Nathan Hawkins was gone. Miguel paced the room of the small warehouse. “I want to know what happened yesterday morning. And who the hell attacked her.”
“I swear, Señor. None of your men had anything to do with it. They’ve been given strict orders not to harm her. They keep their distance.” His man pointed two fingers at his eyes and back at Miguel. “Eyes and ears only, sir. Rumor is that there’s a renegade local who’s been giving trouble to the tourists.”
Miguel frowned. “Find him. Kill him.”
Anyone who messed with his plan would die.
Finally, after all these years. A life for a life. A wife for a wife.
“Yes, sir.”
“Dig deeper. A man like Hawkins would have opposition in more than one corner of the world. Talk to the locals. The town is small enough, that shouldn’t be too difficult for you. Let’s not assume the local policía is right.”
The man left with a curt nod.
Miguel opened his email and found his son had messaged him.
Daniel wrote to him regularly, updating him on his progress at the university in London. He’d lost his focus in the last year. Grades were falling. His son needed incentive. Money usually worked, but Miguel never just gave money away. Perhaps it was time for Daniel to start earning.
He’d been there when his mother was killed; he would want to be around when she was avenged.
At the soft swish of material in the doorway, he glanced up at the silk clad body of the next woman in a line of women. Always looking to find what he’d lost, yet never quite succeeding. Perhaps he’d been looking in the wrong place.
Maybe his Nina would forever be irreplaceable.
With several quick keystrokes, he sent off an email to his son telling him he needed him.
Tavia strutted through the door and leaned long, slim hands against his make-shift desk—a table made of sawhorses and plywood. Her effort revealed the generous swell of her breasts, stopping just short of full exposure. “Come to the water with me, Miguel.”
Miguel lifted a hand and traced his finger along the edge of the black silk, pushing it off the back of her shoulder and trailing his palm down over her nipple. Her back arched in an instant. Her eyes fell to half-mast. Then she tsked as she pulled the material back over her shoulder, stood, and rounded the table, toying with him. He bit down on the need to take as her rear rested against the edge of his laptop; her leg brushed against the smooth linen of his pants, the touch making him moan.
“No, no, mi amor.” She trailed her fingernails over her abdomen, teasing him…teasing herself, and even lower to the scrap of material, the thong between her legs. Her skin pebbled with arousal before she brought her hand back up and closed the sheer black material at her waist. “There is a semi private pool of water at the resort. I’m tired of being here in this dungeon where you work.”
Miguel could take her. He could do away with her too. More demanding with each day, if it weren’t for her long legs and soft, warm center, he might have shucked himself of her growing neediness.
His days had been filled with Stacy, following her, getting to know her routines, her habits. And always, he dreamt of her eyes at night and anticipated having her.
He was, however, a compassionate man. He did not like to kill for no reason. He should let Tavia go so she might find someone who could appreciate her skills.
Miguel closed the lid of his computer and gently set it aside. He gripped her hips, shoving her up onto the table and spreading her legs in front of him.
“So impatient,” she murmured, her voice taking on the hum of arousal. She squirmed, reaching for herself as if to relieve the ache. He grabbed her wrist, locked it in his hand, not bothering with words, and blew a cool breath against the wet juncture of her thighs.
He thought of winning Stacy, of convincing her to be with him, and his own arousal struck, hard. To take the man’s wife, not to kill her but to have her—at her own choice, her own desire. That would be the ultimate win.
Today was his lucky day, because Hawkins was gone without the wife he supposedly adored.
Miguel had been close enough to know discord when he saw it. The knowledge was enough. He would use it…starting today.
***
With a guilty sense of excitement, Stacy woke the next morning to clear skies in the east and an urge to break from the ordinary, break from the routine for the time. Like deployments used to be before he went private, his time gone would be filled by reorganizing her priorities.
She stopped at Jamie’s first, knowing it would put him at ease to see her. Only, she didn’t stay long. Instead, she took the Hawk-approved trail around to the beach south of the hotel. When her tennis shoes hit wet sand she stopped, removed them, and tucked her socks down inside.
Hugging the shoreline, water splashed her bare feet. Taking a deep breath, she soaked rays from the rising sun, finally stopping, tilting her head back, and letting go of all the burdens and uncertainties.
