Obsession (14 page)

A vision of her father’s face twisted with rage, a large leather strap raised in his hand, her mother on the sidelines, urging her father to “beat the little whore” rose up in her mind while Christmas carols played in the background in real time. She shook her head to dispel images and hateful voices. “Little wonder I have no faith in anything or anyone but me, myself, and I.”

Alejandro opened his mouth to say something. A chorus of cheers erupted from the partygoers. He grinned. “It’s time. Come with me.” He grasped her elbow and steered her through the jostling crowd outside into the courtyard.

Dressed all in white and bearing feathered wings and halo, a cherubic little Sherry led a procession of children and adults around the pool. Behind her, Ramon, dressed in a brown robe led a live burro. Sherry’s twin, Ruby, looking solemn and dressed in a blue robe, carried a baby doll. Other children, presumably belonging to Isabel’s employees, wore angel’s costumes or shepherd’s outfits and carried staffs. Behind the small platoon of kids, a cluster of adults carried candles. Even Guillermo Goat pranced along in the parade.

Angie had no idea what she was witnessing. “What the—?”

Alejandro put his index finger to his lips. “Shh. Wait.”

Sherry stood in front of the open door and called out,
“Posadas?”

A group of adults, including Isabel, yelled, “
No, no
posadas
.”

The children circled the pool another time and returned to the open door.
“Posadas?”

The adults responded, “
No, no posadas
.”

On the third attempt, the little angel looked as if she might cry. “
Posadas por favor?
Please?”

“
Si, si, posadas!
Come in Joseph, Mary, and Baby Jesús. Come in shepherds and angels.” Isabel called. “But the burro and Guillermo must stay outside.”

The children flew into the house and ran in circles around the room, each child seeking his or her parents, a chorus of little voices asking, “How did I do?” “Wasn’t I wonderful?” “Did you ever see a better shepherd?” Trays of steaming hot tamales, cookies, and bowls of punch appeared in the hands of smiling servants. The holiday music started up again, and the children swarmed the tree, searched for their names on the gifts, and called out to each other in glee.

“I think we’d better stay out of their way,” Angie laughed, “or we’ll be trampled to death by the little angels.”

Bumped by the kids, Alejandro led her to a corner of the room, away from the tree and the piñata. Along the way, he snagged two tamales and handed her one. “So, did you enjoy
Las Posadas
?”

Her mouth full, she had to swallow before she could answer. “Is that the Mexican version of ‘no room at the inn’?”

“Exactly. Las Posadas begins on the sixteenth of December. It’s re-played each evening for nine nights, with Christmas eve being the biggest one in most towns. But with our security issues,” he tilted his head toward the boss lady, “she likes to keep it to one night. It’s Isabel’s version of the company Christmas party.”

“And the gifts are from her?”

“Yes. Each one lovingly selected by a personal shopper, sent here to be checked for bombs and wrapped by her personal security staff, including me.” He wiped his moustache with a tiny cocktail napkin, but missed a crumb. Her hand automatically flew up to his face and brushed it away from his lips. He captured her hand mid-swipe. “Do that again and I might get the wrong idea.”

A trail of flames blazed from his fingers up her arm, to her breasts. Her nipples pebbled and a moment passed, then another. His gaze became a magnetic tractor beam, pulling her toward him. She leaned in and inhaled his scent, his maleness, his strength. He bent down, and his breath sent frissons of excitement across her neck and down her back. Tension coiled in her belly and shot jolts of excitement to her core. Angie closed her eyes and swore she could feel her feminine folds swell, like a pair of heavy butterfly wings, waiting to wrap around him in a warm, wet welcome.

He whispered, “Isabel is watching us.”

Angie leaped back. Her heart raced, and her breath came in short gasps, as if she’d run a fifty-yard dash. She had to put some distance between her quivering thighs and his strong hands—fingers she instinctively knew could caress her aching center and bring her to a blinding orgasm with a deft touch. She shook her head to disperse the sex pheromones driving her body wild.
Two. Long. Dry. Years.
She kicked herself mentally. She couldn’t believe she was this close to screwing up her life again. Not happening. Never again.

