It took Neesa an hour to process all that had happened. The nightmare—again. When would they stop? I’m a therapist, dammit. I should be able to get over this. That was her dirty little secret, that the aftereffects hadn’t been completely cured by her own therapy years ago or her training. The fact that she ran a retreat for overcoming trauma left her too embarrassed to seek further help. And it shadowed her confidence as a therapist herself.
But absolutely shocking to find Rath trying to bring her out of it. He’d broken into her room. She rubbed where he’d had to grip her arms, her embarrassment briefly overcome by a glimmer of smug satisfaction. Well, at least he knew she was capable of bodily harm. She counted on the fact that any assailant would underestimate her. For two months, she’d hidden her femininity in public. For much longer than that, she’d suppressed her sensuality.
She peered through the blinds to the courtyard and house below. Other than the usual glow of light in the kitchen/living area, it looked dark. Hopefully, Rath had gone back to sleep. She knew she should try, but her thoughts kept returning to the man who’d been sent to help her. Rath was like no other man she’d ever met. He’d shared some of himself, which had tugged at her sense of professional compassion and desire to know more. To dig deeper and pull out all that he’d felt growing up the way he had. She’d wanted to talk more after dinner, but the old wall shifted up.
Don’t worry; it’s not like we’re going to get involved.
Ah, but her inner defenses had sensed an odd attraction to Rath. His dichotomies, shades of soft and hard, and hell, his riveting light blue eyes, and the way he wore his nearly shoulder-length hair brushed back from his face that made her fingers itch to smooth the waves of it. He was all chiseled, face, jaws, and body, lean and muscular. And how strange that when she thought of coming fully awake while pinning him to the floor, she remembered his bare chest with a sprinkling of hair down the center and how in that moment she’d actually thought he looked magnificent.
You don’t have thoughts like that, Neesa. Especially about a man who’s here because he was ordered to be. A man who inserts himself into dangerous situations for a living. Like your father.
No way.
She stepped out onto the small balcony, leaning against the railing and watching the moonlight glitter on the surface of the small pool. On impulse, she changed into her bathing suit and went down the stairs, checking again to make sure she wouldn’t be caught by Rath. His room was dark, no sign of movement inside. She checked the front door, as she did every time she came into the patio space, then slipped into the cool water. Okay, freezing water that, in that first second, sucked the air from her lungs. That it was shallow helped it to retain some warmth from the sun, but she wouldn’t be able to stay in it for long. She loved the way the cold brought her alive, making all her cells stand up and take notice. Just keep thinking about that show you saw on cold-water immersion therapy with Wim Hof. How good it is for you.
Crap, it’s cold.
She watched the moonlight undulating on the water and allowed the chill to bring her focus fully on her body and not her thoughts.
After ten minutes, she was about to stand when she heard a sound. She halted her movement and listened.
A whisper from out there on the other side of the walls.
A crack of a twig.
Once there’d been a man and his son hunting rabbits on her property. They’d whispered, too, then apologized for disturbing her. More like freaking her out.
Now she was beyond freaked. She lifted her hand from the water and grabbed the knife she’d set on the edge, then lowered her hand back in. Getting fully out would make way too much noise. Hopefully, it was only a rustle of a bush, the whoosh of a feathered predator.
The shadow topping the wall sent a similar cold shock wave through her as the water had. A very human shadow. The man was small, and he balanced as agilely as a lemur as he helped another shadow to the top of the wall.
As her numb fingers tightened on the knife handle, she mentally shuffled through her options…and landed on screaming to let Rath know they had intruders. As she opened her mouth, though, she saw another shadow along the edge of the interior wall, coming from the kitchen area, stealthily moving toward the two.
Rath. It had to be. She held her position. Damn, she was surprised her beating heart didn’t make waves.
The two dropped down to the patio not far from her, but she didn’t think they’d seen her. Or Rath. One moved toward the staircase up to her room. God, if she’d been sleeping, she would be in bed totally unaware. The other shadow moved toward the kitchen. Rath didn’t follow the one going up to her room, which meant he knew she was here in the pool. She didn’t hear a sound as Rath shadowed the man who walked past her and slipped inside the kitchen and living room area.
As she started searching for the second man, a hand clamped over her mouth from behind her, and she felt the sharp blade at her throat. “Stand up very slowly, or you get cut.” He called out in Spanish to his friend, “I got her.”
