His Kind of Trouble (9 page)

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Authors: Samantha Hunter

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary Romance

BOOK: His Kind of Trouble
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Her mother’s eyes filled and she started rattling off so much so fast in Spanish that Chance looked totally bemused. Ana laughed, enveloping her mother in a hug.

“Mama, you will have plenty to say. It will be
our
book—mine, yours and Mama Paula’s, because I could never have done any of this without you,” Ana said, feeling her own eyes burn.

Ana was glad to have her mother thinking about something other than her and Chance, and she smiled as she caught his attention.

He smiled and winked in her direction, making her heart melt. Had he heard her say they had nothing serious? She could only assume he was okay with that. They’d known each other for only forty-eight hours, and not even that. How could they have anything else?

Though in some ways, they knew each other very well. He knew just how to touch her to send her pulse skyrocketing and how to kiss her so exquisitely like no man ever had. He knew she wasn’t completely happy with her current job and that she wanted to go back to simpler things. He knew she didn’t like being watched or controlled, and he knew how to make her heart beat faster with only a look.

The moment was broken when the kitchen suddenly was full of voices as her cousins and then...Marco walked in.

* * *

C
HANCE
STEPPED
AWAY
FROM
the counter, watching Marco carefully. The big man had a bruised eye, almost closed, and Chance hardly remembered getting the punch in.

Marco met his gaze and stiffened, his back straight, clearly tense.

“Doncia, Ana,” he said. “Mr. Berringer.”

Chance nodded in his direction but made it clear that he was ready for another go around if it was needed.

“I’m glad to catch you all here, in one place. I came to apologize for my behavior in your home,” he said to Doncia, with a slight bow, a downward look and then to Ana, “and to you and your guest. How I behaved was unacceptable, under any circumstances, even considering my surprise at Ana’s rejection,” he said, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment.

Chance actually felt bad for the guy.

Ana rose from her seat at the table and took both of Marco’s hands in hers. “Marco, I didn’t reject you. You are a wonderful man, but we were never meant to be together. We never have been together. So there can be no rejection, right? You are always welcome here, and a part of our family, no matter what.”

Marco’s face softened a bit as he looked down at Ana.


Gracias,
Ana. That is very gracious of you.”

“She says what we all feel, Marco. Come have some breakfast,” Doncia said, and Chance smiled at the easy forgiveness, the genuine warmth. These were good people. All of them, even Marco.

As things relaxed, he stepped forward, putting his hand out.

“For what it’s worth, you have some pretty slick moves in a fight,” Chance said, wincing as he touched his sore cheek with his other hand and smiling as Marco took his hand in a firm shake.

“You, as well. I haven’t let anyone blacken my eye since I was seven years old,” Marco said with grudging respect.

“You learned to fight like that just, you know, around?” Chance asked, but he was also fishing.

“Somewhat. I was also in the Mexican police force for years, and the military. I retired to help my family with the business and to focus on my life here as my parents got older,” he said.

“And to help after Papa died,” Ana added, gratitude evident in her tone.

“Happily. José was a close friend of my father’s, like a brother. We are all family,” he affirmed.

Doncia announced that the food was done, and what appeared to be the second breakfast of the morning was served. Chance was grateful—he was starving.

He’d woken up early, tempted to wake Ana, as well, but he also wanted to take advantage of the early hour to go check out the town, and did so under the guise of taking an early-morning run. Doncia had been up cooking then, too, for the members of the family who were heading out to work early.

Right now, the tension with Marco settled, Chance was thankful for the chaos around him; it kept him from thinking too much about what he’d heard Ana say as he arrived in the kitchen, and how she had avoided his gaze. She was clearly uncomfortable. He supposed it was only natural, given that she was among her family.

Even so, he couldn’t look at her without remembering how she tasted, how soft she was and how she had exploded around him. She was right. They had a moment, a night—an experience that hopefully would be repeated—but it wasn’t more than that.

Not serious at all.

What he hadn’t told her, and wasn’t sure how to understand for himself, was the red-hot rage he’d felt when Marco had advanced on her when she told him she wasn’t going to marry him. If Marco had touched her at all—seeing him kiss her had been bad enough—Chance wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have done more than blacken the man’s eye.

Chance had been jealous once or twice before but never like that. Never to the point where he wanted to punch someone’s lights out. He told himself it was because she was his responsibility. Her life was literally in his hands.

Suddenly, he wasn’t sure this job had been a good choice. Maybe he was too raw from the experience with Logan and should have just taken some downtime.

Too late now.

“Chance, what were you hoping to do on your vacation while you are here?”

He was vaguely aware someone had spoken to him, the background of chatter and breakfast falling away as he’d been caught up in his thoughts.

When he snapped to, he realized all eyes were on him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “What was that?”

“I was just wondering what you were hoping to do, if you needed any suggestions, for what there is to do here while you are visiting,” Marco said.

