Ricardo (The Santiago Brothers Book Three) (11 page)

Mel swallowed at the choking sensation in her throat. He was serious. Deadly serious. She knew how terrorism worked. Only a small window of opportunity existed to discover who the enemy was and what they were going to do before lives were lost.

And in the process, she and Ric could lose their lives.

Ric wasn’t the enemy, but someone else was. She could, had to, trust him with her life or she’d never return home. “Okay. I trust you.”

A dark brow rose as curiosity flashed across his tanned features. “You do?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Just like that?”

“Well, not exactly.”

That impish grin was back and his eyes darkened just a bit as he broke eye contact and stared at her lips. “Something helped it along, eh? Your trust in me, that is.”

She wanted to hurl her drink at him but it was too cold to let it go to waste. Instead, she took two generous sips before she spoke. “The story of the cut on your neck.”

“Hmm. That’s it?”

“And just what exactly do you want me to say?”

“The truth.”

That he’d practically kissed the trust right from her lips? No. She wouldn’t say that — not yet. The story of his father’s terror had softened her heart’s steel exterior, but her trust in him had begun to build long before she heard the tale. “You’ve done so much for me. Saved my life, helped me with um…” She looked at the spot on the rug where she’d been immobilized by fear and dread that a repeat occurrence of the rape in college couldn’t be avoided.

“And we’re going to build on that. Right?”

She nodded her head slowly and met his eyes. “Right.”

“Good, because I don’t wanna get used to kissing you just yet.”

Where is it?

Mel frantically searched her bag of belongings Ric had secured from Abdul. “Please, please, please be in here.”

“What?”

Ric smelled
so
good. Soap and a faint smell of musk. It nearly made her pause and breathe deeply. In under a minute, the entire tent was filled with his fragrance. She cut him a swift glance and returned to her search. She forced herself not to dwell on how his slicked back, jet-black hair glistened with moisture and curled right at the nape of his neck. Or how she didn’t see him just slip on a fresh black t-shirt over well-defined abs. Especially not how his biceps flexed when he pulled the slide back on his Ruger to check the chamber.

And his smile.

Nothing in this world had ever looked so beautiful to her. His grin was broad as his eyes settled on her and he waited for her response. She hated to turn away, but everything about him was too distracting.

Even her comfort level around him couldn’t be explained. Last night, he’d slept in the same position as he had the previous night — on his side of the pillows in the bed — and once again, she’d slept so deeply she hadn’t noticed his presence there. She’d slept like a baby — dreamed even. It’d only taken a couple of nights, and a couple of kisses, and she was ready to trust him.
Am I making the right decision? I can’t be this nervous around men. Not every man will attack me...

“Mel?”

She let out a blast of air. “I can’t find it.”

“Tell me what you’re looking for and maybe I can help.”

“Is this all Abdul had? He didn’t give you anything else of mine?”

Ric shook his head. His brows dipped and his eyes moved from the bag to her face. “
What
are you looking for?”

“My badge and creds.”

“Your law enforcement badge and credentials?”

“No, my flight attendant badge and creds — look.” She paused and dragged a hand through her matted hair.
I must look like a hot mess.
Ric had beat her to the bath and she’d thought to casually look around for her badge and creds all the while forgetting that she’d just woken up and hadn’t even checked her face—

“Ask me nicely and I’ll help you look for it.”

Her eyes shot to the playful look in his own, his full mouth cocked to one side in a flirtatious smirk.

Maybe I don’t look half bad.

“I forgot you’re not a morning person.”

She inwardly cringed at the cheeky reminder of her second morning in the tent. The night before, her mind raced with thoughts of her handsome rescuer; exhaustion hit her with the force of a sandstorm. Gently shaken from her slumber, the action startled her so much she screamed and threw a punch, socking him in the rib cage.

“The bruise is just now forming, if you wanna see.”

With his left hand, he patted himself underneath his right arm; the other hand fingered the bottom of his shirt. Her cheeks warmed. “Uh, I believe you.”

