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“Please, can I go with you? I had some jewelry made for the dance, and I need to pick it up to make sure the pieces are going to work. We can do some shopping and have lunch. How about it?”
Mari thought about how fast Carmen had grown up, and it wouldn’t be long before she was working and getting a life of her own. She could stop by Kevyn’s house after lunch while Carmen waited in the car. She nodded, thinking her sister’s enthusiasm would keep her mind off Buck. “All right. Girl’s day out.”
* * *
The jumble of thoughts racing around in his head, and Mari’s refusal to talk to him last night, had him tossing and turning. He awoke at sunrise, relieved to be awake, realizing his last dream had been about her and his morning wood was so hard, it would draw sparks.
He hurt like hell, more than he’d ever hurt in his life. More than when his uncle had died. He had to be true to himself, to his oaths, what he pledged his life to, regardless of what it did to their relationship. A relationship he wanted so much, unable to understand how that was going to pan out.
But he wasn’t a quitter, and he wasn’t going to allow what happened last night to get him down.
He relaxed in the hammock, thinking about her, and how they had meshed so damn well. In bed, out of bed, in his heart, in his mind, in his body.
He’d denied himself since he’d gotten here. He wanted to think he was strong enough to do the right thing every single time, no matter how difficult, no matter how challenging. But he was far from perfect, and he was far from perfect with her.
He wanted to see that look in her eyes again…and again. He wanted to see it when he was inside her, when he was taking her to the edge, when he was the one who pushed her over. He wanted to be the only one who saw that look, ever, and it was that fierce, ridiculous surge of possessiveness that almost gave him back the edge he so desperately needed. Getting in his PT with the guys, he cleaned up afterward and headed for the house with them for breakfast.
He was used to handling adverse situations with ease, but this thing with Mari was tying him up in knots. He understood she needed time to sort through everything, but he wished she would talk to him.
He was disappointed when he sat down to breakfast to find Mari absent. He asked Anna where she was, and she said that Mari had gotten up early and headed to town. She said she had some errands.
Or she was continuing to avoid him. Just as he was finishing up, Blitz showed up and said, “Brief in fifteen.”
Buck rose and followed him back to the warehouse. He had to wonder if the FBI had finished their assessment and if everything was about to hit the fan.
* * *
The shopping had taken her mind off Buck for a short period of time, but now that lunch was over, it was time to get to Kevyn’s house and talk to him about this mess with shipping and Diego. She would offer him the job, and they would go from there.
When they pulled up to a modest, cute little house just on the outskirts of La Cruz, Mari noticed how neat and tidy it was, a surfboard was near the front door along with a skateboard. That was interesting.
“Where are we?” Carmen asked, craning her neck to get a better look.
“We’re at one of our employee’s house, Kevyn Sanchez.”
Carmen shrugged. She didn’t interact much with the plantation staff, unless it was time for harvest, but if Kevyn was in shipping, Carmen wouldn’t have met him. She unbuckled her seatbelt, but Mari shook her head. “You wait in the car. I won’t be long.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll search for shoes while I wait.” She smiled, her enthusiasm was back and that made Mari chuckle.
“Nothing will stop her from her mission.”
Carmen laughed. “Nope.”
Mari got out of her car and crossed the stone driveway up to the concrete path. She knocked on the door and waited, her palms sweating a little. She had no idea how this guy would handle the conversation, but if Juan picked him, he had to be someone Juan trusted. That was saying a lot.
The door opened and Mari stared at the man standing there. He was big, with short dark hair and very well-defined features, chiseled high cheekbones, a strong jaw, firm mouth, and young. Younger than she expected and strikingly handsome.
“Mr. Sanchez?” she asked.
He looked from the car to her, then back. She could feel the power of his personality in his gaze even while she could read nothing of his thoughts. “Yeah. How can I help you?”
“I’m—”
“Maritza Navarro. I know who you are.” He had the most soothing voice, deep and calm and certain.
“Oh, I’m sorry we’ve never met.” She reached out her hand, and he took it, a shiver of something running up her arm almost like electricity, a shock of warning. She started to draw her hand back, but he held on to her—lightly but firmly, closing both his long, elegant hands over her much smaller one.
“Who’s in the car?”
