He put his fingers over her lips. “Hey. You don’t have anything to apologize for. If anyone should apologize, it should be me.”
As she studied his roughly carved features she realized she didn’t want him to have to feel like he should apologize. She wanted him to tell her it hadn’t been a mistake and that the kiss had meant everything to him that it had to her. She wanted him to say how he’d wanted to kiss her since they’d met, because that was the way she felt.
For a long moment neither of them said anything. “I loved it,” almost spilled out of her mouth but the words stayed in her head where they belonged.
He gave her a long, searching look. “Are you tired?”
She blinked at the change in topic. “Yes.”
“Then I’ll let you get some sleep.” He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it before he stood.
She got to her feet, too. “Are you leaving?”
He hesitated and looked like he wanted to touch her again. “I’ll be in the living room.”
“Thank you.” She crossed her arms over her chest, holding herself tightly, feeling as if she might fall apart if she didn’t.
He hesitated then leaned down and brushed his lips over her cheek. “Get some rest, honey.”
Her eyes widened a bit at the endearment, but he turned away and walked to the bedroom door. He looked once over his shoulder, his gaze meeting hers, and then he was gone.
For a long moment she gripped her clarinet as she stared at the place where he’d been standing. She was attracted to Landon more than she wanted to admit, even to herself. She didn’t just feel a physical attraction, but something deeper, on a level she wasn’t sure she could recognize even if it was pointed out to her.
But she and Agent Landon Walker were
not
meant to be. She’d better keep that fact in mind before she ended up losing her heart to him.
Smoke filled the air as Diego crushed the stub of his Cuban cigar in the ashtray on the corner of his desk. Fury heated him, crawled up his spine, and sent tension through every part of his body. The woman had escaped the first attack and now her parents had as well.
But Alejandro said his plans for tonight would work.
Still, Diego wasn’t pleased she wasn’t dead yet.
Alejandro was in danger of being arrested by the American agents, as were the two men assigned to protect him and to clean up any messes that might arise. And this was one big fucking mess.
Diego would never allow his son to be tried for any crime, much less imprisoned. Once Tori Cox was eliminated, Diego would make sure every last person involved was dead. The dead couldn’t speak.
He sensed a presence and he cut his gaze from the ashtray to the doorway to see Alicia. At nineteen, she was the youngest of his housekeepers, with an inviting smile and even more enticing body.
But today all he cared about was relieving some of his anger.
“You called for me?” she asked in a small voice that still managed to sound sexy.
“Come in and close the door.” He snarled the command. “And lock it.”
She gave him a frightened look as she obeyed. Her eyes were wide and he could see her hand shake as she turned the lock.
He motioned for her to come to him. She hesitated and he narrowed his gaze. The look in her dark eyes became one of true fear, and that made him hard.
When she reached him, he raised his hand and backhanded her. She cried out as her head snapped to the side. In his mind she became the woman who had put his son in danger, the woman who needed to be killed.
It was all he could do not to snap Alicia’s neck. Instead, he gripped the front of her blouse and ripped it open. She gave another cry and he backhanded her again. He still had a grip on her blouse with one hand, holding her so she didn’t stumble backward.
He raised his hand to strike her again. “Shut up, bitch.”
Tears formed in her eyes and she clamped her mouth shut. Diego moved his gaze to her breasts. One of the things he liked about her was the size of them. He’d wanted to fuck her since Esmeralda had hired her, but he hadn’t touched her. He only hired beautiful, young women and most of them were willing and pleased to serve him in every way possible.
But right now he didn’t want a willing woman. He wanted a powerless woman…just like the woman in Arizona would be when he smuggled her into Mexico and then used her before handing her off to others. He had decided now that he did not want to kill her…he wanted to make her pay in other ways.
Diego’s gaze roved over Alicia’s beautiful body. He still loved his wife who had passed away years ago. But a man had his needs, and right now Diego needed to take out his anger and frustration on someone. Alicia was that someone.
She bit her lower lip to keep from crying out again as he took her large nipples and pinched them hard. He twisted them and her eyes watered, tears rolling down her cheeks. He released her nipples long enough to spin her around and force her face and torso against the desk. Her whole body was shaking.
He shoved her skirt over her ass and was pleased to see she wore nothing beneath her clothing. She had a beautiful ass. He forced her legs apart with his knees before he unfastened his belt and pants.
In one thrust he was buried inside her and she made a muffled sound. She was slightly dry but he liked the friction. She wasn’t a virgin, which was unfortunate, as he would have liked to be the first to take her.
He fucked the bitch hard, taking out all of his fury. The slut deserved to be on the receiving end of his anger. She should have kept herself pure. No doubt she’d worn nothing beneath her uniform so that she could fuck his driver or his gardener, or any one of the many men on his staff. Maybe all of them.
His anger magnified and her body rocked against his desk as he slammed into her. His tension and wrath balled up in his groin.
He all but exploded when he came. He thrust until he’d completely shot his semen inside her, until he was spent and almost too exhausted to pull out.
When he did, he tucked himself back inside his slacks and fastened his belt. She didn’t move from where she lay on his desk, but her body continued to tremble.
