Advance ticket sales for El Traficante have set new records worldwide.

The jet landed at La Vanguardia airport outside Villavincencio, Colombia, at ten in the morning. From the small window in the plane it looked like a gloomy day with rain on the horizon, which was expected being that they were so close to the rain forest.

Annie was so serious he barely recognized her. Her face transformed into a soldier’s, her back straighter, her lips set in a straight line, her eyes moving quickly, scanning everywhere around them. Yet her body was still. She was a damn robot. This was the side of her that scared him. He wanted her there with him, not as an employee.

She wasn’t showing even a drop of emotion. He thought that by now he knew her. God, did he know her, he’d come to know every square inch of that delectable compliant little body. Just thinking of the way she let go for him, peeled back that armor, and let him have his way with her body, made his cock stir. But now she was cold, calculating, and quite frankly intimidating.

He knew she had an arsenal hidden underneath her clothes. And now that the plane was touching down, he was worried too. Not so much about himself, but about her. She’d have absolutely no qualms about getting right into the thick of things if shit went south, and he wasn’t prepared to see his woman in danger. Danger which he put her in. Yes, she signed up for it, but that didn’t make it less difficult. He wished they’d met under different circumstances. That he could be her protector, even if she didn’t need any protecting. It was old-fashioned, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want this for her. He wanted peace and tranquility for her. Not this wound-tight soldier who was now signaling for him to exit the plane after having surely done a sweep of the tarmac.

They were keeping a low profile. He hoped that would continue throughout the week. In jeans, a T-shirt, and a baseball hat, Rocco tried to look as unassuming as possible, but it was hard to blend in when he had just arrived in a private jet with an entourage of security, and when, in a country where the average person did not have a car, he was heading out of the airport in a brand new black sedan.

“Stop!” Annie said from five feet in front of him, halting her movement. “This plan isn’t going to work.” She turned to the local security and liaison he hadn’t even been introduced to yet. “I want a cab. Someone go get us a cab.”

The five men looked at each other utterly confused. “You,” she said, pointing to the one who seemed to be in charge. “Your English, it’s good, right?”

“Yes, señora.”

“Okay, please explain to them that if we leave this airport in a caravan, people will get curious. We need to blend in. I should have thought of this earlier,” she said, her face full of self-loathing. “But it’s not going to work. I’ll call the studio and then Rock and I will go see about the taxi. You five can head out in these cars and meet us tomorrow at the lobby at 0800. I don’t want anyone following you to the hotel.” It was as if she’d read his thoughts.

“But señora?”

“Do it,” she barked as she swiped the screen on her phone. Luckily, they were on a private tarmac in the airport and there wasn’t anyone around to witness all this. The man translated what Annie had said to the other men and they were speaking in Spanish, flailing their hands around. It didn’t take a genius to understand that they weren’t happy. Meanwhile, Annie stood aside and made calls, getting louder and louder by the minute. Eventually the guys got into the car and left and Annie made another call.

“Joey, it’s me. I’m here and there’s been a change of plans. I can’t explain it now but I’ve pissed everyone off. You have to trust me on this one though . . . yeah, expect a pissed-off call . . . yeah, I do know what I’m doing. Thanks, Joey. Call you when I’m there.” And she hung up.

“You ready?” she asked Rocco, tucking her phone back into her pocket.

“Yes. You?”

“One sec.” She let go of her ponytail, fluffed up her hair, and rolled up her sleeves. “I hope no one recognizes me from those pap photos. From now until we get on set tomorrow, I’m just the woman you’re seeing and you’re just a regular guy. We’re two regular people on vacation.”

“On our honeymoon.”

She cocked an eyebrow and shook her head. “Whatever. You ready?”

“Yes.”

She began to walk but he grabbed her hand and entwined her fingers with his. “You think I’d let my girlfriend or wife just walk ahead of me? Come on, get into character, little Tiger.” He winked and they walked into the airport. “Good job, by the way. You were right, the other option would draw too much attention.”

When they walked into the airport, they easily got lost in the sea of people trying to find their way around. It wasn’t like an American airport, but the chaos was mostly the same, just on a smaller scale. After going through customs, where no one seemed to pay them any mind, they went to get their bags. “I’m about to say the douchiest thing that’s ever come out of my mouth,” he said, as they waited for their bags to arrive to the baggage area.

