get cleaned up at my humble abode.”

  “Thanks. That would be wonderful.”

  He pointed to the black bag at Camille’s feet. “I’m guessing you don’t have a change of clothes in there.”

  “No. I wish.”

  “Well, last year a lady friend came to stay with me, but she left in a huff.” He smiled as though recalling a private joke. “Didn’t take her suitcase. I bet you could find something to fit you.”

  Camille nodded, grateful for the opportunity to shed the nasty jeans. “Thank you, not only for the clothes, but for giving us a place to regroup.”

  “It’s not often a man stumbles on a lovely young lady in need of rescuing.” He draped an arm across her shoulders and guided her to his house.

  Camille tried to fit the image Charlie had of her by acting sweet and demure. She wasn’t used to playing the unsavory role of a damsel in distress but had a lot riding on his belief that she was. Maybe he’d forget she tried to gut him with her elbow.

  * * *

  At sunset, Aaron sat in a white plastic patio chair and wolfed down a second plate of food at the traditional Saturday night communal barbecue. Strands of white lights rimmed the sprawling courtyard and classic rock filtered out through the windows of Charlie’s trailer. Twenty or so people were in attendance, mostly adults with a few kids thrown in. Charlie manned a charcoal grill on his porch with a beer in his hand.

  The shower Aaron took at the teachers’ cottage had been a godsend and Ana had allowed him to rummage through her brother’s closet for clothes. Though he was still exhausted, at least he was clean and fed. He hadn’t seen Camille since freshening up and was beginning to feel uneasy about her absence. He had no time to look for her, though, because the teachers didn’t grant him the tiniest bit of breathing room. As though in competition, they seemed afraid to leave him alone lest the other one gain the advantage.

  He frowned as he scanned the crowd for the thousandth time. Camille had another five minutes to materialize before he went in search of her.

  “What do you think? Aaron, are you listening?” It was Ana.

  “Ask me again?” He’d have to be more attentive if he expected Ana to offer Camille and him a ride to La Paz the next day. Borrowing Sarah’s phone earlier, he’d briefly touched base with Dreyer to explain what happened and where they were. Then the teachers were back in the room, preening and posing, and he’d hung up after agreeing to wait in La Paz for further instruction on the safest and most discreet way for ICE to get them out of the country.

  “I asked, what do you think of our little vacation spot?”

  “I’ve never seen another place—”

  At that moment, Camille appeared out of the darkness. She filled a plate from the buffet table and took a seat on the edge of the courtyard. Aaron’s relief at seeing her hit him hard enough that he sighed audibly. She’d changed into a floral skirt and a red tank top, which were terrible clothing choices. Not only was the skirt impractical, but if she was trying to be inconspicuous, this was not the top she should’ve chosen. Couldn’t she have found a baggy sweatshirt to borrow?

  Ana traced his line of sight to Camille and stood. “Enough talk. It’s time to dance.”

  She led him onto a clear section of concrete where a few other couples swayed to the music. Sarah followed close at their heels. Camille was grimacing at her food and had yet to acknowledge his existence, which bothered him, although he wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t acknowledging her either, which he decided to correct after the next song ended.

  Ana and Sarah danced against him with borderline desperation. Sarah wasted no time making sure Aaron knew precisely what she wanted from him. When grinding against him failed to hold his attention, she threw her arms around his neck and caught him in a surprise kiss.

  Her breath reeked of cigarettes and tequila, like the girls in the dance clubs all smelled. Disgusting. But Sarah was the one with the cell phone and he needed to make a second expensive international call to Jacob later that night, so he kissed her back. When Sarah let go of him and Ana took her place, his eyes found Camille again. She was still scowling at her untouched food.

  He couldn’t decide if she was nervous about the possibility of the cartel finding them or merely irritated that other people were enjoying themselves. Actually, it reminded him of the way she looked at Juliana and Jacob’s wedding reception, as if she’d decided beforehand to have a bad time and resented the other attendees for choosing otherwise.

  More than any other aspect of her personality, her tendency to act put-upon really pissed him off. If she could change that one thing about herself, she’d be the total package—beautiful, intelligent and fun to be around. But two out of three was like being served a decadent dessert covered in mold.