“Oh. Well, I thought I would find some beaches, maybe do some diving, if there are opportunities for that. Maybe spend some time in the jungle—I’ve never had a chance to do that as much as I’d like to.”

Not for fun, anyway. He’d been on protective duty in Ecuador once, guarding a politician’s family from an assassination attempt, and that had been dicey. Not exactly a relaxed way to enjoy the local flora and fauna.

“I could take you out, for a tour, perhaps, or some hunting,” Marco said.

Chance tried to find the best way to decline; he didn’t intend on leaving Ana’s side, and he certainly wasn’t going out into the jungle with Marco.

“We’ll see. Today, I think I might just—”

“I know of a good swimming and diving spot nearby, if you are interested,” Ana interrupted, saving him. “We can go there. And then there is the holiday to prepare for.”

“That sounds great. What do you do for your holiday?”

“Much the same as most countries—parties, food, fireworks to bring in the New Year.”

“Though some of the old traditions are fun, too,” Lucia said, smiling. At Marco.

Until Lucia caught herself and then looked away. Chance didn’t know if anyone else had caught her expression, but he had.

Huh.

“Like what?” Chance asked.

“It’s very festive here. New Year’s is like the start of the holiday week, instead of the end. Most do not open their gifts from Christmas and celebrate until Epiphany on January sixth. The party here includes the entire village—everyone meets in the main street, and we celebrate and fireworks are set off over the water. But there are small local and family traditions, as well. Like finding the coin in the
pan dulce
or wearing undergarments in the color that reflects what you would like to happen in the New Year,” Ana explained with a grin.

“Excuse me—you mean, underwear?”

Everyone laughed, and Chance wasn’t sure he’d heard right.
“Sí,”
Doncia confirmed. “If you need money, for instance, you could wear green boxers, or if you want love and passion, something red. Or you may eat, or be fed by a lover, twelve grapes. One for every month of the New Year, sweet grapes being a good sign, sour ones, well, not so good. But all of our grapes are sweet here,” she promised with a smile.

Chance chuckled. “Wow. At home, we usually get some beer, pizza and wings, and all watch the New York City ball drop, then watch movies all night. That’s about it.”

“Some people also have ceremonial fires and burn old objects or paper they write certain things on, or they throw buckets of water out of their windows for renewal, a kind of symbolic tossing out. Sometimes they wait for passersby, just for fun,” Lucia added, again looking at Marco, laughing. “Remember that time...”

Marco and Ana laughed, too, as they all reminisced about some previous New Year’s celebrations. Chance sat back, listening and enjoying Ana’s laugh.

As they all chatted, he could only wonder what color underwear Ana might wear New Year’s Eve and if he would get to find out.

8

L
UCIA
P
EREZ
WAS
BOTH
ELATED
and utterly miserable as she watched Marco talk to her mother, smiling, delivering a kiss on her forehead before leaving the kitchen. He was so handsome that her heart hurt just by looking at him.

His lips had been on hers last night, and it felt as if she had dreamed the entire night. Marco hadn’t taken Ana’s rejection well, and Lucia had sat and consoled him. Then she had consoled him further, up in her room. He’d been gone when she woke up and hadn’t so much as shared a glance with her that indicated he was thinking about what had happened between them the night before.

Maybe she had dreamed it. But no. She still felt the wonderful ache in her limbs and in between her thighs that came with being made love to by a powerful man like Marco.

She treasured it. Lucia had loved him since she was a girl—sixteen to Ana’s twelve, she’d been heartbroken when her father had engaged Ana to him, and then again when she’d made a pass at Marco a few years later, throwing caution to the wind.

He’d rejected her, and she’d left to work in the jungles and small villages of Central America.

She thought when she’d come home that it would have gone away, that she would have grown out of her desire for Marco.

But she’d been relieved when Ana said she wasn’t marrying him, and thrilled by his response to her last night.

Pushing up from the table, she couldn’t just let him leave. She wanted to see his face in the daylight, to acknowledge what had happened between them, at least for a moment, before he left.

“Marco, wait,” she called from the doorway, catching him before he reached his truck.

He did wait, but she saw his back stiffen, and he turned around, but looked so serious.

“You left this morning without so much as a goodbye,” she said softly, reaching out to touch his chest lightly with her forefinger. He stepped back slightly, looking past her shoulder.

“Lucia, someone might wonder,” he cautioned, and she laughed forcefully to cover the pain his withdrawl caused.

“Wonder at what? Two old friends talking?” she asked but was unable to keep the edge from her tone.

“Lucia, last night...”

“I know,” she said, looking down to garner the courage. “I’m not a fool. I know you only came to me because you were hurt by Ana, and I know you want her and not me.”

“It’s not that. I did want you, in case you couldn’t tell,” he said, his face warming, if only slightly.

