Frozen Desires (Asylums for Magical Threats) (14 page)

involvement with the Federation League?

Traitor. Murderer. Ignoramus. Those were the names her teammates had called her, back in the early

days of DEFEND. And to think she’d called those people her friends. She’d learned to craft a reputation

after that, one that would keep the idiots away from her.

She’d put Marco into the idiot category back in the States, but for once, she hoped that she’d been

wrong. She was a big enough person to admit that she needed his help more than ever since Richard was

back in the picture.

Marco finally grinned, and she let out her breath. Unless he had some sort of hidden cruel nature, he

was going to help her.

He wiggled his eyebrows and said, “I’ve waited a long time to hear those words, Camilla.”

So much for the real Marco.
Time to shut his bullshit down. Again. “You’ve known me for less than a week.”

“Maybe, but considering I’ve heard
of
you for years, it makes it that much sweeter.”

She resisted an eye roll and poked a claw into his chest. “Marco,” she growled in warning. “I thought

we’d agreed that you’d drop the act.”

“Believe me, Camilla, this isn’t an act.” He grabbed the hand near his chest and tugged. “Now, tell me

what you know and I’ll see if I can save your ass again”

Cam growled, but then she told him what she knew about the clue from Chichen Itza. Maybe if she

ignored his deliberate attempts to rile her up, he’d once again become the fierce, passionate man she’d

glimpsed earlier.

Although, she tried not to think too hard on why she wanted to see that version of Marco again.

Chapter Sixteen

Cam flipped her long hair over her shoulder for the tenth time. Annoyance wasn’t the only reason she

wished to put it back into a braid. “Stop staring at me.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Marco shrug. “You have pretty hair. Get used to it.”

She gave up trying to ignore him and looked him dead in the eye. “If we weren’t out in broad daylight,

I’d take out my knife and chop it all off if it would help you focus.”

“And if my grandmother had wheels, she’d be a bicycle.” He grabbed her hand and picked up his pace.

“Instead, let’s try focusing on the present. You’re supposed to be my girlfriend, so act like it.”

“I am,” Cam muttered, but decided that telling him any girlfriend of his would have to bitch slap him on

a regular basis would be counterproductive.

Since Richard had seen them earlier, they’d both changed their clothes and tried to alter their

appearances. Marco had slicked his hair back like the American men of the 1950s, and Cam had let her hair

down. She’d had it cropped short during her days in the Fed League, and until she could dye it or get a wig, this was the best she could do to disguise herself.

Earlier, she’d sent Zalika and Jacek back to the bed and breakfast since Zalika’s ankle had been acting

up. While Cam needed her to heal as fast as possible, she was used to looking out for the pair and wished

they were here to help.

She just hoped that Marco wouldn’t let her down.

Santa Lucia Park came into view and she saw that the empty tables had filled up. The table near the

edge of the plaza was stacked with binders.

She hoped they were filled with coins.

They reached the table and Marco squeezed her hand as a reminder—he was to do the talking. She

gritted her teeth and pasted a smile on her face. Doing nothing wasn’t her style, but she had neither charm nor the ability to speak Spanish, meaning that she was next to useless right now.

She watched as Marco teased and grinned with the people at the table. Even if she didn’t understand

ninety-nine percent of what they were saying, she could tell he was charming them. The funny thing was

that the smiles and humor didn’t quite reach his eyes. Most people wouldn’t notice it, but Cam had been

face to face with the man when he’d been fierce and angry, and right now, his eyes lacked the same depth of emotion.

Marco pinched her hip and winked at her. He’d seen her staring, which meant she’d never hear the end

of it later.

But thanks to the years working for the Fed League and DEFEND, Cam kept her cool. Considering he’d

stared at her boobs not that long ago, she had nothing to be embarrassed about.

The man sitting at the table made a motion for them to wait a moment and he went riffling inside one of

the boxes behind him. She raised an eyebrow in question, and Marco gave a one-shouldered shrug as if to

say, “I’m not sure what he’s doing.”