“I highly doubt that, babe.” She smiled.

He pulled her to him and kissed her head. “Okay, you’re right. But definitely the douchiest thing I’ve said today. I can’t remember the last time I carried my own bags—or hell, waited for my bags.”

“Such a diva,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist. He couldn’t tell if this was part of their role or it was genuine affection. Damn, how he wished it was genuine. It felt so good. Too good. It almost made him forget why he was there to begin with. He could totally imagine them on a vacation together just relaxing like this.

“There they are.” She let go of him and walked to the end of the room where two men were unloading their bags. He instantly missed her closeness.

They each rolled their bags out to the main entrance of the two-story building that was La Vanguardia and waited for one of the lines of cabs to roll up and open the door for them.

Rocco took Annie’s luggage and placed it in the trunk of the car together with his. By the time he came back around, Annie was already in the car giving the driver instructions as to where to go.

The rest of the crew had arrived a week ago to scout out the location and make all the arrangements so that Rocco and Julia would be in and out of Colombia as quickly as possible, and with Julia in the movie, it was hard to go unnoticed. In fact, everyone was anxiously anticipating her arrival later that evening.

By the time they arrived at the hotel it was raining. The hotel, at the request of NHN, had upped their security and the place was supposed to be a fortress. At least that’s what they’d been told. But it surely didn’t seem like it with a few local news vans set up around the parking lot. They were far enough away that they wouldn’t physically be a problem, but definitely with the high-resolution cameras and the long-range zoom lenses, they would see them get out of the cab and walk inside. Right now, they’d probably just suspected the crew was in town and were hoping that the stars would appear, but now they’d be able to confirm it.

“Damn it.” She saw the vans too. “I’ll get the bags, you go straight up. They’re waiting for you. Suite three-thirteen. Go.”

He chuckled as he took out his wallet to pay the cab driver.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re actually serious? You think I’m going to leave you down here by yourself? With the luggage and camera crews? With what you keep saying is a dangerous situation?”

“It’s my job!”

He handed the driver money and stepped out of the car, holding the door open for her, ignoring her plan completely.

“You’re my woman, I’m not doing that. Come on, let’s go.” The cab driver was watching their interaction and if the vans across the parking hadn’t gotten wind of him being there, the cabbie would undoubtedly let them know in a matter of moments.

Rocco moved his baseball cap lower on his eyes and took the luggage out of the trunk.

“I’m not your woman right now. I’m your bodyguard, damn it,” she hissed, pulling her luggage out of his hand. He slammed the trunk down, hard.

“Well, you’re fired then.” He said it as a knee-jerk reaction, not really meaning it, but before he had a chance to apologize she yelled, “Get down!”

There was complete confusion as something came barreling toward his head, but she pushed him out of the way, getting the brunt of the impact of whatever it was. Suddenly glass bottles and rocks were being tossed at them and people were chanting “Vianse!” Which he recognized as “leave.”

The cab, which had shielded them from most of the impact, drove off, gravel flying all around them. Now they were completely exposed. “I said go!”

“No! Fuck, you’re hurt. Come on.”

The security from the inside of the hotel began to run out and she began barking out orders. Somehow in the mayhem he was whisked away. “Let go of me!”

“Señor. This way. Vámonos.”

“No!” He pulled away from one of the burly security guards and tried to go to Annie, but the men held him back, pulling him farther away instead of closer. “Fucking let me go, now!”

“No, señor. Calmate. Calamte. We have orders that you and Julia Vargas are number one priority. Vámonos.”

He continued to fight them until Annie came stumbling into the hotel, her palm touching her forehead. She looked at the bloody palm before wiping it on her jeans.

She had her gun drawn as she looked around the lobby trying to get her bearings. There were a few guests quivering off to the side confused. When she finally saw Rocco, she stomped toward him.

“Let’s go!” she barked, the security guards letting Rocco go and grabbing their bags.

“You are out of control!” he said when they’d finally gotten into the room.

“Tensions are high. You need to listen to me.”

He was so livid, he wasn’t sure whether to strangle her or make love to her. He picked up the room phone. “I need a medic up here please.”