“Time for me to go. Thanks for showing me a good time.” She turned on her heel and pushed her way through the cheerful crowd, past the smirking Isabel, and out the front door. Angie wished the frosty air would cool her down, get her head clear, and reduce the fever she spiked whenever she came near
that man
.

****

Alejandro watched Angie’s fine ass fly out of the room and sighed.
Damn.
One more minute and he’d been about to lose his mind and suggest they go someplace private, away from the prying eyes, to have wild, crazy sex that he knew without a doubt that woman was capable of. His groin ached when he got anywhere near her. If he wasn’t on his guard every single moment, he could lose a lot more than his cool. What was his little head thinking? Rule number one: no sex with the women on the job. Both his big head and his little head knew better.
Hands off the hot mama.
He shifted his belt to rearrange his uncooperative little head and listened to the children counting the number of times Sherry swatted the piñata.

“
Uno, dos, tres…
”

Isabel sidled up to him and sipped her red wine. “Nice of you to spend time with Angie. I think she’s lonely.”

Not now. Please.
“She’s your friend. I’m just looking out for her. It’s all business.”

“Didn’t look like business to me. If you guys had been alone, you’d have been doing the deed right there on the floor.” She fanned herself. “You guys made me hot just watching you. It was like the best movie scene,
ever
. Made me want to jump Sean’s bones right here. The air around you two was crackling. I swear I saw sparks flying when she touched your face.”

He bit his lower lip. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”

His boss punched his shoulder. “Are you out of your freaking mind? It’s a sign you guys are meant to be together. It’s like that for me and Sean. That kind of connection only happens once in a lifetime. I know you’re ambitious, want to climb the ladder of success with my company, but life can’t be all work and no play. You need to let go of that uptight accountant act once in awhile, have fun. Angie needs it too, in case you hadn’t noticed. If she was wrapped any tighter, she’d be a guitar string. She needs a good tuning. For heaven’s sake, go for the girl. Don’t throw away a chance for happiness, Alejandro.”

Love advice from the Queen of the Cartel? What was next? Spiritual counseling? He shuddered at the thought. “I’m not the marrying type.”

Isabel shook her head. “Let me tell you a story.” She motioned to Alejandro to take a seat and grabbed a bottle of wine out of a server’s hands. “
Gracias.”

He had a feeling he was in for a long evening. He glanced at the front door and wished he could run after the red haired woman.

“Once upon a time, I was on the faculty of Baltimore Metropolitan University. I became good friends with Sarah Rosen who was married to Dan Rosen. Sarah didn’t know that well
before
they were married, while she and Dan were on the outs and ex-boyfriend and girlfriend, he had a fling with Angie.”

Isabel smiled. “I can see from the stunned look on your face that you never took Angie for a one night stand kind of a gal.”

“You got that right. She’s so straight, her face has angles.” Was this the source of her antipathy toward him. Did she think he was
married
? She’d asked about his family. He would have been happy to let her know he was single. That much was true.

“Angie didn’t know Dan had been engaged and had just had broken up with Sarah. And Dan didn’t know his little fling with the redhead would produce a child who would literally show up on his doorstep—and that his new wife would take the child in.”

His head spun with the layers upon layers. “This sounds like a
telenovela
.”

She nodded and laughed, a deep throaty guffaw. “It
is
like soap opera. There’s more.”

Alejandro stroked his beard and watched the children swinging the baseball bat at the piñata.

“She told me her father tortured her to find out where the baby was. And she escaped.”

Isabel nodded. “Yes, she ran to the home of the only man she trusted. Dan Rosen. Sarah rushed her to the hospital, nursed her back to health, protected her from police accusations, and even protected Angie from being killed by her own father, the crazy cult leader, Reverend Edmonds. In short, Sarah became Angie’s guardian angel, if you’ll forgive the pun.”

