Wild Borders (13 page)

* * * * *

“Eduardo Montaño, please,” Lani said to the courthouse’s elegant receptionist. The nameplate on the woman’s desk read
Portia Zapata
.

“Do you have an appointment with the mayor?” The receptionist wore a sleek black business suit, her voice smooth and professional. She seemed accustomed to heading off unwanted visitors.

“Yes. I’m Lane E. Stanton with
City by the Bay
Magazine,” Lani replied.

While the receptionist buzzed the mayor’s office, Lani ignored the urge to fuss with her skirt and her press badge, doing her best to appear calm, cool, and collected despite the humidity. She’d spent the past week in casual clothing, and for the first time she could remember she felt confined wearing a silk suit and nylons. On top of that, the leather pumps pinched her toes and she longed to be in her casual sandals or tennies. She’d arranged her hair in an elegant chignon at the nape of her neck, applied her makeup with a subtle hand, and wore diamond studs in her ears.

One of the most important things she’d learned early in her career was to dress as the natives do. When interviewing a rancher, dress comfortably in jeans and a blouse. When speaking with an office clerk, wear nice slacks or a pant outfit. When meeting with a politician, dress to kill.

A few moments later, the receptionist escorted Lani into the mayor’s office. The news reports she’d seen of the mayor hadn’t done him justice. He was almost beautiful with his long black eyelashes and aristocratic features. Not a speck of gray marred his ebony hair or his full mustache.

“
Buenas días
, Ms. Stanton,” the mayor said with a small bow. “With the name Lane, I expected a man, and instead I find myself in the company of a most beautiful
Señorita
. Or is it
Señora
?” His voice was well modulated, his manner that of a true politician.

She smiled. “Thank you, Mayor Montaño. I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me. Is there a Spanish word that translates to Ms.?”

He took Lani’s fingers lightly in his, lifted them to his mouth and brushed his lips across her knuckles. His cologne was heavy, a cloying smell that reminded Lani of her ex-husband’s cologne. “I’m afraid not. Call me Eduardo, please. May I call you Lane?”

As she withdrew from his grasp, Lani replied, “Of course.”

“Have a seat, Lane.” With a sweep of his arm, he gestured to one of two leather chairs in front of his desk. After Lani sat, the mayor hitched up his slacks and settled into the chair next to her.

“Mr. Montaño—”

“Eduardo, please.”

“Ah, yes.” Lani swallowed. “Eduardo. May I record our interview so that I can ensure my notes are accurate?”

He nodded and crossed his legs at his knees. “By all means.”

After Lani pulled the recorder out of her purse, she turned it on then withdrew her notepad of questions. She glanced at the rich furnishings, trying to get a sense of the man she was about to interview.

Behind the desk was a large window, but the wooden blinds were drawn shut. Bookshelves lined one wall, filled with brass sculptures of bullfighters and bulls, as well as a few thick volumes. Oil paintings of matadors in vivid hues of reds, greens, blues and yellows dominated the other two walls, the fighters waving traditional red capes before powerful black bulls.

“You have a lovely office,” she said. “I see you have a penchant for bull fighting.”

“
Sí
.” Montaño’s mustache twitched and he gave a ruthless smile. “The greatest of all sports.”

Lani turned from looking at the sculptures and gave him her let’s-get-down-to-business smile. “I understand you’re running for United States Congress in this fall’s election, and your campaign is on an immigration reform platform.”

“Yes, that is correct.” He placed his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepled his fingers. “I feel very strongly that something must be done to alleviate this ongoing problem.”

“Will you explain?”

He nodded. “But of course. First, I believe we should grant amnesty to all Mexican nationals now living in the U.S.” He ticked off the points on his fingers. “Second, I advocate free schooling for children of undocumented aliens in all states, and that we should not require these children to prove citizenship in order to go to school. Third, I believe that no one in any state should have to provide a social security number or proof of residency to obtain a driver’s license.”

