Intimate Enemies (14 page)

“Aren’t you still smoking Partagas?” she asked Saul. “That smells like a Bahia.”

By the time she’d paused at the sofa and leaned her hip against the arm, Rio had learned how to fill his lungs again, but his cock had also filled his pants, and he had to shift on his feet to find comfort.

Without waiting for Saul to answer, she turned to Rio. Her warm gaze traveled the length of his body, slowly, as if she were taking in every detail. Before he could turn or move behind the chair to his right, she paused at his hips. His muscles tightened with excitement. Maybe nerves. But hell if he knew why. Her gaze lingered there, and her hand resting on the sofa tightened in the soft leather, then released. His body responded as if her fingers had been on his cock. An electric shot of lust ripped through his groin and straight up his chest, wrapped around his heart, and pushed it into a quick, tripping rhythm.

“You’re right,
mija
, this is a Bahia.” Saul’s voice drew her attention away from Rio’s body, leaving him both relieved and disappointed. “You have your mother’s acute sense of smell.” He looked down at the tip of his cigar. His mouth turned down, brow crumpled in grief. “In fact, this is the last of a box your mother gave me for Christmas last year.”

Rio fought a roll of his eyes. He’d picked up those Bahias for Saul just last month to the ludicrous tune of fifteen grand—six hundred dollars a cigar.

Saul placed an arm around Cassie’s shoulders. “Quite a change, Rio,
sì
?”

Cassie endured the touch only a moment before pulling away. She’d done something with her hair. It was sleek and shiny, with loose curls around her face. And much longer than he’d realized, reaching several inches past bare shoulders. The dark strands framed her oval face, that full mouth that had sent him into the stratosphere, her delicate chin and nose, the swell of slanted cheekbones. Damn, she wasn’t just pretty. She was fucking gorgeous. His mouth tasted like dust. A boulder-size knot sat wedged beneath his ribs.

God, he wanted her. Far more than was safe or smart.

He cleared his throat. “Quite.”

“Shall we?” Saul gestured toward the dining room.

Rio stood back and let Cassie pass. His mind drifted to a fleeting fantasy of standing behind her, sliding his hands up her smooth thighs, under that skirt, and over her perfect ass that he was damn sure had to be covered in silk.

His throat was as dry as the Sonoran Desert. Hell. This was going to be one long dinner.

Saul seated himself at the head of the table to Cassie’s right, which left Rio sitting across from her. The chandelier made Cassie’s golden skin glow against the cream fabric of her dress and turned her nearly black hair a lighter bittersweet chocolate. She’d dusted some kind of makeup on, because her cheeks were a little rosier than usual, her eyelids sparkled, and her lips…her lips had a shine that made them look wet. The way they’d looked earlier when he’d pulled away after kissing her.

Cassie adjusted her chair and eased her elbows onto the table, hugging those perfect—
perfect
—breasts together. His craving had grown so strong his brain hazed at the edges, and fantasies floated in and out of rational thought. He had to focus on that beautiful face to keep his attention from drifting to her cleavage. Tender, sensitive skin he imagined would be as soft as petals against his tongue, his lips, his fingers, his…

Sweet Jesus.

Marta swept in with salads on her arm, gaze downcast, according to Saul’s rules of propriety, unlike Cassie and her elbows on the table, which, of course, Rio loved.

“Good evening, Señor Flores,” Marta greeted.

Saul didn’t respond. Marta set a plate in front of him, and Cassie kept her gaze on Saul, obviously waiting for the customary introductions. Since Rio knew Saul wouldn’t treat a servant as anything other than a servant, he decided to give Cassie what she wanted in an attempt to head off an immediate argument.

He cleared the thickness from his throat, but his voice still sounded rough. “Marta. This is Cassandra Christo”—God, her name felt good in his mouth—“Señor Flores’s stepdaughter.”

Marta made a partial bow and offered a smile. “Señorita.”

“Nice to meet you.” Cassie held out her hand. Marta hesitated. She stared at Cassie’s hand as if confused, darted a look between Cassie’s face and Saul’s. Something must have clicked, because the puzzled look faded, and she accepted Cassie’s gesture. Then she exited the room like an anxious mouse.

