Estella made the sign of the cross and shut her eyes tight as her lips moved in prayer. She had her doubts that God listened to a whore, but it gave her comfort even if it was only for a moment.
“We’ll stop for gas.” One of the men turned and spoke to her in Spanish. “You stay put. If you have to pee, squat in the corner. And don’t let anyone see you. Understand?”
The man’s eyes trailed down to her breasts. She hated how he looked at her.
“What is your name?” he asked.
She gritted her teeth and took a deep breath before she answered him.
“Estella.”
By the way the man stared, she wondered if there was another reason she’d been told to go with them—and taking care of the American had only been an excuse to distract her. She had a bad feeling that Guerrero had grown tired of her, and that meant only one thing. She was no longer just
“This one, she has a pretty mouth,” the man said to the driver. When they both laughed, Estella crossed her arms and looked away.
That was when she saw that the American was awake.
One of his eyes was swollen shut, but with the other, he stared straight through to her soul.
Estella gasped.
Although she wanted to talk to him, she didn’t dare. She waited until Guerrero’s men stopped the car and got out at the gas station.
When she was alone with the injured man, she whispered in English, “Who are you?”
The man blinked and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She reached for the damp rag and held it out to him.
“This may hurt.”
With a trembling hand, she dabbed his forehead with the rag and water trickled down the man’s swollen cheek. The American winced as he stared at her, accusing her with the unrelenting glare from his good eye.
“I did not do this. I swear. I am a prisoner, like you.”
Estella didn’t know if he believed her. He let her touch him and cool his brow before he slowly closed his eyes again. Before he drifted to sleep, she leaned closer and brushed his damp hair off his face.
“If I can, I will stay with you,
Estella didn’t know why she had felt such a strong urge to comfort the man with a lie. If Guerrero was involved, the American was as good as dead, especially if he was being taken to Guerrero’s powerful boss.
The American didn’t stand a chance. And she knew exactly how that felt.
Chapter 3
Before she opened her eyes, Jessie couldn’t help but nudge the corner of her lips into a faint smile as she remembered making sweet love to Seth Harper into the wee hours of the morning. Images of Harper in the shower, running his soapy hands over her body, melded into flashes of memory when they’d made love by candlelight in his bed under white sheets.
Harper had always been beautiful to her, but by candlelight, he was unforgettable. And her skin flushed hot with the thought of him inside her, the urgency of his body filling her need for him. He made her feel wanted and loved and . . . beautiful. In the dim glow of candles and seeing herself in his eyes, she could forget the scars on her body and the deeper wounds she carried in her heart.
Even now, with eyes shut, she sensed the gray of morning and moaned with pleasure as she rolled toward Harper, wrapped in his comforter. But when something wet and cold nudged her chin, she flinched and opened her eyes with a start.
“What the hell . . . ?” she blurted out, running a hand over her face to clear the cob webs.
“You know, in some states, you could get arrested for that.” Harper’s voice came from across the room.
If he was over there, then who was in the bed with her?
With eyes wide, Jess sat up and pulled the sheets over her naked body. And she found herself staring into the face of the ugliest dog she’d ever seen—a brown-and-black-striped, brindle-colored pit bull with a large square head marred with scars. Its muzzle and paws were white, and the tip of one bent ear was gone. The dog sprawled on her lap and cocked its head, whimpering. Its tiny dark eyes were dwarfed by the size of its huge, panting grin.
“Meet my roommate, Floyd.” Harper grinned. “I know you’re gonna find this hard to believe, but he’s not just another pretty face.”
Dressed only in worn jeans, Seth joined her on the bed. His hair was damp from the shower, and he flopped down on the mattress. Not even his enticing aroma of citrus soap cut the smell of warm dog breath.
“Floyd?” she asked.
“Yep, that’s it. No last name. Just Floyd.” Harper ran a hand over the dog’s head. “He adopted me.”
“Lucky you.”
Jess scratched behind the dog’s ear. The pit bull moaned and leaned into her hand until it flopped onto the bed, chest up and legs flailing.
“He’s easy,” she said.
“Yeah, he takes after me.” Harper brushed back a strand of hair from her eyes. “Have I mentioned how much I love having you here? I love it even more than my towel warmer.”
“Thanks, I think.” She did a double take. “Wait a minute. You have a towel warmer?”
He grinned. “Come on. I’ve got breakfast started. Hope you’re hungry. I couldn’t decide what to make, so I kinda got carried away.”
“Ah, Seth. You didn’t have to . . .”
“I know, but I wanted to.”
She opened her mouth to tell him what was on her mind, about the trip she had planned to Wisconsin, but Seth’s face was an open book, and he looked like he had something more to say.
“Listen, Jess. Tanya Spencer assigned me a new project. Sounds pretty important to her, something below the radar. I’m expecting her call. I wanted to spend the day with you, just the two of us, but I may have to work, so I’m officially apologizing now.”
“Well, get in line, Harper, ’cause when it comes to official apologies, I owe you a big one.”
Seth ran a hand through his wavy damp hair and shrugged.
“Not before coffee. House rules.” He got off the bed and headed toward the door, with Floyd close on his heels. “Come on. Get dressed, Jess. Sounds like we’ve got talking to do.”
Before he left the room, she called out, “Hey, Harper. Have I told you how much I love you?”
When he turned, he flashed a crooked grin, and his cheeks blushed pink. “Not today, but feel free to make that up to me.”
Jessie knew Seth would be disappointed that she couldn’t stay, especially after he surprised her with his new place—a home he wanted to make with her. She wished things could have been different, too, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the mother she never knew and a dark past that still haunted her.
Harper would want to help, but she knew that he’d respect her wishes. This trip was something she needed to do alone.
Alexa had stayed up all night, working her own contacts. She’d made countless phone calls and even worked local sources by hitting the streets and visiting old haunts of Garrett’s. No one knew what he’d been working on before he vanished.
“Damn it, Garrett,” she muttered as she checked her cell for messages.
She resisted the urge to stay angry at him. The bastard had always been secretive. It was his nature, but that made it hard for her to feel the intimacy she had always craved with him—a closeness he probably had never
