“This way,” said Theresa Sanchez, one of the housekeepers, hurrying through the dark toward the apartment complex.

Mia tightened her grip on the first aid kit. “When did they get back?” Awaken from a deep sleep, her head was still foggy.

“Five minutes ago.”

“Was anyone else hurt?”

“I don’t know…I don’t think so.” Theresa opened the door to her apartment and headed inside. “Hurry.”

Her husband backed away from a bedroom door. “Hola, chica.”

Mia gave the man a nod as she stepped inside. Moaning, Bruno lay atop a twin bed—but she didn’t expect to see Luke sitting beside the boy holding a blood-soaked towel to his head.

Luke glanced back. “Thank God you’re here. I think I’ve stopped the bleeding. He needs antibiotics—do you have some?” he asked in English.

In a blink, Mia’s attention reverted to the boy on the bed. “Yes.” She set the kit on the bedside table, the clock read 3:07 a.m. “What happened?”

“Ambush.”

“I told him he was too young to go out with Juan and the others, but he didn’t listen,” said Theresa, wringing her hands and sniffing.

Luke looked back. “Why is he even here? He’s just a kid.”

“His family is here. I’m a housekeeper for El Padrino and my husband is a groundskeeper.”

Luke eyed her. “My guess is there are a lot of safer places to work.”

The housemaid shook her head. “No—”

Mia tapped Luke’s hand. “Let me have a look at the wound.”

When he pulled back the towel, she hissed. “Gah! It looks like someone cut a trench along his temple.”

Luke reapplied the towel. “He was bloody lucky if you ask me—grazed by a .25-caliber rifle bullet.”

“Am I going to die?” Bruno asked weakly.

“No, mate. Mia’s here now, she’ll fix you up.” Luke’s gaze shifted to her face and he looked her in the eye with an expression filled with trust and expectation. He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “You got this.”

And there was no time to waste, no matter how much the butterflies in her stomach fluttered. It wasn’t often she heard words of encouragement. Pulling out a spray bottle of iodine solution, she gave a nod. “Remove the dressing.”

As she cleansed the wound, Luke was right there tearing open gauze and sopping up the residue. “Are you in pain?” she asked.

Bruno nodded. “Half my head feels like it’s been blown off.”

“Well, you can rest assured that hasn’t happened,” Luke said while he handed her another gauze bandage and she carefully dabbed the wound, looking at it closely. “You’re lucky the bullet didn’t crack your skull, mate.”

Deciding against trying to stitch it, she took the next bandage from Luke and held it in place while the Aussie pulled out the medical tape like he could read her mind. “I’ll give you something to help you sleep and a shot of antibiotics, but you’re going to have to stay in bed for a while—and no more sorties with El Padrino’s men.”

“Did you hear that, Bruno?” asked Theresa. “No more. You must tend the grounds with your padre. Listen to your madre. My son is not cut out for a life of violence and guns.”

“Listen to your mum, mate. She knows what she’s talking about.”

“What’s that?” El Padrino stepped into the doorway.

Mia immediately tensed.

Luke jumped to his feet, backing away from the bed. “Señor.”

Theresa clapped her fingers to her lips and bowed her head. “El Padrino, you honor us.”

Mia tore the packaging away from the injection pen and looked away. The woman was worried out of her mind, and yet as soon as The Godfather entered the room, Theresa treated him like a god. Worse, Luke practically dove for the far wall as if Mia were contagious.

El Padrino squinted at the Australian. “Juan tells me the boy has come through his initiation like a champion.”

White lines formed around Luke’s pursed lips. “It might have been a little too soon for Bruno to go on a raid. He told me he’s only seventeen.”

The overlord batted his hand through the air. “I started much younger. And now that this hombre has a battle scar, it’s no time to stop his progress.”

The room grew quiet while Mia’s shoulders tensed. She hated the power El Padrino wielded over everyone. When Luke immediately backed away, it was as if someone threw up an invisible brick wall. “Theresa, will you please bring me a glass of water?” she asked, selecting a bottle of pain medication while The Godfather moved behind her and smoothed his hands over her hair, his touch heavy and coarse.

