Her Body of Work (14 page)

“So why was she shaking her booty with the brother?” Nico blinked, trying to see out of his rapidly swelling eye.

“The short guy probably has a dick to match. Too bad she can’t get a load of mine.” Chucho’s boast would
have been more impressive if he hadn’t had a pink tropical drink umbrella stuck to his shoulder.

“Forget her. Let’s get out of this damn alley and find Flores’s brother.” Nico strode off, cursing as his boot heel skidded on a banana peel. “The club’s closing. I’ll watch the side exit and you go to the front.”

Chucho sneered. “He’s probably been tucked in bed for hours with that blonde.” He made a grinding motion with his hips.

“Get going!” Nico stared at the side exit, not really expecting to see anyone. The man had probably ducked out the back door as soon as he was spotted.

Minutes passed. Even the musicians had left. Finally the club lights winked off. Nico gave up and went to find his brother.

“Any luck?”

Chucho shook his head. “No. So what do we do now?”

Nico thought hard. “If they took a cab home, maybe we can trace them through the cab companies. That blonde will be hard to miss.”

Chucho groaned. “You know how many cabs were around here? Especially if they caught one a few blocks over?”

Nico slugged his brother in the shoulder. “If you wanna tell the boss we lost him in a salsa club, don’t expect to live too long. A man like that is a shark, and you and I are just the bloody chum.”

M
ARCO BOLTED UPRIGHT IN
bed and snatched his pistol off the nightstand. His heart pounded and his mouth was as dry as if he’d been bobbing on the ocean again.

“Marco, what is it?” Rey’s warm arm came around his waist. She’d fallen asleep in the cab, exhausted by anxiety and several cocktails on an empty stomach.

“I’m all right.” He’d fallen asleep after he’d tucked her in, leaving his pistol within easy reach. He shoved the gun under his pillow just before she turned on a small bedside lamp. The sheets were a twisted mess binding his legs together. “Just a bad dream.”

He wasn’t surprised that he’d dreamed about the raft. Those nightmares always crept up from the dregs of his past when he was under enormous stress.

Rey uncurled herself from the linens, her long hair glowing gold over her creamy breasts. She slipped off the bed and walked naked across the floor. He straightened, pleasantly distracted by the sway of her bottom.

She returned from the bathroom with a water glass. “Drink this. You’ll feel better.”

He was already feeling better seeing her stand in front of him.

“I think we need to talk.” She shrugged into her pink silk robe and knotted the belt around her slender waist.

Hell, no, he didn’t want to talk, but she deserved an explanation after he’d dragged her into his mess. “First let me tell you about how I came to the U.S. It’s all kind of tied in to what happened tonight.”

“You did tell me that. You and your family left Cuba on a terrible little raft and floated to Florida. I can’t even imagine how it must have been.”

“It was even worse than I told you.” He took a deep breath. “My father was a poet and an intellectual. Neither of those kinds of men is welcome in a totalitarian society.”

He felt Rey’s intent stare but didn’t look at her. It was easier to get through his story if he didn’t see what had to be sympathy in her eyes. “My father disguised his political protests in poetry and gained popular support. Our last name, Flores, means ‘flowers.’ Average Cubans who never dared defy the government wore white flowers in their lapels.” He shrugged. “His writings also attracted attention from the wrong people.”

Rey touched his arm. “What happened?” Her voice was low and sorrowful. She obviously knew what was coming next.

“He was fired from the university as unsuitable for the formation of young Cuban minds.” Marco laughed bitterly. “That was a gross understatement. The administration was too stupid to realize that he’d taught the literature of dissent for years. Rousseau, Thoreau, Thomas Paine. Our
mamá
was so proud of him. She knew the dangers but never asked him to deny his belief in a free Cuba.”

“Your mother sounds like an amazing woman. It must have broken her heart to see him go into danger.”

“
Papi
read his poetry at a pro-democracy rally. Police spies arrested my father and took him to the political prison on the Isle of Youth. He died from pneumonia a couple months later. We never saw him again.”

Rey bit her lower lip to stop its trembling. Marco pulled her into his arms. “Hey, don’t cry. I made my peace with it a long time ago.”

“Are you sure?” She rubbed her warm hands along his back. He relaxed slightly into her touch, some anger dissipating.

“
Papi
may have been a university professor, but he wasn’t naive. When he read that poem, he knew he’d wind up in prison or dead. After his arrest, crushed flowers were mysteriously strewn on the streets. His poem is still read at anti-Castro rallies all over Florida.”

“So your mother escaped to Miami with you.”

“Yeah, we were the lucky ones. The Coast Guard found us before we died of dehydration.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” She pressed her fist against her mouth. “But what can that possibly have to do with those men in the club?”

