Ricardo (The Santiago Brothers Book Three)

Ricardo

by

K. Victoria Chase

Published by K. Victoria Chase

http://www.kvictoriachase.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. The reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, without the express written consent of the author constitutes a copyright violation.

RICARDO

Copyright © 2014 K. VICTORIA CHASE

ISBN 978-0-9903757-0-8

Cover Art Designed by For the Muse Designs

Edited by Faith Williams

For the faithful readers who emailed me about this book. You know who you are.

Thank you!

What is she doing here?

Ricardo Santiago leaned forward from his lounging position on a plush settee, and peered at the woman who’d just interrupted a casual meeting with his source. Sheik Hassan possessed information about a possible attack on the US Embassy in the United Arab Emirates, set to take place within the week. Now the sheik’s, as was every other man’s, attention was diverted to the beautifully dark woman with raven hair and coal-colored eyes. She struggled against the firm grip of a man named Abdul, the sheik’s number-one lackey. Abdul’s hand tightened on her upper arm and she flinched.

She wasn’t here by choice.

Ric studied the woman: disheveled and dirt-smudged white top over curve-hugging jeans, mussed hair, flawless skin. And in those beautiful eyes, a look of both fear and fury. She had the aura of an American, but Ric couldn’t figure out how in the world she ended up here in the middle of the Arabian Desert. Scanning her surroundings, their eyes locked. He stilled at the chill that passed through him. She yanked against Abdul’s hold as he dragged her in front of Hassan.

She was in trouble.

Ric’s jaw tightened.
The mission comes first. Always.
It was how he trained and how he fought. Whatever compromised the mission had to be sacrificed — including his own life. The United States of America and her citizens depended on the success of the mission.

Ric’s eyes never left the woman’s form as she was forced to kneel in front of the sheik as if he were the king of the desert and not just a Saudi prince. Who was she? Why was she being brought before Hassan?
This isn’t right. Something is really wrong here.
He had to help her. The Marine in him wouldn’t let him turn away from someone in need, especially a woman as beautiful as the one caught in the middle of something more dangerous than she could possibly imagine.

Think, Ricardo, think!

If he made the first move, Hassan would think she was someone important — at least important to the US government. That would give him leverage to ask for anything, and today it was he who needed a favor.

“Does she not look like Fatima?” Abdul said to Hassan. Hassan, lounging in his favorite gold-plated chair surrounded by trusted advisors and service men who held various plates of fruits, meats, and cheeses, nodded his response as his curious eyes scanned the woman with intense scrutiny.

Fatima.

Hassan’s late wife. Ric, who rarely saw the sheik’s wife, could only recall her dark brown eyes, the rest always hidden beneath the traditional burka. How did Abdul know what she looked like? That intimacy was reserved for the woman’s husband. Ric knew Abdul was close to the sheik but that close? Close enough to know Fatima’s beauty? Ric eyed Hassan’s trusted man with newfound respect. He wasn’t a man easily dismissed.

“What are you suggesting, Abdul?” Hassan asked.

“I brought her here to be your new wife.”

New wife!

The air whooshed from Ric’s lungs. Human trafficking.

Ric considered Hassan. He knew the man to have more than an ounce of compassion for the female sex, unlike many of the uncompromisingly traditional Arab men he’d met. As an American, she wouldn’t know the first thing about being a Saudi sheik’s wife. The absurdity of Abdul’s suggestion meant only one thing: she’d be a concubine.

In the years Ric had known the sheik, he was never more than a one-woman man. His lack of wives surprised Ric, but he wasn’t the first in his country to forsake the opportunity to have multiple wives. But would he take a mistress? Ric wasn’t sure, and if he wanted to save this young woman, he couldn’t wait to find out.

Ric stood. “Hassan, if I may interrupt.” His heart pounded as the words came out of his mouth. What could he offer the sheik for this woman? He had money: funds authorized to pay for information about the upcoming attack on a US Embassy slated for a few days from now. Would money be enough for a human life? Hassan was a wealthy businessman. Money wasn’t in short supply.

“Of course, my friend. Do you not see this woman Abdul has brought for me?”

Ric’s eyes briefly scanned the woman once again. Her hard gaze darted between him and the sheik. How long had she been Abdul’s prisoner? It took him days to arrive here at Hassan’s private oasis from his base of operations.
Abdul could’ve abducted her from the UAE, Yemen, Oman...
“Her beauty is noteworthy.”

Hassan released a weary sigh. “Yes, I suppose it is.” The man picked up an ornate goblet filled with what Ric guessed to be the man’s favorite wine and took a long sip. Drink was never far from his lips since his wife’s death. Hassan returned the cup to the tray held by one of the highly dedicated and always mute servers.

Ric’s eyes narrowed on the sheik. Hassan’s wife had only been dead a few months. Did he still miss her? Would he consider taking another wife so soon?

The sheik’s gaze remained on the woman. “Tell me, Ric, when are you going to take a wife? You are forever working. I hear the Brazilian women are some of the finest in the world. Surely you are not afraid of women.” The men in the tent laughed heartily. The woman glanced around with a curious look on her face. “If I could marry again, you must be able to do so at least once.”

Ric grew deathly cold for the first time in a long time. Years in the field, dodging one bullet after the next, nearly getting his head chopped off by an insurgent sub-group in Afghanistan — none of those incidents had turned his blood to ice. But now… He heard the imaginary ball and chain clamp around his heart and felt its weight. Marriage?

