Seduction Under Fire (7 page)

Camille tried to fit the image Charlie had of her by acting sweet and demure. She wasn’t used to playing the unsavory role of a damsel in distress but had a lot riding on his belief that she was. Maybe he’d forget she tried to gut him with her elbow.

* * *

At sunset, Aaron sat in a white plastic patio chair and wolfed down a second plate of food at the traditional Saturday night communal barbecue. Strands of white lights rimmed the sprawling courtyard and classic rock filtered out through the windows of Charlie’s trailer. Twenty or so people were in attendance, mostly adults with a few kids thrown in. Charlie manned a charcoal grill on his porch with a beer in his hand.

The shower Aaron took at the teachers’ cottage had been a godsend and Ana had allowed him to rummage through her brother’s closet for clothes. Though he was still exhausted, at least he was clean and fed. He hadn’t seen Camille since freshening up and was beginning to feel uneasy about her absence. He had no time to look for her, though, because the teachers didn’t grant him the tiniest bit of breathing room. As though in competition, they seemed afraid to leave him alone lest the other one gain the advantage.

He frowned as he scanned the crowd for the thousandth time. Camille had another five minutes to materialize before he went in search of her.

“What do you think? Aaron, are you listening?” It was Ana.

“Ask me again?” He’d have to be more attentive if he expected Ana to offer Camille and him a ride to La Paz the next day. Borrowing Sarah’s phone earlier, he’d briefly touched base with Dreyer to explain what happened and where they were. Then the teachers were back in the room, preening and posing, and he’d hung up after agreeing to wait in La Paz for further instruction on the safest and most discreet way for ICE to get them out of the country.

“I asked, what do you think of our little vacation spot?”

“I’ve never seen another place—”

At that moment, Camille appeared out of the darkness. She filled a plate from the buffet table and took a seat on the edge of the courtyard. Aaron’s relief at seeing her hit him hard enough that he sighed audibly. She’d changed into a floral skirt and a red tank top, which were terrible clothing choices. Not only was the skirt impractical, but if she was trying to be inconspicuous, this was not the top she should’ve chosen. Couldn’t she have found a baggy sweatshirt to borrow?

Ana traced his line of sight to Camille and stood. “Enough talk. It’s time to dance.”

She led him onto a clear section of concrete where a few other couples swayed to the music. Sarah followed close at their heels. Camille was grimacing at her food and had yet to acknowledge his existence, which bothered him, although he wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t acknowledging her either, which he decided to correct after the next song ended.

Ana and Sarah danced against him with borderline desperation. Sarah wasted no time making sure Aaron knew precisely what she wanted from him. When grinding against him failed to hold his attention, she threw her arms around his neck and caught him in a surprise kiss.

Her breath reeked of cigarettes and tequila, like the girls in the dance clubs all smelled. Disgusting. But Sarah was the one with the cell phone and he needed to make a second expensive international call to Jacob later that night, so he kissed her back. When Sarah let go of him and Ana took her place, his eyes found Camille again. She was still scowling at her untouched food.

He couldn’t decide if she was nervous about the possibility of the cartel finding them or merely irritated that other people were enjoying themselves. Actually, it reminded him of the way she looked at Juliana and Jacob’s wedding reception, as if she’d decided beforehand to have a bad time and resented the other attendees for choosing otherwise.

More than any other aspect of her personality, her tendency to act put-upon really pissed him off. If she could change that one thing about herself, she’d be the total package—beautiful, intelligent and fun to be around. But two out of three was like being served a decadent dessert covered in mold.

Sarah, cutting off his line of sight, ran her fingers through his hair and turned his face toward hers.

He forced a smile. “Think I’m going to take a break, ladies.”

Ana slipped her foot up his leg. “Don’t be too long. Sarah’s been greedy for your attention and I’m starting to feel lonely.”

Oh, brother.
“I’m going to get a drink and borrow Charlie’s facilities. When I get back, you and I will dance again.”

At the drink table, he mixed a margarita in a plastic cup for Camille. He planned to stay stone-cold sober to keep a lookout for the cartel, but a little alcohol would be harmless for Camille and might help her sleep. At the very least, she might stop looking like someone ran over her dog.