At that moment, she wondered if she could, in fact, pull her knife up and stab the man. Psychologically. Physically, her hands were so numb from the cold that she felt the knife slip from them. Even with Rath there—God, she hoped he’d gotten the jump on the other one—terror gripped her. She wanted to shove her assailant backward, but the blade was too close to her throat to move like that.
As the shadow emerged from the kitchen, the man guiding her up from behind said, “Get the ties from my pocket.”
She thought she knew that voice. Diego.
As Rath approached—yes, Rath because he was much taller than these two—Diego’s grip on her tightened.
“Who the hell are you? Don’t come closer. I got a knife on her.”
Diego had noticed the height difference, too. Smart son of a bitch.
“I’m someone you don’t want to mess with if you don’t let her go right now,” Rath growled.
“Your threats are nothing compared to my boss’s if I don’t bring her to him. But if I have to kill her, well, I’m okay with that, too.” His arm tightened around her middle. “How come you didn’t bring this gringo with you today?”
Seriously, he was admonishing her for withholding her alliance with Rath? But the rest landed hard in her mind. “Who’s your boss?” And the zip ties. She was being kidnapped!
“You have to meet him to find out. Now, gringo boy, back off.”
Diego walked her backward toward the exterior door. “Rodrigo? You okay?” he called out in Spanish.
“He took me by surprise. I think I knocked him out.”
Well, she knew that was a lie. Somehow it made her feel better that Rath had a plan. Because right now, she wasn’t doing so well. She felt Diego reaching for something at his waist. “He has a gun!” she said.
“Hey, hey,” Rath said, raising his arms. “Sorry, ma’am, I didn’t sign on for this kind of shit. I’m an investigator, not a soldier. I’m out of here. Just don’t…don’t hurt her.”
“I won’t,” Diego promised, stepping sideways toward the kitchen. “Get the hell out of here.”
Wait, what? Was Rath really leaving her? Sure, maybe he hadn’t signed on for physical combat, but still… she wanted to scream at him, but even swallowing pushed her skin against the sharp blade. She had to press up tight against Diego’s wiry body just to keep from being cut.
Diego and Rath did this dance thing, circumventing each other as Rath moved toward the door, and Diego backed to the kitchen with her in tow. Rath disappeared into the shadows of the entryway, and then the door slammed open, banging against the wall.
No. He could not just leave her. Okay, breathe and stop thinking about the coward. You only have a few minutes to get away before he binds your hands.
Diego walked into the kitchen cube and flicked on a light. Rodrigo was not just knocked out. He was dead, his neck twisted at an impossible angle. She felt Diego’s body stiffen, and then he started to turn around.
The gunshot shattered the silence, rocketing through her as she tried to make sense of it. Diego’s grip on her loosened, and then someone shoved him away. The knife fell to the tile floor with a clatter, and arms wrapped around her cold, wet body and pulled her away from the scene.
Rath.
He hadn’t left her. He was talking to her, soothing in that southern bourbon voice. “It’s okay, I got ya. But I need you to go with me to the door. Lock it when I go out.”
“What? No, don’t leave.”
“I need to make sure there aren’t any more out there.”
She nodded though every bit of her resisted the thought.
He slipped out soundlessly, and she turned the deadbolt. She watched the top of the walls to see if the shot had brought reinforcements. She heard nothing, praying that he’d be all right. A minute later, Rath returned. “Only one vehicle. The trunk’s open. They were ready to go.”
With me.
He led her up the stairs to her room, only stopping when he’d closed and locked the door behind them. Then he turned her to face him, his hands running from her cheeks down her neck and shoulders, his gaze assessing her safety. She was vibrating with cold and fear, her teeth now chattering.
“You’re all right,” he said, as though reassuring himself as well. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to him before he found you. Hell, I didn’t think he’d even seen you there. You were obscured by shadows and quiet as hell.”
“I t-thought…you were l-leaving me.”
“I wanted to put him off guard. I knew once he saw his dead friend, he’d be shocked, and that was my window to take him out.” He braced his hands against her cheeks. “You really thought I’d just abandon you?”
She was nodding, but it probably looked like she was having a seizure.