Just enough to give her hope.

“I didn’t care if you were thinking of her,” Lucia said, her cheeks burning at the admission. “Maybe in time, you could grow to love me.”

The question hung between them, and Marco blew out a breath.

“Lucia, I don’t love Ana, and I wasn’t hurt by her. I was...upset because I need to be here. Stay close. And her rejection makes that impossible,” he said, dragging a hand over his face, sounding as if every word was being torn from him. “As for learning to love you, I think that’s a lesson that would come easily. But this is not the time, not the place. I’m not sure there ever will be, either.”

Lucia shook her head. “What are you talking about? You’re not making any sense. I don’t understand. Wouldn’t your family be as happy to have me as her? Is that your worry?”

His eyes burned down into hers, and for one unguarded moment, she saw the desire in his face, the unvarnished need. For her.

Her heart couldn’t take it.

“Tell your mother you’re going to the store, and I will give you a ride,” he said.

Still confused, she nodded, willing to go anywhere with him. She ran to the house, moving quickly, afraid that he might actually leave before she returned. But no, he waited, sitting in his truck as she climbed up beside him.

“What’s that?” he asked, looking at the paper she held.

“She gave me a list,” Lucia said, smiling. “So I guess I really do need to go to the store. But why did you want me to tell her that?”

“I need to talk to you where no one else will hear us,” he said mysteriously as the truck rumbled down the main road, then he took a quick left down an old jungle trail that she knew led to a deserted beach. They’d often played there as children. It was too off the beaten path for tourists, and no one would be there at this time of the morning.

Coming to a break in the trees, the crystal green-blue waters stretched out before them, and Marco cut the engine.

“Let’s walk.”

Sliding from the truck, Lucia fell into step at his side, taking in the beautiful view. She’d seen many like it through her entire life, but she never tired of it. She’d visited Ana once, in the States, and it was exciting, but she had been happy to come back to Mexico. This was her home.

“Marco, what is this all about?”

Away from the truck, shaded by tall palms and rain-forest trees, Marco didn’t say a word but pulled her into his arms and captured her mouth with a passion that left her breathless.

When he pulled away, he had her face framed in his hands, his eyes steady on hers, though his voice trembled slightly, as moved by the passion between them as she was.

“Do you remember when you came to me when you were eighteen? When you wanted me to make love to you? To be your first?”

Her face burned under his hands, and she nodded. She wanted to look away, that rejection still smarting, but he held her fast.

“I wanted nothing more. I wanted to take you that night and make you mine for the nights afterward. When you left...it was good, and it was terrible,”
he said.

The words shocked her, and thrilled her. And confused her.

“Then why... I don’t understand,” Lucia said, pulling away, unsure how to read all of the mixed messages he was sending her way. Was he just trying to make her believe that all of these years he had really wanted her?

“At the time, I was young, too, and I took my family’s promise seriously. I felt like I could not be with you without shaming them,” he said, shaking his head. “Such outdated, old customs. Even my grandfather laughs about it now, though it’s not really funny, because it cost me you.”

Lucia looked at him, stunned. “Wait—Marco, what are you saying? That your grandfather no longer holds you to your father’s promise? So why all of this, last night, with Ana, your message?”

He took a deep breath, looked out to sea, away from her. Lucia’s heart thudded hard in her chest.

“I had no intention of marrying Ana. But...I needed to be around her, to stay close. Closer than a friend of the family would be allowed to stay.”

“Why?”

His face changed, becoming serious, the light in his eyes flattening in a way that sent a shiver down her spine.

“No one knows this,
cara.
If I tell you, you literally would hold my life in your hands, and this puts you in danger, as well.”

“Tell me, Marco.”

“When you left, back then, I thought it would be easier, but it wasn’t. So I had to leave, too. I joined the local police, as you know,” he said.

“And then quit when you went back to helping your family with the farm and the store.”

“In a way. I quit because I was asked to join
los
federales
and to work undercover.”

Her brow furrowed deeply. “You worked for the PF?”

There had never been a word about Marco working for
policias federales.
Of course, Lucia hadn’t been home much and didn’t always know what was happening here.

“I work for them now. In fact, I have worked for them since I turned twenty-six. Seven long years of lying to everyone I know, since my work has always been undercover, unknown to anyone but my team and a few in the organization who monitor us and our assignments. We infiltrate cartels, local crime organizations, set up business arrangements with them, gather information. Every now and then, we get to take one of them down.”

Lucia’s mind spun. How was it possible Marco had managed to have everyone think he simply managed his family business, when he was really an undercover agent?

“No one knows, Lucia. No one. Just you now, and that’s breaking every rule I live by, but I couldn’t let you think that last night I was just using you. It was...impossible for me to say no to the woman I had dreamed about for years.”

