Intimate Enemies (17 page)

“If you haven’t noticed, Caesar isn’t the most cooperative guy.”

“Their fumble had Fermin grilling Cassie about being with Caesar yesterday. Now Fermin’s threatening Saul to keep her in line or he’ll take her out. And Saul’s solution is to have me seduce her and keep her
preoccupied
, for fuck’s sake. I swear this feels like it’s going to blow up in my face.”

Silence extended over the line. Rio was about to pull the phone away and look at the display to see if he’d lost the call when Tomás said, “That’s actually not a half-bad idea.”

Rio covered his face. “Jesus Christ.”

“Think about it man.” Tomás’s voice lowered as it did when they were together and they put their heads down to talk privately. “What are the alternatives if you
don’t
? She’ll keep doing what she’s doing and could not only get herself killed but get you killed. Screw that, dude. Get with her, man. It’s not like a fucking hardship. I’d take on the job myself if I— Hey, maybe I could. Doesn’t really matter
who
distracts her, right? As long as she’s distracted. If you really don’t want the job, brother, I’ll take one for the team here. I’ll just set up a fake chance meeting, do my charmer thing—”

“Tomás.” Rio pulled at his hair. “This isn’t funny.”

“Who’s laughing?” Indeed, Tomás’ voice was coolly serious. “She’s seriously hot. I’d make the effort even if it was a stupid plan—and it’s not. It’s a valid option to keep her safe, keep your cover intact, and keep the whole mission secure until those tangos get here. We only need a week, two at the most to tie everything up, close this thing down.”

Two weeks of having Cassie in his bed? In the name of national security? A wave of lusty need expanded in the pit of his stomach and slid lower. It was so wrong…and so right…and
fuck
. Rio was so screwed.

“I’ll call K,” Tomás continued, “but he’s already said no fucking way. We’re in too tight. You’re going to have to find a way to deal with her, man. And I know you’re used to having the babes drop in your lap, but it wouldn’t hurt you to actually have to work at it for once.”

Rio pinched the bridge of his nose. “The best thing for everyone would be to get her out of here. When you call K, tell him that information on her didn’t come over the wire last night.”

He disconnected with a fresh sense of chaos kicking along his nerves and an extra dose of lust rushing his system. He glanced around the building edge and found Cassie with her sunglasses resting on top of her head and her hands cupped against the glass as she peered into the space.

“Un-fucking-believable,” he muttered.

This escapade would get back to Saul before Rio returned to the estate. The phone lines were probably already burning. He definitely had to nip this budding detective. The sooner the better.

Cassie was still peeking into the space when Rio stopped next to her. He pulled in the tantalizingly sweet scent of roses floating on the air and planted one hand against the glass by her head. “What are you up to?”

She jumped and backed away, her eyes stretched wide with shock. Those eyes of hers were beautiful—deep amber swimming with black flecks, like tortoiseshell, lined with thick lashes so long they made him want to feel them on his lips.

Once she’d fully focused on his face, she let out a long breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were molten. And tired. “Dammit, Rio. Don’t do that.”

“If you didn’t have your pretty little nose pressed against the glass like this was a candy store, you would have heard me.” Though something about the fatigued slump to her shoulders made him think she might not need such a heavy hand today, he lowered his voice in warning anyway. Better safe than sorry. “What part of death wish didn’t you understand? Look around you, Cassie.”

But she didn’t look around. She stared at him. Arms crossed, head tilted. “Just who are you?
What
are you? I was up all night trying to figure you out.”

He really didn’t need to know she’d been awake last night thinking of him. “What the
hell
are you
talking
about?”

“You send so many mixed messages you’re like a little cyclone. Nothing about you makes sense. Nothing about what you do makes sense. How you act with Saul. How you act with me. How you act with Saul in front of me or me in front of Saul. You lie half the time, tell half-truths the rest.”

He grasped his forehead between his fingers. “You’re making my head hurt, babe.”

She sighed. Her frown of concern looked sincere. “I’m not surprised.” She reached toward his face, and Rio braced for a slap. But she took his jaw in her hand and squeezed gently. “You do realize this level of constant stress will eventually make you sick, don’t you?” Her hand slid down to his neck, warm and gentle. “I can personally attest to that. And studies show it shortens your lifespan. You’re so…vital. Healthy, young, smart, articulate. I hate knowing Saul will slowly suck all that life out of you. I hate, even more, knowing you’d let him.”