“Where are you in this story?”

Isabel waved her hand and the wine slopped in the glass. “I had my own issues to deal with. A sleazy husband in the ‘construction business’, if you get my drift. A missing nanny. A mysterious explosion. When my husband disappeared, I worried my kids might be next—or me. Sean insisted on coming with me to my parents’ house.” She glanced over at the broad-shouldered man giving Ruby a lift to hit the piñata. “What can I say? The kids love him.”

“What am I missing here? How do Sarah and Angie fit in?” The dots were not connecting. He had sources, could find out on his own, but he wanted to hear her version.

“My
darling
ex-husband sent Sarah a DVD, claiming I was a murderer.” She gave Alejandro an incredulous look. “Can you believe it? That thug was an enforcer for my father, someone who could torture people without leaving marks. How could anyone believe that
I
could kill
him
?”

Alejandro worked to keep his emotions in check and his mask in place.
Oh, he could believe it, all right
. She had worked over that cult follower with her steel tipped boots. She’d
bragged
about it.

He tsked. “Ridiculous.”

“Exactly. Sarah still has the DVD. I have it from a very good lawyer that letters from the grave are inadmissible in court.” She shrugged. “But, what can I say, I like Sarah, I don’t hold that DVD against her. She asked me to help Angie. And I said yes. Sarah’s like the sister I never had. Practically family.” He could have sworn he saw tears fill her eyes.

He decided to take a risk with her good mood. “Speaking of family, where are your parents tonight? Seems like they’d want to see their grandchildren in the Christmas pageant.”

Alejandro locked gazes with Isabel. Despite the blazing fire, a chill settled over him. Her emerald green eyes were as cold as any hired killer’s he’d ever seen. In that split second, he knew without a doubt that if she had wanted to kill her parents, she
could
have done it. The real question was, did
she kill them—and why?

Smart, sexy, and beautiful,
Professora
Ramirez wanted for
nothing
. In some parts of Chihuahua, the people revered her as a female Solomon, arriving in impoverished villages with great fanfare, giving food and money to the poor, holding court for the little people, ensuring rough justice was dealt to thieves and bad teenagers. To top it all off, she ran rehabilitation centers for alcoholics and drug addicts, of all things. She was, for all intents and purposes, Queen Isabel of Chihuahua. Why
bother
killing her parents?

Her nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed. “They’re on a trip around the world, too busy having fun to bother with a little thing like grandkids.” Isabel threw the rest of the wine down her throat. “My parents are selfish people. Nothing like Sarah or Angie. Jake belongs with his mother. Not stuck in some crazy, abusive cult. God only knows what they’ll do to him.” A tear slid down her cheek, and she dashed it away with her fingertips.

“Kill her father. Kill them
all
if you have to. Bring back that child.” She stood. “And while you’re at it, don’t forget the gold.”

Chapter Ten

Rigid with anger, Miriam tapped her thigh with the Disciplinarian and strode down the corridor toward the women’s quarters and the Crèche. What was wrong with these people? They had their orders, said they knew what they were supposed to do. So, why was she cleaning up their messes? Why did she have to do
everything
herself?

She strode past a cluster of female congregants, their clucking silenced by her presence. Good. That was as it should be. She marched up to Sister Anne.

“What’s going on?”

Sister Anne stood in front of the locked door of the Crèche and wrung her hands. “They want to go home.” Her red-rimmed eyes filled with tears. “They want to know why they’re being kept prisoners.”

“They were selected to serve Father and the Chosen One. There is no greater glory on this earth. Who’s the ring-leader of this insurrection?”

The other woman trembled under Miriam’s gaze. “Mina.”

Guillermina
. Of course. No good could ever come from naming a girl after a man. “She’s been trouble from the start.”

Sister Anne nodded. “Brother John isn’t much help. He’s afraid of them, just keeps telling them to calm down. And they yell more.”