“And I believe you have a great left hook.” His eyes softened as they traveled the length of her. “You were sleeping so peacefully, I hated waking you.”

“I don’t know how…”

“How to sleep? You have trouble sleeping?”

Not anymore.
Not for a long time, actually, but it had taken long nights of counting sheep and reading Russian literature.
Who was the author? Tolsoy, Toldoy—

“Dare I consider that my presence has soothed your restlessness?”

Mel snorted. “I appreciate you being my guard dog.”

“You know, when I went to live with my relatives in Florida, they had a dog. Gorgeous lab — a golden blonde. Sometimes I woke up and found her right next to me.”

“I think I’m fine alone.”

“I thought we established that my presence soothes you.”

“Er, I recall
you
making that declaration.”

He walked around the bed to where she stood with her bag in hand. “And you agree?”

He softly trailed his fingers down the length of her left arm, hooked her elbow and drew her closer. Mel couldn’t help how her eyes drifted to his lips. “I think so…”

“Good. Then let me help you.”

Suddenly less anxious, she managed a smile and a nod. “First place we have to look is Abdul.”

“Mmm, not
we
. Me.”

Mel’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

Ric moved to where his black cloak laid over a chair near the entrance of the tent. He snatched the garment up and wrapped himself. “You still can’t leave this tent. Too dangerous. I have some people in the kitchen I have to talk to but afterwards, I’ll pay a short visit to Abdul’s tent and see what I can find. There shouldn’t be any reason for him to keep them.”

“He’ll go to the sheik.”

“And say what? You’re still under my protection, at least for one more night. Besides, the sheik doesn’t care who you are.”

“And you trust this sheik.”

A downcast shadow settled over his features and his lips dipped into a slight frown. “He’s a source. I can only trust him so much and for so far.”

“Look, Ric, I know how this works. I’ve been working in the marshal undercover unit. I know all about the difficulties of trusting compromised individuals.”

Ric nodded. A new look of understanding crossed his features. “And there’s another reason why it’s difficult for you to trust, but Hassan hasn’t given me any reason to doubt him.”

Yes, there was another reason… “Except he may know something about the terrorist you’re looking for.”

Ric’s mouth twisted into a smirk that spoke of disappointment. “I’m hoping that’s not the case. Or if it is, that he already has a plan in place to neutralize the threat. He has trade partners in the United States and aligning himself with our enemies isn’t in his best interests.”

“Yeah, if he expects to continue taking lavish sabbaticals like this.”

Ric chuckled. “He’s made of money. His father was an extremely wealthy man and so was his father. But, souring relations with the US would hurt his bottom line, especially in other areas of interest, so he’ll do what’s necessary to protect the family business.”

“Looks like you have your plate full. Let me look for my badge.”

“No.”

Mel tossed her bag aside and marched toward him. “Yes. You said I’m under your protection. Nobody will—”

“You just can’t walk around unescorted in a camp full of men.”

“I’m American. The cultural rules don’t apply.”

“But sensitivity does.”

In a show of immovability, Mel crossed her arms over her chest. “This is my responsibility. You have your mission to worry about.”

A spark of glitter was nearly missed as Ric’s eyes turned dark. “You’re
my
responsibility — and anything that concerns you. I’d worry less about your safety if you remained in the tent. Stop fighting me and let me do my job. I’ll find your badge.”

What is with these Santiago men? They’re all so...so...
Pain shot through her arm from underneath it and she realized she pinched herself to keep from arguing.

“And while I’m gone, if you need anything, Hakeem will see to it. He should be back any minute now, so don’t go anywhere.”

His back was to her now and she ground her teeth to keep from snapping at him. He was holding her against her will. Was this his “protection”?
He has too much on his plate. He’ll blow his cover if Abdul finds him in his tent.

“I’m not sure how long I’ll be, but it’ll probably be a few hours.” He faced her then, his easy grin in place and eyes twinkling with merriment. “I’ve left something for you over there.” He paused and pointed at the table. “I hope you like it.”

Was he blushing?