“Are you hurt?” she asked, when he hung up.

“No! You are!” he pulled her to a chair in the sitting area of the suite. “Sit down.” He looked at her hairline, where there was a big gash.

“It’s just a scratch. I’m fine.”

“No. Stop.” He moved her hand out of the way and continued to check on her. A moment later a woman with a medical bag came in. Annie was reluctant to cooperate but finally relented.

“I told you it was nothing,” Annie said as she walked the medic out of the room.

“Better safe than sorry. I’m going to shower,” he said, slamming the door shut behind him.

* * *

She sat on the bed thinking of the last few moments. She texted Joey with an update, then tossed her phone aside. Maybe being with her was just that hard. He knew it would be, she’d never told him otherwise. Feeling irritated she opened the bathroom and then forcefully slid the curtain open.

“I told you I was intense and that my job was important. You said you’d understand and look, the first sign of a problem—you leave.”

He exhaled loudly, reached for the loop of her jeans, and pulled her inside. “Ack! Monroe, you’re getting me all wet!”

“I didn’t leave. I needed a breather. It scared the shit out of me when you pushed me away, literally, to get between me and danger. Bear with me, crazy. This isn’t easy for me.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

He bent down and kissed her. “I don’t want you to get hurt either.”

Knowing that this was as close as they were going to get to resolving this matter, she let it go. So instead, she decided to take advantage of her wet and naked boyfriend.

“I’ve always been curious about make-up sex,” she said, as she reached for the hem of her soaked top and pulled it off.

“Well, baby, with you as a girlfriend, I’m sure we’re going to be having plenty of make-up sex. Let’s start right now.”

* * *

Half asleep, Rocco yawned and stretched his arm to the other side of the bed. It was cold and empty. He opened his eyes and looked around. Then he sat up. “Annie?”

When there wasn’t an answer he got up and looked through the suite. “I swear to God . . .” he grumbled to himself as he dialed her number.

“Hello?” she answered, but it was very loud.

“Where are you?”

“One second.” The background noise faded a little. “Rocco?”

“Where are you?”

“At the set. I wanted to make sure everything was safe.”

“You left without me?”

“There’s someone outside your door guarding it, and someone else by the elevator. I didn’t want to wake you.”

He almost threw the phone across the room. She just didn’t get it. Was her self-esteem that fucked up that she thought he cared about his own safety above hers?

“I was going to go back but there’s a few things here I’m not happy about, so I’ll just meet you here.”

He was too upset to even speak. He didn’t want to say something he would regret. Honestly, he couldn’t remember ever being that mad. Maybe because he never cared about anyone enough to get upset.

In ten minutes he was out the door, wearing the first thing he grabbed—a T-shirt and jeans. He had two hours of hair and makeup anyway.

The unfamiliar man guarding his door followed him downstairs and escorted him to a car. The conversation was minimal and in thirty minutes they were at the set, which was truly in the middle of Villavincencio. It was located in the center of a busy area with other restaurants, small markets, and shops. Even though rural, from the outside, Ilusiones looked like the most upscale establishment in the street. Perhaps even in the city.

Most of the street seemed to be cordoned off, and when he identified himself to a security guard standing at the end of a street, the guard moved the wooden barricade to allow them through. The crew was setting up, and Spelling was there talking to everyone, hard at work. He’d seen the schedule last night and Julia had most of the morning scenes, so she was already there filming. He had a later start, which is why he’d hoped to sleep in a little. But apparently his thickheaded woman had other plans.

The crew all nodded and smiled as he walked in, and he could barely find the strength to return it, which was not like him. He was known for his friendly easy demeanor.

Sitting at a table, looking away from him, with three laptops in front of her, typing so quickly her fingers looked as if they were gliding across the keyboard, was the woman in question.

“Before I met you, I was a pleasant person,” he said into Annie’s ear, startling her. She stopped typing and turned to meet him.

“What?”

He pulled her chair firmly and turned it around, then he grabbed another chair and dragged it right in front of her, so that they were knee to knee, eye to eye. “Before I met you, people would say—there goes Rocco Monroe. Nice guy. Happy, even.”

She looked completely confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Do I look like a happy guy right now? I can tell you I don’t at all feel nice.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and sat back. “No, you look kind of like an ass right now. What is wrong with you?”

