Stranger Danger (14 page)

“
Si.
 
It’s still sore, but the pain’s less.
 
Sleeping helped.” His lips burned a slow
trail of kisses across the back of her neck, light yet sensual.
 

Sara shivered as his hands strayed to her
breasts.
 
He tweaked her nipples, gentle
and yet with purpose.

“I thought you wanted a steak.”

“I do,” he murmured. “But I think an appetizer would
be good, don’t you?”

“It’s more like having dessert first.” Sara yielded
as she faced him.
 
“Kiss me, Santiago.”

He
obliged,
his mouth as
sweet and hot as chocolate lava cake against her lips.
 
The heat traveled downward into her nipples,
then radiated through her belly.
 
Still
going south, his contagious fever hit her pussy with intense delight.
 
He kissed her deeper until her breath caught
and came short.
 
This time, Santiago kept
his hands still on her body and let his mouth do all the work.
 
He didn’t stroke or caress or touch, just let
his lips evoke a mounting passion.
 

Her body tingled in response as her need
increased.
 
He teased her with kisses
until Sara ached to scream.
 
Her body
sought completion and release. “You’re killing me,” she whispered with a half
laugh.

Santiago didn’t answer, but he shifted her until
they reached the bed.
 
She fell back onto
it, into the tangled covers they’d vacated, and spread her legs.
 

When she grasped his stiff cock, it hardened within
her grasp and he groaned.
 
“Now,” he
grunted as he plunged inside her.
 
He
moved with deliberately slow strokes designed to tantalize.
 
The tension within expanded and she pushed
against him, trying to drive him into orgasm.
 
He held back for another few moments and then unleashed his total
force.
 
Her back arched as she came in a
flood of stars, fireworks, and blinding physical joy.
 
Santiago cried out and she sobbed with the
power of their climax.

They rested, silent until the red flush on their
faces faded and their lungs slowed to a normal rhythm.
 
“
Te
amo, la muñequita,”
he said. “Now I’m hungry for steak.”

Boneless, sated, and too comfortable to move, she
smiled. “Do I have to get dressed to go down to the restaurant?”

His head shook. “No,” he told her. “There’s room
service for a moment like this.”

* * * *

The thick steaks were tender and rich.
 
Sara savored the taste of both the meat and
the rice served on the side.
 
She failed
to finish her steak so Santiago did and afterward, he sighed.

“I think I have a plan.”

Each word dropped hard, like a tossed pebble against
glass, and reverberated through her.
 
“Is
it dangerous?”

His wicked grin answered before he did. “
Si,
very but it might work.”

“Might?” She needed a stronger reassurance from him.

He shrugged. “That’s the best I’ve got.
 
It all hinges on whether or not my identity
is known outside this area.
 
If it is,
then all bets are off and we’re screwed.”

Although she seldom drank anything more than a glass
of wine, Sara reached for his tequila and took a swig.
 
The potent alcohol seared her throat and
burned on its way down.
 
She shuddered
and repeated.
 
Eyes watering, she stared
at him. “And how will you know?”

Despite the fact that her future, no, their future
depended on his reply, he met her gaze without blinking.
 
“I’ll ask Enrique.
 
He’ll know and he’ll tell me, one way or
another.

If more tequila wouldn’t send her into fiery
oblivion or dizzy drunkenness, she would finish the bottle. “You’d rely on the
word of a gang banger?”

“
Si,”
he
answered without hesitation. “He’s the
jefe,
chica.
”

The room wavered as she struggled to focus.
 
I never
could hold much liquor, damn it to hell.
“And he’ll tell you because….”

Santiago’s eyes turned to stone. “He owes me his
life, many times over.
 
And he’s trusted
me.
 
If I can talk with him, maybe he
still will. It’s risky, yes, and hard to trust someone
like
this, but I’m out of options.”

Her head whirled in dizzy circles. “I don’t
understand.
 
If the FBI agent outed you
as an officer, as Santiago Ruiz, why would Enrique believe you if you tell him
you’re not?”

“I can be very persuasive.” His low pitched growl
carried more repressed violence than if he’d shouted.
 
“He’ll listen if I can get to him.”

“Can you?”

His lips curled into a wolf’s grin. “Oh,
si,
I can if anyone can.”

Sara sighed. “I hope to hell you know what you’re
doing, Santiago.”

“So do
I
.”

If he didn’t, she realized they’d be screwed.
 
Worse than that, they’d be dead.

Deep in her bones, she knew they faced a long night,
together.

Chapter
Ten

Santiago’s plan, sketchy as it was, notched her
tension up to intense levels.
 
The
situation required more tequila, another round of mind blowing sex, or another
diversion.
 
Otherwise, she’d be
crawling
the walls.
 
Or she’d scream or maybe scratch her eyeballs out.
 
Neither of the options appealed, so she paced
the floor while Santiago lounged on the bed.

“You’re going to wear out the carpet,” he said
observantly after half an hour.

She shot him a mean glare, but it didn’t dim his
grin one bit. “No, I think the stress will kill me first.
 
Are you going to call him or not?”

Arms tucked beneath his head, he shrugged. “I don’t
know – maybe around two-thirty or three. He’s a night person,
la muñequita.
 
I need to catch him at the right time,
when he’s alone or almost alone.”

