Chapter 17
F allon
I shifted closer, enjoying the light breeze tickling my skin.
The rocks were cold, sharp edges digging into my bare feet.
The scent of the ocean below wafted into my nostrils, salty and inviting.
Once I was at the edge, I took a deep whiff.
The early morning sun was beautiful as it shimmered while lifting into the horizon.
Shades of blushing pink and fresh peach melded together with strings of lavender and just a hint of golden yellow. Beautiful to the naked eye.
I enjoyed a moment of warmth from the sun before lifting my arms, holding them out to the sides. This was the perfect day.
With a smile on my face, I closed my eyes.
And took a giant leap.
“Oh,” I whimpered as I fought to claw my way to the surface. Tiny vibrations hummed in my ears as I blinked several times. Images of the ocean depth swept through my mind. First peace. Then… death.
My pulse was racing and my heart was beating so quickly the heavy drumbeat of sound echoed in my ears.
A sudden cold shiver coursed down my spine and I jerked whatever my fingers were clutching around me.
As I was taking deep breaths, I slowly started to remember where I was, and the fading images weren’t real.
Sensing a presence, I slowly turned my head. Maybe the sunlight was playing tricks on me, but Navarro’s stare was hard and cold, yet when I blinked, there was nothing but concern in his heated gaze.
“Nightmare?” he asked. He’d leaned forward in the seat and had his elbows on his knees, his fingers flexed and steepled in front of him. His brow was furrowed, his hair tousled, and without a shirt, he took my breath away.
I shouldn’t feel that way, but the push and pull of the crazy, dangerous relationship we’d established in little more than a day had brought about dozens of emotions. “Yes.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really.” I tugged the covers further up my chest, feeling more exposed than I had the night before. I finally noticed he had my phone in his hand. With the red cover, there was no mistaking it.
He noticed my quick glance and smiled. “I thought you might like to have your phone back.”
“You don’t give something for nothing, Navarro. That much I’ve gathered about your management style.”
Just then, there was a knock on the door. I rolled under the covers completely, yanking the sheet over my head.
His laugh was just as seductive as the night before, but with more amusement. “Relax, Fallon. I asked the chef to make a late breakfast and the only thing I want in return for my kindness is the truth. Always the truth.”
He spoke of truths when he was working closely with a corrupt organization. I found that both hysterical and annoying. Much like the man himself.
I didn’t dare take a peek, completely embarrassed I’d fallen into his trap.
As well as the man’s enthralling ability to catch me off guard. Whoever had entered was calling him sir and there was a clattering of what sounded like something bumping on a tray. I held my breath, angry with myself for falling victim to the man’s prowess. How could I do that to myself?
But the scent of sausage and bacon was incredible, tickling my nose and making my stomach grumble.
“ Gracias , Rosa,” he said and I heard the door click shut.
As delicious as the food smelled, it was the fragrance of freshly roasted coffee that brought me out of my hiding place.
As I lowered the sheet, I noticed there were also several shopping bags sitting near the door.
I glanced in his direction. He was pouring a mug of coffee and I studied his hands in particular.
They were strong, as muscular as the rest of him, the ink crawling to his fingers also fascinating.
They weren’t like the tattoos I’d seen on different gang members while growing up in LA. The delicate scrolls were very artistic, their meaning something very personal to the man.
I remembered seeing similar creations of art on several young men as a child. My father had none. Not a single tattoo. He had scars, a half dozen of them he’d never explained, but no tats.
“Does everyone in your gang have a tattoo? Is it some gang-related requirement?”
He chuckled. “First of all, the Torres Empire isn’t a gang. We have a billion-dollar corporation. However, you’re perceptive in that some gangs require either ink or branding to profess loyalty. My ink is personal, paying homage to my brother.”
“Your brother. Are you close?”
He barely lifted his head, but when he did, the same haunted look I’d seen before crossed his face briefly. “Not any longer.”
I would get nothing else.
He noticed I was watching him and the same smirk from before remained. “Cream?”
“Yes. No sugar.” While I’d been hiding, he’d placed my phone on the nightstand.
“You seem extremely fascinated with my art.” He flexed his arm, holding it out so I could get a better look at his forearm.