“If it isn’t the beautiful Ms. Stacy.”
Her heart skipped a beat as she turned, and then she grinned. “Michael.”
He stood, body board under his arm. In bright floral swim trunks and wet-shoes, the sight of him struck her. This man was not nearly as old as she’d thought. He was trim, lean. Perhaps a few years had added the wrinkles and leathered skin, but Michael was a man who might be able to go a round or two at Hawkin’s Gym in Raleigh.
“How’s the water?”
“It is life-giving.” He came and stood beside her. “I grew up near the water. Nothing quite like the blue of the Atlantic Ocean on the coast here. No matter where in the world, though, water is invigorating and necessary.”
His words drew her in, and she squinted against the sun, sitting low in the sky, and eyed him. “I know what you mean. I grew up on the coast—North Carolina. Sometimes I miss it.”
“Do you…” Michael lifted his board in question.
She grinned. “I do.”
He shrugged, a challenging glint in his eye, and took a step for the water. “Well, what are you waiting for then?”
Nothing. For the first time since arriving in Belize she had nothing to wait for…
She ran the rest of the way to the little bungalow and changed into her wetsuit. In the kitchen, she grabbed a banana and noticed the phone on the counter had a flashing red light. She reached for the phone clipped to her waist.
“Dang it.” She turned it on. One missed call from Hawk.
The carefree feeling of the previous hour fled as she dialed one for her voicemail.
“Hey, babe. Not sure you remember my leaving…” He’d been sweet, kissing her soft and slow, before whispering a good-bye against her cheek. She’d gripped his hand and pressed her lips to his palm then slid quickly back into sleep. “Flight was on time. I’ m in Houston waiting for the plane to L.A. Then it’s up and over. Call me if you have a minute. I—” He broke off, sending a poignant blade straight through her heart. Uncertainty rang through the silence. He cleared his throat. “I’ll see you soon.”
She called back and got his voicemail. Separations were like that, though. Before he’d retired from the military, and later as business had grown, she’d always considered herself strong, able to handle the distance. Ironically, he hadn’t gone anywhere in months, and in that time, he seemed farther away than he ever had before. It was almost a relief to actually have him miles from her instead of close yet holding back.
She walked the beach again, this time with somber thoughts.
He’d talk when he was ready…bottom line.
“Smile!” Michael was dragging his board through the crashing waves as he stumbled onto the beach. His hair stuck up in all directions. His shorts rode low on one hip. He was grinning when he collapsed in the sand, breathing hard.
She approached with her own board and knifed it into the sand. “You’re new at this, aren’t you?”
“What do you mean?” He managed to sound insulted, laughing at the same time.
Stacy bit back a smile.
“There. That! A smile. Perfect.” His encouragement made her heart pound so she rolled her eyes.
“Your turn,” he challenged.
She eyed the waves, eyed him. “Let’s go.”
Wave after wave, she rode, letting the water cleanse her of all the negativity. Her muscles began a slow ache, and still, she kept on. One more then one more. Her mind became a blank sheet.
When she rode her last wave, coasting up onto the shore, she rolled off her board, flat to her back and gulped in a few much-needed breaths. Her eyes closed against the glare of the sun. “God, how long have we been out here?”
Michael lifted his hand and read his watch. “Hour and a half.”
“Is that all?” She covered her face with her arm. “It was good. Just what I needed this morning. I feel spent yet relaxed at the same time.”
“Admirable focus, too.”
A laugh bubbled out. “Right? I hit a zone. Very nice.” She peered over at her new friend. “I always think it would be a good idea to bring the kids down here, live on the beach. Homeschool. A little modern-day Swiss Family Robinson.”
Michael lifted a brow and turned his head. “Kind of crowded down here for that.”
“Maybe. But it’s peaceful. And mostly, it’s free of the complications that seem to come with convenience.” Whether that was true or not was debatable. She liked to believe she could create a fantasy for her family.
“Sounds too simple for me.” Michael sat up and rested his elbows on his knees.
