Ricardo, Antonio Wayne, Juanita, and Roxanne had assembled in Ricardo’s office behind closed doors. Just outside hovered a bodyguard with shoulders so broad he had barely fit through the doorframe when he had stepped inside to alert Ricardo to his presence.
What was going on inside the office was none of his business; making sure no one entered the space was his present station in life. His arms were crossed in front of him and his gaze was fixed on nothing in particular, yet he saw everything. He took his job seriously—better that than to suffer at the business end of Antonio Wayne’s whip. He shuddered at the thought.
There had been whispers throughout the household ever since that last incident and he had seen firsthand what Antonio’s handiwork had left behind in the form of scars. His colleague Arturo would carry those scars the rest of his life. But one thing was for damn sure: Arturo would take his job more seriously now.
Yes, there would be no falling asleep on his watch, no lack of focus. Better to learn from another man’s careless mistakes than to suffer at the hands – or whip – of a card-carrying sadist.
“I’m telling you, this was no chance meeting,” Juanita declared. Ricardo couldn’t help but smile at his wife’s persistence and determination. For her part, Juanita was fuming as she stood in front of his desk with her arms crossed over her chest in a show of stubbornness. You’d think by now she’d know that all that ever did was make him hungry for her tits. He’d delight in reminding her when the opportunity presented itself.
“Rubia… Have a seat, my love.” His pet name for her slid off his tongue like melted butter. Juanita never tired of hearing that sexy deep voice. The slight smile on his face reached his eyes; something unusual for any of the Ramirez men.
She uncrossed her arms and reluctantly sat down next to Roxanne with a small huff of resignation.
“Rubia, you of all people should know I leave nothing to chance. I’ve never believed that was a chance meeting.”
“I don’t know why we don’t have that fucker Escondido on the other end of my whip. These fucking Sinaloans are beginning to get on my nerves,” Antonio Wayne spoke for the first time.
Ricardo’s eyes never left his wife as he turned his head slightly toward his brother and replied, “Never one for diplomacy, eh, Antonio?”
At the dig directed at her husband, a small snicker escaped Roxanne’s lips. She could immediately feel the heat of her husband’s glare but, as hard as she tried to hide her amusement, she just couldn’t. She knew she’d pay for it later in the bedroom. At the thought of what that might entail, she shifted in her seat, crossing her legs in a vain attempt to soothe her suddenly sensitive clit. As he watched her restless movements, Antonio Wayne began subtly stroking the arm of his chair, his fingertips making small circles on the supple leather as a small smile tilted his lips.
Ricardo’s voice pulled Antonio Wayne’s attention back to the matter at hand. “Escondido is not the cause of the Sinaloans running amok, but he may be the fucking solution. The problem will be dealt with accordingly, all in good time. Patience, my brother.”
Antonio Wayne leaned in, speaking through gritted teeth. “My wife’s life, your wife’s life, were both put in danger. Maybe Escondido needs to stop being Mr. Elusive, sitting in the shadows, and do his fucking job. I can tell you right now, if I have to go do it,” he shook his head menacingly as he leaned back in his chair, “it won’t be pretty.”
Though Ricardo chuckled softly, the look he gave his brother was direct and decisive. There were few people Antonio Wayne respected and even fewer he feared—his older brother was at the top of that list. This time it was Ricardo who leaned forward, invading his little brother’s space. He nodded in the women’s direction as his piercing gaze stayed on his brother.
“What, you think they’re scared? Those two? That’s almost fucking funny, little brother. I’m not scared for those two. Fuck no, I’m scared for the punks who tried to jack their SUV.”
Antonio Wayne took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he settled deeper into his chair. Ricardo was certain he had his attention now, adding, “Here’s what we’re going to do, little brother. We’re sending the women out again, but this time undercover.” Ricardo paused when he saw the angry tick in his little brother’s jaw. “You set those three women loose and they won’t just find those two gangbangers, they’ll be the key to taking them down.”
This time it was Juanita who laughed as she glanced over at a framed photo of Victor. “It should be interesting to see how your son reacts to this little tidbit of information.”
“So…now he’s my son?”
“When it comes to matters of obsession and abduction, he’s always your son, my love.” She smiled demurely as if it would soften the blow.
“I’ll deal with my son, my love,” he replied softly, his voice almost too quiet.
“Of course, you will. I’m counting on that. God knows no one else can.”.
“Ah, my little Rubia, you deal with our troublemaking females and I’ll deal with the overly obsessive males of the species, and together we’ll do what we always do.”
They shared a secret smile as they spoke in unison. “Take out the enemy.”
“You think that’s funny? You think I’m funny?”
The heat coming off Antonio Wayne’s body was nothing compared to the malevolent heat of his coal black eyes boring into her. It didn’t matter how many years they were married, he turned her on beyond all rational thought. But there was no need to make her need for him so obvious. Roxanne’s ability to keep her cartel husband guessing was the secret of their long, deliciously stormy relationship.
“Oh, don’t be so intense, Antonio Wayne, you know I meant you no disrespect.”
“It doesn’t have a fucking thing to do with disrespect. You play too damn much. You learned a time ago, Roxanne, that you fuck with me at your own risk. You’re playing with fire!”
“Mmm,” she purred as she snuggled up against his powerful frame, “I do so love the heat of a cozy little fireplace in the winter, and we both know you’re one cold son of a bitch.”
“My heat is only for you, my little troublemaking wife.”
It wasn’t a sweet response; it was the raw truth that held them together and preserved their bond. It took a certain kind of woman to be married to a man in the Colombian cartel, and a white picket fence had never been part of their plans.
He cradled her face in his hands, studying every nuance of her features, noting the fine lines and other subtle changes that so vexed her but, in his opinion, only enhanced her beauty. “You really are spectacular. So. Fucking. Beautiful. My Roxanne.”
“And you’re so severe and enigmatic.”
His eyes narrowed. “Enigmatic? What, do you need a roadmap at this point? I would hope after all the years we’ve spent together, you of all people would be able to read me.” He leaned in and with a hoarse whisper predicted her future. “I think we both know what’s about to happen. You won’t know how and you won’t know when, but I’m coming for you, Roxanne. And when I do I will lay waste to any confusion you may have about my feelings for you.”
With that, he kissed her chastely on the forehead and left the room, leaving her body aching for his possession and tingling with anticipation. The threat would linger in her subconscious mind, teasing her relentlessly until he chose to make it her reality.