“What is wrong with me?” He ran his fingers through his hair. “What is wrong with me? You. You are what’s wrong with me. I’ve never met a woman who avoided spending time with me as much as you do. Or who put herself in danger on purpose like you do.”

“Again? We’re having this conversation again?”

“Yes. Again. We’re having it again.” He said it low so the entire crew didn’t hear, but he knew his voice was getting agitated. “I hate this. This isn’t me.”

“Well, this is me!” she said, hurt contorting her expression, but she quickly schooled it and was back to the impassive robot he disliked so much. “What do you want from me?”

“What do I want from you? I just want you. You. Not this . . . this emotionless person.”

“Fuck you, Monroe. I’m not emotionless. I’m focused. I’m doing my job.”

“So let me ask you this. When this movie is done, and the threat is over, then what? Because there will always be unhappy fans. Crazed fans. Or happy overzealous fans? When will you be my girlfriend? Because I don’t want a bodyguard. I want a woman who is part of my life. An equal. Someone who will love me. Someone I’ll love. Not someone who is working for me twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”

“You knew how important my job was,” she said softly. It was the softest he’d heard her talk. “I can’t let my guard down. Especially not here. I have a bad feeling.”

“I don’t know what to say, Annie. I really don’t. I can see myself having a life with you. Having fun together. Building something. I see all that in those moments when you let your guard down and let me in. But that’s only a few hours in the day, and I don’t know if I can have a part-time girlfriend.”

“What are you saying?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I just—let’s just get through this week.” He stood and walked to the back where the makeup artists had set up their stations.

* * *

Annie’s chest hurt.

When she’d been slammed against the building from the impact of the bomb in Kandahar, she’d felt a physical pain in her chest and thought she’d never be able to catch her breath. Then, when she’d realized that Yagana and Derek were dead, the pain tripled.

But even through all that, she’d never felt fear. She was trained to survive and even when she thought she would die buried in the rubble, she wasn’t scared. She had a lot of regrets, but she wasn’t scared.

Now, however, she was scared. She was scared of the actual situation at Villavincencio. Filming in the hostile province had been a terrible idea. While on the computer she did more research on Mendoza. It seemed that the highest concentration of protestors were in this area. Yet, this was not necessarily the area where Mendoza’s house was located or where his coca crop was.

So why here?

Now she was scared of going through her life never feeling that same passion and intensity she’d felt for the last three weeks with Rocco. Could she go back to her lonely existence? Pretending everything was fine when it was not even a little fine?

If they could just make it through this week, then they could sit and have a real conversation.

Annie quickly learned how intense filming a movie really was, especially when they had to acclimatize to specific working conditions. In this case, since the real-life scene occurred at night, filming was done at night. But that didn’t mean that they got to sleep in and stroll onto the set at eight in the evening. No, it meant that by the third day everyone was cranky, irritable, and exhausted.

They’d get back to the hotel right before sunrise at five in the morning and face plant into the bed until about ten when they headed back to Ilusiones. It was a grueling schedule. The protestors hadn’t been too bad, all of them standing off to the side holding signs and picketing. They’d had things thrown at their cars as they drove by but it wasn’t anything anyone couldn’t handle.

It was day four of the shoot, and Annie sat off to the side at one of the restaurant tables where she could see everything. She was sick of the way the cast and crew held their firearms. The first day, she’d been wary since they’d looked so real she actually picked up the weapon and analyzed it.

Spelling walked by her and picked up a water bottle from the cooler. “So what do you think so far?”

“I’m impressed. I think it’s going to be great.” She lied because she had no idea if it would or wouldn’t look great since she’d just seen small parts being shot. The magic of editing, she thought.

“I feel as if you have something to say?”

“Nope,” she said sitting back, and looking blankly at her computer screen.

“Say it. I won’t get offended. Is it about Julia? She can be a pain in the ass.”

She chuckled. That was an understatement. “Well, I hate to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, but . . .” She reached behind her and took out her weapon. “You see this. This is the way you hold a gun.” Then, pointing the gun down and away from anyone, she slid the top back, racking it. “They’ve been watching too many gangster movies. This isn’t the hood. You don’t hold a gun sideways like that,” she said pointing to an extra who was practicing. “You hold it with arms stretched out, and straight in front of you.”

