could ever duplicate her. She’s one of a kind.”
Kelly turned away, but not before he caught the glint of moisture in her now-dark eyes. Shay steeled himself against the urge to gather her into his arms and give comfort as he’d done in the past. He needed her sharp, alert and unemotional. Sympathy wouldn’t snap her out of it.
“Buck up, Juan. Real men don’t cry. If you’re going to go soft on me, turn back into a girlie girl.”
“I’m not crying, dammit.” Those thin shoulders tensed with pride.
Kelly flicked a hand at his chest. “A little much? You like skinny women with huge breasts?”
Far from it. He adored a woman with curves, whose soft body would cushion a man when he lay between her legs. A redhead with deep blue eyes sparkling with laughter and passion would suffice. Kelly.
Hell, no wonder he’d screwed up the shape-shifting.
“It’s a distraction. Men like to check out women, I gave myself big assets to draw attention to me and away from you. If we encounter any bounty hunters, most will be too busy staring at my chest to notice you.”
“And you know this because...why? You like to stare at women like that, too, Sam?”
He actually did not. Shay loved women, respected them too much. Oh, hell, he’d scope out a woman like other men, but he’d notice other things. The way she laughed, how she moved, how she interacted with others. Aggressive and bold or quiet and confident?
Kelly taught him that. He’d learned to see beyond appearance to the woman beneath. And now when he chose his female companions, never more than for a few nights of pleasure, their biggest assets were inside their heads.
“Call me Maria.” He pursed his lips and batted his lashes. “Sam doesn’t go well with this outfit. You’re my husband and we just recently married.”
“We make a great pair. Like matching salt and pepper shakers.”
But he said nothing as they stepped out onto the road.
The disguises worked. No one gave them more than a cursory glance as they walked to the next town, although Shay had to remind Kelly to rein in her natural grace.
Men didn’t sway their hips.
Crumbling adobe buildings with sagging corrugated metal roofs lined the narrow streets. Women sat beneath faded beach umbrellas, selling roasted corn and mangoes. Shay spotted a sign reading El Nuevo Comodor. The restaurant had a cracked window and peeling paint, contradicting its boast of such newness. He checked the sun’s position. Time to give Dakota a sitrep. The restaurant was nearly empty.
While Kelly went to the ladies’ room, Shay fished his cell from his pack and punched in LT’s number. The phone rang. No answer. Either Dakota was out of range or something had happened. He left a voice mail.
When she returned, they bought water and snacks from the restaurant, earning a small smile from the owner. As they made their way down the cracked sidewalk, wending through a gaggle of women selling fruit from woven baskets, a chicken bus stopped. The ancient school bus, painted in wild colors, waited for a herd of goats to cross the street. A man hung an elbow out the bus window, his sharpened gaze raking over the street. The faint red glow of his aura pulsed. Shay tensed, bracing for action.
“Maria, I am very hungry for a delicious mango. Don’t these look good?” Juan/Kelly asked in halting Spanish.
The passenger’s gaze whipped over to Kelly. He lifted something from his lap. A shotgun.
Juan/Kelly glanced up and saw the gun. Blood drained from her face. Sam squeezed Kelly’s arm in silent warning and pointed to the mango basket. She bent her head, examining the ripe fruit. He itched to have his Sig in hand. The weapon was part of him.
But the disguise was more effective. He adjusted the white blouse to show a tantalizing glimpse of generous cleavage. Nearby men began studying him and moved closer to the mango seller’s stand. Murmurs of frank male appreciation followed.
The shotgun-carrying passenger in the bus riveted his gaze to Sam’s chest.
Juan/Kelly fished bills out of a wallet to pay the beaming seller. Finally, the bus rambled past. Shoulders hunched, Kelly stared at the ground.
She looked too damn scared. Other pedestrians glanced at them curiously. They were drawing attention.
“Juan, I want to buy some tortillas, too,” he said, hoping she took the hint.
Silence.
He pouted, putting a hand on one hip as he’d seen women do. “Another man would give me what I want,” he said in a smooth purr.
It worked. Juan/Kelly’s head snapped up and she seized his arm, holding it in a proprietary way. “Enough shopping. We need to make it home before dark.”
Her Spanish was slow but precise. Shay gave an approving nod.
A brief, stinging slap on his ass made him yelp. “You are too much of a flirt with the men, Maria.”
Glaring, he rubbed his ass. “They like what they see and pay attention to me.”
“They only stare at your body.”
Shay wriggled his hips. “Is it not a body worth a few stares?”
“They will never have you. Mine is the only bed you will ever lie upon. Perhaps I should keep you there naked until I plant another baby in your belly.”
Whoa. This was too weird, the words getting him cranked up.
Beneath the plain cotton bra, his nipples turned to hard points. Shay glanced down in dismay. So this is what arousal felt like for women.
And he thought it was hard to hide an erection...
“Let us go, Juan.” Man, he sure as hell hoped she’d get the hint and stop talking. But Kelly was too into the role.
“When I get you home, Maria, I will give you no reason to leave our bed. You will enjoy the pleasure I give you and forget about all others,” Juan/Kelly continued.
Pleasure...memories flooded his mind. Kelly stretched out beneath him, her fingers interlaced with his, her smoky gaze widening as he lowered his head and encased one taut nipple in his mouth. Those little screams of hers driving him wild, her hands stroking him lower until he wanted to die...
An odd, disconcerting ache pulsed between his legs. Shay felt real alarm. Dammit. “Let’s roll,” he muttered in English.
Grabbing her arm, Shay picked up the pace. The hell with acting like a meek woman. This role reversal was more dangerous than he’d anticipated.
Finally, they reached a deserted side street. Juan/Kelly pulled him into the recess of a doorway, out of sight. “What’s your prob?” she hissed in English.
“You, talking about fucking me. Stop it,” he said darkly.
Those sun-darkened cheeks flushed again. “Sorry. I didn’t think...”
“Then start.”
Juan/Kelly hugged himself. “I was scared. That man in the bus seemed like he knew who I was. I thought if I got more into the role of a man, it would help.”
Shay’s anger faded. “It’s okay. I overreacted. It’s a little unsettling, getting turned on as a woman.”
Curiosity flared on her face. “Is it? I’ve always wondered what it feels like to be a man, you know, when you get aroused. What turns a man on?”
Hooyah, this was getting interesting.
