3. Chapter Two
Chapter Two
E nedina Farias.
Finally .
In the flesh.
So close he could smell her intoxicating perfume. Those swirling hints of almond, violet, rose and lily of the valley had driven him nearly insane until he’d tracked down the exact blend through some serious detective work. Krigler 12. A blend that had been a favorite of Grace Kelly.
Of course, she would want to smell like a princess. She was a princess, the eldest daughter of one of Mexico’s grandest and oldest families. She emanated an aura of power and nobility, and hell, if it didn’t make him want to fall to his knees and worship every soft inch of her.
“Dina, this is Chief Inspector Ismael Morales of the PFM. This is Agent James Carson of the DEA,” Rafael Farias said. “And this Captain Steve Morgan of the Texas Rangers.”
He watched Dina’s face to see how she would acknowledge him. Would she admit they had met before? Or would she play it close to the chest and pretend they were strangers?
“Chief Inspector Morales. Agent Carson.” Dina held out her hand to the older men now standing to properly greet her. “Nice to meet you.”
“Mrs. Farias.”
“Senora.”
As she shook their hands, Dina glanced at him, her face a mask of indifference. She confidently approached him, her short heels tapping on the tile floor. Like everyone else attending the party, she was wearing an outfit that fit the zoo theme. The khaki-colored dress reminded him of a safari guide’s shirt with its pockets and buttons. The belt accentuating her waist practically begged him to tug on it, to use it to haul her close so he could finally claim that luscious mouth again.
“Captain Morgan?” She pretended she hadn’t caught his name as she held out her hand.
“Yes, ma’am.” He clasped her elegant hand in his, marveling at the silky softness of her skin beneath his. “But you can call me Steve.”
Her mouth twitched with a barely-there smile. “We’ll see.”
Left with only flashbacks of their torrid night together, Steve watched her join her brother Rafael behind his desk. He remained calm and collected on the outside, but inside, he was a mess of nerves and desire. She wasn’t his first hookup, not by a long shot.
But she’d been his last.
He’d been gutted waking up alone in that hotel room. Yes, the sex had been incredible, but there was something else he craved even more. The two had shared an instant connection in that hotel bar. It was like a spark from a romantic movie.
He’d wanted to explore that, to see if she was the one.
Of course, he’d never counted on his one being a billionaire tequila heiress with a murky past and connections to one of Mexico’s most feared cartel hitmen.
“There is a problem,” Rafael said, glancing sidelong at his sister.
“Really?” She deadpanned. “I never would have guessed. It’s perfectly normal for the DEA and Texas Rangers to show up at a first birthday party.”
Rafael scowled at his sister. “It’s Diego.”
The briefest glimmer of fear crossed her face. Recovering quickly, she asked, “What’s he done this time? Started another riot?”
“He’s escaped,” Steve stated bluntly.
Dina’s gaze jumped to his. “What?” She glanced at her brothers. “When?”
“This morning,” Agent Carson clarified. “He was on transport from a Mexican prison facility to the Texas border for handover as part of a deal with the DEA. There was an attack on the convoy and—.”
“And you lost him?” Dina asked angrily.
“The transport was attacked a few miles before reaching Texas,” Carson said. “We weren’t in control of that portion of the handover.”
Morales had the decency to look chagrined. “There were mistakes made on our end.”
“You think?” Dina asked sarcastically. “And now what? Diego is running loose in Mexico? With his old crew, I presume?”
“Possibly,” Morales admitted. “Which is why we’re here to warn you.”
“Oh, well, thank you so very much,” Dina all but snarled. “You know, this is exactly why we strenuously argued against allowing Diego to make any sort of deal with the United States.” Her fierce glare lit up every man in the room. “We specifically outlined in our legal complaint that we suspected Diego’s sudden interest in cooperation with the United States was part of a larger plan that would put our family and others in danger.”
“You did,” Agent Carson confirmed in the most conciliatory way. “It’s obvious that our risk assessment did not take into account all possibilities.”
Dina crossed her arms and huffed. “So—what’s the plan now?”
“PFM will be taking the lead on this,” Morales confirmed. “It’s our mistake. We own it. We’ll liaise with your private security to ensure you’re adequately covered when outside the perimeter of your estate.”
“What about these two?” Beto gestured at Carson and Steve.
“I’m the lead DEA agent in the Guadalajara office,” Agent Carson said, “and I wanted to personally come out and speak with your family to assure you that all of our resources will be available in this manhunt.”
“And him?” Beto pointed at Steve.