Spelling looked at the man and made a little “aha” sound. “Come with me.”

He led her to the set and called the cast over. “Annie, can you show them what you just told me, please.”

“Sure.” For the next few moments Annie showed them. As they practiced, she corrected their stance. “That’s good, Rocco,” she said, and repeated it to a few others who seemed comfortable with their weapons. “Now you all look legit.”

“Can you stick close by? I want this scene to look perfect. It’s the culmination of everything up to this point. This is where Mendoza got away and where we get a really good idea of how much bloodshed there actually was.”

“Yeah, sure.” She slid into a chair and sat next to Spelling.

She watched them work. Rocco was a natural. God, she missed him. They’d barely spoken. They were amicable toward each other and it wasn’t exactly as if they’d been ignoring one another, it was just that they didn’t have a moment to really talk. And they really needed to talk.

Every morning, she woke up blanketed by his arms wrapped tightly around her, and he kissed her cheek and even her lips. But they hadn’t had sex again and there was a clear distance coming from them both. Saying it didn’t hurt was a lie.

She leaned over to Spelling. “You see how Julia just fired? If she was a novice, which her character is . . . if the first time she holds a gun is to protect herself and her husband, then when she fires, she would not be prepared for the recoil.”

“Cut! Julia!” Spelling hollered. “Over here, please.”

He motioned for Annie to explain.

“Have you ever fired a real weapon before?”

Annoyingly she said, “No.”

“Okay, so when you shoot a weapon, especially something of that caliber, you’re going to feel a big recoil. So, maybe take a big step back after you press the trigger and remember that the force would propel your arms up.” They continued to practice and when they began to shoot the scene, Spelling had Annie look into the small screen next to him and give her input. When she made a suggestion he listened and asked her to help make it look factual.

And it was fun.

For that evening, she actually let her guard down a little and felt really useful and in charge. If there was one thing she knew how to do, and do well, was handle a weapon.

At the end of the evening, when they were back in the hotel suite, Rocco grabbed her arm and spun her to him. “You were great today. You looked like you were in your element and the crew responded well.”

“Thank you. I liked it. It was fun.”

He moved the hair from her face. “I’ve missed you.”

“God, I’ve missed you too.” She finally released a breath and pressed her cheek against his chest. “What are we going to do? I can’t go back and sit behind a desk all day. But I also want to be with you.”

“And I don’t want a bodyguard. I want you as a partner.”

“Let’s just take it one day at a time, deal?”

“Deal.”

She got on the tips of her toes and kissed his lips.

“Now let’s talk about how hot you look handling a weapon and getting all commando on the team today?”

“One minute you want some sort of demure bubbly girl by your side and the next you’re telling me my badassness turns you on?”

“Hey now, I never said anything about a bubbly girl.” He pulled her shirt over her head. “I love that you’re tough, opinionated, can handle yourself, can handle me. I just don’t want you to get hurt, is all.”

“What if I was a firefighter, I could get hurt.”

“I wouldn’t like it either,” he admitted. “Call me old-fashioned, but I just want to protect you. I just want you to come to me. It’s not that I want you to quit your job.” He sighed. “We’re at it again.”

“Okay, we’ll table this conversation until this movie is over.”

“Speaking of table,” he lifted her up and sat her on the table. “Do you know how hard it’s been to have you wiggling your ass against my cock for the last two nights?”

“I didn’t wiggle!”

“Maybe not consciously.” He reached around her and undid her bra, and she let it fall down her arms to the floor. He took one nipple into her mouth and then the other. “So perfect, so pink. Probably the only pink thing you own.”

She laughed. “Nope. There’s something else.”

He stepped away and pushed her legs apart and then cupped her sex.

“No, pervert. That’s not what I meant.”

When he nipped at her nipple again she forgot what they had been talking about. She wasn’t experienced but that didn’t mean she didn’t have needs or desires. She knew what felt good and maybe she didn’t yet know how to voice what she wanted, but she knew, without any doubt, that he did and he’d get her there, which made it that much better. In the bedroom she didn’t have to think or worry, she let him take full control knowing that she wouldn’t regret it.