“Here, let’s get you in a warm shower.” He wrapped one arm around her as he led her into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Then he pulled her up against his warm body and held her tight. “I would never leave you in that situation, hear me? But there wasn’t much I could do when he had that knife at your throat. I had to think fast, and that seemed the best way to handle it without putting you at risk. I’m sorry you thought that.” Without loosening his hold on her, he stepped them into the warm shower.
The warmth seeped into her skin the way his words seeped into her soul. As safe as she felt, though, what had happened—and almost happened—shot through her like an electric charge. Her whole body was chattering now, shaking and jerking.
“It’s just the adrenaline leaking out,” he said, but she knew it was more than that. “Is it all right, me holding you like this?”
She tried nodding, knowing she couldn’t speak without possibly chopping off the tip of her tongue. She wrapped her arms around him, too, her fingers involuntarily clutching his back. There was some part of her that abhorred showing this weakness and fear and felt terribly uncomfortable this close to a man she hardly knew. But a bigger part squashed it completely because he was giving her exactly what she needed. Grounding. Safety. Comfort.
He’d killed a man for her. Two men.
Not again. Oh, God…
She saw his gun on the counter, within easy reach, and he’d positioned himself to watch the doorway. They stood like that for a while until the heat started lessening.
He cut the water, then grabbed a towel from the bar and wrapped it around her. He was so damn tender, this bad-ass who gently dried her, rubbing the towel over her hair. He paused, taking her in. “You’re in shock right now. I wish I could just sit with you for a spell and let you work through it, but we gotta hit the road. There was a radio in the car, and someone was demanding an update. The boss, I presume. If he doesn’t get an answer, you bet he’ll be sending some other goons to find out what happened.”
She nodded, though it all seemed surreal. Why hadn’t she been better prepared for this? How had she been taken so off guard? And then she’d just melted in Rath’s arms, nearly catatonic. So disappointing.
She broke out of her shock, determined and angry and ashamed all at once. She stood on rubbery legs and grabbed her suitcase from the closet. “It was Diego. Somehow he found where I live.”
“People talk. How many ’merican women are renting homes in one of the most violent cities in Mexico? I’m more concerned about why his boss wanted you. Alive.”
“He had ties, he said.” That piece brought a new wave of fear. “Cable ties, I bet.” She pushed past it, throwing her clothing into the suitcase, then scooping up her toiletries from the counter. Once she stuffed that bag into her suitcase, she said, “I’m ready.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Um, maybe you should, you know, get dressed first.”
She looked down at her damp, bikini-clad body. Oh, yeah, she had it together all right. “Probably a good idea.” She fished jeans, a shirt, and underwear from the jumble and went into the bathroom to change.
“You need to change, too,” she said upon emerging. “I got you soaked. But…thank you for doing that.”
“Just did what I had to do.”
So, don’t make it into something more than that. Something personal.
He grabbed her suitcase and preceded her down the stairs, searching for anyone lurking around. She turned on the lights so no one could hide, and he gave her a nod of approval before heading into the kitchen cube and then to his room. He’d peeled off his knit shirt before he reached the door.
She tried not to look at the bodies on the floor, the splatter of blood on the front of the counter, as she walked into the kitchen. She went through the cabinets, throwing non-perishables into paper bags.
He was out in a matter of minutes, his large duffel slung over his shoulder. “Let’s roll.”
She hefted two bags, he scooped up her suitcase, and they left what had been her sanctuary for the last two months. All because she’d spoken to the wrong person.
But maybe…maybe Diego had been the right person. Because he might be connected to whoever had her father after all. Or he may have just pegged her for an easy kidnapping target.
“We’ll take my truck,” Rath said as they walked to the garage. “They know what you drive.”
She punched in the code, and the door opened to reveal the truck that looked like it was on its last wheel. “Are you sure?”
“She’ll make it. Like you, her looks are deceptive. She’s tough as hell.”
Neesa managed a smile even as his words touched her…and made her feel like a fraud. “Yeah, real tough,” she muttered as she set the bags in the back of the cab. “I fell apart in your arms.”
He met her gaze over the cab. “You impress the hell out of me just being here on your own. But look, you’re not a soldier. You’re not trained to fight and kill people and get held at knifepoint…unless there’s something about you I don’t know.”
He let his gaze and those words settle in the air.
“Nothing like that.” And it was mostly true.