Warrior Mine (12 page)

H
e taught
her daughter how to fish. The evidence of it sat grilled on the plate in front of her beside steamed broccoli and a mixture of brown rice, mushrooms, and English peas. A million thoughts collided into one another. Of course the most ridiculous rose to the top, but the mother in her never rested. No way in hell would Sophia eat the mushroom rice she shoveled with her fork, and—oh my lord—slipped into her mouth.

Had the man completely brainwashed her? And, if so, was there any way he’d show her the technique? For ten long years Carmen had picked out and scooped up mushrooms from her daughter’s plate because she couldn’t stand the texture of the things, cooked or otherwise.

“Mom,” Sophia said, leaning over and grabbing her hand, “try it. It’s delicious.”

The little witch. If she weren’t so over the moon to see her daughter alive and well, happy even, she’d pinch a rib. Sophia disliked mushrooms about as much as Carmen hated the slimy things.

In the vein of peace, Carmen smiled at her daughter and scooped some rice onto her fork that held a small piece of mushroom. She chewed, swallowed, and grabbed her glass of water.

“Great, right?” Sophia asked.

“It’s very good,” she lied. The flavor was exceptional, but the mushroom’s gooey slide down her throat knocked the dish to unacceptable in her book.

Her daughter’s smile brightened and Carmen felt as though the roof had been removed front the structure and the sun warmed her face. Sophia leaned toward Vail—who Carmen had managed to avoid eye contact with for the last few hours—and giggled. “She hates mushrooms.”

Carmen zeroed in on them both. Vail clamped his lips between his teeth, holding back a smile. Though she’d tried to avoid looking at him altogether, she’d caught the shocking glimpse of his ripe and ready smile. It seemed Sophia could pull it out of him at every turn. Carmen had thought his mouth small and narrow. When he smiled as he did now his entire face transformed. Big white teeth peeked from behind a truly wide pair of silky lips.

“You don’t have to eat it. It won’t hurt my feelings,” he said…to her.

She had to rip her gaze from his mouth to meet his eyes. Heat pooled in her cheeks. He’d caught her. His eyes said so. Yet, he didn’t hold it over her head. It appeared as though he didn’t hold anything overhead. But appearances were rarely what they seemed. How could he not hate her for shooting him?

He looked no worse for wear with his snug sweater and cargo pants that hugged his high, tight ass. To her horror, his loose-hipped swagger was sure intact. She couldn’t speak to respond, so she gave a weak smile.

“I’ve been spoiled over the last couple of days,” Sophia beamed. “Vail is as good of a cook as you, Mom.”

Flattery upon flattery for Vail had gushed from her daughter’s mouth since she set foot inside the cozy home. The notion she’d clued into earlier all but solidified in her mind. Sophia was matchmaking. At first, Carmen had thought the idea ludicrous as her daughter regaled her with the story of her rescue. But the more Sophia talked, the longer they sat at the intimate round table together, the more tension mounted like a fog rolling in, the more convinced she became of her daughter’s temerity.

To corner that thought dead in its tracks she looked to Vail. “I’m surprised you haven’t killed me yet or slapped handcuffs on me, considering I shot you in the stomach.”

“It was the large intestine actually.” Plate empty, he lounged back in his chair, one arm draped over the back with his wrist resting in the curve of the wooden chair back. A smirk toyed with his mouth.

“He understands you were just trying to protect me,” Sophia offered.

“I broke the law, Sophia. My reasoning doesn’t matter. Wait. You know I shot him?” Carmen asked, incredulity thick in her tone.

“Yeah,” she shrugged.

Carmen looked from one canary to another, wondering what exactly the two of them had planned and why it irritated her so much that they shared a bond that excluded her.

T
ry as he might
, Vail couldn’t figure Carmen, or himself for that matter. He’d been strategically hiding his wayward hard-ons from both females, while mentally berating himself for their very existence. She shot him. Carmen shot him. And, gave him wood apparently. It wasn’t a wonder. She would swivel heads everywhere she went. He knew it as sure as he knew if he continued down this path he’d be stuck at the dinner table until after the girls retired for the night.

Time to change tactics, since brooding silence had gotten him nowhere.

“How old were you when you found out about your family’s dealings?” He didn’t have to say her name. She’d been staring at him like he might sprout another head. He certainly hoped not. His pants couldn’t handle it.

“Twenty-two,” she said softly.

Her jacket hung over the back of the chair, which was one of the reasons he had so much difficulty. Her breasts sat full and high on her chest, held up by the straps of a soft pink bra. He’d caught glimpse of it beneath the edges of her tank. She folded her arms and he wondered if it was a tactical or defensive move. He had to strain his normally agile brain cells to follow the conversation he’d started.

“Were you that naive?” His voice held no accusation.

“Maybe,” she bristled. “My father sheltered us. Except for my mother’s death, we had a good upbringing, fairytale to most.”

When he didn’t speak she continued.