He pulled her long hair, jerking her to her feet. When he got a look at her face, he saw that a drop of blood had formed on her lip where she’d bitten it. Black mascara streaked her face and her eyes were red, her face wet with tears. She had marks on her face from where he’d backhanded her.
“Straighten up.” He gestured to her clothing. She tugged down the skirt and he handed her a handkerchief. “Take care of your face.”
She took the handkerchief and wiped away the black marks from her cheeks. He looked at her exposed breasts and started to harden again. She grabbed her blouse that was now free of buttons and pulled the sides together, covering her breasts.
“Get out of here and go clean yourself up.” He pointed toward the door. “Before you leave, make sure no one will see you.”
She didn’t hesitate this time. She hurried toward the door. Just as she grabbed the handle, he spoke.
“I expect you to remain with us.” She didn’t turn away from the door as he added, “I know your family and I will kill them if you speak of this. Do you understand?”
A visible shudder rippled through her body and she nodded before unlocking and opening the door, and peering out.
She fled.
Diego felt more relaxed, but in complete control of himself and those around him. He didn’t like this feeling of being out of control when it came to the woman in the U.S. who had witnessed his son murdering the scum who had wormed himself into the heart of his organization. It would be only a matter of time before the woman called Tori Cox was dead, too.
Landon and Dylan eased up to the door of the house on the outskirts of Douglas, where they hoped to find John Graves and Pablo Perez. If they were lucky, Alejandro Jimenez would be here, too.
Peeling white paint on the outside of the house, and the weed-choked yard with junk strewn everywhere, gave the house a neglected look. Considering the state of the place, Landon would bet that Alejandro would have nothing to do with a crap hole like this.
Even though it wasn’t even noon, the sun was bright and Landon’s heavy body armor made him feel even hotter. Sweat dripped down the side of his face and rolled onto his neck.
Dylan leaned against the house and held his weapon down in a two-handed grip. “Your informant better be right.”
“Carl’s reliable.” Landon watched other DHS agents move into position. “Usually.”
Dylan grimaced at Landon. “It’s the ‘usually’ part that I don’t like.”
Gripping his Glock, Landon silently moved to the opposite side of the door so he was on one side and Dylan on the other. Dylan, like the other agents, wore body armor. Dylan and Landon each had a tactical holster strapped to his thigh.
Four other agents waited with Landon and Dylan by the door. When everyone was in place, Landon peeked through the window and saw John Graves. He gave a grim smile and nodded at Dylan.
Landon reared back and jammed his foot against the door. The locking mechanisms were inferior and the door broke free and swung open, hitting the wall with a crash. “Police!” Landon shouted.
In the same instant his gaze took in the three men in the front room who whirled to face the door, weapons in their hands. Landon got off two shots before ducking back behind the doorframe.
One of the men inside gave a grunt of pain right before the shooting started inside.
Dylan swung around the doorframe just long enough to get in a few shots before moving aside. A man inside came close to a window and one of the snipers picked him off. Dylan and Landon took care of the other two and cleared the room before more DHS agents swarmed in. Shouts of “police!” filled the air.
Two of the men inside were dead. One was injured, and Landon saw that it was John Graves. Blood seeped from a wound in his abdomen and he was lying on the floor, but trying to get up. He’d dropped his weapon a few feet away. When Landon stood over the sonofabitch, he aimed his Glock at Graves’s head and the man went still. Landon kicked Graves’s gun aside.
Landon recognized the two dead as wanted men from the Jimenez Cartel. Agents went to each body and checked for a pulse and shook their heads when they found none.
When O’Donnell stood over Graves, his gun trained on the man, Landon and Dylan moved down the hallway to a closed door. Incredibly loud music pounded from inside, a heavy throb and the deep bass causing the walls to vibrate.
Landon and Dylan moved to either side of the door. With a nod to Landon, Dylan kicked the door in with a loud crash. He and Landon immediately pointed their weapons at a man and woman in bed.
The woman screamed.
“Police!” Landon shouted. “Freeze. Hands in the air.”
Pablo slowly raised his hands, but the naked woman wrapped herself in a sheet and shrank away from Dylan and Landon. Dylan cleared the room and checked the bathroom while Landon kept his Glock trained on Pablo Perez who scrambled to sit up.
Dylan ordered the woman to drop the sheet and raise her hands. She clearly read the danger in his eyes and she hurried to obey as he continued to point his weapon at her.
Landon moved toward the bed, his Glock trained on Perez who sneered at him. Landon took the handgun resting on the nightstand, put the safety on, and tucked it in his jeans. He knelt and scooped up a pair of pants from off the floor, checked the pockets for any kind of weapon then tossed the pants onto the bed.
“Get dressed.” Landon backed a few feet away as he spoke to Perez. “Slowly.”
Perez got off the bed and pulled on his pants, never taking his eyes off of Landon.
After checking the woman’s clothing and tossing it to her, Dylan ordered her to get dressed as well, keeping his own weapon aimed at her.
Landon tossed Perez a button-up shirt from the foot of the bed. Perez slid it on and buttoned it. After Perez put on his shoes, Landon handcuffed him. “We have a warrant for your arrest.”
Perez spit on the floor.
“Out.” Landon pushed Perez toward the door. “Move it.”