Marie, Laura - Miss: Senorita and the Soldado [The Miss Series 2] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) (13 page)

Maybe she would have made it. But then she thought about all the workouts and training she did. Her body was in excellent physical condition. She had toned legs and a muscular stomach. She kept telling Armando she was doing it for him, and he ate it up.

“Please, Armando, wear protection. I want to have the perfect body for you. I want you to think I’m sexy always,” she had told him, and he loved her for it.

She turned his world upside down. Instead of grabbing her and demanding sex, he would seduce her, be gentle with her, and even confide in her. She knew everything about his business. Every connection, every lowlife involved, and the methods he used. He wanted her by his side all the time and that included during meetings. She knew if she ever escaped and made it to the States, she would have more than enough evidence to capture him and his business associates.

She was so caught up in her act that sometimes, late at night, after a meeting and making love, she would make suggestions about the business. At first, Armando reprimanded her for even thinking about his work, but the more she made suggestions, the more he seemed to believe her commitment to him. Before long, he was asking her opinion.

Elloisa, however, also knew about the corrupt agents and officers involved with Armando. She wasn’t taking any chances by talking to just anyone. She would have to be positive that she trusted the agents completely. How she would ensure this, she wasn’t certain, but some way she needed to figure out who was on her side and who was on Armando’s.

* * * *

Gustavo saw her in his dreams. Elloisa appeared before him in a flowing white dress. Her smile was breathtaking, and he knew she was happy to see him. The way her long chocolate locks cascaded down her back and danced midair as the gentle breeze swept through the room made his insides tighten with desire. She was a stunning woman with a voluptuous figure. He eyed her from feet to breasts. The curve of her hips, the dip in her waist, and the roundness of her breasts made him lick his lips and adjust his position on the bed. In the distance, he heard the sounds of some romantic love song describing a Mexican bawling about lost love and second chances.

She smiled at him and reached for his extended hand. Her legs pressed against the side of the bed, and he caressed her thigh through the light material of the white gown. She looked like an angel.

“I thought you would be angry that I came here,” she stated then shyly bowed her head. His stomach clenched and his manhood throbbed against his boxers.

“Never. I can’t stop thinking about you, Elloisa. I can’t stop wondering what it would feel like to touch you and hold you in my arms.”

She smiled softly “Then don’t stop wondering,” she whispered as she climbed onto the bed and straddled his body.

He loved the feel of her hands against his chest and the way she looked at him with desire. The cleavage of her breasts called to him as his mouth watered, wanting to taste her flesh. He inhaled and he smelled her scent. It was clean and light like roses, and it was intoxicating. He loved the way she smelled, and he loved the feel of her body on top of his.

He held her gaze as she leaned down, moving closer to his lips.

His heart pounded in his chest with anticipation. Then her lips covered his own. They kissed deeply. Their tongues battled for control, and Gustavo craved more of her. He rolled her to her back, pressed his hips against her thighs, spreading them. Elloisa rubbed her hands against his cheeks, his neck, and then his shoulders. He wanted inside of her so badly it burned. Then he heard the
click
. He pulled his lips from hers and glanced over his shoulder, out of breath. Armando Sintorez pointed a gun at him and fired.

Gustavo jumped up, scared out of his mind as he reached to his chest, checking for blood and the bullet wound. Slowly, he realized it was just a nightmare. But he felt every sensation and every touch and taste of Elloisa.

He threw back the sheets and stood up from the bed running his hands through his hair. He felt wild with concern, with possessiveness, and with a need to protect Elloisa from Armando. He had lost his fucking mind. He lost perspective as an agent with this case.

Frustrated, he banged his fist against the bathroom door and turned on the shower.

* * * *

Elloisa awoke during the night. It was four a.m. and she could have sworn she heard Armando’s voice.
Mi hermosa Elloisa. Eres mía siempre y para siempre.
My beautiful Elloisa, you are mine always and forever.
She was haunted by his words. The tears escaped her eyes. It would take a long time, perhaps forever, to rid Armando from her thoughts. She wasn’t completely safe yet. Not until he was dead and she personally saw concrete evidence, like his body. The man was invincible and had escaped death by some of the most notorious hunters and government agents.

She wondered what he was up to right now. Did he have a plan in motion? Was he already in the States? The chills ran up her spine. If she constantly thought about Armando, worried about him finding her, her future would be filled with a life of looking over her shoulder. Then, of course, there was her family.

Sighing, she felt the need to get up and look around the house. She put on her robe and walked quietly downstairs.

It appeared that everyone had settled down to bed, yet it did not feel empty. Her being was aware of the warmth, the safety behind the closed bedroom doors. It was an odd feeling after being alone for so long.

Tiptoeing so as to not awake anyone, she made her way down the staircase. She was home again, and Mexico was behind her. The coolness of the northern temperatures was reassuring. It wasn’t hot and dry like Mexico. She didn’t even have to look out the window to know she was no longer there. Elloisa knew that, but her heart ached something terrible. Swallowing what felt like a lump in her throat, she made her way to the living room.

Taking a moment to let her eyes adjust to the darkness, she located a lamp and turned on the light. One click and a low glow softly illuminated the room.

She scanned the fireplace mantle with her eyes. A family portrait stood above the mantle, and other small frames decorated the mantle and the surrounding furniture.

She made her way over to the wall of memorabilia.

One picture stood out from the others. She was a young girl around eighteen, and her father had her pose by the rosebushes near her mother’s garden. The family was having a party, and she recalled the great time they all had.