Montaño continued in the manner of a politician practiced in outlining his views. “Fourth, I oppose mandatory reporting by employers of their employees’ nationalities. Fifth, I do not believe we should fine employers who hire undocumented workers. And sixth, I do not agree with dragnets that round up immigrants from their homes or workplaces.”

Lani made a note to herself on her notepad. “How do you feel this will help the problem with the numbers of people attempting to cross the border illegally every day?”

“I believe that we must ease the hardship of the suffering souls living in fear and despair on our side of the border,” he replied. “Those poor people on the other side are in my thoughts and prayers. However, they must wait and cross into this country legally, as did my father, many years ago.”

Typical politician. Talking in circles around her questions.

“I see. Now regarding the number of aliens crossing the border illegally, do you feel that going after the smugglers and
coyotes
would get to the root of the problem?”

“Of course we wish to find and prosecute these reprehensible beings.” Montaño shrugged. “Let me express how much it saddens me that these smugglers of humans, these so called
coyotes
, continue to cause the loss of so many lives. It’s a terrible problem and something must be done about it.”

She met his gaze head on. “What do you propose?”

“First we must address the most important issues on immigrants already living in this country, before we can tackle that obstacle.”

Not going to get a straight answer.

Lani checked her list of questions and looked back to Montaño. “What do you know of a
coyote
named Gordo?”

For a fraction of a second, Lani thought she saw unease in the mayor’s eyes, but a questioning look replaced it almost at once. “Gordo? I do not recall a
coyote
by that name. Where did you hear it?”

Was there something in his look? “Someone must have mentioned it to me,” Lani said and went to the next item on her list.

Montaño answered more of her questions in his carefully rehearsed manner, then glanced at his watch. “As much as I enjoy your company,
Señorita
, I have another appointment I must attend to.”

She gathered her belongings and thanked the mayor. He seemed like he was a nice enough man for politician. As she left she wondered why the interview with him had made her feel so uneasy.

That evening when Sadie answered the phone, it was Rick. He let them know that he would be getting home late into the night due to work, and not to hold up dinner or wait up for him.

After dinner, Lani helped clean the dishes, and said goodnight to everyone, explaining that she had a headache and needed to get to sleep early. Once in bed she tossed and turned, and when she finally did fall asleep, it was less than peaceful.

It was going too fast! They would crash!

Screams filled the cramped cabin. Naya squeezed Lani’s hand, crushing her fingers. “OhGodohGodohGodohGod,” Naya cried over and over and over again.

“Head between your knees,” Father yelled. Mother sobbed beside him.

Lani pushed Naya down. Naya was still praying. Lani’s head filled with the chant, her heart pounding in desperate rhythm. “OhGodohGodohGodohGod, please! Let us live!”

The plane slammed forward, nose down. Impact! The seatbelt dug deep. Lani’s head smashed into a seatback.

Spinning. They were spinning. Luggage burst from overhead compartments. Around and around they whipped. Back and forth. Suitcases battered her arms. Screams. Shrieks. The sound of metal grinding, tearing, as the plane ripped in half.

The caustic smell of electrical smoke filled the cabin. Sparks, then fire!

Whirling. They were spinning, screaming.

Slower, it moved slower, but Lani’s head still reeled. The screech of metal against asphalt raked across her spine, like a giant hand scraping down an immense chalkboard. Finally, finally, the plane shuddered to a stop.

Were they really alive? Did they make it?

Fire. Smoke. Screams. Sirens. The stench of burning flesh. Pain seared Lani’s thigh and she saw torn cloth, her flesh flayed open, blood covering her lap.

Naya’s hand still clutched Lani’s in a death grip. Lani lifted her head and looked at her sister. Blood shrouded Naya, and her mouth and eyes were wide open, frozen with fear.

“
No
!” Lani bolted upright in bed. Tears streamed down her face, her clothes soaked with sweat, every inch of her body trembling.