Marco sighed. Now came the difficult part of his story. His eyes were gritty and burning, and he had to piss. “Let me go splash some water on my face. I promise I’ll tell you everything then.”

Rey studied his tired face and nodded. “All right, but don’t plan on sneaking out on me. That bathroom doesn’t even have a window.”

He gave her a weak grin and ran his fingers through his tangled curls. “I don’t have to leave you yet.”

His response made her shiver inside at the thought of letting him go. He trudged into the bathroom and shut the door.

She needed to keep busy while she waited. The bed linens were a mess, the sheets pulled loose and the goose-down duvet half on the floor. She tucked the sheets in and straightened the duvet.

Marco’s pillow was sweaty and twisted from his bad dream. She picked it up for a good fluffing.

“Rey, no!”

Puzzled, she looked up and saw Marco sprinting naked from the bathroom, his feet skidding on one of her area rugs.

“What?” She looked at the bed and saw the weapon. “Oh, my God!” She stumbled, pulling the sheet with her. The gun fell onto the floor and they both cringed.

He snatched it up, checking it expertly.

“At least it’s not loaded, right?” She pushed her hair away from her face. “That’s why it didn’t go off.”

“It’s loaded.” He should have looked ridiculous standing there naked with a gun, but the grim expression on his face drove away her incipient fit of hysterical giggles. “The reason it didn’t go off is the safety was on.”

“A loaded gun? You brought a loaded gun into my home? Into my bed?” She clutched the robe against her, a chill penetrating into her bones that had nothing to do with the room’s temperature.

He quirked an ironic smile. “A gun’s no good if it’s unloaded, Reina. What am I supposed to do, throw it at someone?”

“Why do you even need a gun, Marco?” She froze.
“This is because of those men at the club, isn’t it? What do they want with you?”

“
Querida,
they want me dead.”

“D
EAD
?” T
HE BLOOD DRAINED
from Rey’s face, leaving her naturally pale skin a sickly greenish color. “Those men want to kill you?”

Marco realized he was still naked and brandishing his gun. Careful not to spook her, he tucked the pistol into the nightstand’s top drawer and put on his robe. “Reina.” He sat on the bed and tugged her next to him. She flinched away.

He tried again, taking her cold hand in his. He searched carefully for the right words. If he couldn’t get her to understand, she would never trust him again. Without her trust, they had nothing. And without her he
was
nothing, he realized with a shock. “I left Miami on the run almost three weeks ago.”

“It’s about drugs, isn’t it?” She shot to her feet, pointing a shaking finger at him.

“Yes, but it’s not what you think.”

“Oh, Marco, how could you? You swore to me you weren’t involved in drugs.” Tears spilled down her anguished face. She turned her back to him and hunched over.

“Listen to me, Rey.” He grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him.

“No!” She struggled in his arms. “Get out! Get your things and leave before I call the cops!”

He released her, not wanting to hurt her. “No need to call the cops. I
am
a cop.”

“A cop?” The perfect bow of her upper lip twisted into a sneer. “Why would a cop model in the nude? Won’t that get you into trouble at the station house?”

“Reina, please.” This was turning into his worst nightmare, and all of his own doing. “I’m not in local law enforcement. I’m a sworn agent of the United States Drug Enforcement Agency.”

She laughed. “A fed. I think I saw this episode before on
Miami Vice
reruns. Where are your white sports coat and sockless loafers?”

“I had to wear expensive Italian suits with hand-tooled leather shoes. The short guys wore cowboy boots with four-inch heels.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Let’s say all of this is true. What are you doing in Chicago modeling nude for me?”

“Having the time of my life.”

“Marco, I’m serious,” she chided.

“I am, too.” He tried to gather her in his arms, but she neatly sidestepped him. He heaved a sigh and continued. “I volunteered to infiltrate a Cuban-based drug smuggling operation because I was native-born, knew the island and had the right accent. After a year of undercover work, we had enough evidence to go to trial. If I can’t testify next week, the charges will be reduced or dismissed.”

“Can’t you show me a badge or something to prove who you are?”

He was already shaking his head. “I left all of my IDs
in Miami. I couldn’t risk calling attention to myself in the metal detectors at airport security with a DEA badge.”

“But you smuggled a gun through?”

“I bought it here from a gun dealer who wasn’t picky about ID or registration.”

“Don’t you know it’s illegal to own a handgun in Chicago?”

He laughed. “Getting caught with a pistol is the least of my concerns. The only reason I came to Chicago was to get my brother Francisco to safety, somewhere where it would be harder to find him. I came prepared to convince, bribe or kidnap him to get out of town, but the only way he left was when I promised to take his place with you.”

“And your mother is on her honeymoon.” She thought for a minute. “About your father and sailing over on a raft. That wasn’t just a story, was it?” Her eyes were pleading with him.