“Okay,” she said, trying to process everything he was saying, but falling short. “But what does this have to do with Ana?”

“There have been some specific threats against her.”

Lucia nodded. “Kidnapping? But they have done that ever since she has become famous. Nothing comes of it.”

“This is different. She’s funneled so much money into the villages, funded the efforts to help local people undermine the organization’s influence in the local villages—and her wealth is growing. She’s inspired people, and they can’t allow that. Many of these villages block the paths to the coast, to the shipping routes. They think she’s a danger. The threat is real, and it’s worse than kidnapping.”

Lucia felt her stomach sink, her romantic worries set aside for now. “Ana is in serious danger?”

“As serious as it gets. They don’t want to kidnap her—they want her dead. I don’t know that her pretty bodyguard is up to the task of keeping her safe,” he said, frowning. “I need to get close to her and stay that way until we can find out who it is and eliminate the threat. And get her back in the States.”

“Bodyguard? Who?” Had she stepped through the looking glass? Nothing was real or clear anymore.

“Chance. He’s not a friend from the States. Ana’s TV bosses were countering a threat there, as well. Someone was harassing Ana, and Berringer was hired to watch over her until she’s back to work. He’s adequate—he and his brothers have a good reputation—but he’s one man, and he has no idea of what he’s up against. He’s also distracted. He just let me walk out of the airport with her, and then, from his reaction to my overtures, I can only think that they are lovers, as well. He lost his temper with me, and that exposes both of them.”

“Chance is a bodyguard,” Lucia repeated under her breath, absorbing it all. “I can’t believe this. So you were willing to lead Ana along, that you would marry her, to remain near her so that you could protect her?”

Marco nodded. “You have to understand,
corazon,
I’ve done unsavory things in the course of my assignments. Many things that would make you realize I’m not the honorable man you think I am. I would have done whatever I needed to in order protect Ana, to make sure no one got to her.”

Lucia understood exactly what he was saying—he would have slept with her sister, as well as promising to marry her, and anything else he needed to do. God knew what else he had done. They all knew the stories, and she’d seen up close what corruption and drug running had done to their country. Lucia knew it was a war, and the men and women fighting that war were asked, sometimes, to do anything, including laying their lives on the line.

Marco was one of them. Like her, fighting to save their country, though in a different way. Her heart swelled with respect, admiration and more love than she would have thought possible.

“Oh, Marco,” she said, holding him close. “You are the man I always thought you were, and more.”

He stiffened in her embrace and then seemed to collapse into her, his arms coming around her with bruising intensity, burying his face in her hair.

“You are so beautiful. Perfect,” he said against her neck, making her soar with need. “You know I kept tabs on you, too, as much as I could. Made sure that you were out of the path of danger. I knew what happened in Cartegena, and it scared the life out of me,” he whispered as he kissed her lips, her jaw. “You cannot go back there.”

Lucia thrilled that he cared, that he had watched over her through the years. She was also deeply sad—how much they had wasted.

Now was the time to make up for it, she thought, catching his lips with her own, teasing his tongue and drawing him deeper into her. For several long moments, all that existed were their hands, mouths and the sound of the waves crashing around them.

“Marco, let me help,” she said against his lips.

“What do you mean?”

“You need to stay close to Ana, but she is with Chance. So...use me. Tell them I have accepted your proposal, and by being engaged to me, you can stay closer to her. And I can keep an eye out, as well, let you know if anything happens or is not right.”

Marco grimaced. “No. Just telling you what I have jeopardizes you. I will not do that anymore. You cannot tell anyone what you know, and I cannot use you to do my job. I just...cannot,” he said, his eyes on her, revealing the depth of his conflict.

“You can,” she said, feeling solid and sure. More so than she had in a while. “Ana is my sister. I want her safe. And I want to be with you. This can work.”

“You don’t understand, Lucia. When this is over, when Ana is safe and she returns to the States, I will go back to my work. I work with very dangerous people. I cannot afford to ever have them know about the people I love. They would use any of you to get to me, and that means I cannot be with you. Not the way I would want to. Maybe someday, but not now. Maybe not ever.”

Lucia felt his pain as her own, and while it hurt, what he was saying, knowing he felt it, too, made it more tolerable.

“I understand, Marco. But if we can have just this, now, this fantasy, why not? It will hurt to part later, but it will hurt to part now, too. And then, maybe someday, when you are done with your work... I will wait for you.”

The raw emotion in his face nearly made her knees give out, but Lucia meant every word that she said. She wanted to be with Marco more than she wanted her next breath. If she could have him now, and help keep her sister safe in the process, then she could live with whatever came later.

“If you are sure, Lucia. If you are sure,” he said, weakening, his hands on her, slipping under the material of her loose shift, making her heart slam against her ribs, her bones melt with wanting.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life,” she said, giving herself up to him and losing herself in their embrace since it was likely all that they would have.

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