Yes, yes he was.

A slight crimson hue bled through his dark beard and settled across the bridge of his nose. Mel’s eyes darted to the wrapped bundle on the table. “What is it?”

When he didn’t respond, her gaze returned to where he had stood a moment ago only to see he’d gone.

****

Ric adjusted his headscarf over his nose and mouth and kept his eyes downcast. The winds stirred sand into a cloud that appeared to swirl and whoosh all around him. He fished his black shades out from the breast pocket of his shirt and slipped them on. Better, but one wrong inhale would have him choking on grit.

The morning sun was hot, the air stifled with the addition of scattered dunes, all making this morning simply unpleasant. A hundred things needed to be done and decided upon, which could be hindered if the invisible hand that sent sand scraping across his skin around his glasses didn’t cease from waving.

And to make matters worse, Mel’s badge and credentials were missing.
That’s not good.
No doubt there was a picture of her in the creds, which could be replaced and used for unintended purposes.
Like permitting a person through security at the US Embassy.

Although security was known to be tight, a law enforcement official — or one posing as one — could easily game the system by playing the law enforcement card. Abdul had kidnapped Mel and unless someone close to him was actually planning the attack, Abdul would be the one most likely to benefit from Mel’s misplaced badge.

Ric released a frustrated grunt and continued to trudge through the loose sand beneath his feet as the winds picked up. They’d be in the middle of a full-blown storm in any minute.
Mel, stay put.
He could see she was uncomfortable with not having her badge and probably more agitated with being ordered to sit, wait, and do nothing. He’d only known her a couple of days but he could already guess she was the active type — and impatient. One who never stayed indoors too long. Soon she’d get cabin — no, tent — fever and if he didn’t keep an eye on her, she was likely to solve the problem herself.

Which would mean big problems for him.

He was orderly. Everything he did was by the book. One by one, he watched his older brothers leave the house when their mother kicked them out at eighteen. The last year in high school, he was alone. Without Ale and Rafa, he’d fallen out with their group of friends and became a bit of a recluse. His brothers were an influence on him from their juvenile antics and pseudo-criminal behavior to his experiences with women. He’d learned how to pick a lock, hot-wire a car, French kiss and fondle at the same time, select a home to burglarize, and countless other tactics he found quite useful in the clandestine world. But he never would have made it here if he wasn’t a company man. Attending his senior year without his brothers — knowing his delinquency was what kept him from those he loved most — changed his entire outlook on life.

Just not before his mother noticed.

Promptly at eighteen, he was sent to live with his mother’s cousin’s extended family in Miami. It angered him that his mother couldn’t forgive him when she spouted Bible verses about it all the time concerning his deadbeat dad. Then, he realized actions spoke louder than words. It was his fault his father had left, and he had to do what he could to make up for the trouble he’d caused after his father’s absence. While in college, he enrolled in the ROTC program and before he knew it, school was over and he was in basic training for the Marine Corps. He mailed Maria Santiago several letters and postcards but she never responded. Either that or by the time he would have received her letter, he’d since moved without leaving a forwarding address. His time in the Marines had taught him attention to detail but it was too late to send his mom a new address. He was recruited by the agency and permanently stationed in the Middle East. Contact with family or friends was strongly discouraged — for operational security.

Mel was his only link to the outside world. The only way to connect to a family he hadn’t seen in more than ten years. Perhaps he’d been more lonely for the love of family than he had realized. Is that why he was so eager to know her? And her him? She’d worked with Ale. Would she share some of her stories? Ric grinned beneath his cover. Asking her nicely wouldn’t be a problem.

Her accepting might.

Ric reached the small tent of a man who he only knew as Rafiq. As the sheik’s chief cook, Rafiq spent a great deal of time around both Hassan and Abdul, often serving them drinks and meals. If the sheik was aiding the attack on the embassy, Rafiq might have overheard some of the details. Ric needed information on the attack but at the same time, he couldn’t stomach the thought of the sheik’s betrayal. All those years building a relationship and he hadn’t truly known the man.