Intimate Enemies (26 page)

A burst of Cassie’s laughter made Rio laugh too. Which made him remember how they’d laughed during. He hadn’t laughed during, or after, sex in years.

With a warm water-dampened towel and a handful of condoms from where he kept them in the bathroom—way too far for him to have left her to get one—he returned to her, tossed the condoms on the nightstand, and carefully wiped her clean, then dried her stomach. He leaned down to press a kiss there, inhaling his scent on her skin.

“Condoms,” she said, voice soft, hands caressing his shoulders. “We forgot…”

“It’s okay,” he said against her skin before planting another kiss and rolling to his side next to her, when what he really wanted to do was smother her with his body.

“Oh my God. I can’t believe I forgot…
Me
, of all people…”

“Good to know I can distract the common sense out of you.” He splayed his hand over her belly button, slid it to her hip, and rolled her toward him. She looped an arm around his neck, a pained look pulling at her brow. “Hey. I’ve got your back.” He dropped kisses on her forehead to smooth it, fell backward, and dragged her halfway on top of him. “I’ll never let anything happen to you, love.”

* * * * *

The red LED numbers on the bedside clock flicked from 3:59 to 4:00, and Cassie couldn’t procrastinate any longer. If she did, there would be some rough consequences she wasn’t ready to face—starting with the one lying snuggled to her back.

A big part of her wanted to stay here in the warm security of his arms, experience his passion again. His sensuality. She sighed and hugged his arm where it was wrapped tight around her chest, his hand covering her breast. He was just too good to be true. So sensual, he slid his hands over her body like a sculptor; his mouth seemed to cherish her. And he talked as they made love, said things that made her feel beautiful, accomplished, and so sexual. And they’d laughed, played. Had damn
fun
. She smiled just thinking about his flash of dimples, his challenging sense of humor, the way his eyes sparkled when he was happy.

He turned her on like no one ever had. Like she never imagined anyone ever would. Made her feel things she didn’t know were possible. All while giving her a sense of comfort and safety.

She didn’t want to leave.

But he was definitely too good to be true. She’d worked it around a thousand different ways in her mind since he’d fallen asleep, and she had to face the reality that there were major unresolved issues between them. Like…major. He was either a murderer or a pathological liar or an accomplice.

Or a cop.

Her heart, her gut, told her he was something good. If not a cop, something similar. But her intellect… She didn’t know what her intellect told her anymore. Everything was so muddied. Especially now with his erection riding her ass and her body urging her to take him again. Which was another reason she needed to get out of his bed—because if she didn’t, not only would she jump him, she’d wake up to him in the morning and have to look at him looking at her after all she’d said and done to him all night long. All she’d let him do to her all night long. She could barely deal with her behavior in the dark thrill of the moment. The thought of dealing with it in bright daylight, of having to work with him at the clinic all day like normal people after what they’d spent the night doing…

“Good Lord,” she whispered, as her face flamed. She had to find a way to deal, but she needed some room to figure out how.

She gently, slowly, pulled his arm loose from her body and slid out from under it, holding her breath and gritting her teeth against sore muscles and the ache between her legs, then lowered it back to the bed. Rio didn’t stir. She stood there a minute admiring him in sleep by the light of the moon through the windows. Comforter kicked off, sheets tangled around his legs, all that bronze skin and muscle stretched out languorously across the bed. Her body tightened with want. Her heart swelled with affection.

Please, God, let him be good.

Please.

His hand slid across the sheets where she’d been, and he rolled that direction. He was reaching for her, and Cassie’s already swollen heart floated to her throat.

“Cass?” he rasped.

“Here,” she said, curling her fingers into fists. “Bathroom.”

He relaxed, his body sinking back into the bed. “Come back to me?”

She bit the inside of her lip against the burn of tears. “I will.”

But she stood there in the dark until his breathing evened out and his muscles loosened in sleep. Then she slipped into her cover-up, scanned the floor for her bra and panties, and picked up the three—
good Lord, three?
—condom wrappers during the search.

