The building was a private residence on a massive plot of land outside of Juarez, Mexico. The hacienda was beautiful, though well-fortified. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to break into a well secured home, but she had to be extremely careful in a country like Mexico where laws tended to be a little more… flexible. Especially out in the area she was working in. There were few people that would miss a blond gringa if she was caught breaking into a home in this area. Chances were, such a gorgeous hacienda belonged to a drug dealer, or worse.
Katie was actually surprised she wasn’t having to dodge more physical security. She had been expecting to slip by a few more obstacles on her way over the southern gate, but so far she’d seen no one. Perhaps this particular fat cat had enough local law in his pockets that he felt safe without the added expense. So much the better for her. She’d be able to get in and out with fewer potential run-ins.
She had no idea who actually owned this particular painting Ivan had commissioned her retrieval services for. She’d done extensive research on the building, the grounds and the local area, but hadn’t been able to uncover a peep about the mark him or herself. Even XSource, an information genius, hadn’t managed to turn anything up. She felt like she was going in blind, but she’d run out of time and didn’t have a choice. All she knew was that this particular mark had a priceless, well-preserved seventeenth century painting of the Virgin Mary that would net Ivan, and subsequently Katie, bucketloads of money.
She noiselessly approached one of the servant entrances and threw a nervous look over her shoulder even though she knew she fit seamlessly into the darkness. She wore tight black pants that moulded to her legs so they wouldn’t catch on anything as she shimmied and climbed, a long-sleeved black shirt, black gloves and a thin black mask that hid her pale face and blond hair. She also wore thin-soled black shoes on her feet so she could move easily and run if she had to.
She easily broke in through the side entrance and disconnected the alarm that she knew would be there. She held her breath as she listened for any indication that she’d been heard. This job was making her a skittish kitty. She wasn’t used to having so little information on a client. Normally she would make sure her mark was out of the building before she moved forward with the lift. Unfortunately, she had no way of knowing who lived in the hacienda, let alone who was going to be at home. Luckily, she did know that the painting she was after was housed in a separate section from the living quarters that, especially at 3:00 am, should be unoccupied.
Following the internal map she’d build after relentlessly studying the blueprints Ivan had provided her of the huge house, she made her way through the darkened, deserted hallways. Again, she was a little surprised at just how quiet such a large home was. She supposed that any security that may be on premises were just rotated to another part of the house. Or perhaps, given the time of morning, they were napping on the job? Well, that only made her job a little easier.
She found the door to the Virgin’s room easily and grinned happily when she discovered it was locked with a Baldwin smart design. Finally, an obstacle! She thought the damn ten-foot-high fence around the property was the worst thing the reclusive homeowner was going to throw at her. Taking a quick peek around, she took out her phone and snapped a pic, sending it to Source. Then she sat with her back against the door, waiting for her friend to figure something out. Good old-fashioned locks? Katie had it in the bag. A techno lock? Nope, no way.
A few seconds later her phone vibrated in her hand. Katie lifted it to her ear in surprise, answering with a whisper, “Holy crap, buddy! I don’t often get the pleasure of talking to you in person, this must be serious.”
“Yeah, well, you present a challenge and I deliver,” came the slightly husky and always lovely voice. “Okay, Kitty Kat, time to get cracking, here’s what you need to do…”
Ten minutes later, Katie was finally in the sealed and chilled room. She was careful to heed her friend’s instructions and keep the expert on the line for when she needed help getting back out. She knew the room was sound-proofed and didn’t intend to die in there before the homeowner came to check on their painting. Keeping the phone on, she slipped it into her pocket until it was time to exit.
Katie retrieved a flashlight from her other pocket, flicked it on and turned to point it at the only thing in the room, the painting of the Virgin Mary. Her loud gasp echoed in the room, so loud she was certain even Source heard her. Instead of the seventeenth century Virgin Mary, piously praying over clasped hands, Katie found herself facing another painting entirely.
Unable to believe her eyes, she stepped slowly forward, hand outstretched. She stopped within inches of the painting and stared, eyes wide and unblinking. Positive that it was, in fact, the original, she moved her hand to cover her mouth. But how was it possible? This painting had been sold at a private auction in New York for millions of dollars. She followed the purchase closely, toying with the idea of picking it up for herself. How had Picasso’s Woman with Folded Arms ended up in Mexico?
She felt his presence like the electrical surge before a storm as he approached her soundlessly from behind. She must have missed his presence in the perfectly chilled room from her buzz of breaking in and her focus on the painting. Now there was no missing him. Nor was there any missing the swirling rage that enveloped him. She should have known Mexico was a trap.
She never in a million years thought her beloved benefactor would so heartlessly set her up this way. It hurt her badly to realize that he must want the resources XSource could bring him more than he wanted his favourite cat burglar. The door lock had been a set up to get Source on the phone. Katie’s throat ached and her eyes burned, knowing she was probably too late. Ivan would have people ready to mobilize all over the world once he pinpointed the signal. Still, she had to try.
“Source, get out n…!” she screamed.
Roman’s scent enveloped her just before a bag went over her head, cutting off her senses. She continued to scream until his huge arm slipped around her neck, cutting off her air supply. His other arm slipped around her middle and crushed her against him, lifting her off the ground. She kicked out at him, but her thin-soled shoes were no match against his muscular legs. Though she knew it was Roman that held her, his silence combined with the bag over her head terrified her.
