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Eric understood all right—they were being vetted.
“I must protect my business and myself,” Arturo continued, lifting a hand and making the men ringing his booth flick their jackets up enough to reveal their semi-automatic weapons.
“Of course,” Eric agreed, widening his eyes at the weapons as if startled by them even though he could identify the make and models by the handles alone.
Rhianne was approaching, drinks in hand, and he stood to greet her. “Honey, guess what? We got an invite for a weekend-long party!”
“Great!” Rhianne smiled. “You know what that means—I’ll need some new clothes!”
Somehow Eric got through the goodbyes, noting the when and where to join Arturo the next day, before he looped his arm around Rhianne, and they strolled away. He had to force himself to saunter when he wanted to tear out of that place.
Rhianne didn’t say one word during the cab ride home, but once they were inside their hotel room, she kicked off her shoes, tore off her jewelry, and paced up and down, cursing a blue streak. It had probably been even more difficult for her to be around Arturo and play nice than it had been for him, Eric guessed. When her rage ebbed, she began shaking.
“Hey. Rhianne. Rhi. Look at me,” Eric ordered, crossing to stand in front of her. When she did, he held her upper arms. “You can do this. You can hold it together. You hear me?”
Her eyes were enormous in her pale face. For a moment, she just stared up at him. Then she grabbed his head, threaded her fingers through his hair, and kissed him.
Her touch sent a current sparking through him, lighting up his nerve ends. It was impossiblenotto respond. Meeting her touch for touch, Eric wrapped his arms around her body and plundered her mouth, learning her taste as well as her scent, intoxicated by the way she felt against him. It was almost,almostenough to make him forget himself.
No.He didn’t know how he managed, but he pulled away from her. Because the truth was, he knew that this wasn’t what Rhianne truly wanted. This wasn’t about desire. It was about oblivion. She just wanted to make everything go away—and her desperation was keeping her from thinking clearly. She’d regret what she did when she was calm. Taking her now would make him no better than Eli. He had to play that role when they were around other people, but he wouldn’t let himself become that kind of man. Not ever.
Rhianne stepped back and pulled her hands from him as though he were on fire. Well, he was, burning up from the inside out. “Sorry. I—” Shaking her head, Rhianne stumbled as she fled for the bathroom.
Should he go after her, explain he wasn’t rejectingher?
Confused, aching for her, Eric spent another sleepless night.
7
Rhianne shot yet another look in the rearview mirror but couldn’t see anything following her vehicle as she drove back toward the compound the next morning. There was something in front of her that kept drawing her eyes though—Eric on a motorbike he’d…helped himself to. Since they were handling this early in the morning to avoid being seen, he was pretty confident that he could return the motorbike when they were done, with the owner being none the wiser. He rode well, she acknowledged, and was obviously used to bikes. Did he have one? It hadn’t come up in their backstory crafting so far.
He signaled for them to pull over and she nodded, although he couldn’t see her. Yes, this was a good place to leave their rental car—close enough that they’d be able to get to it from the compound if they needed to leave in a hurry, but far away enough to not be noticed by the guards.
“Okay?” Eric asked, one of the few words they’d exchanged so far that day.
She gave another nod rather than speak. Well, what could she say? Ask him why he’d rejected her last night? Heat burned in her when she recalled her actions…and his reaction. She bit her lip when she had to swing a leg over the motorbike and sit behind him, pressed up against him, for the ride back to Tijuana. Rhianne was careful not to hold him too tightly and felt relieved when she could climb off and get back to their hotel room while Eric returned the bike.
There was just enough time to “Raquel” her hair and makeup before they checked out and caught a cab to the Café Americano, the meeting place that Arturo had specified.
“Not hard to identify our fellow guests,” Eric commented, lifting his chin at the dozen or so people clustered around a couple of cordoned-off sidewalk tables outside the café. “They all look like tourists.”
Rhianne nodded agreement. Taking a deep breath, she threaded her arm through Eric’s and joined the group. Most were couples, in a similar vein to “Raquel and Eli,” but there were a few single guys in the mix.
A minibus pulled up in the street.Finca Rodriguez, its destination board read. The Rodriguez Estate.
“Ooh, that’s us!” called a woman next to Rhianne, waving wildly and pulling her partner toward it.
This was it. They were doing it. Working hard to keep a fatuous smile on her face and easy chitchat on her lips, Rhianne got through the journey out of Tijuana to the compound, but her breath stuck in her throat when they were driven through the same gates she’d watched that bus pass through yesterday. On instinct, she reached out for Eric’s hand and when his fingers tightened around hers, she squeezed. His immediate answering squeeze strengthened her.
“Isn’t itgreen?” exclaimed the woman she’d found out was named Melissa.
“It’s kinda like the resort we stayed in last spring,” her husband Leo agreed.
Once they were beyond the entrance, the compound proved to be every bit as plush and resort-like as Arturo had indicated, but the beauty of the landscaping didn’t lift Rhianne’s spirits. Instead, fear crushed her chest. Robyn was here. She just knew it. She was grateful beyond words that Eric kept hold of her hand when the bus came to a stop and they were guided off.
“Bienvenida. Welcome!”
Rhianne whipped around at the female voice calling out to them, A woman with wavy black hair stood in the center of the courtyard, near the fountain. She gave the group a warm smile.