“I’m here to interview your daughter, Camila.” He cautiously dropped that bombshell and steeled himself for the inevitable explosion.
“Excuse me?” Dina asked, hackles raised like a cornered animal. “What could you possibly have to say to my daughter?”
“Before the attack on the convoy carrying her father, your daughter sent some rather ugly messages to our headquarters,” Steve explained.
“And?” Dina demanded rudely.
“And we’d like to know if she was aware of her father’s plans to escape and if she’s in contact with him,” Steve clarified.
“She didn’t know, and she’s not in contact with him!” Dina looked ready to spit fire, and he didn’t relish having to set her straight.
“We have call logs from the prison, Ms. Farias,” he respectfully said.
“There are recordings, senora,” Morales further explained. “Between your daughter and her father.”
Dina gritted her teeth and exhaled so roughly he expected smoke and flame to rumble out. She was furious, and when she stormed out of the library, both of her brothers looked panicked. The younger of the two—Beto—swore under his breath and raced after her shouting her name.
Steve winced as he heard Dina’s angry voice ricocheting off the tile floors and vaulted ceilings of the ornate mansion. He’d expected the family to live in luxury, but this place verged on outrageous. It was like someone had taken a Spanish palace and plopped it right down into the wilds of Mexico, complete with marble and gold and even a private chapel.
Rafael grimaced at the sounds coming from the other end of the house. He absentmindedly rubbed at his chest.
“How’s the recovery coming along?” Steve asked.
“Fine,” Rafael replied, his tone clipped. “I was very lucky.”
“You were,” Steve agreed. “That was a hell of a close shot to take protecting your family.”
“I’d do it again,” Rafael said, and Steve was certain he meant it. From the small interaction he’d seen between the patriarch of the family and his new wife and nephew, it was obvious Rafael loved his family.
“I didn’t do anything wrong!” A young girl screeched. “You’re crazy!”
“Camila, listen to your mother!” Beto commanded sharply. “Get in there!”
“I want a lawyer!” The girl shrieked. “A real one! Not one of our family lawyers that does whatever mom or Tio Rafa tells them to do!”
“I’m going to need a lawyer if you don’t get in there and tell the police the truth!” Dina warned. “Now, Camila!”
Stomping like a petulant child, Camila entered the room with a scowl. She was playing the pissed off teenager well, but Steve could see she was nervous and scared. Her face was bright red, and she breathed like a panicked hummingbird. Her big eyes scanned the room, growing wider with each new face she saw. It wasn’t until she landed on Rafael that she looked honestly scared.
Huh. Apparently, he’s the one she respects most.
“Camila,” Rafael said firmly, “you are going to answer the questions these men have for you.” When she started to protest, he held up his hand and silenced her. “People have died, Camila. Police officers from both sides of the border were killed. Do you understand how serious this is?”
Now, she looked really scared. She desperately glanced back at her mother. “Ama?”
Dina’s angry expression softened for a millisecond before turning fierce again. “Do what you are told, Camila.”
Glumly, Camila walked to the nearest chair and sank down dramatically. “I should have known you wouldn’t protect me.”
Steve looked to Dina who seemed suddenly broken by her daughter’s mean remark. From listening to the phone calls, he understood Diego had been playing on his teen daughter’s emotions. Like all young girls, she was vulnerable and easily manipulated. She’d bought her dad’s sob story hook, line and sinker.
Steve stood back while Morales handled most of the questioning. Camila answered rudely, often with just one or two words. Dina remained close at hand, her fingers tapping at her sides and waiting to jump in if the questioning became too much.
“Captain?” Morales called him forward.
Not looking forward to questioning a confused kid, Steve nevertheless took a seat across from the girl. He wanted to be as close to eye-to-eye as possible and put her at ease.
Looking at the girl, he saw very little of her father. Maybe the shape of her nose and the color of her hair, but everything else was Dina. Right down to the way she primly sat, looking down her nose at him as if he were lower than shit on the bottom of her expensive designer shoes.
“Camila, my name is Captain Steve Morgan—.”
Camila snorted derisively. “Captain Morgan? Really? Like the rum?”
Steve smiled wanly. “Not the first time I’ve heard that, but yeah. I’m with the Texas Rangers.”
Camila scoffed and rolled her eyes, startling him with how much like her mother she was. “Oh, great. Let me guess. You’re going to frame me like you did my father for the murder of those judges before I was born?”
