Chapter 10
Chapter ten
They walked a little further and eventually found a pocket of civilization, albeit a very small one.
Xander and Essie stuck close to the outskirts of town, scoping out the situation.
She noticed more Villarreal cartel members hanging around, and knew the town was under their control.
The sooner she and Xander left, the better.
Xander seemed to be on the same page. He stalked over to the closest vehicle, fully focused, all business. The windows were down, and he opened the unlocked door. In small Mexican towns like these, everyone knew everyone, and people didn’t worry about their cars being stolen.
So much for that.
He motioned for her to get in, and she climbed into the old Volkswagen Beetle, scooting across to the passenger seat. The model was quite common since they were manufactured in Mexico for decades. Locally, they were affectionately known as the Vocho.
Essie turned in her seat, watching as Xander reached up under the wheel and pulled some wires down. In less than thirty seconds, the car sputtered to life.
“Impressive,” she murmured.
He eased his foot off the clutch, pressing down on the gas as he sent her a grin. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, Peaches.”
She shook her head, settling back, trying hard not to smile. “Would you please stop calling me that?”
“Why?”
Yes, why, exactly? Because it unnerved her? Made her remember what he’d said about her ass being juicy? The best he’d ever seen? Her cheeks flushed and she waved a hand in front of her face. It was too damn hot.
“You’re incorrigible,” she scolded. He chuckled.
Shifting, she reached out and popped the glove box open.
Mostly because she needed to focus on something, anything, other than the extremely good-looking man beside her who’d kissed her senseless earlier.
Her eyes widened when she saw the gun. “Ohhh.”
He glanced over and saw the weapon. “Nice. I’ll take that.”
She carefully plucked it out like it was some kind of explosive device on the verge of detonating and handed it to him. Guns made her nervous, and, of course, he picked up on that right away.
“You don’t like guns.”
“Not really.”
“Why not?”
“Because they kill people,” she snapped back, voice full of indignation.
“Guns don’t kill people, Peaches. The people who pull the trigger do.” His indifferent tone irked her.
“My brother was shot down by a cartel member and tossed in a ditch,” she murmured, the memory of the horrific details of Miguel’s demise making her both sad and frustratingly angry. “Please, don’t tell me how guns don’t contribute to thousands of deaths every year.”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Just seemed to mull over her words. “I’m sorry, Essie.” So low and sincere. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “No one should lose a family member to violence like that.”
“It’s devastating,” she whispered, turning her attention out the window beside her. The lush jungle had given way to a new landscape, and now they passed farms that produced tropical crops such as sugarcane, cacao and bananas.
Enough. Essie gave herself a shake, not wanting to slip into the gloom threatening to dampen her mood.
She was nearly free. And that was something to cling to.
Her curiosity about Xander made her bold.
She also wanted a distraction from thoughts of guns, death and the cartels. “Tell me more about yourself.”
“Tell me more about you,” he tossed back.
“Okay, after you.”
He chuckled. “Sly.” His lips twitched. “Why don’t we play a game?”
“What kind of game?”
“One where we take turns getting to know each other better. We’ve got time to kill.”
That seemed safe. “Okay, go ahead.”
He burst out laughing. “You seem reluctant to share.”
“No, I just don’t know how to play your game.”
“Fair enough.” He glanced over at her. “Ever play Confess and Guess?”
“No.”
“It’s easy. You confess one thing then guess the other person’s answer to the same.” She nodded, and he cleared his throat, pursing his lips like he was thinking. “Okay, I confess… my favorite fruit is a peach.”
Essie snort-laughed. “You’re ridiculous!
” But secretly, she liked hearing how much he liked her ass.
How he felt comfortable enough to tease her.
Knowing such a gorgeous man found her attractive boosted her confidence and made her inexperienced heart skip a beat.
“Now you’re supposed to guess my favorite fruit? ”
He nodded. “I’ll say you prefer a fruit that is sweet and juicy. You look like a strawberry girl.”
“While I do enjoy a juicy strawberry every now and then, my favorite fruit is mango.”
“Ah, damn. So close.” He sent her a glorious smile, and she bit her bottom lip and melted. “Your turn.”
“I confess…” Essie thought for a moment, hesitating a bit too long.
Now that she could find out more about him, she was nervous to get too personal.
“Um, my biggest fear is…” José finding her and forcing her to marry a stranger?
Never reuniting with Tomás? No, she better keep things light.
“Well, I have two—cursed objects and quicksand.”
He chuckled, then immediately apologized when her brow furrowed. “Sorry, that just sounded so random. Please, tell me more.”
“You’re making fun of me,” she pouted.
“I won’t. Promise.” He gave her another smile. One that made her knees weak. “But maybe I can make you feel better.”
“How?”
“Well, let’s start with quicksand. What scares you?”
“Um, isn’t it obvious? Getting caught in it and sinking until I drown.”
“It’s physically impossible to—”
“To sink all the way because of the difference in density, blah, blah, blah. I know the physics behind it, but that doesn’t make it any less scary. And just so you know, I have a very valid basis for my fear.”
He arched a brow, waiting for her to continue.
“My family has a little summer house that we always visited when I was younger. It’s beautiful, one of my favorite places, but the island is covered in quicksand pits.
My parents warned us about them, and my brothers would tease me relentlessly.
I used to have nightmares about getting stuck in one.
José even tried to lure me into one, then called me a baby and made fun of me when I ran crying.
I remember how my dad wiped my tears away and explained how falling in might be scary, but I’d never sink all the way, and he’d always be there to rescue me. ”
“He’s right. It’s impossible to get sucked all the way down and die. That has to make you feel a little better.”