Elloisa had her eye on Mitch Branson, a junior at the local college. He was interested, but as soon as she had her first major conversation with him, she decided he wasn’t for her.

She was young, full of life, with the whole world just ahead of her.

By twenty-one she had only two boyfriends in her life and her first lover.

No regrets there.

Charlie, her first lover was gorgeous, sexy, and a successful accountant. Thank God Armando hadn’t taken her virginity as well. The tear escaped her eye.

She placed the picture back down then took three photo albums filled with similar memories.

Elloisa sat on the floor and with every picture, every past moment of her youth, she cried harder and harder.

Then she came across a photo album dated the past year.

She opened up to the first page and there stood her three brothers with her parents.

Her heart sank deeper, the thoughts unnerving that she missed family holidays and good times.

Armando took away everything she treasured and loved. She should have been in that photograph and the ones to follow. The sadness in her parents’ facial expressions were obvious. Her father didn’t look like himself at all.

“Elloisa.”

She turned quickly towards the doorway where her father stood.

She didn’t stop crying. She couldn’t stop crying.

Her daddy went to her, kneeling down on the floor beside her.

“We never stopped thinking about you.”

He must have thought she was angry at him, her mother, and brothers for taking such a photograph without her.

“Oh, Daddy, I know that. I never stopped thinking about any of you. He told me you were all dead.” She lowered her head and continued to cry.

“Oh, baby, my poor Elloisa. It’s all my fault. I never should have taken on that case. If I hadn’t…”

“No, Daddy, don’t. It’s not your fault. Armando is…” She turned away, ashamed.

Her father took her chin in his hand.

“Do not think about Armando anymore. Put the past behind you. We love you and we always will no matter what.” Then he kissed her on the forehead.

She was silent a moment and couldn’t help but ask the next question.

“Did you…did you come looking for me?” she asked, her voice cracking with the last syllable.

“Oh, Elloisa.” Her father pulled her to him and hugged her tight.

“We did everything we could. Your brothers were gone for months, and your mom was a mess with worry that something would happen to her sons, too. They traveled as far as Mexico City and as close as Tijuana.”

She locked gazes with him, grateful to know that they attempted to find her.

“I was held in Durango on a family estate.”

“Durango?”

“South of the Cerro del Mercado.”

“Hmm. Well, you are here now. That is all that matters.”

She smiled softly then glanced down at the photo album again.

“You should get some rest. We have to be at DEA headquarters by ten a.m.”

“I’m not ready to talk with them,” she whispered, still looking at the photo of her family.

“You have to, Elloisa. They need your help.”

“They need my help? They want information and they don’t care at what expense,” she stated. Her thick accent added to the vehemence in her tone.

“You could help bring him down.”

“That may be so, but can they be trusted?” she asked then looked him in the eye.

He waited a moment and understood her concern.

“Tell them what they need to know. Follow your gut, Elloisa. If you don’t answer their questions, then they’ll think you’re guilty of something.”

“I did what I had to do to survive. I wasn’t given a choice unless you count death.” She turned away.

“Maybe that would have been the better choice.”

“No, Elloisa, don’t say that. Don’t ever say that,” her father exclaimed a bit too loud, and she stood from the carpeting, joining him in the center of the living room. She looked at him, watched his eyes, the way he looked at her. She knew immediately he was aware of Armando’s intentions and demands on her.

“I am not the same naïve young woman you remember. I’ve changed, and much of what I’ve become is an influence of the past year in a half. I’m not sure what I’m going to do. You know as well as I do that Armando and his power can reach across borders, break through laws, and defeat even the greatest of soldiers. I’m not a fool. I was forced to learn the trade, the business that took you and the rest of my family away from me. I will do whatever I can to keep you all safe so we can be a family again.”

She saw the tears in her father’s eyes.

“You were too young and innocent to be exposed to such things.” He shook his head.

“My innocence is long gone. I’ve been living in survival mode, just trying to get by and to live to see another day.”

“I don’t want to bombard you with questions, Elloisa.”

“Then don’t.”

“But I can’t help but to think how he must have hurt you.”

She shook her head and took a deep breath.

“I had to train for months to prepare for my journey. I was determined to get away from Armando and his men. I wanted freedom and I wanted a life of independence without someone constantly looking over my shoulder. I couldn’t take the violence, the lack of empathy toward life. I was determined to get back to the United States. I won’t talk until I am certain where these agents stand in an investigation with criminal charges against Armando.”

“I understand. I just want to be sure that he won’t be able to get to you. I want to be sure that he won’t find a way to manipulate you into going back there.”

The tears stung her eyes, and her father’s words made her feel guilty for leaving her family and turning against them. He had every right to express uncertainty about her being manipulated by Armando. But she was not the same young woman her father had known.

“I was blinded by what I thought was true love. His dominance and control overwhelmed me. I was submissive to his words and to his actions.”

“What did Armando tell you about me?” he asked, and she swallowed hard. How could she admit out loud that she had such little confidence in her own father that she believed a man like Armando?

“He told me you were involved, that you were being paid to move shipments through the city and keep the heat off. I witnessed multiple murders, sick, disgusting acts of violence that will never—could never—be erased from my memory. Never mind what he did to me! I do not know what information I’ll give to those agents. All I know is that I am alive when I should be dead. And that my family is alive when they were supposed to be dead, and Armando Sintorez still lives and breathes as a free man.”