Cassie’s lazy gaze turned to Saul. “I can see you’re still charming the help.”

“I don’t know what you mean. Marta and I get on fine, don’t we, Rio?”

“Yes, sir, you do,” Rio answered dutifully while laying his napkin on his lap.

“That’s only because she accepts being treated as a servant instead of a person,” Cassie said.

“I have the utmost respect for the girl,
mija
.” Saul smiled indulgently and changed the subject. “I also have the perfect solution for you.”

Inwardly, Rio sighed. This was going to be a long night in more ways than he’d imagined. He lifted a bottle of red wine toward Cassie’s glass and watched the deep crimson swirl into the crystal.

“Solution?” she asked. “There is only one problem I have that you could solve, Saul, and I doubt the solution would be amenable to you.”

Rio looked up and right into those eyes, watching him. While Rio wanted nothing more than to find a solution that would allow them to be together, he couldn’t envision that happening until at least a month from now. And by then, she’d have seen enough to hate him beyond redemption.

“The clinic.” Saul’s words drew her attention. Thank God. They weren’t even through the salad course and Rio was sweating.

“What about it?”

“I’ve found the perfect person to manage the project for you so you can return to your schooling.”

Cassie’s jaw went rigid. She dropped her arms and set the phone she’d been holding—and one Rio hadn’t seen because he’d been too distracted—on the table. Great. Another violation of Saul’s rules.

“I’m done with my
schooling
, Saul.”

“Cassandra, you know I don’t allow phones at the table. And this…what do you call it, fellowship? Isn’t that just another form of schooling? Like residency?”

“No. It’s not. And I don’t live by your rules, Saul. I only tolerated them when Mamà and Santos were alive to keep the peace—for their sakes. And I don’t need someone to manage the clinic. Nina has done a wonderful job, and I’m here now.”

Saul sipped his wine, then cradled the glass in his hand, but the way he looked at the crystal and not at Cassie clued Rio in to Saul’s diminishing patience. And they hadn’t even been in the same room for ten damn minutes.

“I’m on the board of directors for the new community center,” Saul said, “and I know a woman who’s fabulous with procurement and management. She’s handled countless developments of this type. I spoke with her at our meeting this afternoon, and since the community center is still in the planning stages, she has the extra time to take on another project. She was very excited about the clinic, would like very much to be involved.”

Cassie looked directly at Rio with a deadpan expression and said, “This is like talking to a wall.”

A burst of laughter popped in his throat, and he covered it with a cough.

“
Mija
.” Saul threaded his fingers together above his plate. “Since you insist on staying, we need to talk about security. That neighborhood is infested with gangs, just blocks from the harbor. There have been many murders and kidnappings over that territory in recent months, and the violence is only escalating. I told you that area wasn’t a good location for a medical facility housing drugs.”

“And I told you that the clinic needs to be self-sufficient after the first year. That couldn’t happen if I’d chosen another, higher-priced location. I’ve already had this conversation with Rio.” The look she shot Rio could have left burn marks. “And as I told him, I can take care of myself. I’m perfectly safe, and the clinic doesn’t need security.”

Not the conversation they’d had at all, but after what an ass he’d been on the street, he didn’t blame her for forgetting all about nearly suggesting they take that kiss back to the estate and straight to bed.

Saul’s brow creased in a frown. “My dear, have you read the papers lately?”

His condescending you-stupid-female tone made Rio brace, sure Cassie would hiss like an angry cat, ready to claw at Saul’s eyes. But she just pierced an elusive cherry tomato with her fork and lifted her gaze, meeting Saul’s steadily.

“Why is it that neither of you seems to think I keep abreast of current events?” she asked but didn’t wait for an answer. “As a matter of fact, I have. Along with the gang rivalry, human trafficking has become a serious problem in Baja.”

“Illegal immigration has been going on for decades,
mija
. You’re American because your mother crossed the border in the trunk of a car. You can hardly begrudge others the fortune you’ve found.”

“You would have never said that in Mamà’s presence. Easy to be bold when the woman who controls your finances is
dead
, isn’t it?”