He clenched his hands. “God, no. It’s the reason I took the assignment. Look, come sit here next to me.”

She hesitated, fussing with the lapels of her robe. “I don’t know, Marco. This sounds very far-fetched.”

“We only met a few weeks ago, but you know me, Reina.”

She stopped fiddling with the knot at her waist and stared at him.
Did
she know him? His hawklike hazel eyes watched her guardedly. He’d never shown any intent to harm her. In fact, he even roughed up Stefan a bit for her. But did that make him a thug or a cop?

“Oh, all right.” She plopped down beside him on the bed. “Start from the beginning.”

“I didn’t tell you everything about our raft trip. My mother paid a man called
El Lobo,
the wolf, to take us to Miami on his raft. Once we were at sea, he made advances to my mother.” He swallowed hard. “That man sliced Francisco’s leg bloody and threatened to throw him to the sharks if
Mamá
didn’t do what he wanted. I tried to fight him, but he punched me in the face and knocked me cold for a few minutes.”

“Your poor mother.” Rey bit her lip, remembering how scared she had been at first when Stefan had threatened her in the Art Institute. “All alone on the ocean with no one to come to her rescue.”

“No one but me, a skinny twelve-year-old. I staggered to my feet. He was kissing and groping my mother while my brother whimpered. I bashed him in the head with an oar. We tied him up with duct tape we’d used for patching the raft.” His hands made fists on his thighs.

She grabbed his left hand. He turned to look at her, his eyes dark with old memories. “You saved her, Marco.”

“No. She saved us, my brother and me. She was willing to do anything to keep us alive. And now I repay her by getting twisted up in
El Lobo
’s sick machinations.” He managed a dry laugh. “If he doesn’t get me, my mother will. I can just hear her now. ‘I didn’t take you out of Cuba for you to go back there and get into trouble.’”

“Your mother supported your father when he confronted evil, and she’ll support you, too.”

Marco stared straight ahead, lost in his memories. “That man
is
pure evil. I saw it in his eyes when I was just a child and saw it again years later. He regained con
sciousness right before the Coast Guard found us. The hate shining from his yellow eyes was chilling. He was deported to Cuba, years later emerging as the head of a Caribbean drug-smuggling ring. He’s got connections to the Colombian cartels. His real name is Juan Carlos Rodríguez, and he’s the man I have to testify against.”

Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, my God. How did he even learn about your investigation?”

He shook his head. “Over a year’s work, thirteen months living with those
animales,
thinking like them…one day it all fell apart. We had all the evidence we needed, but we got greedy and wanted a little more just to make sure Rodríguez would never see the light of day again.

“Except my cover got blown. He’d paid enough drugs or money to someone at DEA to find out who I really was. And with his money, with his connections, it didn’t take long before he found my mother and my brother.”

He clutched her hand, his words coming out painfully. “Reina, what have I done? To fight crime I became like a criminal. For what? Vengeance? When my family discovers what I did, I will lose their trust. Just like I have lost yours.”

“And this whole story is true.” It was a statement more than a question. “Hiding at the salsa club, you carrying this gun. You really are a federal agent.”

“I swear on the soul of my father.” He clasped her hand to his heart.

As soon as he said that, a weight lifted off her. “Since we’re revealing our deepest secrets, I guess I’ll have to reciprocate.”

He watched her warily, his fingers tight around hers.

She took a deep breath. “Even before you told me the truth I fell in love with you.” She’d never told any man that before, not even in her infatuated youth.

“Do you—” He stopped to clear his throat. “Do you still feel the same way?” His gaze was molten gold, burning her until heat pooled between her thighs.

“Of course.” She slipped her hand inside the deep V of his robe, his heart pounding under her fingertips.

“Oh, thank God.” He swept her into his arms, murmuring long, sexy streams of Spanish as he feathered kisses on her closed eyelids, cheeks and jaw. She relaxed into his embrace, kissing him eagerly before shoving him away.

“Whatever you told me sounded very pretty, but I didn’t understand a word. If you have something you want me to know, tell me in English.” Her stomach clenched in nervous anticipation.

“I was speaking Spanish?” He laughed. “I always do when I’m excited.”

“So?” she demanded.

“What I was saying is that I’ll love you forever and never want to be without you.” He lifted her off his lap and went down on one knee in front of her. Rey covered her gasp with her fist.

His face was serious as he took her hand. “Until I take the witness stand, I’m not free to ask you for anything, Reina.”

“What do you mean?”

“If something happens to me, I don’t want to leave you behind to grieve.”

“You stupid man.” She shoved him with her free hand, toppling him onto his ass.