“The men are lucky to have you, my pet,” he said, his words like a rasp on the back of her neck.

“They are. She’d make a good medic,” said Luke, stepping toward the door. “If you’ll excuse me—”

“I need you at the airfield in the morning. Nine-thirty.”

“Where to, sir?”

El Padrino ushered Luke into the hallway. “I’ll tell you when you need to know.”

“Yes, sir.”

Theresa returned with the glass of water and Mia helped Bruno hold his head up to take the medicine. “I’ll sit with him until he falls asleep.”

***

Coming to consciousness, Luke’s senses immersed in hot sex—the prelude anyway. With his every breath, the heady fragrance of female enveloped him, called to him, made him crave more. Unwilling to open his eyes, warm lips brushed his, pillowy lips as soft as rose petals.

“Lucas,” the sultry voice called his name—but not the name he preferred.

“Mm,” he sighed, moving his hands up and down the arc of the temptress’ waist.

She kissed him again, this time slipping her tongue inside his mouth and swirling—slow, sensuous, making him hard.

“Are you awake?” she asked.

“Mm hmm.” Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and looked up into the most desirable blues he’d ever seen. Silky brunette hair surrounded him, trapping a wickedly erotic scent that drove him wild. Luke’s mouth went dry. If it weren’t for the blankets separating them, he’d already have her stripped bare and riding him like a brumby mare.

If only he didn’t have a job to do.

But he did.

Grinding his teeth, he struggled to force himself to make a tough decision, albeit the right one. “Mia.” His voice cracked with the dregs of sleep while he grasped her shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “What are you doing here?”

“Bruno is sleeping. There’s nothing more I can do…and…and I couldn’t bring myself to go back to the house without seeing you.”

Shit.

Luke wanted to see her, too. He wanted to hold her, kiss her, protect her. It had torn him apart when Morales walked into the room and he suddenly had hide his feelings by acting like an asshole.

“Look,” he said, sitting up and shifting her to the side while the blanket dropped and exposed his naked torso. “You can’t just come to my flat any time you feel like it. I know the bastard hurt you and there’s no question that he’ll do it again or worse.”

“I don’t care. I like you. You make me feel—”

He shouldn’t ask. “Like…?”

“Like I’m someone else.”

“That’s nice, sweetheart, but what do you think will happen if I let this—” He spread his palms, gesturing between them. “Whatever it is—to continue? You’ll be beaten to within an inch of your life and I’ll be shot.”

She chewed the side of her lip. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about. But still, I have a job to do, and it doesn’t include taking a risk with the boss’ girl.”

“I’m not his girl.”

“You could have fooled me.”

“No, I’m not!”

He wanted to chuckle at her innocent banter. Come to think of it, he’d never heard her utter a single curse. “Maybe not, but you’re his property.”

Curling her spine, an anguished cry filled the room as she hid her face in her hands. “I hate my life.”

“How did you end up here?’

Her shoulders stiffened. “I can’t talk about it.”

“Forget I asked.” He swiped a hand over his eyes. “But you’re willing to take a chance and come into my flat—a man’s flat. A man who works for that tyrant.”

“He won’t find out.”

“No? My guess is he will.”

“But I’m careful. I know how to avoid the cameras.”

“Right. If you’re so stealthy, then what makes you think he’ll know you told me about your dodgy past?”

“He just will. I can’t talk about it. Not now. Not ever.”

“Bloody oath, you need to go back to the ivory tower before you’re missed.” He glanced at the clock. “It’ll be daylight in an hour.”

“I’ll go, but only if you promise you’re still going to teach me yoga.”

“Has El Padrino given his consent?”

“Not yet. I need to wait until he’s in a good mood.”

“That happens?”

She smiled. “On occasion.”

“Maybe it’s best if you just forget about it.”

“No, no, no. You can’t turn cold just like everyone else.”

“There’s a reason everyone steers clear of you, and that’s to keep their heart beating.”

“But you’re stronger than everyone else.”