Finally, he spoke, his deep, familiar voice sending a chill slithering down her spine. “Stop moving or I will snap your neck.”
Katie relaxed against him and allowed him to hold her body weight off the floor. She could feel his erection pressing intimately between her ass cheeks and wondered if that was a good or bad sign. He still wanted her. He wasn’t even breathing hard after their brief struggle, even though she felt like she’d run a race. Her chest was heaving against his thick arm and she was sure her ribcage was going to be bruised.
He slipped his hand into her pocket and retrieved her phone. She felt his fingers slide along her pubic bone as he pulled his hand away from her pants. A spark leaped to life within her belly and she wanted to scream at the unfairness that the only man who could pull any kind of response from her was a ruthless, kidnapping asshole. She felt him lift the phone to his ear and then make a grunt of satisfaction.
“It sounds like your friend is finally done running, mi chica.”
Katie slumped against him, a whimper of despair escaping her lips as he disconnected her phone and tossed it on the floor. He turned her around abruptly, setting her back on her feet so she was facing him. She nearly crumpled to the floor, but his harsh hold stopped her. He yanked her hands together in front of her and began winding something that felt rough, like rope, around her wrists.
“Roman, please!” she begged him in a muffled voice through the bag.
“Do not speak,” he commanded sharply.
Her breath caught in a painful gasp at the coldness in his voice. He pulled her roughly from the room, impatiently hauling her to her feet by the arm when she tripped and lurched forward, unable to see where she was going. Once they stepped out of the gallery room he handed her over to someone else with a grunted command. “Take her downstairs and hook her up.”
A new set of hands took Katie impersonally by the arm and led her into the bowels of the huge hacienda. Katie was too stunned to protest. Never in the time that she’d known Roman had he ever willingly allowed another person, let alone another man, touch her in his presence. This act of coldness told her more eloquently than words that his love for her had died. He had maneuvered her capture instead for revenge.
Tears flowed freely from her eyes, soaking into her mask as she stumbled alongside her guard into the chilly depths of Roman’s home. They stopped walking abruptly and she was left standing alone for a few seconds, shivering in terror, wondering what they were going to do to her. She thought about attempting to run, but knew she wouldn’t make it far.
She jumped and let out a muffled scream as her hands were seized and jerked abruptly over her head. She was stretched upward until she was forced to stand on the very tips of her toes. The guy holding her grunted and she felt the rope binding her wrists lifted up until her feet left the floor completely and then she was dropped back onto her toes. Her heart pounded painfully as she swung forward and then around in a circle until she realized she was hanging from an actual hook. Terror swelled within her until she thought she would choke in it.
As she heard the man walk away from her, she fought the rising panic that was threatening to claw its way out of her chest. She was hooked up in the basement of a very pissed off Mexican mobster with a grudge against her and a bag over her head. She didn’t really see how things could get much worse.
About twenty minutes passed (though, with her arms tied over her head, it felt more like hours) when she heard the unmistakable sound of the crack of a whip slice through the air beside her body. Katie decided her plight could actually get much worse. What the fuck had Ivan set her up for?
Eyes wide and breaths coming out in whimpering gasps under the hood, Katie twisted and struggled helplessly in her binding. The whip continued to crack ominously, echoing loudly through the concrete basement and making her flinch to the side of where she thought it was landing.
“I would not move like that, Katerina.” Roman’s voice finally stopped her struggles. He sounded much closer to her than she had thought the whip yielder was. “You might accidentally push yourself into the path of my whip. Wouldn’t want to accidentally mark you… yet.”
She’d been holding her breath, trying desperately to hear his words through the rush of blood beating in her ears and the hood and mask over her head. A choking gasp escaped her lips when she caught the last word. Roman intended to hurt her bad. He’d had a year to contemplate his revenge on the woman he thought he loved. Now that he had her, there would be no mercy.
“Please… Roman…” she tried appealing to him, twisting her body in the direction she thought he was standing.
“What?” he roared, his voice a loud echo throughout the room.
Katie flinched away from the sound.
“I can’t hear you?” he snarled and reached out to roughly tear the hood away. He did the same with the mask. “Do you have something to say to me, Katerina mia?”
With no barriers left between them, they were once more face to face for the first time in a year. Her terrified gaze met his. She saw only triumph in his face. The same blazing possession she saw the last time he had captured her, only this time the demonic look on his face wasn’t tempered with the love he had felt for her since they were little more than teenagers.
He took her chin in a brutal grip and shook her. The chain above her head rattled as she swayed. “Answer me,” he snarled. “You have something to say, mujer?”
She flinched again, but continued to hold his gaze. Roman Valdez had always been a hard man. From the day she met him she’d known he was a killer. But this man that stood before her now? He was so much worse than anything she’d ever been confronted with before. Her betrayal had changed him in ways she never anticipated.
Physically, he was even harder, more dangerous looking than she remembered. He wore a suit that fit him to perfection. He’d ominously removed the jacket and rolled his shirtsleeves up extremely muscular forearms. His usual long, rangy form had been honed into muscular perfection, as though he spent much of his time away from her punishing his body in anticipation for the day he would get his hands on her.
“Speak!” he shouted in her face when she refused to say anything.
Tears formed in the corners of her eyes and spilled over. Fine, if he wanted her to speak, she would speak. She would give him the truth. She wasn’t going to blubber and beg like he wanted. She was better than that. She stared into his dark eyes, lifted her chin and whispered, “I never stopped loving you.”