He reached her chair and found it empty. Scanning the crowd, he spotted her on the dance floor, her arms around Charlie.

Charlie was a terrible dancer and his hands were way too close to Camille’s butt to be gentlemanly. Aaron glared at them, trying to catch Camille’s attention. What the hell was she thinking, throwing herself at a sweaty, middle-aged pothead while their lives were in danger?

At least her hair was in a ponytail. Crazy that it mattered to him, but if Charlie laid a finger on Camille’s hair, Aaron wouldn’t be able to stop himself from dragging her away and shaking some sense into her. As long as he and Camille were in Mexico, her hair belonged to him alone.

He huffed, disgusted as much by his train of thought as the sight of Charlie’s hands all over Camille. After downing the margarita, he crushed the cup and marched back to Ana, thumping Charlie’s shoulder hard with his own as he passed.

Ana welcomed him with open arms. “You’ve come back to me.”

“I have.”

If anyone could distract him, it would be Ana, whose sexuality oozed like honey from a comb. He put his hands on her hips and pulled her hard against his thigh, moving them as a unit to the beat of the music.
To stop thinking about her for just one song, I’ll push this as far as it will go.

* * *

Camille hated dancing, always had. So it was hard to contain her revulsion when Charlie asked her to dance. But she couldn’t say no, not when he’d agreed to loan her his Jeep the next morning.

At first, she was relieved that he initiated only the slightest sway of movement. Then she felt his hands getting friendly with her backside. As she smiled and made flirtatious conversation, she made a mental list of all the reasons why she was allowing herself to be treated in such a demeaning way. Still, the urge to break Charlie’s hands made it challenging to maintain a facade of sweetness.

Halfway through the song, she looked over Charlie’s shoulder and spotted Aaron walking in her direction. He sent her a murderous glare before wrapping one of the cupcakes around his body and practically screwing her right there on the dance floor. Like watching a car wreck in progress, Camille was powerless to look away.

Charlie, with a finger on her chin, forced her focus back to him. “He said you two weren’t an item.”

“Trust me, we’re not.”

“Then why are you jealous?”

“Oh, no. I’m not jealous. Just disappointed.”

“Sometimes people don’t turn out to be who we expect them to.”

She wound her arms around Charlie’s neck. “And some people are
exactly
who they first appear to be.”

Charlie smiled. “You sure you don’t want my help tomorrow looking for your lost horse?”

“Thank you, but I’d like to go alone. I’ll bring some rope and tether it to the rear of the Jeep for the trip back to camp. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for your help. I’m so lucky you found me on the beach.” Stifling a cringe, she stroked his jaw and tried to fill her eyes with the promise of reward for his generosity.

A loud giggle from Aaron’s groupies reclaimed Camille’s attention. The American girl was attached to him again. Aaron must have said something really funny because both girls were tittering and playing with their hair.

That was enough for Camille. She kissed Charlie on the cheek. “It’s my bedtime. Thanks for the dance...and the Jeep.”

“You’re welcome to sleep at my house, you know.”

Nice try, buddy.
“The beach beckons.”

As soon as Charlie moved into conversation with another couple, Camille strode into Aaron’s circle of hedonism and grabbed his arm. “Sorry to interrupt. I need to talk to Aaron. Don’t worry, I’ll return him to you in a sec.”

She marched him by the elbow toward the water, where the sound of the waves would drown out their words, and spun to face him. “I’ve seen enough of your disgusting display.”

“Aw, how sweet, you saved all your nastiness for me. Don’t I feel special.”

“If you want my advice, I think your best chance is with the American. She seems to have the lowest self-esteem of the two.”

Aaron threw his arms skyward. “That’s how little you think of me? You really believe that after all we’ve been through, I’m trying to get laid?”

“Isn’t that what you’re all about?”

“It shouldn’t surprise me you feel that way.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that your self-absorption distorts your perception of everyone else around you.”

“You think
I’m
self-absorbed? No human being on the planet is more vain than you are.”

“Are you kidding me? You’ve invested years in this whole martyr charade. Do you wake up feeling miserable or is that something you have to work up to over breakfast?”