When Cam turned her head to watch the man behind the table, Marco’s hand curled over her hip and

tugged her against his side.

Her first reaction was to pull away, but then she stopped.
Remember, you’re supposed to be his

girlfriend.
She repeated the words inside her head. She’d had assignments in the past when she’d had to act a certain part to get information, but rarely with men, and certainly never with men that smelled as good as Marco.

Stop it, Melini. You’ve decided to eschew men, remember?
It was easy to tell herself that, until she remembered the kiss they’d shared inside the club. She knew it had only been part of Marco’s cover ID, but sitting on his muscled thighs while his tongue stroked hers…

Marco poked her in the side and stopped her dangerous thoughts from going any further. He would tease her about staring earlier, and she didn’t need to give him more fodder with something worse, like a

blush or dilated pupils. Because whether she wanted it to happen or not, she was officially turned on.

More than ever, she needed to find a way to put some space between her and Marco. He may have made

some promises, and seemed to be helping her, but she didn’t trust him. Not yet.

The man behind the table turned from his box with an envelope in his hand, and she wondered what

was inside.

Marco wasn’t entirely sure why he’d pulled Cam up against his side, but he rather liked how she fit. Not

only was she the perfect height—only a couple of inches shorter—but the hip under his hand flared just a

little, suiting the toned muscles of her body.

He still remembered how those hips had felt cradling his body back in the jungle, when Cam had tried

to struggle out of his ice bonds. Contrast that with the hesitant stroke of her tongue back in the club, and he was curious to see what she was like naked in a bed, with no danger or distractions around her. She’d

probably be wild, fighting him to be on top until he convinced her to cede control to him. Marco had never had such a partner, and the image made his cock twitch.

But then, the man he’d been chatting with—Jose—turned around and ruined his fantasy. Marco noticed

Cam looking the other way, and he poked her in the side to get her attention.

Jose had been surprised to hear him mention the Great-Tailed Grackle. But once he had explained he’d

heard of a special coin issued by the Spaniards that featured the bird, the man had turned and started

looking through one of his boxes. Since Marco doubted such a coin existed, to ask for it in such detail was the trigger Jose needed to give him the next clue.

He just hoped the clue wouldn’t send them on a wild goose chase. He was starting to like helping Cam,

but he had his other mission to worry about, too. Until he finished both of them, he’d never be able to go down to Colombia and help his family find his cousin’s murderer.

Jose said, “People sell all sorts of trinkets inside Chichen Itza, but if you want a truly unique Mexican

souvenir, then this is what you’re looking for.”

Marco took the proffered envelope. To open it, he released his hold on Cam. When she stepped away,

he instantly felt the loss of her heat.

He looked inside the envelope to find a modern-day peso and a letter.
Bingo.
“How much?”

“That one isn’t rare, so how about one hundred pesos?”

“Seventy-five.”

Jose smiled. “Deal.”

Marco paid the man, gave him and his wife a smile, and said, “Thank you. My girlfriend’s sister will

love this.”

He took Cam’s hand and led her out of the park, over to a shady spot down one of the empty side

streets. When they stopped, Cam removed her hand from his and stepped away. He didn’t like it so he

pulled her next to his side and said, “This way we can read it at the same time.”

She looked askance at him, but rather than push him away, she simply said, “Well, then, stop staring at

me and hurry up and open the damn thing.”

He grinned and took out the letter, but since it was written in the old language, he leaned down to Cam’s

ear and whispered the translation:

First the jungle, now off to the ocean. Visit the Bride of the Sea near the old walled city, on Wednesday
at twilight. Rosa Elena will have the answers you need.

Between Marco’s heat and his whisperings in her ear, Cam was having a hard time concentrating. She

had tried to step away and put at least a foot between Marco and herself, but then the blasted man had

pulled her back to his side. The next time they were alone, they were definitely going to have a talk about his demanding nature when they were in public. Just because she had been under the guise of his girlfriend, didn’t give him free liberties with touch or demands.