God. She was serious. She was worried about him. No games. No challenge. And Rio found himself speechless. He wanted to pull her into him, wrap her close, press his face to her hair and breathe her in.

Her hand had moved to his shoulder, and strong fingers rubbed at a knot at the base of his neck. Muscles there went liquid, and he moaned as the tension drained.

“Why don’t you have a girlfriend?” she asked.

His brain returned from the easy haze she’d put him in. “Work doesn’t really—”

“Where does your family live?”

“Not nearby.”

“Who are your friends?” Her hand slipped beneath the collar of his tee, fingers slid farther down his shoulder and found another knot. Rio fought another groan. “Who’s close to you? You need someone to lean on too, Rio. Everyone needs someone. No matter how tough we think we are, underneath the cover, we’re all just human.”

He opened his eyes. Hadn’t realized they’d closed. He wasn’t sure if it was the soft, sincere, melodic tone of her voice or her words, but he felt hypnotized. She took a step closer. Those magical fingers ran up the back of his neck, sank in at the base of his hairline and kneaded.

“God damn,” he murmured as tension slid out of his neck and the low throb in his head dimmed. He released his muscles into the pressure and tilted his head forward. “I didn’t even know I hurt until you touched me.”

“That’s kind of how it is. You don’t realize how much you want or need something until you get what you’ve been missing. Then you wonder how you’ve lived without it for so long. How you’ve let yourself go on for so long in such an unhealthy way. I want to change that in my life. What about you, Rio? What do you want for your life?”

All the tension she’d release swept back in. What
did
he want?

“Sacrifice a lot for this gig, though, you know?”

Tomás’s words dug deeper, joined with Cassie’s, and gnawed at Rio. He didn’t know what he wanted, because he’d never taken the time to think about it.

He lifted his head and looked at Cassie. She met his gaze expectantly, waiting for his answer. He reached out, cupped her face, ran his thumbs over the soft skin of her cheeks. “Who are you, and what have you done with Cassie Christo?”

Instead of the insolent, pinched expression he expected to get, Cassie grinned. Then laughed. Her whole face relaxed, brightened. And Rio’s heart squeezed with affection.

Her hand slipped away, and with it, her warmth. He craved it again immediately but kept himself for reaching for her. Even though he could. Even though he had an excuse. Even though he was expected to.

“This is the real Cassie Christo. With my bad side too exhausted to take up the fight this morning, I guess.”

“You are so confusing,” he murmured, and when her expression sharpened, he added, “In a sort of maddeningly charming way.”

“I don’t think I’m as confusing as you are confused.” She turned and walked away from him, back in the direction of the clinic. “Have you ever been diagnosed with schizophrenia?”

He laughed. Knew he laughed a lot more when he was with her. Which made him realize that was one of those things he’d gone too long without in his life.

“No schizophrenia,” he said, “but I think you’re driving me that direction.”

They were halfway down the block before he’d cleared his head, just as they passed another threesome of
Muertos
.

“Hey, Rio.” One low, throaty voice drifted from their perch on the ledge of a windowsill. “Where’d she come from?”

A fierce surge of protectiveness tightened Rio’s body. “Mind your own, Paco,” he said without looking back.

A few yards down the street, Cassie said, “They know you by name. There’s a nice character reference.”

Then she abruptly turned into a bakery. Rio was three feet past before he could stop and turn back. He followed her inside and found her picking out donuts.

She glanced over her shoulder. “Want one?”

His gaze skimmed her backside. His mouth watered. One would never be enough. “I want a lot of things I shouldn’t have.”

“I’ll take that as a no.” She paid, thanked the owner, and started down the street again, pulling an old-fashioned glazed from her little bag. She broke off a piece, popped it in her mouth, then offered some to Rio. “One of my favorites. Come on, schizo boy. Live a little.”

He grinned at both the schizo-boy dig and how her snarky side had already returned. “If I start, I’ll never stop.”

A sly, sexy smile tilted one side of that beautiful mouth just before she ate the offered piece. “Good to know.”

They passed the cross street to the clinic, and Rio asked, “Where are you going now?”

“Amigos.”

He lifted one brow. “Need a little tequila to wash that down?”