“Our father was attentive, playing with us, teaching us to defend ourselves and use weapons. His reasons were altruistic—or so they seemed. He wanted us to be able to protect each other, me and Carlos, from the bad people in the world.” She heaved a sigh and fell silent. They all honored it with their own silence.

“I often wonder what things would have been like,” she breathed, “if my mother had survived.”

Worse
.

Vail’s immediate thought flashed like a neon sign in Vegas, threatening to slip between his lips. He clamped them shut. No one wanted their mother disparaged. Even if that mother had commanded brutal executions, the corruption of a police force, and the ruination of thousands of lives.

The hard lines of Carmen’s face softened at the mention of her mother. She turned to Sophia, smiled and reached over, tracking a thumb over the girl’s cheek.

His nape prickled.

Carmen turned to him. “She’d never have stood for his murderous ways. She’d have left him. Taken us. Run away and never gone back.”

Vail nearly choked as the realization dawned. Carmen had no clue about her mother’s involvement in the Arellano-Félix Organization. She only knew Ángela Arellano-Félix-Ruez as Mom.

“You taught me the same things Grandpa taught you,” Sophia chimed.

Carmen’s gaze shifted from his face and for the first time he was grateful. Her almost-black curls shook. “Yes, but in our case I wasn’t the bad person from which you needed protecting.”

“What happened at twenty-two to shatter your ideals?” Vail asked in search of solid ground.

As though she were as restless as he, Carmen straightened. She looked at him, then to Sophie, and back again. “My father rented out a club in Ensenada for my twenty-second birthday. I don’t know why. The noise and alcohol entertained his business associates, not me. I walked into the back room to find some peace for just a minute. Instead I walked in on him executing my fiancé.”

“I’m sorry. We don’t need to talk about this now.” He glanced at Sophie.

“I already know about it.” Her chest puffed. “I’m not a child. She didn’t even love the guy. Grandpa arranged the marriage.”

“Sophia!” Carmen chided.

“You didn’t,” Sophia shrugged.

“You make it sound as though I was pleased,” her mother continued.

“You didn’t want to marry the creep,” Sophie rebutted.

“No, but I didn’t want to see him murdered either.” Carmen’s eyes flared wide.

Vail marveled at the girls’ rapid-fire exchange. They spoke loudly, but neither seemed particularly angry with the other. In his house growing up, if a back and forth lasted this long or heated in the slightest it meant no life for a week at minimum. Sophie inhaled to speak again. He decided to intervene.

“Why would your father murder the man he chose for you to marry?” Both of them snapped their heads in his direction.

“Grandpa caught him stealing,” Sophie spouted. Carmen shot her a withering look and the girl’s hands went up. “Okay. Okay.” She wiped her mouth and stood. “I’m going to enjoy my newfound freedom and quit saying the wrong things.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Carmen nodded, “but no calling friends or Oscar. We’re laying low, remember?”

“I remember,” Sophia agreed.

“Who’s Oscar?” Vail pinned Sophia with his gaze as he spoke overtop her.

“Not your business,” Carmen barked, while Sophia went palms-up again and said, “Just a friend from school.”

Not your business.

She was right. Sophie wasn’t his problem. So why did the sudden comprehension feel like someone syphoned the life right out of him? Luckily anger shored the dam. Vail took his rage, once again the only thing inside his scarred body, and headed for the door.

T
he door slammed
behind Vail’s immense frame and her body jerked. Out of the corner of her eye, Carmen saw her daughter flinch too. But she couldn’t tear her gaze from the door. Shock froze her in place.

“He cares about me,” Sophia’s tiny voice warbled. “You may not care about that, but I do.”

By the time she turned, caught in the quicksand of yet another surprise, only the heels of her daughter’s receding tennis shoes were visible at the top of the staircase. When the
bash
of the bedroom door echoed down the wall Carmen succumbed to the morass of a situation too confounding and monumental to tackle. She shoved the plate to the side, laid her forehead on the table, and closed her eyes.

It had been more than twenty-four hours since she’d slept. And nearly a month since she’d slept well. Exhaustion, only partially due to lack of sleep, clawed at her. Though her eyes were closed, she could never sleep, not with his expression and her daughter’s words on loop in her head.

If she kicked a kitten she couldn't sink any lower. Who could have guessed a fierce warrior was capable of such a wounded affect? He’d grimaced more when she’d informed him Sophie was not his concern than he had when she’d physically injured him.

Deny it all she wanted before, there was no denying Sophia’s desperate and growing need for a father figure. Carmen had been overjoyed that she hadn’t clung to her grandfather or uncle throughout the years. Now she cared about Vail Tucker. She couldn’t have picked a more honorable man, but she sure as hell could have clung to a less perplexing one.

When she set a course for herself she never deviated. It may take almost ten years to see it through, but faltering wasn’t an option for her or Sophia’s sake. Vail’s unsettling stare and delectable body terrified her because he could make her stray from the solitary path she’d set.