Her jittery nerves couldn’t stand it and she told
him so.
 

“Then let’s go gamble awhile,” he said as if he made
a reasonable suggestion. “We’ll play a few slots, have a little fun, and pass
the time.”

Sara paused, hands on hips. “You’re kidding, right?”

He sounded amused and maybe stifled a snicker. “No,”
he said. “I wasn’t.
 
Let’s go down and
play.”

“I don’t want to.”

Without irritation, he got up and put on a clean
black T-shirt.
 
In their time apart, he’d
apparently learned the patience of a saint, she thought. “Then what would you
like to do? We can watch television or go back to bed.”

His gaze shifted to the rumpled covers and he
grinned.
 
Since he’d come back into her
life, desire could be kindled with any spark, but right now Sara was wound too
tight for sex.
 
But, her taut muscles
eased a little. “Do you really want to go downstairs? Is it even safe?”

“
Si,
Sarita.
Casinos have excellent security in place.
 
It should be crowded and we’ll blend.
 
Besides, I don’t mind a little gambling once in a while.”

“I can tell.” As far as she could tell, he took big
risks with life and death.
 
Compared to
that, what was a little money spent in pursuit of a jackpot? “All right, let’s
go.
 
Maybe you’ll win.”

“If I do, it’s all yours. You already have my heart
and soul.”

Her emotions twisted into a knot.
 
Santiago could make her angry, but then he
could make her want to cry with simple words that expressed so much.
 
“
Te amo
Santiago,”
Sara told him. “I’m sorry I’m bitchy, but I’m worried and
scared.”

Santiago opened his arms wide and wrapped them
around her.
 
He held her close.
“
De nada.
 
So am I.”

They entered the gaming floor from the hotel
lobby.
 
Long rows of tightly placed slot
machines ran in more than one direction.
 
Their flashing lights, sound effects, and bells made a cacophony of
noise, intensified by conversation.
 
Smoke
wafted in the air as smokers sat glued to their machines or wandered in search
of a lucky seat.
 
Although it wasn’t as
dark as some casinos, the dim lighting made Sara stick close to Santiago.
 

Before they settled down at a pair of slots, they
wandered from one end of the huge room to the other, past an open bar, gaming
tables, and the entrance to several eating establishments.
 
Other rooms for bingo and off track betting
lined the rear walls.
 
He handed her
several twenties and bowed, then swept his hand across the room.

“Where would you like to start?”

“Anywhere.”
She raised her voice
to be heard over the din.
 

He grasped her hand and pulled her to a pair of
slots. “Then sit down and play.”

Although Sara didn’t expect to be able to
concentrate, she stuck a bill into the machine and set the rows of bright icons
spinning.
 
She made her bet minimal but
within a few spins, she won a little.
 
After a few minutes, she got intrigued and put a little effort into the
game.
 

Beside her, Santiago played slots, a cigarillo in
one hand, with languid interest.
 
The
diversion worked and for a short space, she forgot to worry about time or place
or danger.
 
She won enough to come out a
few bucks ahead and when the luck petered out, she sought another slot machine
nearby.

Santiago followed and they gamed, saying little, but
in quiet harmony.
 
Sara had no idea what
time it might be and for the moment, she didn’t care.

She lost a little, won some of it back, and noticed
Santiago wasn’t at her side.
 
Instant,
hot fear seized her midsection as she scanned the adjacent rows of slots.
 
He’ll
be close, I’m sure.
 
When she failed
to locate him, she cashed out her ticket and wandered.
 

Sara walked past all the restrooms and throughout
the casino, always searching for Santiago.
 
After three circuits, she yielded to anxiety.
 
Her breath came short and she gasped for
air.
 
Afraid she might suffer a panic
attack, something she’d done a few times during her married years, Sara headed
for the closest exit.
 
She stepped out
into the night and although the air was humid, she inhaled several deep
breaths.
 
In an effort to calm down, she
took long breaths and paced them.
 

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she glimpsed a
tall man, back turned toward her.
 
He
stood at the right height and something about his stance seemed familiar.
 
Sara took a few steps toward him and caught
the pungent aroma of a cigarillo.
 
What in the hell is he doing out here and
why?
Her mood soured as she moved closer to confront him, but she halted
when she realized he held his new phone to one ear.
 
She wasn’t close enough to pick out the words
or understand, but he spoke in rapid fire Spanish.
 
His tone carried an intense urgency and
although tempted to join him, Sara didn’t.
 
Instead, she retreated a little until she stood near the casino’s main
entrance.
 
When she spotted a bench to
one side, she sank down onto it, knees more than a little weak.
 
She’d been had.
 
Santiago slipped away to handle his business
without telling her, maybe to keep her from worrying, maybe to avoid any
questions.

His tense body language kept her riveted in place.
 
Should he need her, she’d be close whether he
wanted her to be or not.
 
Five minutes,
ten, fifteen passed as he moved farther away, his voice soft but still audible.
 
He walked up and down a row of parked
vehicles as he spoke.
 

Sara strained to see his expression but
couldn’t.
 
She had almost decided to join
him, no matter what the consequences, when he thrust the phone into his pocket
and ground out the butt of his smoke on the pavement.
 
She stood up and he caught sight of her
immediately.
 
His expression darkened as
he rushed to her side and grasped her arm.