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“Sí.” El Perro was obviously enjoying himself, but Trent wanted to rip his throat out.
“And?”
“And nothing. She did not recognize him.”
That didn’t solve the problem. “What about him?”
“He looked long at her, but said nothing.” The Dog leaned across the table. “The silver-haired one, I do not trust him, amigo. His eyes, they are dead.”
Amen. Trent’s fists clenched. “Anything else?”
“Nothing.”
Trent pulled out a thin envelope and threw it across the table. “You were sloppy,” he said. “She saw you on the veranda.”
The swarthy man’s brows drew together. He shifted his cigarette to one side of his mouth and counted the bills. “Sloppy. Not el Perro.” Satisfied that the money was all there, he squinted through the trailing smoke of his cigarette. “I was never on your veranda, amigo.”
* * *
Nikki checked her watch. Trent had been gone nearly forty-five minutes. He’d told her he was going down to the lobby to talk to the manager about tighter security, and she’d expected him by now.
The storm had blown itself out during the night, and the day was bright and clear, the afternoon sun once again streaming through the windows.
She glanced at the bed and felt her neck burn scarlet. How many times last night had they made love? Three times? Four? She couldn’t remember. Not that it mattered, she supposed, but their lovemaking had been so wild… so…desperate, as if they both knew it would suddenly end. Stupid woman with silly-girl dreams.
Trent had promised her they could stop in the town to do some last-minute shopping before they left, and she was anxious to pick up the film. She would have to find a way to ditch him again, for only a few minutes, but that shouldn’t be difficult.
She heard his key in the lock and smiled when he entered. “I thought I’d lost you,” she said, but noticed the air of urgency in his step, the grim line of his mouth.
“Not so lucky,” he said, but never smiled. “Are you packed?” He noticed the bags near the door and nodded. “Good. There’s a chance we can catch an earlier flight, but we’ve got to get to the airport in twenty minutes.”
Her heart dropped to the floor. “Wait a minute,” she argued as he picked up her suitcase and garment bag. “I thought we were going into town—”
“No time.”
“But you promised,” she said, desperation gripping her heart in a stranglehold. “I told you I wanted to go shopping and—”
“Sorry.”
“I’m not leaving until—”
“You’re leaving and you’re leaving now. With me,” he said, his voice brooking no argument.
“In case you haven’t heard, this isn’t the Dark Ages, McKenzie! You can’t just order me around like you’re some lord and I’m your sorry little servant girl—Oh!”
He grabbed with hands tight as manacles circling her forearms. “It’s not safe here anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“The man on the deck. I think you were right. He wasn’t a burglar.”
“Who was he?” she asked, trying to keep the fear from her voice.
“I don’t know, but we’re not sticking around to find out.” He dropped her arms at a knock on the door and allowed the bellboy in to help with their bags.
Nikki was beginning to feel desperate. “It would only take a minute.”
The phone rang loudly and Trent reached for the receiver. “Hello?”