Carmen ignored the thoughts of temptation and peeled herself from the table. The stairs creaked only once as she snuck up. She placed her ear against the door to the tiny room Sophia showed her around earlier. Silence greeted her. It was better than tears, worse than an open door and arms. Her daughter couldn’t possibly have guessed that though Sophia needed the hugs before dinner, Carmen needed the reassurance Sophia was okay even more. The thought of never seeing her daughter again had plagued her so. By God, she wouldn’t lose her now that she’d just gotten her back. She’d go after Vail, for Sophia, for absolution she didn’t deserve, and for irrational curiosity.

The roar of the engine hadn’t started after he’d left. So, he couldn’t have gone far. Carmen grabbed her jacket off the chair, slipped it on, and headed into the cold. It took less than a step from the door to find him half-naked in light cast from the porch.

Her lips parted to speak, but her jaw hung there uselessly. Back to her, his grip spread wide on a low branch. He lifted his own weight, raising his chin above the bark in a quick pull-up. His muscles bulged to the point of exploding. Shadows etched in the grooves of his lats, the hollow of his swollen shoulders, the dips of his ass above the waist of his pants. Vail lowered himself and then dropped to the ground in a plank. He eased his bulk to the dirt, pushed-up, bound from the ground, grabbed the tree, and repeated the process.

Despite the ice clinging to the puddle’s edge where she’d rinsed Sophia’s finger with the hose earlier, sweat slid over his taut skin. Steam rose from his body and his exerted pants. She shivered. Vail seemed immune to the chill. Then again, her quake wasn’t exactly due to the weather.

She thought to turn around and go back inside. Damn her boots, but they froze to the wooden deck. She’d never seen a man shirtless. Her brother didn’t count. They were related and he looked nothing like the specimen before her. She wasn’t a prude, but his bare flesh seemed too intimate, too much for her to bear without leering.

The water turned on in the bathroom upstairs. The
whoosh
of its flow through the pipes stopped him cold and he turned, coming up short at the sight of her.

She showed him her empty hands. His sweaty head shook. Droplets of his effort slung gently from his hair. “How is it you sneak up on me? Three times now. No one sneaks up on me. They try.” He heaved a breath and every slab of muscle flexed and never seemed to relax. It took a full minute of silence for her to realize he wasn’t holding his breath or holding himself at full tilt for battle. Those blessed grooves that lined a perfect—Santa María, was that eight—eight pack jammed between obliques worth drooling over.

“What is it, Carmen?”

Her name on his lips nearly toppled her down the three small steps in spite of the agitation suppressed in his tone. She grabbed the railing and made her way to the dirt, struggling to remember why exactly she’d come out in the first place.

Sophia.

At least some part of her fuzz-filled brain operated properly.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted.

“For what exactly?”

Her mouth moved to answer, but he walked forward, short-circuiting her synapses. Closer and closer he came until his chest nearly collided with her shoulder. She caught a gasp between her lips, just barely, as he reached around her to the shirt she hadn’t seen on the opposite railing. He dragged the cotton over his face and chest and then arched a brow, which she missed for a while, staring at the spray of nearly white scars and one vibrant pink ruck of angry skin.

She swallowed. “I’m so sorry for shooting you.”

“I don't blame you.” He stared at her and blotted at the sweat on his arms.

“How is that possible?” The slenderness of her voice translated her disbelief.

“I’d have shot you to save my family.”

“You have a family?” She didn’t know why the thought surprised her. He was a very desirable man. Handsome as red-hot sin. Kind as the Pope. Able as anyone she’d ever seen.

“Had,” he corrected.

Carmen’s heart stuttered and she rubbed at the ache. “I’m sor—”

He stopped her with the smallest shake of his head. He didn’t want her sympathy. Tough. He had it all the same. Though she’d had nightmares about it daily for the last few weeks, she couldn’t fathom loosing Sophia, much less a family. She wondered what happened to them, but wouldn’t ask. It explained the hint of sadness she’d seen in his eye the moment he’d turned on her in the office.

“About earlier. I didn’t mean to rip your head off and eat it for dinner.”

“No?” he asked, with a shifty brow and the barest hint of a smile.

“It’s just… No one has ever shown protectiveness nor possessiveness over Sophia. I’m not used to people helping me or looking out for her.” He reached around her again, grabbed the sweater he had on earlier, and pulled it over his head. Carmen stuck her hands in the pockets of her jacket and looked for stars to keep from staring. “It’s always been the two of us. I love her, care for her, protect her. No one else. I’m greedy. I’ve never had to share her affection.”

“So, you’re not married?”

Her jaw slacked again. “How is that relevant?”

“If you’re married it’s quite relevant.”

“How?”

He stepped closer and his breaths, now slow and easy, tickled her neck. “You’re a smart, capable, devastatingly beautiful woman, Carmen. Figure it out.”