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“Yeah.” The glance she gave Cage as she made her way to the pool bar said she was more than surprised he understood.
“And you’re mad, too.”
“Totally.”
She looked even more shocked at his insight. Really, it wasn’t that hard to guess. He heard from victims every day on the beat. But it was nice to have found a point of connection with her. Still, it didn’t stop him from needing some facts. “So let’s try this again. Have you slept with anyone since you’ve been here? He’ll be my first suspect.”
“No.”
Cage held in his sigh of relief. He didn’t have the right to expect that he was the only man in her life—yet. But he couldn’t deny that he wanted to be. “Anyone who…I don’t know, bought you a drink?”
“It’s an all-inclusive resort. The booze is included.”
“Or any gesture like that. Someone who shared a meal with you? Invited you to his room?”
“No.” She tossed on her sunglasses as they emerged from the brightly colored lobby to the infinity edge pool overlooking the Caribbean Sea.
At the restaurant’s entrance, they waited for someone to seat them. A few moments later, a smiling young, dark-eyed woman showed them to a table on the waterfront, tucked under the shade provided by the grassy roof overhead, swaying slightly in the warm tropical wind.
He helped Karis into her chair, then they both grabbed a menu from the table as the sun began to sink to the west. They both did a quick scan before setting the laminated list of foods aside. The moment they did, a Hispanic waiter approached the table with two glasses of water in hand—and eyes only for Karis.
“Hello, señorita.Buenas noches. How have you been?” He smiled as he set the water down, a glass in front of each plate.
“I’m all right. Thanks, Miguel.”
The twenty-something punk—probably closer to Karis’s age—beamed. “Thank you for remembering me, Señorita Karis. You lookmuy bonita.”
When he winked, Cage wanted to hurl. How often did the guy use that line on lonely tourists? He was good-looking enough, so it probably worked more often than it should.
It wouldn’t have any impact on Karis, Cage decided. Not while he was here.
“I appreciate that.” She gave him a small, slightly dismissive smile, obviously ready to order.
“Were you not supposed to travel home this morning?” Miguel asked.
She nodded, looking glum and agitated. “Yeah. Someone stole my passport last night, so I’ll be here another couple of days.”
The waiter turned a shocked expression her way. To Cage, it looked awfully staged.
“That is terrible. I’m so sorry someone would mar the Mexican hospitality we have done our best to show you this week with an act so callous. If I can do anything beyond bring you food to be of assistance—”
“I’ll take care of her,” Cage assured.
The slick Latin lover finally looked at him, expression tightening. “Señor. Hello. Are you a new guest with us, then?”
“Looks like it.”
His mouth pursed further as he slid another stolen glance at Karis. No doubt, the little shit was displeased.
“Very good,” Miguel said as if having him here were anything but, then turned his attention back to Karis. “What may I bring you today?”
She leaned her elbows on the table, probably not realizing how much cleavage she flashed the waiter. “I’ll take a chicken quesadilla and a margarita, heavy on the tequila, light on the salt.”
“For you, señoritabonita, anything.” He clapped a hand to his heart, then flung his arms out to her as if to say he was giving her all his love.
Cage resisted the urge to puke—or throw a punch. Instead, he settled for taking Karis’s hand across the table and holding it firmly when she—predictably—tried to pull away. “I’ll have the same. And some privacy to talk to my girlfriend.”
At his words, Miguel scowled before masking it with a politely bland expression. “Of course. Let me know if you would like anything else.”
