Chapter Four

Calli met Nick halfway down the stairs that led up to the third floor, where their bed was tucked behind sheets that quartered the cramped room so others could sleep there, too.

He smiled as he saw her, yet she could see the tiredness in his eyes and in the way he held his shoulders.

“You wear a jacket on a night like this?” he asked.

“There’s a reason for that.” She picked up his hand and as always, the fact that she was free to reach out and touch him as she pleased sent a small thrill through her. Three months’ worth of nights had passed and still she was not used to it. “Come with me.”

When he didn’t move straight away, she cocked her head. “It’ll be worth it.”

Mischief sparkled in his eyes, banishing the tiredness. “Only if you loosen your hair.”

She pulled the elastic from the end of the braid and separated the locks until they hung loose. She pushed the mass off her shoulder. “Now will you come with me?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

When she reached the end of the wooden walk that led to the private beach, they both halted when the sentry challenged them quietly in Spanish. Calli’s Spanish was getting better every day, only Nick needed to give them this order, not her, so she turned to him.

“Ask them to pull back to the inner compound gates and stay there until we come back.”

He considered this for a moment then reached out and patted her ribs. His hand slapped against the pistol nestled under her arm. “I see,” he said. He lifted his voice and gave the order as she had asked and the sentry in front of them called to his two companions. They nodded as they passed Nick, trotting up to the high fence that barricaded the walk from the house proper.

Calli took Nick’s hand once more and led him down to the sandy beach. There was little light. The moon was a thin slice and low in the sky. Yet the waves had a glowing luminescence that guided them to the water’s edge.

“If it doesn’t offend you,” Nick said, “I’ll take the gun.”

“I was hoping you’d offer,” Calli said, thankfully stripping the jacket off and slipping out of the harness. The beach was a private one, yet there was nothing to stop Serrano from landing a flotilla of armed men if he wanted to. Nick kept sentries on the beach only to raise an early alarm. He rigidly insisted that no one else use the beach. It was too dangerous.

It made the white, sandy bay one of the few private locations on the whole estate.

She handed the gun over and Nick slipped the holster off the harness and clipped it over his belt instead.

“I have been practicing,” she told him.

“Which is reassuring. You’ve never shot a live target, though.” Nick checked the load in the gun, then lifted his head. “I hope you never will have to. For now, I will carry the gun. I like you better without that bulky jacket, anyway.”

She was wearing a T-shirt that was too short for her long torso. It ended above her hips. The jeans were low-rise—the same jeans that, four months ago, she had been wearing when she arrived in Vistaria. The night she had met Nick.

She put her hands on her hips. “You would like it better this way.”

“Is that the silver buckle I gave you?”

“Yes.” She was pleased he remembered it.

“You brought that out of Vistaria? You were carrying nothing but a pouch on your hip.”

“All the essentials,” she assured him. “Passport, wallet, papers.”

“And the buckle.”

“And the buckle,” she agreed. “I couldn’t fit the shoes in, but I tried.”

Nick gave a low chuckle. “I think some of Vistaria’s sentimentality is rubbing off on you.”

“Just you, Nicolás,” she said softly. “Just you.”

He reached for her and Calli danced nimbly out of his reach. He looked surprised and lunged for her again. She dodged again and stood just out of his reach, her hands on her hips. She cocked her head at him. “Slow, Nicky. Slow. So much for the vaunted Red Leopard.”

She could see his eyes narrow even in that low light. The gleam in them shaded. “You know, I’ve had a whole day of trying to get things done and having people slip out from under my grip.”

Calli kept her expression neutral, though she already knew from Josh and others in the household that Nick’s day had been more than usually frustrating. “Awwww, poor baby. Losing your grip, Escobedo?” It was a deliberate taunt.

He lunged again and almost had her. It was only because she was ready for his move that she escaped him. As it was, the closeness made her gasp. Her heart pounded. Nick Escobedo, even tired and distracted, was fast indeed.

She danced away again and teased him with a laugh. “Too slooow,” she crooned.

“¡Ahora le tendré!”

Calli couldn’t help the high, gasping shriek that escaped her as she turned and ran down the beach as if her life depended on it. She could hear Nick pounding after her, very close. It gave her speed. She knew Nick would soon catch her, but for a few moments she kept ahead.

Calli could feel herself beginning to tire. That was when Nick caught her. He didn’t tackle her from behind or grab her arm. He scooped his arm around her waist and lifted her right off her feet. At that pace, though, the momentum was too much even for a man of Nick’s strength and speed. They toppled into the soft dry sand and rolled over.

Calli struggled to be free. She pushed at his shoulder, kicked and wriggled. She could hear his breath, heavy and broken, as he worked to overcome her struggles. There was an odd sort of pleasure in the struggle. Nick was using little of his full power against her, yet the idea of him using brute strength to overcome her made her belly ripple with growing arousal.

She gave a small, breathless exhalation as he grabbed her arms and threw himself on top of her to keep her still. He was breathing deep and steadily while her chest heaved. “What is this, mi dama fuerte?”

“Bully. Want to get off me?” She heaved with her hips and almost dislodged him.

Nick swore under his breath and straddled her hips, clamping them with his knees, his hands still anchoring her wrists in the sand. He looked down at her and even in the little light available, she could see the sexual heat in his eyes. He had responded to her mood.

“Take off your shirt,” she said. Her voice was husky.