“A man of action then?” She knew almost nothing about him. Not that it seemed to matter. The resort was full of guests, some here for just a few days, others—like she and Hawk—here for a few weeks or longer. Camaraderie grew in the most unusual places.
She’d made many friends over the years while down in Belize.
“Just a man who likes to stay on the move.”
“Well, it’s good to have a place to go home to. My husband and I travel a lot for business. I wouldn’t give up having that one spot in the world that belongs to us.” Stacy sat up and brushed the drying sand from her legs. “I like to be able to stop and feel a cool breeze on my face occasionally, you know?”
She could never give up the business. There had been a time after having kids that she’d wanted to give it up, craved having Hawk home with her long enough to change a diaper. Those days and feelings had passed. Now she looked around, and she saw the good they did.
What she saw was the start of her own life. Where would she have been all those years ago if not for Hawk and his small team?
When she stood, a groan escaped. “Oh. I really did it this time.” And she laughed. “I’ve missed the gym one too many times since being on vacation. All the umbrella drinks and lazy days at the pool are catching up to me.”
His laughter rang through the air. “You should come have lunch with me.”
Stacy stopped, the suggestion striking a cord with her. “Oh, well—”
“Please, invite your husband to come as well.” He laid a hand on hers, holding the body board. Just a brief, warm touch before he let her go and raised both hands. “Nothing illicit, my dear. I do not take what doesn’t belong to me.”
A hard glint flashed in his eyes. There was a story there, and she had no doubt it involved a woman. What else? Good-looking man, older, wealthy…single? He could have a woman on both arms, she knew.
She nodded toward the outdoor café at the back of the resort. “Come on. I’ll buy you a drink.”
“You, buying for me? How can I allow it?”
“I insist.” They sat at one of the tables that bordered the pool. “You helped me a few days ago. I owe you.”
“Oh, no. It was my pleasure.” Michael waved over the waitress and spoke to Stacy. “Something for you?”
“Just an iced tea,” Stacy said to the pretty, dark-haired waitress. She might want to stop and smell the roses, but she also had things to do for her visit with Diane. After Michael ordered, she directed the conversation back to him. “Now, you’ll have to tell me a little about yourself. What do you do?”
“Oh, this and that. Import and export. Textiles mostly.” He waved a hand. “I won’t bore you with the details.”
“I’m not bored.” They talked for a while before Stacy finally set her napkin back on the table. Before she could rise, a woman approached and set a colorful pamphlet on the table between her and Michael.
The woman was gorgeous…and at least sixty. Graying light brown hair framed her pretty face. A sharp red lipstick accentuated her full, smiling lips. She took Michael’s hand when he stood to greet her. “So good to see you, young man.” Then she turned to Stacy. “I’m Liza, Lizaneth Montigo. I’ve seen you around and wanted to introduce myself.”
“You’re the new social director,” Stacy said with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”
The woman’s smile lit her face as she turned back to Michael. “He is one of my star pupils in the dance class since his arrival.” She tapped the pamphlet. “A dance next week. It’s an over-fifty gala, and Michael is allowed to bring anyone he wants so you must come.”
Stacy’s thoughts skipped ahead, staying one step in front of the woman’s energy. “Oh, well—”
Michael pushed the pamphlet toward Stacy. “You take it. For you and your husband.”
“Oh, my! Of course. I’m so sorry,” Liza started with a laugh as she placed another ad on the table. “Wonderful! That means two more couples. Michael, you go find yourself a nice single gal to bring with you.”
He’d known her discomfort and eased it.
She smiled at him—a silent thank you. And when he smiled back, kindness shone in his eyes. She laughed as she tucked the brochure into her pocket and stood. “I should go. I’m meeting a friend tomorrow, and I must call her to set up the details.”
“Tell her to come to the dance!” The events coordinator’s exuberance carried her from their table to the next as she continued her rounds of the patio.
Stacy shook her head before locking her gaze with Michael’s. “Thanks for keeping me company.”
“It was my pleasure.”
She felt bad, though. He was probably a man who could have any woman, young or old, for company. He didn’t need her, a married woman, taking up his time while he was on vacation.
And when she promised herself she’d keep her distance and keep busy, she didn’t let being mistaken for something more than a passing acquaintance disturb her…not much anyway.