“If you want me naked, all you have to do is ask,” he joked, adjusting his robe where it had flown open, revealing his thighs and crotch.

“Do you think I wouldn’t grieve for you, cry for you, miss you forever just because you won’t ask me for a commitment?” She was gulping in deep breaths, trying to keep from screaming her pain and frustration.

He sat next to her on the chaise. “Not just a commitment. Marriage.”

“Marriage?” She gaped at him. The M-word hadn’t even crept across her subconscious, but now it was the perfect idea. “But you can’t ask me now?” She was dying to say yes.

“Reina, please.” He placed his hand over hers. “A man does not make commitments and put himself into danger.”

“Like your father?”

He sighed and twined his fingers between hers. “Yes. He did the right thing but at a terrible cost to all of us. I won’t do that to you.”

She smoothed her palm over his tight jaw, the tiny black hairs tickling her. “I understand. I’m willing to wait as long as I know what’s in your heart.” She feathered kisses across his cheek.

He captured her mouth with his and pulled her onto the soft pillows. He opened the silken lapels of her robe so his hands covered her breasts.

She was just as eager, shoving his robe off his shoulders. He tossed the heavy terry cloth away, diving onto her.

“I promise, I’ll return to you.” He nudged her knees apart and rubbed his hair-roughened thigh against the swollen folds of her sex, his penis fitting into the groove where her leg met her hip.

“I want you inside me.” She twisted against him, wanting more, wanting him to fill her.

“I can’t,” he rasped, a bead of sweat trailing down his temple. “I used the last condom in the box.”

She drew in a shaky breath. “Without one.”

His pupils dilated until only a narrow amber rim showed. “I shouldn’t, but…” He moaned as she cupped his penis and rubbed the bare head against her clit, the silver bead at the tip mingling with her own juices. She grew bolder and shifted her hips so his hot, pulsing flesh teased at the entrance to her wet passage. “Oh, God, that’s so good.” He jerked against her, almost slipping inside.

She’d never even considered making love without protection before, but she trusted Marco. “I’m healthy and on the Pill.”

“I had a full physical and blood tests before I went into protective custody. Everything came back clean.”

“Do it. Give me your bare cock inside me.”

He succumbed to her enticement and slid into her with a gasp. He was scorching hot inside her. The thick ridge around the head of his penis rubbed every inch of her as he moved in and withdrew slowly. The satiny skin of his shaft stretched her until she spasmed around him, a mini orgasm that only gave her a tiny taste of what he would do to her.

Marco gritted his teeth. “You feel so good, I can hardly stand it.” Her wet, hot vagina clenched around him. Making love with his beautiful Reina was always incredible, but this was phenomenal.

He rocked against her as she clutched his shoulders and wrapped her long, strong legs around his waist, pulling him deeper until his cock was buried to the hilt.

The pink robe framed her breasts like a work of art, the color matching her tight nipples. He sucked on one perfect peak as it elongated and swelled under his tongue. He ran his tongue around the rim of her areola, almost coming at the memory of her licking her own nipples.

Since he wasn’t ready to give up the mind-blowing pleasure of his bare flesh inside hers, he released her breast, admiring how rosy-red and engorged the tip had turned. Rey made little mewling sounds, tossing her golden hair and caressing his butt. He bent to the other breast, giving it the same loving attention until she surprised him.

He threw his head back as her cool fingers stroked and squeezed his balls.

“More,” she whispered huskily. “Move inside me.” He obliged and reached between them, flicking her clit until she moaned. He increased the pace of his thrusts, her tight, wet sheath squeezing his penis from head to base.

He knew he couldn’t last much longer, was surprised he’d lasted as long as he had. All the while she cupped his balls, rubbing the rough flesh behind them as she matched his rhythm, grinding her hips into his.

She stiffened against him, her heels digging into his calves. “Oh, Marco, I’m coming.” Her words trailed off in a gasp as her inner muscles tightened on him, an erotic flush creeping up her breasts. Her fingers tightened almost painfully on his sac as she came, sending him over the edge with her. He slammed into her, his hot seed bursting free for the first time in his life to mingle with her own juices and lubricate his frantic thrusts.

He finally slowed to a stop but stayed inside her for long minutes, not ever wanting to leave.

Rey lay in his embrace, his heart beating against hers. “That was amazing.”

“I never knew it could be that way.” He rolled over and cradled her head on his shoulders. “Someday we’ll make love without any kind of protection.”

“We just did.” She twirled his chest hair around her fingers, glad he hadn’t taken her silly suggestion to shave it off.

“Without
any
protection,” he emphasized, “for me or for you.”

“Oh.” She looked up into his loving gaze and he nodded.

“I want to take you to Miami to meet my mother, play Cuban cabana boy on her pool furniture and ask you to marry me.”