  Sarah, cutting off his line of sight, ran her fingers through his hair and turned his face toward hers.

  He forced a smile. “Think I’m going to take a break, ladies.”

  Ana slipped her foot up his leg. “Don’t be too long. Sarah’s been greedy for your attention and I’m starting to feel lonely.”

  Oh, brother. “I’m going to get a drink and borrow Charlie’s facilities. When I get back, you and I will dance again.”

  At the drink table, he mixed a margarita in a plastic cup for Camille. He planned to stay stone-cold sober to keep a lookout for the cartel, but a little alcohol would be harmless for Camille and might help her sleep. At the very least, she might stop looking like someone ran over her dog.

  He reached her chair and found it empty. Scanning the crowd, he spotted her on the dance floor, her arms around Charlie.

  Charlie was a terrible dancer and his hands were way too close to Camille’s butt to be gentlemanly. Aaron glared at them, trying to catch Camille’s attention. What the hell was she thinking, throwing herself at a sweaty, middle-aged pothead while their lives were in danger?

  At least her hair was in a ponytail. Crazy that it mattered to him, but if Charlie laid a finger on Camille’s hair, Aaron wouldn’t be able to stop himself from dragging her away and shaking some sense into her. As long as he and Camille were in Mexico, her hair belonged to him alone.

  He huffed, disgusted as much by his train of thought as the sight of Charlie’s hands all over Camille. After downing the margarita, he crushed the cup and marched back to Ana, thumping Charlie’s shoulder hard with his own as he passed.

  Ana welcomed him with open arms. “You’ve come back to me.”

  “I have.”

  If anyone could distract him, it would be Ana, whose sexuality oozed like honey from a comb. He put his hands on her hips and pulled her hard against his thigh, moving them as a unit to the beat of the music. To stop thinking about her for just one song, I’ll push this as far as it will go.

  * * *

  Camille hated dancing, always had. So it was hard to contain her revulsion when Charlie asked her to dance. But she couldn’t say no, not when he’d agreed to loan her his Jeep the next morning.

  At first, she was relieved that he initiated only the slightest sway of movement. Then she felt his hands getting friendly with her backside. As she smiled and made flirtatious conversation, she made a mental list of all the reasons why she was allowing herself to be treated in such a demeaning way. Still, the urge to break Charlie’s hands made it challenging to maintain a facad
e of sweetness.

  Halfway through the song, she looked over Charlie’s shoulder and spotted Aaron walking in her direction. He sent her a murderous glare before wrapping one of the cupcakes around his body and practically screwing her right there on the dance floor. Like watching a car wreck in progress, Camille was powerless to look away.

  Charlie, with a finger on her chin, forced her focus back to him. “He said you two weren’t an item.”

  “Trust me, we’re not.”

  “Then why are you jealous?”

  “Oh, no. I’m not jealous. Just disappointed.”

  “Sometimes people don’t turn out to be who we expect them to.”

  She wound her arms around Charlie’s neck. “And some people are exactly who they first appear to be.”

  Charlie smiled. “You sure you don’t want my help tomorrow looking for your lost horse?”

  “Thank you, but I’d like to go alone. I’ll bring some rope and tether it to the rear of the Jeep for the trip back to camp. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for your help. I’m so lucky you found me on the beach.” Stifling a cringe, she stroked his jaw and tried to fill her eyes with the promise of reward for his generosity.

  A loud giggle from Aaron’s groupies reclaimed Camille’s attention. The American girl was attached to him again. Aaron must have said something really funny because both girls were tittering and playing with their hair.

  That was enough for Camille. She kissed Charlie on the cheek. “It’s my bedtime. Thanks for the dance...and the Jeep.”

  “You’re welcome to sleep at my house, you know.”

  Nice try, buddy. “The beach beckons.”

  As soon as Charlie moved into conversation with another couple, Camille strode into Aaron’s circle of hedonism and grabbed his arm. “Sorry to interrupt. I need to talk to Aaron. Don’t worry, I’ll return him to you in a sec.”

  She marched him by the elbow toward the water, where the sound of the waves would drown out their words, and spun to face him. “I’ve seen enough of your disgusting display.”

  “Aw, how sweet, you saved all your nastiness for me. Don’t I feel special.”