Since Vincent Morales still hadn’t showed, Luke took advantage of the time to do some snooping. Besides, nothing like using his newbie status as an excuse to poke around where he shouldn’t. Security was behind a door marked “área restrigida”. Though he was ushered out almost as soon as he’d stepped inside, he’d had enough time to check out the onsite computers, a dozen monitors displaying pictures of the hacienda, and beside the door was a rack containing a line of AK-47 assault rifles.

Finding security didn’t surprise him but, in his brief assessment, he was surprised not more areas were under surveillance. Maybe Morales thought he was untouchable hidden deep in the heart of Guadalupe y Calvo, surrounded by loyal families who were all indebted to the drug lord in one way or another. On the other hand, one wall displayed an enormous satellite picture with the type of detail that would only be from a GeoEye satellite.

Pricey.

Luke also stocked his fridge with beer and power drinks. Meals for the workers were served in a cafeteria in the basement of the apartments which suited him. Obviously, Mia ate at the house, which made the cafeteria all the more tempting. Not having to cook and staying away from the diva was smart.

By the second morning, the big boss still hadn’t returned. It was time for Luke to stop lazing about and start an exercise routine. He rose at 6 a.m. and went for a run which gave him a chance to learn the layout of the hacienda from the ground. After an hour of working up a sweat, he headed for the employee pool behind the block of flats. It was nearly Olympic sized with a cabana and workout room.

He dove into the pool, starting a fifty-lap marathon.

It was a pretty cushy life being a goon for Morales—as long as a man stayed on the overlord’s good side. Luke hadn’t figured out how to do that yet—there hadn’t been a chance. Heeding the man’s warning about Mia was at the top of the list, though he still had no idea what prompted Morales to try to try to kill him. He’d find out soon enough. In the meantime, he’d observe and learn. No, the local boys hadn’t befriended him. But camaraderie would come in time as well. So far, whenever Luke had shown his face, he’d been met with leers of suspicion.

He occasionally heard muffled comments which hadn’t been meant for his ears. At least no one had tried to shoot him.

Yet.

Fifty laps done, Luke climbed out of the pool, feeling like new life had been breathed into every fiber of his body. And after a swim, he liked to air dry. He’d grown up on a beach, and there was something special about steeling his mind to the chill while the breeze cooled his wet skin as he worked through a martial arts form. He chose one that was especially long. One that usually showed off his kicks and speed—though he’d not be going all out if anyone happened to be watching. He focused on precision, working slower than usual. He doubted there were any martial arts experts on El Padrino’s payroll, but when surrounded by the enemy, one never showed the extent of his might.

He executed a flying backwards roundhouse kick and landed in a crouch.

Movement caught his eye.

Damn.

Mia stood at the edge of the pool, wearing a black bikini. She watched him with her shoulders back, looking like a goddess—full breasts, slim waist, curvy hips, and legs that were too delicious not to imagine them wrapped around his body. Oh yeah, that woman should be flat on her back and naked. If things were different, he’d take her by the hand, find the nearest bed and show her what it was like to be worshiped—to be pleasured in every way imaginable.

As their gazes locked, Mia’s lips parted. The intensity of her stare was like a challenge, willing him to put his thoughts into action.

Luke stood motionless while his heart hammered a steady rhythm, beating a savage cadence, daring him to act on his primal instincts.

The temptress broke the spell by diving into the pool. A skilled swimmer, she moved through the water barely making a splash. Against every logical bone in his body, he wanted to jump in and discover her under the water. To brush his fingers over that silken skin. To slide his hand into that slim strip of cloth between her legs. God help him, his knees melted.

***

By the time Mia reached the far end of the pool, Lucas was gone. Darn, it would have been such a good opportunity to talk to him again—just to check on his wounds, of course. She’d worried about him all the previous day. No one was around and security didn’t have many cameras set up in the employee areas. There was just one camera at the gate to the pool. Once employees entered, The Godfather didn’t care what they got up to.

Every time she finished a lap, she stopped and made a quick scan for Lucas. On her fifth, she spied movement in the weight room. A swarm of butterflies swirled in her stomach. He’s still here.

Quickly, she checked to ensure there was no one around, then she slipped out of the pool and dashed inside.

Sitting on a stool with an enormous dumbbell in his hand. The man’s bicep bulged like a melon while he levered the weight upward. As the door closed behind her, he glanced up. Dusky blue eyes met her gaze with a questioning arch to his brow. But Mia’s stare didn’t linger on his face. Her tongue slipped to the corner of her mouth as her eyes meandered down to tanned skin, hard male, and a delectable swirl of blond hair on his chest. Lucas lowered the weight, the movement making the muscles in his abdomen ripple. Holy heck, he had muscles in places she’d never imagined.

He stood and grabbed a towel. “You’re dripping all over the floor.”

Mia took it. “Am I?” she asked, breathless. Glancing downward, she realized he was right. She hadn’t even thought to dry off or don her cover up, and now she stood there with water pooling around her feet and goosebumps rising everywhere. She quickly rubbed her arms and back, then wrapped the towel around her waist.

Lucas watched her as if he were studying a sculpture. “You’re a good swimmer.”

The goosebumps rose tenfold. “Thank you…ah…” Why did she always feel so awkward when he looked at her? So tingly all over? Unable to help herself, Mia let her gaze again slide to his abdomen. “W-w…what was the dance you were doing by the pool?”

“A martial arts form—kind of a combination of different disciplines.”

“Do you mean disciplines like karate?”

“Mm hmm. And jujitsu, kung-fu, judo. That sort of thing.”

“It looked mesmerizing. Which do you like best?”

He shrugged. “I suppose I like them all, but I started with karate.”