He glanced at the woman. Eyes beneath hooded lids, her gaze shifted between Ric and Hassan. Ric assumed she was trying to understand the language. Even a woman as beautiful as this one couldn’t tempt him to settle down in a house in the suburbs with a white picket fence, two kids — a girl and a boy — and perhaps a dog. No; that wasn’t the life he’d envisioned for himself, not since he was forced to leave home after he graduated from high school.

Hassan bellowed. “Abdul, you are to be congratulated. The woman you have brought me is a rare beauty indeed.” He rose slowly from his perched chair and descended the step. Hassan’s dark eyes scanned the woman in a studious fashion.

“You don’t intend to marry her, do you?” Ric asked, still unsure how or what he could do to assist the woman. Abdul’s hard eyes came to rest on Ric. What was he trying to do, bringing this woman before the sheik? It wasn’t his primary mission, but Ric would look into it. And he’d have to look into Abdul as well.

“I haven’t decided, my friend. A man was not created to live life alone.”

That was debatable. For more than ten years, Ric had lived a
great
life alone. He had traveled the world and did things people only fantasized about after watching another movie about their favorite British spy. Only his life was real. He actually drove cars worth more than his yearly salary. He wouldn’t be caught dead drinking a martini because he was a beer man, but he had killed people.

Hassan’s marriage to this woman would severely jeopardize the mission. It’d be days before he could leave Hassan’s camp and deliver her to the US Embassy.
I need to convince Hassan not to marry her.
But looking at her — rich skin, expressive eyes, firm body — Ric knew he’d have a tough time persuading the sheik to do anything after he had bedded the woman.

“What? Nothing to say, my friend?” The sheik turned inquiring eyes on Ric, expecting an argument over a topic they’d discussed many times before. For all Hassan’s ruthlessness in the boardrooms, he was a sentimental guy.

Ric stared back, close-mouthed. If the sheik did choose to accept Abdul’s gift, the woman would be well cared for. She’d be out of harm’s way and Ric could do his job without worrying about her safety. When it was time to leave, he’d steal her away and explain to the sheik later.
He’ll protect her, and I can concentrate on the mission
.

“My love for Fatima was deep, Abdul. There are some days I still feel her near me.” His eyes misted. “It is too soon, my friend, too soon. I thank you for this prize, but I cannot accept it. Pass her around the men.”

What? Pass her around?
“Me first.” The words were out of Ric’s mouth before he even realized he’d spoken. All eyes were on him. Hassan’s were wide in surprise while Abdul’s kept just the dark pit of his pupils visible.

“You first?” Hassan awkwardly chuckled. “Has it been that long? I’m embarrassed for you, my friend.”

More laughter.

Ric ignored the hot sensation rushing up his neck and into his face and kept what he hoped was a neutral expression. It might have been awhile, but not “that long.” His missions kept him constantly on the move. There wasn’t time to establish the conventional “connection” with a woman. And he wasn’t much of a one-night-stand guy. Leaving a woman in the morning felt too much like abandonment — and he’d seen the effects of a woman being discarded. “Must be the wine.”

“I hadn’t noticed you partaking.”

He hadn’t. Now wasn’t the time to argue his sobriety. A show of determination and no one would question his thirsty urges. He cleared his throat and surged toward the woman. Ric gripped her arm and yanked her from the ground. She braced herself with a hand on his chest. The heat from her contact burned through his shirt and into his chest. Their gazes met once more. Her obsidian eyes held his and dared him to do whatever the men had discussed in a language she couldn’t understand.
She’s not afraid.
Unable to stop himself, he grinned. Whatever strength and will to survive she possessed, she would need it in the days ahead.

So, I’m doing this. I’m saving her life.

He saw no way around the issue. And he didn’t care much for avoiding problems; he was always one to run right through them.

Her gaze dropped to his smile and shot back up. Her lips thinned and her eyes narrowed.

Oh, boy. She probably thinks I’m going to…
Ric immediately stopped smiling. He continued to hold her gaze, hoping to somehow relay the message that he wasn’t a threat.

Abdul voiced his displeasure and ordered his men to retrieve the woman. Ric immediately drew her behind him, but kept a firm grasp on her arm. She didn’t struggle.

“Abdul, you’ve given me a great gift and I’ll do with it as I please. I’m not inclined to take a wife at present, but perhaps Ric,” Hassan winked at him, “can enjoy her for now. You may have her for a few days, Ric, and then send her to Abdul.”

“I will.”
Not.
In a few days, he and the woman would be safely out of the desert and inside the US Embassy.

****

God in heaven, help me.

Melody Lewis didn’t resist the hold of the man who had taken her arm and dragged her outside the large tent, away from the raucous horde. She had a crash course in Arabic while on the plane to Dubai, but the men spoke too fast for her to catch a string of words that would help her make sense of what was happening. All she knew was the man who abducted her, Abdul, presented her to a man dressed as if he were important — royalty maybe — when this incredibly gorgeous — wait, no.
Mel, get your head on straight.
This deeply tanned man with perfectly wavy, midnight hair suddenly interceded. Whatever he’d said, her captor had looked pissed. Wavy-haired had spoken at length with the important man, who then laughed and smiled, and waved her kidnapper away, before a strong hand firmly, but with surprising gentleness, gripped her own. Her unsympathetic kidnapper’s harsh tone and words she couldn’t understand didn’t stop this new man from whisking her away from the cheering men and out of the tent. But to where? To safety? She couldn’t be sure, but somehow she knew her circumstances had taken a turn for the better.

She hoped.