“It doesn’t, but thanks for trying.”
He chuckled. “Okay, now what do you mean when you say cursed objects? Like Annabelle?”
“Who?”
“You know, the demonic doll featured in a string of bad movies.”
“I don’t know much about that, but if it has anything to do with Hollywood, I have my doubts.”
“Do explain. I’m intrigued.”
“When I was little, my abuelita told me about a hand mirror her old neighbor bought at a market. One time, when she looked at her reflection, she saw flames and what looked like writhing souls in purgatory. From the moment she got the mirror, she experienced bad luck and strange things. They claimed it was cursed, so they had it blessed—and it cracked.”
“Do-do-do-do,” he teased, singing the Twilight Zone theme. “Then what happened?”
“They buried it. To this day, when I look in a mirror, I’m scared I’ll see something scary. Silly, I know.” She wrapped her fingers around her cross.
“Not if it’s really cursed.” He tossed her a playful wink.
A blush warmed her cheeks. Studying his strong, handsome profile, she simply couldn’t picture him being scared of anything. The day he took down six of her brother’s soldiers would always live rent-free in her head.
“I don’t know what to say about you. You seem like a pretty fearless man to me.”
“Oh, I have a very big phobia.”
“Really?” She sat up straighter. “I can’t imagine what.”
“They swim in the ocean,” he admitted with an exaggerated shudder.
“Sharks?”
“That would be correct.”
“I find sharks rather fascinating. I’ve always thought they’re misunderstood.”
His face screwed up in the most adorable way. “Misunderstood?” He raised a dark brow. “Have you seen their razor-sharp teeth? And they have an infinite supply of those fuckers.”
Essie burst out laughing. “Aww, bless your heart, you’re serious.”
“Uh, yeah. They have dead eyes, don’t blink, and given the opportunity, they’ll tear you to pieces.”
“Only if they’re hungry.” He snorted. “I take it you don’t surf?”
“Hell no.”
“I’ve heard you’re more likely to be hit by an asteroid than be bitten by a shark.” She batted her lashes and repeated his earlier words, “That has to make you feel a little better.”
He didn’t miss a beat, echoing her response right back. “It doesn’t, but thanks for trying.”
They shared a smile.
“Just stay out of the water and you’ll be fine,” she stated.
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He gave his head a shake. “Okay, my turn. I confess—” His voice lowered, all teasing gone. Turning sensual. “That not only do you smell like cinnamon, you taste like it, too.”
Her lips parted. “That’s not really a confession.”
“I wasn’t finished. I confess kissing you is my new favorite thing.”
“Ohhh,” she breathed, and began fanning herself again.
His mouth edged up. “Are you warm?”
“It’s a million degrees out and one hundred percent humidity, and this car has no air condi—” He scooped her hand up, dragged it over and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. And she freaking melted into a pool of mushy goo.
“I’m done playing.” He turned her hand over and flicked his tongue against her skin. “You’re a beautiful woman, Essie.” His lips parted and he placed a hot, open-mouthed kiss in the center of her palm. “I find you fascinating, and so damn sexy.”
Her heart pounded and wetness pooled between her thighs. When she realized she was breathing hard, her mouth still open, she snapped it shut. No man had ever been so bold with her, and she didn’t know how to respond. Flirting wasn’t one of her strengths.
“Um, thank you,” she whispered.
He sent her a hot, piercing look. “When we reach Manzanillo, we’ll find a hotel, I’ll call my friend and we’ll spend the night. I can book two rooms… or one.” Her pulse thundered. “It’s completely up to you. Either way, I’ve enjoyed being on the run with you, Peaches.”
“I confess I’ve enjoyed being on the run with you, too.”
But was she brave enough to spend the night with him?
Madre de Dios. The idea of staying in his room and sharing one night of passion with Xander Hawke made her overheat even more.
She’d never had the opportunity to indulge in a sexual liaison.
This would be their last night together, and she had a pretty good feeling he’d make it extremely memorable. And full of pleasure.
“Just think about it.” He laced his fingers through hers and lowered her hand, laying it on his muscled thigh.
Was he kidding? From now until they reached the coast, it would be all she’d be able to think about.
Obsess over. The truth was, he had no idea who she truly was—that she was a cartel king’s sister.
Why did he have to be her brother’s enemy?
Would Xander care if he discovered she had the same blood running through her veins as José?
Maybe it wouldn’t matter. They had crazy chemistry, and he clearly wanted to act on it.
They’d been through a lot the last couple days, and it had taken thirty-two years to find a man who made her blood run hot.
Didn’t she deserve it? She’d said she wanted to take her fate into her own hands. And here was the perfect opportunity.
As his thumb made little circles in her palm, she decided to listen to herself. To the inner voice crying out that she wanted him, too. Had there really ever been a question? “Xander—”
Before she could confess her true identity, a loud pop filled the air. Xander released her hand and grabbed the wheel. The car swerved and he slammed on the brakes, skillfully regaining control as they coasted to a stop along the side of the road.
“Dammit. I think we blew a tire,” he grumbled. “I hope there’s a spare.”
She hoped so, too. Otherwise, they’d be walking again.
Movement in the side mirror snagged her attention and she saw a truck approaching in the distance. Xander must have seen it, too, because he froze, watching with narrowed eyes as it pulled up behind them and stopped.
“Maybe they want to help,” she suggested.
The doors opened and four men in skeleton balaclavas climbed out.
Or not.