He still wanted her. And she very much wanted him.
“As far as I’m concerned, sleep is overrated,” she said, sending his hard mouth up in amusement, lifting his sexy mustache.
“You’re right, we can sleep when we’re dead.”
She gave him a sultry smile, but as the SUV rolled up into the mountains at the edge of the city, she didn’t say more.
Neither did Colt.
Each knew the other was thinking about last night, wondering if it could possibly be that good again.
CHAPTER NINE
BENITO CORTEZ STROLLED out to greet them as the black SUV drove through the wrought iron gates of Casa del Cielo, “House of Heaven,” a stunning residence on the side of a hill at the base of the Sierra Madre mountains.
The sprawling white structure was spectacular, a contemporary architectural design composed entirely of sharp-angled walls and huge plate glass windows. The fountain in front was a modern sculpture, and the views out over the city were magnificent.
The driver stopped the vehicle, got out, and opened the rear passenger door. Colt slid out first, reached down, and took hold of Lissa’s hand. He ignored a thread of arousal as she followed him out into the bright Mexican sunshine. It was a few degrees cooler here, the air less humid, which suited Colt just fine.
The stout black-haired man walking toward them in a pair of beige chinos and a blue knit pullover wasn’t tall or large. He wasn’t handsome. At best, he was mildly attractive. There was no arrogance in his stride as he approached, and yet Colt could feel the power the man exuded as if it were a living force.
“Señor Wheeler.” Cortez extended a blunt-fingered hand, the nails cut short and perfectly manicured.
Colt accepted the handshake. “Señor Cortez. A pleasure meeting you. We appreciate your hospitality.” He turned. “This is Lissa Blayne. She’s a friend of the missing boy’s mother. Lissa is a private investigator in Dallas.”
One of Cortez’s black eyebrows went up. “A lady detective.” He smiled. “I do not believe I have ever met a female sleuth before.” His English was perfect. Alex had mentioned he was well educated.
Lissa smiled and extended her hand, which Cortez warmly accepted. “Thank you for offering your help,” she said.
“As my friend Alejandro undoubtedly told you, it will be my pleasure to see El Puñal receive his dues.” He waved airily. “But we will talk more about that tonight at supper when you will meet my lovely wife, Lupita. In the meantime...” He turned and an elegant young man in a perfectly tailored ivory linen suit came down off the porch.
“Rico will show you to your quarters. Your bags will be waiting for you. Cocktails at seven. Dinner at eight. There is a house phone in your casita. If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you,” Colt said. They followed Rico along a concrete walkway to a separate villa, one of several that hung on the side of the mountain a short distance from the house.
The structure was done in the same modern design, with brilliant white walls, sharp angles, and lots of windows. The inside was a surprise, the rooms brightened by the use of vivid colors. Reds, oranges, and yellows predominated in paintings, accent pieces, and pillows on the sofa, giving the contemporary design a distinctly Mexican flair.
“I will be back at seven to escort you to supper,” Rico said, and left them.
Lissa turned in a circle to survey their surroundings and take in the spectacular view. “Wow. This place is amazing.” Then she surprised Colt by reaching up and pulling off his patch before she leaned over and kissed him, her lips softening into his, heating his blood.
It was like lighting the fuse on a dynamite keg. Colt swept her hard against him and deepened the kiss, reached for her orange T-shirt and stripped it off over her head. The rest of her clothes quickly followed. As soon as both of them were naked, he lifted her, wrapped her long, pretty legs around his waist, and strode out of the living room, figuring the bedroom was somewhere down the hall.
The sex was mind-blowing. Just as before, their intimacy was profoundly satisfying, touching him in some unexpected way. He told himself it was just the newness of the relationship, but he had trouble convincing himself.
He knew women, had enjoyed more than his share. This was different. She was different.
Sated and relaxed, he curled her against his side and closed his eyes. Exhausted from worrying about the boy and his lack of sleep last night, he drifted away.
It was six o’clock when he awoke. Leaving Lissa asleep, Colt grabbed one of the white terry robes their host had provided and went into the living room. An ivory linen suit and short-sleeved blue-flowered shirt draped over the sofa. Next to it, an embroidered yellow sundress with a full gathered skirt had been laid out for Lissa.
Someone had entered the casita and left the garments. He grinned to think of the passionate sounds they must have heard seeping through the walls of the bedroom.
Lissa appeared beside him. “They brought us clothes for tonight?”
“Alex said they dress up for supper. It’s a nice tradition.”
Lissa smiled up at him. “If I’m going to wear a pretty dress, I need a shower.” One of her blond eyebrows arched in challenge. “Would you care to join me?”
That comment didn’t even warrant a reply. He took her hand. “Let’s go.”
STANDING ON A covered terrace overlooking the city, Lissa took a sip of the lime mango margarita Lupita had insisted she try. It was frosty and delicious, the salt on the rim crunchy and tangy on her tongue.
As they enjoyed cocktails before supper, the men drifted off in one direction while Lissa chatted with their hostess. Unfortunately, feeling restless and edgy and worried about Timmy,