“The tats are beautiful. What do they represent?”
“Two family crests. My mother’s and my father’s. This one is from a drawing my brother created.”
“When did you get them?”
He didn’t say anything as he brought me the coffee, remaining standing as he held out the mug. As before, when our fingers collided, I shuddered, but shut down the sensations before he paid attention.
When I glanced into his eyes, it was clear he was searching mine for answers. The truth. Would it set us free or provide another obstacle that would never be penetrable? I didn’t have the answer and certainly couldn’t ask him.
He returned to the cart, pouring himself a cup. “Before I turned eighteen.”
“A lovely gesture to your family.”
His silence was as unnerving as his demand I tell him the truth. He lifted a silver dome, selecting a huge ripe strawberry. With deliberate steps, he walked to the bedside, staring down at me with authoritative eyes. “Open your mouth, Fallon.”
I did so without question. Navarro cocked his head and slipped a portion of the fresh fruit inside, inhaling when I took a bite.
Juice trickled past my lips and I giggled. The taste was so sweet, the piece of fruit juicier than any I’d had in LA. “Dewicious,” I butchered as I chewed.
His smirk was adorable. Using his pinky, he wiped the string of juice from my chin before it dropped off, bringing the tip of his finger to his mouth. Even the way he sucked was seductive.
I took the remaining piece from his hand, never allowing my eyes to leave his.
There was something extremely mesmerizing about his intense stare.
“I did so because my family was murdered in cold blood.” The striking lack of emotion was borderline terrifying.
Either he didn’t care about what had happened with his parents or he’d compartmentalized their deaths, turning into a killer to help in his healing process.
I was inclined to think it was the latter.
The awkward silence was as nerve-racking as he wanted to make it.
Without thinking, I gripped his hand, squeezing as I thought of what to say. “I’m so sorry, Navarro. I know what it’s like to lose something you both love and depend on. Time does nothing to completely heal the wound, but it does provide clarity.”
“An excellent word to use. Clarity.” He looked away, his deep sigh cutting through me. “Clarity can also provide truth, but only for those willing to suffer through the memories all over again.”
I shuddered from his words, but he was right. I took several sips of coffee as another round of silence settled in.
“What’s in the bags?” Neither one of us was ready for that moment of truth, at least not to the extent perhaps we both needed. Maybe this was a simple, impractical fairytale that I wanted to hang around for a little longer.
“Clothes,” he said casually, but his wistful grin had returned. “While I very much appreciate the gorgeous dress you were wearing, it’ll be impractical during your stay.”
“You mean during my incarceration.”
He didn’t blink as he approached, taking his time to sip his coffee. I’d never felt so uncomfortable as I did with the way he was looking at me.
“I’m curious, Fallon. How much do you earn for a painting?”
“It depends on the size. Why?”
“Because you have little to your name, Fallon. Your bank accounts are almost empty. Your credit cards are maxed out, yet you easily managed a flight to Mexico and are staying at the Ritz Carlton. Should I assume you flew first class? I find that interesting you’d stay at such an upscale hotel when so worried about your sister. ”
“If you’re trying to ruffle me, you failed.
I sold several paintings just before I left at a gallery showing I’d been asked to participate in.
To be honest with you, I’ve read all about the mishaps in Mexico.
I know all about the crime and from what I’d seen and heard, it’s much worse than I’d thought.
I wanted to be safe, Navarro. So I splurged on a room.
That’s it. Not that I need to explain myself to you, but I certainly didn’t fly first class.
I was jammed up against a dude who smelled like a garlic factory, sweating like a pig since he weighed somewhere in the neighborhood of five hundred pounds. Certainly not your style of flying.”
The man could easily push my buttons every time. And I allowed him to do so. That irritated the hell out of me.
The most annoying aspect was his ability to turn off his emotions, including in his eyes.
Just like he was doing now. There was no reflection in them, no knowing whether he believed me or if I’d end up in round three of his savage discipline.
Just shifting on the bed brought back the soreness and it was all because of him.
And his determination to control me.
When those gorgeous, cold eyes of his drifted to my breasts, I groaned and realized I’d allowed the sheet to fall. Jerking it up, I sloshed the coffee, drips of the scalding liquid splashing two fingers.