“And leave your hands free? Do I trust you?”

“Your choice.”

He brought her wrists together, clamped his hand around both and used the other to pull the short-sleeved shirt right over his head. He shrugged one arm out of it before moving her wrists to the other hand and dropping the shirt to the sand.

Calli stared at the rounded caps of his shoulders, the gleam and shadow play over his chest. Nick Escobedo was a fine man indeed. Watching him, Calli felt a liquid heat spread through her. She couldn’t help the sinfully proud thought; And he wants me.

Nick returned her hands to the sand, holding them down easily. When she tested his grip, it tightened just enough to still her movements. “What is this, my long, tall lady? What has inspired this mood?”

“Why should I tell you?” She struggled again, but it was a pathetic movement, made helpless by the powerful arousal shooting through her. She wanted Nick to tear her jeans from her. She wanted to be plundered in the most archaic way. Portraying reluctance was becoming more difficult by the moment.

Nick rode out her struggles easily, watching her. “I see,” he said. His voice was low and thick with his own driving need. She recognized it and shivered in anticipation.

He leaned down to kiss her and she averted her face.

“Are you sure you want to play this game?” he asked, his voice soft. He sounded dangerous.

Calli did wonder if she was being wise. There were undercurrents in Nick’s voice that she didn’t understand. Before she could reconsider, Nick dipped his head and kissed her. His teeth nipped the delicate flesh of her lip. Calli groaned, racked by a burst of pleasure.

Now Nick was playing by his own rules. His exquisite torture did not let up for a moment. He seduced her with hard, rough movements. He knew her every weakness and delight and he spared her nothing.

Calli lost track of all but what Nick was doing to her. The soft pounding of the surf a few feet from them faded. The breeze did not register on her skin.

Her eyes had closed and her hips arched hard. Her hands curled into fists, trying to grasp the sand, as her head rolled back. She was panting.

And still he did not spare her. He took her there on the beach, casting aside every layer of her clothing and driving himself into her with hard movements, until her climax tore through her and induced his own.

Afterward, he almost collapsed upon her. He held himself up with one arm and she could feel him trembling with the aftermath. Then he drew a deep lungful of air, slid his arm beneath her and rolled over onto his back, turning her and bringing her with him so that she lay across his chest.

He caught her face in his hands and brought it down so he could kiss her, slow and deep. Then he let his arms fall back to the sand.

She smoothed his brow. “So...no more tension?”

He was silent for a moment. “Someone’s been telling tales.” His tone held a tiny note of irritation.

“They didn’t have to,” she assured him. “I just have to watch you move through your day to see it. You’re driving yourself too hard, Nick.”

He patted her hip. “I need access to the gun,” he said gently.

She moved off him. As he sat up, she reached for her jeans and slid them on once more.

“I’m not angry with you,” Nick said at last.

“I know.”

“It’s just that you’re the second person today to tell me to take it easy.”

“I didn’t say to take it easy,” she told him gently. “I just said I can see how hard you’re working. That’s all. I’m not stupid, Nick. If you don’t do it, there is no one else.”

He stiffened.

“What?” she asked, sitting next to him. She could feel the heat radiating from him, this close.

“That’s not the way I planned it.”

“Planned what?”

“It’s not supposed to be me at all,” he said softly. “It can’t be.”

“What’s not supposed to be you?” she asked gently.

He was silent a long time. It was so unlike Nick to not have the answer at hand that she could feel her heart starting to thud with the tension of wondering what had disconcerted him so much.

He picked up her hand and placed it on his thigh. He stroked the fingers, sending shivers up her arm, but he did it absently. The physical man’s equivalent of doodling. “The Mexican government has asked us to reopen diplomatic relations with them,” he said at last.

Calli nodded. “That makes the people in this house the official representatives of Vistaria...” Then it fell into place for her. “Nick, are you saying you don’t think you’re fit to lead them?”

“I’m not a leader.”

“Yes, you are,” Calli said quickly. “You’re a natural leader. I’ve seen you. It’s second nature to you.”

He shook his head. “I’m not supposed to be the leader. That’s not my place. General Blanco is destined for that role, not me.” He sighed. “He will not step into it.”

“Will not, or cannot?” she asked gently. “There is a difference, Nick. For you, leadership comes easily. Blanco can direct military affairs, because in that role he has systems, predictable actions.”

Nick shook his head. “I am not the one to be their leader. That was not what I was supposed to be. I’m not even a proper—”

“No!” she protested. “Don’t tell me you’re not a proper Vistarian.”

“It is a truth we cannot ignore,” he said gently.

“Do you have a coin in your pocket?”

She could feel his puzzlement. Still, he delved into his pocket and pulled out one of the big Vistarian coins and held it out to her.

“Throw it on the sand over there. About twenty feet.”

He tossed it and it plunked onto the wet-packed sand in front of them, about twenty-five feet away.

“Ready?” she asked.

“For what?”

“Try to stop me.” As she finished speaking, she went for the gun on Nick’s hip. She pulled it out of the holster, turned, sighted and fired. At the same time, she threw her left arm up, blocking Nick’s hand as he reached for the gun.

With a sour whine, the coin flew up into the air, flickering before falling into the froth of an oncoming wave. Bull’s-eye.

She returned the gun to the holster and looked at Nick. Even in the dark, she could feel his astonishment. “We’re all doing things we never thought we would be called upon to do,” she told him. “Why should you be the exception?”