Chapter 19
Melody stared around the empty hotel room with wide eyes, tucking the keycard Mateo had given her into her back pocket.
She couldn’t decide what had possessed her to come here, but after hours of trying to find some way to occupy her time and her thoughts, she had ended up at the Marriott Bonvoy.
No one in the lobby had paid her any attention as she’d crossed to the elevator as if she belonged there, taking it up to the third floor.
She had knocked a few times in case Mateo was in, but after a few minutes realized he wasn’t.
It was early, almost dinner time, and the sun was still shining.
He was probably working. With a smirk, she wondered who he might be stalking today since she’d been holed up at home.
She couldn’t help a twinge of jealousy at the thought that it could be a woman.
A woman he watched with the same intensity he leveled at her.
Impossible, she told herself.
Having been curious about his job title, she’d done a little research. Supervisory Special Agent put him pretty high on the bureau food chain, and made him responsible for a lot. She imagined he worked constantly.
Now that she was here, alone, Melody was suddenly anxious.
What would Mateo think if he came back to find her here?
Would he be happy to see her? That seemed unlikely, only because Mateo never seemed happy.
Every now and then, he would look at her, his face would soften, his lips twitching like he was trying to smile but couldn’t quite manage it.
He would probably scowl at her, grab her by the arm, and ask her why she was here.
He would stare her down with those molten eyes, peering into her soul and searching for her secrets.
Her belly roiled with both fear and anticipation. She realized there didn’t need to be a real reason for her to be here. Despite telling him to leave her alone more than once, she found herself drawn to him. It was inexplicable, and all the more frightening for that reason.
For lack of anything better to do, she moved around the room, drinking everything in with her eyes.
His meager luggage was neatly arranged in one corner, with two pairs of shoes lined up against a wall—a dress pair, and black boots.
A cell phone sat on the desk facedown. A half-empty bottle of Scotch rested next to two tumblers, one used and one clean.
His laptop was closed next to a stack of folders stuffed with papers.
Sticky notes jutted out here and there, with notes scribbled on them.
She tilted her head and squinted, realizing that the notes were in Spanish.
A smart move if he didn’t want anyone else to know what they said.
She wandered into the bathroom, running her fingers over the handle of his hairbrush and scraping her fingernail over the teeth of his comb.
A pair of clippers sat plugged up on the counter and a few scattered bottles of hair and skin products were arranged around it.
Finding a bottle of cologne, she sprayed it and sniffed the mist that floated through the air.
Her eyes slid closed, and she sighed, recognizing the scent as essentially Mateo.
Smoky cedar and leather. Tobacco and black pepper.
Not too strong, not from a distance. But she had noticed it when they danced together at Solstice.
It had clung to her dress after their time in the storage room.
She hadn’t wanted to take it off, lying in bed wearing the dress for an hour after arriving home at the end of the night.
Replacing the bottle, she returned to the bedroom.
The bed had been neatly made, but a manila envelope rested on the comforter with a yellow sticky note attached to it.
Biting her lip, she glanced at the door.
She had no idea when Mateo might be back, but didn’t hear footsteps in the hallway.
The words on the sticky note had caught her full attention.
Careful with this one, White Rabbit. She’s fragile.
-Hatter
Before she could talk herself out of it, she dropped onto the bed and took up the envelope.
Her hands shook as she eased the top page out just enough to be confronted with an image of her much younger self, the first time she had been arrested.
A nest of snakes took up residence in her belly, writhing around each other and making her feel sick.
Her vision grew hazy around the edges, and the block letters spelling out her real name wavered before her eyes.
Melody Frank.
Oh God. On no.
What had Mateo discovered about her? What did he know?
He had warned her, hadn’t he? He had straight-up told her that he was investigating her background and fully expected to uncover the truth.
But some information would have been impossible to find, meaning her position might not be as precarious as she imagined.
She couldn’t determine that until she knew what was in this file.
She had just taken hold of the rest of the papers to draw them free when a keycard whispered through the lock and the door swung open.
Melody dropped the envelope, and the papers slid to the floor, scattering.
She shot to her feet, hands clenched tight in front of her as Mateo strode in, carrying a shopping bag and car keys in one hand, and a Tupperware container in the other.
At the sight of her, he threw everything down on the nearest surface and rushed forward, taking hold of her arms. He was on her so fast, Melody caught her breath at the clamp of his fingers on her biceps, the sharp anxiety that sparked in his eyes.
“What happened?” he demanded, searching her face for answers. “What’s wrong?”
She mutely shook her head at first, overwhelmed by his nearness, his scent. That cologne was a whole different experience once it had hit his skin. There was a warmness to it now, as if he had activated its hidden notes. Her head spun from the power of it.
“Nothing,” she managed. “Nothing’s wrong, I just … I wanted to see you.”
Mateo’s hold on her eased but he didn’t let go. His expression softened, though he was still watching her as if searching for something. But if the scattered papers on the floor were any indication, he’d already found the answers.
Finally, he let her go and crouched to begin picking up the papers.
Melody couldn’t steady herself enough to try to read what was on any of them.
There were pictures—a high school yearbook photo, some mugshots, a driver’s license image.
He gathered everything into a neat stack and slipped it back into the envelope.
He didn’t seem the least bit bothered that she’d been snooping.
“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”
Melody shrugged and eased back onto the bed. The room seemed so much smaller with him in it. He topped her by a good four inches, and his shoulders were wide and strong. His very presence radiated through the space, choking the air from the room.
“Not long,” she assured him. “Still, I didn’t expect you to be here. You’re obviously a busy man.”
Mateo laid the envelope aside and sank into the chair in front of his desk. He watched her, hands folded between his spread legs.
“I would think you’d be getting ready to head to Solstice for the night.”
Melody wrinkled her nose. “It’s my night off, thank God.”
He nodded but said nothing else. His gaze dropped to his feet, and he seemed to think over what he might say next. Melody wanted to broach the subject of the envelope and its contents, but couldn’t force her mouth to form words. What the hell was she supposed to say to him?
Sorry I lied to you about who I am, but if you had any idea who and what I really am you’d never want to come within a mile of me again.
That particular outcome scared her more than any other.
More than being exposed and sent back to jail.
More than being killed for opening her mouth to a federal agent.
No man had ever looked at her the way Mateo had.
None of them had taken the time to see the things she kept hidden, or access anything beyond her body.
Upon realizing that Mateo was attracted to her—however hopelessly—she had longed to keep the truth to herself, to allow the reality of who she was to show through what she displayed on the outside.
She hadn’t just wanted him to want her; Melody had wanted him to know her.
Now he did, but not in the way Melody would have chosen.
“I want to tell you a story,” he said suddenly, keeping his eyes lowered. “I want you to listen, and when I’m finished, you can say whatever you want to me. Okay?”
Melody nodded and then, realizing he wasn’t looking at her, replied, “Okay.”
He took a deep breath. “Once upon a time, there was a girl from a little town in Texas named Melody Frank.”
Melody held her breath, nervous vibrations rippling over her skin from head to toe. Her heart began to hammer in her chest, and the urge to jump up and run overwhelmed her. But she remained where she sat. She had to know what he knew.
“According to her records, Melody was a very bright child. She especially excelled in English and art. In her junior yearbook, she was quoted as saying that she dreamed of attending school on a scholarship to study art and fashion design. Melody’s family didn’t have much, but she was counting on her good grades and other accomplishments to pave the way to a better life.
A life where she could be free from the violence of her world.
You see, Melody’s mother was a drug addict who had done multiple stints in jail and rehab.
She was unemployed and her husband worked to support a family that included four children. Melody was the oldest.”