Marco’s voice stopped and she focused on the content of the letter. “At least we have until Wednesday

to figure out what ‘The Bride of the Sea’ means.”

He folded the paper and placed it back into the envelope. “There’s no need. The
Novia del Mar
is a famous statue in Campeche, a city that is about two and a half hours away.”

Her previous reasoning that Marco knew the area better than she had been sound. “So does that mean

we can leave Merida as soon as we swing by the bed and breakfast and collect my team?”

Marco turned toward her. “Remember when you said you would’ve offered to help me find my cousin’s

murderer? Does that offer still stand?”

He’s asking for my help?
Cam nodded, curious to see where this was going. “Of course.”

“Good, because I need to interview a witness in about an hour and you’re coming with me.”

He started to walk away, expecting her to follow, but she grabbed his arm and said in a low tone, “I’m

not a lackey you can order around. I won’t go anywhere until you, A: ask me to go, and B: tell me the

details.”

Marco turned and raised his eyebrow. “Are you going to give me the same courtesy next time, without

me having to pin you up against a wall?”

She remembered being caged by his heat.

Pushing the thought aside, she said, “Fine. First, we put the bullshit aside, and now we treat each other

as equals. I wonder what you’ll ask for next.”

One side of Marco’s mouth rose in a half-smile. “I know what I’m betting on.”

Cam cleared her throat, not wanting to think of the true meaning of his words. “No man-whore

behavior, remember?” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and started walking. “Now, catch up so you

can tell me what you know about these murders.”

Chapter Seventeen

An hour later, Marco stood inside a small house on one of the edges of the city, waiting for his witness

to stop crying.

The victim this time had been a twenty-four year old restaurant worker named Fernando Vega. Marco

didn’t have much information on Vega, which meant he was relying on Vega’s widow to determine if this

fire was related to the others or not.

And so far, it wasn’t going very well.

The sight of the young woman crying only reminded him of what his aunt back in Colombia must be

going through after hearing about his cousin Isa’s death.

The woman couldn’t tell him anything as long as she kept crying—he needed to try a new tactic. In an

effort to calm the widow down, Marco softened his voice. “Mrs. Vega, I know this is a difficult time for

you, but the more information I get, the greater the chance I can catch the arsonist. So again, I ask you, did your husband’s family have any connection with the AMT, either past or present?”

“I—,” Mrs. Vega started to sob again and he resisted a sigh. At this rate, they would walk away empty-

handed.

Marco had tried to approach this situation in a straightforward manner, but what had worked with the

man in Pisté was not going to work here.

He racked his brain, trying to think of a different way to approach the woman, when Cam moved from

the corner where she’d been standing and kneeled on the ground next to the woman’s chair.

Cam placed a gentle hand on the woman’s arm and said in accented Spanish, “What’s your name?”

“Ma-maria.”

Cam switched back to English. “Maria, can you still understand me?” Maria nodded and she continued.

“Maria, I lost my parents when I was eleven. Even now, it’s painful to talk about them.” She squeezed

Maria’s arm and the woman looked up. “But every once in a while, I force myself to talk about them

because if I always keep silent, and never tell people how kind or loving my parents had been, it would be like the world had forgotten them. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t want that to ever happen.”

Maria had stopped sobbing, but all Marco could do was stare at Cam. Never in a million years would he

have pictured her gently comforting a widow. Yet there she was, doing what he should’ve been doing from

the moment they’d walked in the door.

No doubt Cam had hidden her softer side to keep up her reputation within DEFEND. But now he’d seen

her empathy, he wondered what else she was hiding. Camilla Melini was fast becoming an enigma he

wanted to solve.

Maria Vega lowered her hands from her face, and Cam grasped one of Maria’s hands in her own before