Heavy footsteps thundered across the marble floor outside her room, growing louder by the second. Jemma rose slowly from the bed.
Something was … off.
The door opened banging loudly against the wall.
Beatriz stumbled into the room, tripping over her feet as she fell to the floor. Her pretty face was riddled with dark purple bruises.
Jemma’s heart stopped as she rose from the bed.
“Don’t move, preciosa.” Nomar emerged in the doorway. The brows above his sharp, hawk-like eyes furrowed as this gaze landed on her face with a challenge. His voice held a dangerous edge as he said, “Give me the phone. I know you have it.”
She was prepared for this but her pulse still thudded in her neck as she struggled to swallow past the lump in her throat. Forcing a confused look on her face, she said, “What are you talking about? What phone?”
Nomar moved inside the room. Jemma retreated to increase the distance between them. Two guards followed him inside, with assault rifles casually resting in the crook of their arms.
“Senor Ortiz, please,” Beatriz pleaded, tears rolling down her face. “I lost my phone and that’s why I don’t have it. She didn’t take it from me.”
“Liar!” Nomar thundered.
Jemma moved quickly, blocking Nomar’s path to the woman. “If I had a phone, this place would be crawling with DEA agents right now.” She paused dramatically to look around the room. “Do you see any?”
Nomar’s lips curved into the semblance of a smirk. He reached a hand toward his face, brushing his fingertips slowly across his jaw, set firm and dusted with the slightest hint of a day’s growth. “Is this the game you want to play, Preciosa?” Nomar asked, the smirk transitioning to a salacious grin.
“No games,” Jemma said, crossing her arms over her chest. “We both know I don’t want to be here, but I’m not stupid. I know that things could be a lot worse for me. These guards watch every move I make. How the hell could I steal a phone?”
Nomar flicked a hand. One of the guards placed the strap of thegun around his shoulder, then searched the room. Drawers were yanked open, clothes tossed, the mattress overturned and linens tossed into the corner, cushions from the leather chair were thrown to the floor. The chaotic search lasted several minutes until the guard ceased and turned to them with a bewildered look.
“Satisfied?” Jemma asked, glaring at Nomar. “I don’t have a phone. Stop berating this poor woman and drop this.”
Nomar didn’t believe her. But the proof of her guilt was too well-hidden within the pillow.
“Take off your clothes,” Nomar thundered, barking the order at Jemma.
“What?” Jemma balked.
“Prove that you have not hidden the phone, preciosa. Strip for me. Now!”
Jemma clenched her jaw, then grabbed the hem of her tank top and yanked it over her head, tossing it to the floor. She unbuttoned her khaki shorts, allowing them to fall to a heap around her ankles. Stepping aside, she kicked the shorts in Beatriz’s direction.
Wearing nothing but her bra and bikini underwear, she turned slowly in front of Nomar.
“Happy now?” Jemma demanded.
Nomar reached for her, pulling her close to him. “Fuck, you are so beautiful.” He leaned forward and pressed soft kisses along her neck and down toward her breasts. His hands gripped her hips as he pressed his throbbing rock hard cock against her.
Jemma recoiled, repulsed by his touch but he held her tight against him.
“I will have you, preciosa,” Nomar said, almost panting the words in his sex-fueled excitement. “Soon.”
Nomar brushed his lips softly against Jemma’s in a gentle kiss, then he shoved her. She stumbled backward into the iron grasp of the guard.
Nomar turned his attention to Beatriz. “Get the fuck up, you lying bitch.”
“Please, Senior Ortiz …” Beatriz’s voice was a low.
“I left you specific instructions to have all of Jemma’s meals sent to her room while I was away,” Nomar said, his voice cold as ice. “But you disobeyed me.” He reached a hand into his sport coat and pulled out a gun.
A flash of Aurelia’s face slammed into Jemma’s mind.