“Well, I thought you looked like a professional dancer.” She chewed the corner of her mouth, a hundred wishes filling her head. “Would you teach me?”

He stared at her for a moment, his face expressionless, but those pale blue eyes homed in like a leopard. “Mastering martial arts takes a lifetime.”

She frowned, her shoulders dropping. “Oh.”

“Though…” He rubbed his neck and glanced away. “I could give you some basics if El Padrino approves.”

Groaning, she rolled her eyes and ran her fingers over her wet ponytail. The Godfather had to approve everything. Yes, the housekeepers always made comments about how Mia should be grateful to be living in such grand style, but what they didn’t see was a fancy prison—hell with expensive trappings and invisible shackles. She couldn’t breathe without El Padrino’s permission, and he so often didn’t give it. At the age of twenty-one, she didn’t have a driver’s license—or any identification for that matter. She wasn’t even allowed to drive a car. Puttering around Hacienda Paraiso in a golf cart was supposed to satisfy her. Her only education was garnered from the books in the hacienda’s library—she knew she was ignorant, uneducated and people like Lucas probably thought she was stupid—that is if she knew people like Lucas. She didn’t have friends. The guards were all beasts and treated her like a glass doll who couldn’t be touched.

If only she could be friends with Lucas. He was young—older, but not all that much older. He was smart, a pilot, and obviously had many worldly experiences. And he certainly was pleasant to look at. True, Mia could spend hours staring at him, or drawing him, or talking to him, or—dare she think it—holding hands with him. If only El Padrino would give his permission for Lucas to teach her karate, she’d be able to spend time getting to know Lucas and not have to be sneaky about it.

“How old are you?” she asked, the words blurting past her lips before she had a chance to think about how immature the question sounded.

“Thirty.” He tipped up his chin. “And you?”

“Twenty-one.”

He smiled—warm, friendly, sexy. “Just a babe.”

Squaring her shoulders, she raised her chin. “I’m a legal adult.”

He chuckled, as if not convinced. “But a sheltered one. I’ll bet you don’t get out much.”

She pursed her lips. “How can I when El Padrino must approve everything?”

His expression grew serious. “What happened to you? How did you end up here?”

“Sh!” Glancing both ways, she gulped. Thank God no one was around. “Don’t ever ask.”

“Why?”

“Because if I tell anyone, he’ll kill me.”

“For talking about your past?”

“No.” She pushed him away, shaking her head. “I can’t. I cannot. I swear!”

He held up his palms. “No worries. Jeez, you don’t have to tell me.”

Turning her back, Mia pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. Darn it, she didn’t want to start crying. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, love.” A warm, masculine hand slid onto her shoulder. It was callused and weighty and felt wonderfully protective.

Love? Mia couldn’t remember anyone ever calling her love—though he’d done it a few times now. A flood of yearning surged through her, filling her with more emotion than she could bear. Gasping, she spun and flung her arms around him, clutching him tight, hanging on to him for dear life and pressing her head against his wall of a chest. Gosh, he felt so powerful and secure—nothing like El Padrino.

Her insides turned gooey as his strong arms surrounded her. “Hey there,” he whispered into her temple, his warm breath soothing. “Are you all right?”

“No.” How could she tell him she wanted him to be her guard? How could she tell him how much she wanted to be near him? Goodness’ sakes, she barely knew the man, but there was something about him, something so completely unlike anyone she’d ever met. He might have done some bad things, but the substance in the intensity of his stare made her trust him. He made her want to know more about him, to be with him. Ever since she met him in the jail she lay awake at night thinking about Lucas Lewis—about how he looked, his sharp pale eyes, his commanding presence, the way his eyelashes shuttered his eyes when he’d languidly looked her over from head to toe. She’d even dreamed about how it would feel to have him in her arms like a lover, which is something she should never allow herself to do. Not ever.

“You’re shaking,” he said, rubbing his hand up and down her back in a rhythmic motion that made her want to stay there forever. “Something’s bothering you.”

“This just feels so good. No one has ever cared before.”

“Ever?”

Mia shook her head. “Not in this life.” Yes, she had a family once, but scarcely remembered them. And she doubted they remembered her. They probably gave up hope years and years ago.

Lucas kissed her temple. Lips so gentle and soft, the soothing sensation made her close her eyes and sigh. “Where are you from, Mia?”

Her body stiffened. She told him she couldn’t talk about her past. No matter how much she wanted to let it all out and tell him everything, she couldn’t form the words on her lips. That was the biggest thing El Padrino would not abide. There would be no second chances if she told a soul at Hacienda Paraiso about where she’d come from—about her family, her real name. She couldn’t even tell anyone about the hell she’d lived in for seven years before The Godfather brought her to his home. The horrible things she had been forced to do as a child. Dear God, she should be happy at Hacienda Paraiso. Yes, it was a prison but as long as she obeyed the rules, she was free from harm.

Regaining her composure, Mia pushed him away. “Forgive me. I should not have allowed my emotions to show.”

Lucas’ eyes sparkled with concern as he cupped her cheek in his palm. “I know things can’t be easy for you. But I hope you feel like you can trust me.”

“I do. Oddly.” She took a step back. “Probably too much. There’s something about you that stirs me—you’re different.”

“Yeah, well I’m not a Mexican for starters.”

She shook her head. “That has nothing to do with it. There are good and bad people everywhere. But most of the people who work for El Padrino are ruthless.”

His jaw twitched. “You don’t think I’m ruthless? If you recall, the first time we met was in a prison.”

“It may have been, and you may have been involved in something horrible, but I know you have a good heart.” She raked her teeth over her bottom lip. If Mia stayed there any longer, she’d end up in some serious hot water. Lucas reached for her hand but she backed toward the door and shook her palms. “I have to go.”