Certain she wouldn’t like hearing exactly what he thought about her father, Steve played off the accusation with a wave of his hand. “That was before my time. I’m focused on right now.”
“You’re all the same. All of you. You’ve used my dad as a scapegoat to cover up all your lies and corruption.”
“That’s outside my wheelhouse,” Steve replied, not taking her bait. “What I'm curious about is the anonymous emails and DMs you’ve been sending to our headquarters in Austin.”
Camila squirmed. “I don’t what you’re talking about.”
“Camila!” Dina hissed.
“What?” She frowned at her mother. “I don’t know!”
“We can trace emails and messages, Camila,” Steve explained slowly. “I can even tell you what iPhone model was used and which Chromebook and even the names of the Wi-Fi signals you used sitting outside that McDonald’s near your school.”
Camila blanched. Changing her tactic, she insisted, “I didn’t mean it! I was just being stupid.”
“You realize how bad it looks?” Steve shifted in his chair and retrieved his phone. He swiped the screen and accessed his photos. “You’re going to pay for your lies.” He scrolled to the next one and read, “I hope you get separated from your children forever! Pig emoji. Pig emoji. Pig emoji. Water gun emoji.” He cleared his throat before moving to the next one. “Effing lying effing pig emoji murderers—.”
“I think we get the point,” Dina interrupted brusquely. She turned to her daughter and asked, “Camila, why would you send those?”
“Because it’s true!” Camila erupted. “They framed my dad for those murders in Texas. He wasn’t even there when they happened! It’s just a cover-up of an inside job!”
“He was there,” Steve corrected. “We have proof.”
“No, he wasn’t! He couldn’t have been!” Camila shouted angrily. “Those judges were killed nine months before I was born. He couldn’t have been in Texas and here with my mom making me.”
Steve gawked at the kid, wondering what mental gymnastics she’d pulled to convince herself that her conception was proof of her father’s innocence.
“Camila! That’s not how—!” Dina threw her hands up in the air and made an exasperated sound. “You were born at thirty-four weeks, Camila! That means you were conceived thirty-two weeks before you were born because pregnancies are dated from the first day of your last period!”
Camila’s brow furrowed with confusion. “No, that’s not how it works.”
“Camila! I think I would know how pregnancy works!” Dina blew up with frustration. “What the hell are they teaching you in that school? Not even basic math?”
“Don’t make fun of me! If I don’t know, it’s your fault!”
“My fault? That you broke the rules about contacting your grandmother? About contacting your father? About how you’re supposed to use your internet access? Your phone? Your laptop?” Dina slashed her hand through the air. “That’s it. I am done coddling you. No more phone. No more laptop. No more extracurriculars. And no quince !”
“What!” Camila shot to her feet. “You can’t do that! It’s my party! It’s tradition!”
“Is it tradition for lying, scheming little girls to be rewarded with a fancy party?”
“I HATE YOU!” Camila shrieked. “I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!”
Dina gulped, obviously hurt by her daughter’s angry remark, and slowly crossed her arms. “Well, I love you, Camila. I love you, and I am not going to let you go down the same path as your father.” Dina sighed. “You’re grounded.” She held out her hand. “Give me your phone.”
“No!” Camila stepped back and clasped the crossbody purse banging against her hip.
“Give. Me. Your. Phone.”
“No!”
“Camila!” Rafael’s voice cracked like a gunshot, startling everyone. “Give your mother that phone right now.”
Camila swallowed nervously before reluctantly handing it to her mother. “Fine.”
“Beto,” Rafael kept his gaze locked on his niece, “take Camila to the library and sit with her until we’re done in here. I think we need to have a family meeting.”
Camila didn’t dare shout at her uncles. She quietly walked away with Beto who looked so disappointed and worried.
Rafael walked to Dina and gently rubbed her arm and back. He spoke softly to her, and Steve tried not to eavesdrop. Dina nodded and smiled up at her big brother. He was glad she had the support of her family in such a trying time.
The meeting continued for a few very tense and uncomfortable minutes. As Rafael began to escort Morales and Carson out of the office, Dina piped up. “Captain Morgan, will you stay? I’d like to have a word with you.”
Steve glanced at his counterparts and indicated they should go on without him. As she followed her brother to the door and secured it, she pretended she couldn’t feel his stare. Her cheeks were flushed, and she fiddled with a pair of gold bracelets on her wrist, hiding her nervous finger movements.
Look at me.
She fought his silent pleading as long as she could, but once the door was closed, she finally relented. Their gazes clashed, and he smiled triumphantly. She seemed torn between begging him to hold her again, to kiss her until she was dizzy and panting, and throttling him with the nearest heavy object.