It had been a long day. The ground looked fuzzy to Camille’s weary eyes. Despite how well they worked together to escape the cartel’s compound, interacting with Aaron was proving to be as toxic as ever. With what she was planning to do the next day, wasting her energy arguing with him was the last thing she needed.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “You think your new friends will be willing to give you a lift to La Paz?”

He eyed her suspiciously. “They’ve already offered, and I accepted on both our behalf.”

“Good. ICE will get you home safely from there.” It was a burden off her mind that she didn’t have to worry about him making it to California in one piece. Knowing Aaron had ICE backing him up, she could better concentrate on her plan.

“What’s going on, Camille? Why are you talking like you’re not coming with me?”

She straightened, trying to look as strong as she wished she felt. “Because I’m not. This is where we part ways. I’ll only take my fair share of the money and weapons. The bag’s behind the couch on Charlie’s porch.” What more could she say? It was great being kidnapped with you? “I’ve got a lot to do tomorrow, so I’m going to get some rest. Take care of yourself.”

She took a step back. The cool sand trickled into the sandals Charlie loaned her.

“Camille, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Goodbye, Aaron.”

She slunk sideways around his broad body, being careful not to touch him or smell his clean-laundry scent. Without looking back, she walked into the darkness.

Chapter 6

F
eeling Aaron’s eyes on her, Camille trudged through the sand to a hammock she spied earlier beneath a palapa. Was he relieved to be rid of her? Maybe, but what a dismal thought. She couldn’t afford to dwell on the cruelty of the world, on what she’d lost and what she could never have.

She didn’t need Aaron, she reminded herself. She didn’t need anyone.

The hammock rocked as Camille sat, removed the band from her hair and ran her fingers through the hopelessly tangled tresses. If she survived until she reached La Paz, she’d cut it all off—a present to herself for beating the odds, which were perilously stacked against her.

She moved the pistol to her stomach for easy access during the night. With a yawn, she settled back with an arm behind her head.

A figure loomed over her. Camille gasped and grabbed for the gun, but Aaron disarmed her handily.

He crossed his arms and frowned at her. “What, specifically, do you have planned for tomorrow?”

With the express purpose of making him go away, she decided to give it to him straight. “I was leading Charlie on so he’d loan me his Jeep.”

“Why?”

“I’ve decided to return to the compound to gather intel. The more data I can pass to U.S. authorities, the better Rosalia’s odds for rescue. Then I’ll drive the Jeep to La Paz and contact my team in the States to report my findings and get our families into protective custody so the cartel can’t hurt them to punish us. What happens after that depends on what my bosses want me to do toward her rescue. But I’ve decided I’m not leaving Mexico until Rosalia’s safe and I’ve done everything possible to help bring down the Cortez Cartel.”

His scowl deepened. “I’ve already contacted my ICE team about Rosalia and protection for our families.”

“You made a phone call? How?”

“Sarah let me borrow her cell phone. ICE has agents that specialize in rescue ops—to get both Rosalia and us out of Mexico. Look, it’s virtually impossible to bring down a cartel. If it could be done, then the U.S. government would have already, trust me. There’s no need to put yourself in more danger.”

Camille gave a hard laugh. “
More danger?
You’re kidding, right? We couldn’t possibly put ourselves in any more danger if we tried. Even after Rosalia’s rescued, do you honestly think the cartel will leave us alone? Do you think they stood around the hole from the grenade explosion and said to each other, ‘They stole our money and guns and escaped. Oh, darn
.
’” She shook her head. “Aaron, they know who we are and where to find us. Maybe living in WitSec with your family for the rest of your life is acceptable to you, but it’s not to me. I’m going to stay and fight.”

Aaron was quiet for a long time. He dropped his arms and looked at the ocean.

To fill the silence, Camille kept talking. “I don’t care if you think I’m doing it because I’m bent on being a martyr or whatever your opinion is of me. Rosalia deserves better. And I do, too. I may have a crappy life, but it’s mine and I won’t have a bunch of criminals dictating the terms. Maybe I’ll end up a legend on the force like my old man after all.”