The door burst open. Light from the hall silhouetted Rick’s big form, his hair rumpled. Through her tears she saw concern stamped across his features.

“What happened?” He shut the door and in two long strides, he reached her. One look at her face and he slid onto the edge of the bed and pulled her into his lap. “Are you all right?”

She sobbed against his strong shoulder. She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t force the images from her mind of smoke, flames, twisted metal, and her dead sister’s face. Lani’s leg throbbed, as if her skin was still shredded, blood still pouring from the wound.

“A nightmare?” Rick’s voice was soft and soothing.

She shuddered and nodded against his chest. “I—I dreamt about the plane crash. Naya. Her face. It was so—so real.”

For a long while, he held her, gently rocking her, trying to soothe the horror of her nightmare. Terror and grief raged within Lani. She could barely think. Barely hold the screams trapped in her throat.

“Easy,” came Rick’s low murmur through the chaos. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Safe? How could anywhere be safe
? Her swallowed screams turned to sobs. Nowhere on Earth would ever be safe again. Father. Mother. Naya.

Dear god. Naya!

Hot tears streamed down Lani’s cheeks, but Rick’s embrace didn’t falter. “Let it go. Let it out. I’ll be here. Right here.”

She let herself believe him, let herself relax in his powerful arms. The easy sigh of his breathing lulled her, and she smelled his earthy, grounding scent. So strong. He felt so strong. Her hand slid across his naked chest, through the patch of curling hair and the dampness of her tears against his flesh. Slowly, ever so slowly, the room returned to proper focus.

Rick. He was holding her still, his protective arms cradling her with more gentleness, more caring than she’d known from any man. Her heartbeat quickened, and once more, intense emotions stirred—but not fear. Not grief.

The antidote. Passion. Tenderness.

She turned her face to look into his eyes. Fathomless pools, midnight blue in the faint light. “You’re always comforting me.”

He brushed his lips across her forehead. “Do you need me to stay awhile longer?”

Closer. She wanted closer. She wanted his lips, wanted him to kiss her until there was no turning back. His body pressed to hers, nothing between them but a fine layer of perspiration. The intensity of her desire shocked her, but all she could think about was how much she wanted him. Now.

She turned her mouth to his chest, kissing the salty flesh, moving her lips to his collarbone and trailing her tongue along his skin. His breath hissed out, stirring hair at her temple. She wanted him to kiss her the way he had at the park. So thorough, so exquisite that time meant nothing. Only the sound of his heartbeat against hers, the feel of his hands and lips on her body.

As Lani lifted her head, Rick pressed his fingertips to her mouth, stopping her from reaching his lips. She kissed his hand instead, moving her lips over each finger.

He groaned and shuddered. “Not now, not when your heart aches like this.”

“But…” Disappointment swelled within Lani. He didn’t want her.

“Yes, I do want you,” he replied as if she’d spoken the words aloud. “More than you can imagine.” His cock pressed against her hip like a rod made of steel, and she knew it was true.

“But let me be your friend tonight.” He stroked her hair behind her ear. “Let your head clear, and if tomorrow, you still want that kiss…”

With a reluctant sigh, she snuggled closer, enjoying the feel of his chiseled body, his muscular arms wrapped around her. How different he was from James. James, who took advantage of her vulnerability.

As she shifted in his lap, Rick tensed. He gave a muffled oath, moved Lani to the bed and stood. “You ought to sleep.”

She could barely see him in what little light poured in from the hall, but it was enough to see the powerful muscles in his chest, the hard line of his body, the thrust of his cock outlined against the white of his briefs.

A moan caught in her throat. He was so beautiful.

He took a ragged breath. “Don’t look at me like that, honey. Like you want to eat me whole. I can hardly think straight as it is.”

She slid down her pillow and pulled the covers to her waist. “Okay.”

“‘Night.” He smiled, rakish yet wistful, and turned toward the door.

Lani sat up again. “Wait.”