“Why are you here?” Her voice was laced with anger and accusation, and she was clearly trying to keep her volume as low as possible. “How dare you show up at my home like this!”
“I’m here because your ex-husband escaped his prison transport and probably wants to kill you and your kid,” Steve replied matter-of-factly.
Startled by his coldness, she stiffened and lifted her chin. “I don’t need you to protect me. I have security.”
“I’m not here to protect you. I’m here on official Ranger business. The State of Texas has a long overdue debt to settle with your ex.”
Dina narrowed her dark eyes at him. “Did you know? Back at the hotel? Is that why you picked me up?”
“No, I didn’t know.” He should have known. He ought to have recognized her, but she had changed so much since that grainy wedding photo in the file. “And, the way I remember it, you were the one who picked me up.”
She clicked her teeth. “I did nothing of the sort.”
“You bought me a drink. You cozied up to me.” He took a step closer, invading her personal space. She didn’t step back, and he took that as a positive sign. Leaning down, he murmured, “I seem to remember your hand sliding up my leg first.”
“You were obviously drunk if you think that’s what happened.” She breathed sharply, as if desperate to convince herself of that lie.
“Not so drunk I forgot how you taste.” The vein in her neck jumped, and she blushed so heavily he could feel the heat radiating from her skin. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you left me.”
“I forgot you as soon as I walked out the door,” she insisted, her voice quavering slightly.
“I very much doubt that,” he argued with a playful grin. “Darlin’, that was some of my best work.”
“That was your best?” she scoffed. “No wonder it was so easy for me to walk away.”
“Ouch.” He feigned hurt and grabbed at his chest. “Right for the heart, huh?”
“I don’t care about your heart.” She moved away, far out of his grasp, and self-consciously touched her hair and jewelry. “I only care about my daughter and my family and the business.”
“And you?” He watched her intently. “Who cares about you?”
She ignored his question and walked toward the closed office door. “Do you intend to stay in the area or are you returning to Dallas?”
“I’m staying.” He was actually supposed to be back on a plane to Dallas this evening, but there was something afoot here, something that he couldn’t ignore. Camila was a spoiled brat, but she was also a scared kid with daddy issues. She was going to get herself into trouble and drag her mother right into the thick of it.
“At a hotel?”
“Why? You want my room number so you can visit later?”
She scowled at him. “Can you be serious for one minute?”
He didn’t want to be serious. He wanted to be carefree and wild and drag her off to a hotel for a loved-up weekend.
“You’re right,” he said, ignoring the urge to flirt. “This is serious. No, I don’t have a hotel booked yet.”
Dina studied him for an unnerving moment. “We have a block of corporate flats in the extended stay hotel across the street from our headquarters. I can have one arranged for you to use while you’re here on official business.”
Taken aback by her offer, he nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Dina.”
“I’m only doing this because I think I might need your help with keeping Camila safe from Diego,” she insisted. “It’s not because I want to see you again.”
“Of course not,” he agreed dryly.
“Are you planning to use a cover story while you’re here?”
“I probably will, especially if I’m staying in your company’s housing.”
She made a face. “I’m not sure we can sell you as a businessman.”
“That bad, huh?” Steve tried not to show his discomfort at her cutdown.
“No, I meant the way you carry yourself. You move like a cop. You stand like a cop. You’re too aware of your surroundings.”
He didn’t see the sense in arguing with her observations. “I can’t help it. I was military before I became a trooper or a ranger.”
“It’s not a bad thing.” Dina’s expression softened. “It’s just not right for selling you as a c-suite businessman.” Her gaze lowered to his hands. “Even if we could convince our team that we poached you from another business to fill a nonexistent position, your hands would give it away.”
“My hands?” He lifted them for a better look. “What’s wrong with my hands?”
“Nothing, but they’re not the hands of a man who sits behind a desk. They’re the hands of a man who works hard.”
He supposed she had a point. Calluses. Short nails. Rough cuticles. He obviously didn’t push paper and tap at a keyboard all day.
Unable to help himself, he reminded her, “You didn’t seem to mind when I had them on you.”
Dina gulped. “I didn’t mind at all.”
She swept from the room in a whirl of fabric and perfume. He stood there like an idiot, staring at the space she had just occupied, and wondering if he had made the biggest mistake of his life accepting this case.
How the hell am I supposed to concentrate on catching Diego Suarez when the only thing I want is her?