Good Lord, Saul didn’t need any reminders of his troubles with Alejandra or suggestions for dealing with the woman who
currently
controlled his finances. He was starting to realize that she and Saul shared a willingness to risk their own lives in order to slay the other. Rio understood that level of hatred. He’d learned it at five years old when he’d been forced to stand by while his oldest sister was raped and murdered for a few hundred dollars. But maturity and training had taught him the value of patience and planning. He couldn’t fathom how these two ambitious, intelligent people had missed that lesson.

“Cassandra, don’t be crass at the table. And put that phone away.”

“What’s next? A slight about my father? About the kind of
work
”
—
she put the word in air quotes
—
“Mamà did for a rich, white, older man?”

“I had no intention of bringing that up,” Saul said. “I was merely making a point about—”

“There’s a huge difference between illegal immigration and human trafficking, Saul. Don’t try to downplay the severity of kidnapping and selling women as sex slaves or indentured servants.”

These two were like trained fighting dogs in a ring. Rio cut in before one went for a jugular.

“There
is
a growing problem with smuggling, that’s true.” Rio’s comment drew Cassie’s hot gaze, but not heated in the way he preferred. “But as I explained this morning, your clinic is located in the middle of a turf war.”

“I could spare Rio at the moment.” Saul sent Rio a serious nod, pleased with his intervention. “I think it would be a good idea to have him there.”

“No.” Cassie’s hard, final rejection pinched Rio’s chest. “We’re fine. We have half a dozen construction workers around us all the time.”

“Construction workers hardly compare to Rio.”

She laughed. Most wouldn’t have noticed the sexual undertone in the soft sound, but Rio couldn’t miss it when his body reacted like a grenade. She put down her fork, layered one hand over the other, and settled her chin there, head tilted. Then sighed. Under different circumstances, Rio didn’t think he could have kept from taking her face between his hands and kissing her breathless.

“Yes.” She drew out the word with meaning. “I’ve…noticed. Why is that?”

“Because I only hire the best.” Saul lunged for her bait, the idiot. “You know that. Rio’s—”

“A perfectionist,” he cut in before Saul gave Cassie the entire background she’d tried to buy from Caesar. He was also getting a little annoyed with the one-sided sexual torture. She looked good enough to eat, and she damn well knew it. “I’m very detail oriented, you could say. Paying attention to often unspoken wishes, being able to anticipate needs and fill them—completely, consistently—has been successful for me. I always strive to deliver more than expected.”

“That’s all very…vague.” Her voice flowed in a sultry caress.

“I think it tells anyone interested in my qualifications everything that’s important. I’m very skilled at what I do.”

Her brows lifted. “Humble too.”

“Confident.”

She grinned, sly, teasing. “References?”

He laughed.
Hardly
. “Saul has all my prior employment references.”

The mention of Saul made her smile slide away, and Rio felt the loss immediately.

Cassie’s phone chirped. She looked down and picked it up. “That’s the call I’ve been waiting for. If you’ll excuse me.”

“Cassandra,” Saul said. “We haven’t even eaten.”

“I had a late lunch. Go ahead without me.”

Rio took one last luxurious scan of her body as she rose from the table, then a long draw of wine as she exited the house toward the beach.

He. Was. So. Fucked.

“What was that?” Saul asked, drawing Rio’s gaze.

“Excuse me?”

“That.” He pointed a lazy finger toward the seat Cassie had vacated. “That sexual banter.”

“You know women.” Rio lifted one shoulder. “She’s probably trying to figure out how to get me into bed just to spite you.”

“Hmmm.” Saul’s dark brows rose. Then he smiled at Rio and said, “That could be very useful.”

Nine

“Hi, Cass,” Natalie answered. “Hold on a sec, I have to get a report from the printer.”

Cassie wandered the beach, jaw clenched, stomach tight. Her sixth sense was pinging off alerts. Even the warm night air and cool sea water on her bare feet didn’t soothe her.

“I’m back,” Natalie said. “How are things going?”

“I don’t know. Everything is…really…”
—screwed to hell and back—
“weird.”

“Weird how?”

“I can’t figure this guy out. He’s trying to play both sides, and I don’t know why.”

“Of course you know why,” Natalie said. “He wants to get in your pants, and he wants to keep his job. Men are simple, Cass.”