Page 12 of Chris

Jorge did nothing without reason.

Valeria assumed this was the same.

“Not too far, now,” Valeria called to her daughter as Maria dared to head for the deep end. She could swim in it, but it still made Valeria a little too nervous for her liking. “Come back where you can still touch your feet, Maria.”

“Okay, Mamá,” her girl replied.

She watched as Maria swam closer to the edge of the pool on the shallow side, her tanned legs kicking up a storm and splattering the tiled edge with droplets of water. It was only then that Valeria noticed the man approaching, and because Maria happened to splash him with water from the pool.

Not that he seemed to care.

Dressed in beige slacks, his leather shoes hit the tiles soundlessly as he rolled up the sleeves of his silk dress shirt around his elbows, showing off skin darkened by the sun. He’d left the top two buttons of his shirt undone at his throat and seemed comfortable approaching them.

Roberto García.

Son of a rival cartel leader.

Enemy of theirs.

In peace talks.

And also—

“Ah, dove, you’re getting too much sun,” Roberto murmured as he came to a stop beside Abril’s lounger.

Abril took a deep breath, but didn’t move her sunhat to peer up at the man who should be her intended husband sometime over the next few months. Or, that’s what Valeria had understood. According to Jorge, it was one of the many attempts at making peace between the rival cartels. Although, she wasn’t sure they should trust anything that came out of his rotten mouth.

“I am fine, but gracias,” Abril replied, not unkindly.

Still, a bite lingered in her tone.

Roberto didn’t miss it if the slight narrowing of his eyes was any sign to his lessening patience. His gaze darted to Valeria, and he offered her a tight smile. “You two look like twins today—almost.”

Yes, her in a pale pink one-piece.

Abril in her white one.

Valeria shrugged. “Only from behind, though.”

That made Abril laugh.

Roberto didn’t understand.

Valeria grinned.

Her amusement didn’t last long when a familiar figure came to stand on the marble steps. She swore she distinguished his gaze nailing into her from thirty feet away. She couldn’t see his eyes from behind the dark aviator sunglasses he wore, their weight was still palpable.

“Valeria, clean Maria up and come inside,” Jorge called out to her, “we’re about ready to sit down for dinner.”

She didn’t reply, simply moved to do as she was told, slipping off the lounger to approach the side of the pool. As she pulled Maria from the water, a towel already waiting for her to dry her daughter off, and get her dressed, Roberto murmured something to Abril behind her before he headed for the mansion.

Valeria turned around with a towel-wrapped Maria in just enough time to watch Abril glower at the man’s back as he walked away. “Be careful,” she told her sister-in-law, “because they won’t like seeing your face looking like that about him.”

Abril’s jaw tightened before her hateful expression morphed into a blank slate. “I refuse to marry that man.”

“He isn’t a bad man.”

“He isn’t the man I want, Val.”