“Not so much. I like breathing as much as the next bloke. Besides, I need to get on Morales’ good side.”

“Why?”

“I need him to pay me so I can get out of this business before I end up dead.” Luke stood and pulled Mia to her feet. “And you need to stop coming to see me.”

“But I like you.”

“I wish I could say the same.” As the words escaped his lips, his heart felt like he’d just committed hari-kari with a samurai sword. He gulped down a swallow. “I mean it. You have to go back to the house and forget we ever met.”

***

Mia didn’t allow herself to cry until she was hidden under the covers in her bed. What did she need to do to show Lucas how much she cared for him? And if she wasn’t careful, she’d lose him forever. It had to be enough to see him on the grounds. It had to be enough to steal brief moments of conversation with him. Goodness, he spoke English. Did he have any idea how liberating it was to finally have a chance to speak in her native tongue? Darn it, El Padrino had taken everything from her. For the first time in her life, she’d met someone who could stand up to The Godfather, someone who was strong and smart. And she felt as though with their every meeting, he was slipping further and further away because of El Padrino’s threats.

The Godfather is an evil murderer.

And on the other side of the hacienda there was the pilot. He said he was a bad man, but she didn’t believe it. Deep in his heart he was good and kind. Look at what he’d done for Bruno. None of the others had carried the boy to his bedside. No one else had been there to help her tend the boy’s wound.

Heaven help her, Lucas felt too yummy in her arms. But he’d pushed her away—told her to stay in her ivory tower.

Ivory prison.

He was right. She was naïve. She acted like a foolish child, dreaming about things that could never be. How stupid she’d been to think of snatching a moment of happiness for herself. She was El Padrino’s property, and the sooner she stopped trying to fight it, the easier her life would be.

She moaned out loud. Accepting her lot didn’t make her feel any better. A hollow cavern stretched through her chest. Her life was empty, devoid of love. Her happiness had been stolen. Her childhood had been stolen. Mia’s heart ached like El Padrino had reached inside and ripped it out. Except this time the person who delivered the punishment was someone she thought she cared for, someone she thought she respected. Lucas Lewis was hot and cold and impossible to understand.

At first, when she’d snuck into his room and kissed him, he’d been responsive, at rest and peaceful. The other times when he’d kissed her, he’d been passionate as well. At times, he looked at her with eyes that expressed deep-seated hunger. She knew deep down he liked her. Maybe not as much as she liked him, but they had an undeniable connection. She’d sensed it every time their gazes met, even every time they were in the same room. And it wasn’t just her. He had feelings for her, he was just too worried about earning money to give in.

If only he were different. If only they could run away together.

When he’d first opened his sleepy eyes, they were filled with warmth and welcoming. His expression told her he was happy to see her.

And then something suddenly changed, as if one of El Padrino’s threats was right in front of his face. Lucas tried to sound gruff, but Mia knew he was acting—at least she thought he was…until he called her the boss’ girl. Mia’s throat burned as she muffled her sobs. Why did this happen to her? What would her life be like if the bad men hadn’t kidnapped her? And now she was trapped in hell.

Why can’t he just accept that I am here? That I have no past.

Mia rocked back and forth, clutching the pillow to her chest. How would she ask El Padrino to let her learn yoga? He didn’t let her do anything—no friends, no computers, no driving, no school, no phone. She was just supposed to read, watch TV and eat mangoes.

But she wasn’t about to forget about Lucas’ offer to teach her yoga. She wanted to learn how to be strong, how to be like Wonder Woman. And most of all, she wanted to be close to Lucas, even if she couldn’t touch him or kiss him.

When the pilot had stood up to The Godfather after she’d suffered the crown of pain, Lucas had given her hope. No matter how miniscule, the man showed her someone could be strong enough to make El Padrino back down.

While Mia wallowed in misery, her bed shuddered with the roar of a plane flying low overhead. Lucas was leaving with El Padrino. Where were they going? How long would they be gone?

Please come back to me, flyboy. Please don’t forget me like everyone else I have ever cared about.