“Coffee.”

“You could have gotten coffee—” He shook his head. “Never mind. Listen, I’ve got an unbeatable deal for you.”

She snorted out a “yeah right” laugh.

“If I get to work at the clinic,” he said, “you get the pleasure of bossing me around all day.”

She laughed again, but this time, it sounded with a clear ring of delight, which did crazy things to his body. “Now that sounds appealing.”

He held the door of Amigos open for her, hoping she’d go for this. If he stayed close to her, he could make sure she stayed out of trouble. If he could make sure she stayed out of trouble without sleeping with her, he could hold out hope for a future relationship on honest terms.

Manuel looked up from drying shot glasses and smiled. “Rio, you’re late—” His gaze skipped to Cassie and rounded in surprise. “
Dios mío
.
Cassie Christo? Is that you?”

Manuel dropped his work on the bar and came around. His chatter had switched to Spanish, and his smile was more authentic than anything Rio had ever seen. He glanced at Cassie to find her smile just as big, just as filled with affection. It lit up her sweet face as if she was glowing inside, and God help him, something deep and powerful shifted inside Rio. Something that terrified him in too many ways to understand.

Manuel pulled her into a bear hug and off the floor like a father would a little girl. Cassie giggled, and the sound skipped pleasantly across Rio’s skin.

Manuel put her down, touched her face. “Oh,
mija
, it’s so good to see you. What brings you back? Visiting Nina and Mirabel?”

“Yes and no.” She went on to explain her work with the clinic, which was when Manuel seemed to remember Rio.

He sucked in a breath, studied Rio as if seeing him with new eyes. “Oh, yes. Yes. This is so nice.” With his arm still around Cassie’s shoulders, he closed in on Rio and dragged him into the group with the other arm. “You two are very nice together, yes. I’m so happy. Both such good people.”

“Uh, no, Manuel,” Rio said, trying to pull away from the man without being abrupt. “We’re not—”

“Nonsense.” He affectionately jerked on Rio’s neck with a meaty forearm. “You are beautiful together. Cassie, she is a gorgeous girl, no? And smart. A doctor.”

“Too smart to be with a guy like me.”

“Rio,” Manuel chastised.

Cassie leaned into Manuel and pretend-whispered, “He’s in denial. Give me some time, Manuel. I’ll break him down.”

Manuel dropped his head back and laughed. He released them both, kissed Cassie’s temple, and returned to his work behind the bar.

Break him down? Sweat formed across Rio’s chest. Wouldn’t take much at this point. She was already more than halfway there.

“What can I get you two?” Manuel asked.

A locked room. A horizontal surface.

“Six large coffees, please, Manuel,” she said, “for the crew.”

“Of course.” Manuel turned down the length of the bar toward the coffeepot.

“Oh, don’t look so worried.” Cassie’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Manuel isn’t one of Saul’s spies. Never has been.”

If he was worried, it wasn’t about Manuel talking to Saul. Rio waited until the bartender walked into the storage space at the end of the bar to speak.

“So.” He took a breath, steadied himself with a palm on the edge of the scarred wooden surface. “Do we have a deal?”

“The thought of bossing you around does have considerable merit.” Cassie pulled another donut from the bag and tossed the empty sack in a nearby trashcan. “But you can only stay if you actually help. No standing around just looking…” Her slow scan of his body tightened every muscle in turn. “…distracting.”

Not getting with her was most definitely a rougher assignment than getting with her. “I’ll do my best.”

Holding a jelly donut in one hand she used the other to point a comically stern finger at him. “But I reserve the right to kick your ass out—no explanation necessary.”

“You are dangerously threatening, holding your
second
donut of the morning.”

She dropped her hand to the pastry and pulled off a small piece. “You’re just jealous.”

That the donut was going in her mouth and he wasn’t?

Yes. He was jealous.

He pushed his hands into the back pockets of his jeans as Cassie studied the paraphernalia on the walls. A silver charm at her neck glimmered in the dim light—a single ocean wave threaded on a doubled leather cord. He scanned her profile, the petite nose, soft chin, elegant line of her jaw…and a scar in the shadow just beneath. Smooth. Thin. He would have thought it a surgical scar, only the placement was strange for surgery—right along the edge of the mandible. And given her skittish, defensive ways…