On the nightstand, she spied the water bottle Rio had brought back from the kitchen and grabbed for it. She was thirsty enough to drink a river. But it was empty.

The hallway was dark, and she had to feel her way down the hall. In the living room, the moonlight flowed in through the wide windows. The laptop, glass coffee table, and plastic water bottle she’d tossed on the sofa reflected the moonlight, turning silver and standing out from the shadowed furnishings. She went for the water first and downed half the bottle, savoring the coolness of it on her dry throat.

With a sigh, she turned toward the door. Her shin tapped the coffee table. The laptop whirred and spit out a single beep. A blue screen faded on and felt as bright as the midday sun in the dark room. Panic burned, and Cassie darted a look at the hallway. No Rio. She bent to close the lid just as another screen rose from the task bar and replaced the blue background.

Her gaze froze on the image. She drew a sharp breath at the same instant an icy stab pierced her stomach. It was
her
. In her hospital photos. Those horrid, nightmarish hospital photos. Her mind circled and circled but couldn’t land. How?
How
had they found their way to Rio’s computer?

Heart beating hard against her ribs, Cassie sat on the edge of the sofa, bundled her clothes in her lap, and started searching for information, trying like hell to keep her attention off the photos. Which immediately brought her mind directly to the realization that was where Rio had been focused when she’d walked in.

A hundred thoughts clicked off in her head at once. Hurt hit her first—that vulnerable sense of shame. But betrayal was right there, blending in anger. How could he invade her privacy like this? Nothing she was doing here warranted his knowledge of her medical history. Which brought her right back around to: How the hell did he get it? How this knowledge had affected his behavior in bed last night—or if it had possibly been the reason he’d taken her to bed—was far too major and intricate for her to consider now. She had to focus on the how first.

With urgency holding back her emotions, she scoured the pages for ownership, for an originating site or sender, but found nothing. Tabs on the top bar read Family, Education, Medical, Associates, Legal. That knife in her stomach twisted.

“My God.” Her fingers were shaking when she used the mouse pad to move the arrow to the Associates file and click.

An error box popped up that said the session had timed out and the user would have to log back in to access files. But there was no identification of who the user was or where those files were stored. She redirected the mouse to the title bar and right clicked with the hope of uncovering something from the properties information, but another box popped up. This one with a spinning hour glass and a message that read:
shutting down
.

“No,” she whispered, frantically searching for a way to stop the shutdown. “No, no, no.”

But with a series of split-second diminishing boxes, the screen cleared, leaving Cassie stunned and helpless.

In a last-ditch effort, she clicked through the main programs, performed an advanced search, looked through the system information. She did everything her limited computer knowledge brought to mind, but it was as if this computer belonged to a ghost. There were no files in use, no temporary files, no download files. Rio’s name, Saul’s name, her name, the estate’s name…absent.

She stared at the blank screen with a heavy, frightening sense of dread shooting ice down her limbs. “Who the hell did I just sleep with?”

Sixteen

Cassie slid into the Jeep’s front seat and checked the streets.
Muertos
were easier to spot now, including the ones who’d confronted her and Rio the morning before. But no one approached her—thanks to Rio.

“She’s mine. If you fuck with her, you fuck with me.”

A shiver crossed her shoulders, and Cassie lifted and rolled them to ease the discomfort. Just when she thought Rio had turned into her ally, she discovered something new that turned him back into the enemy, and now that her emotions were so deeply involved, she couldn’t see anything clearly.

She’d stopped by the clinic to pick up files so she could work on them at the estate, but she was pushing her luck at avoiding Rio so far this morning. Setting the files on the rear floorboard, she turned the key in the Jeep’s ignition, then fastened her seat belt and checked the side mirror for traffic. Hopefully, this next stop would settle her nerves and give her enough information about Rio to allow her the confidence she needed to face him. Without that, she wasn’t ready to outright accuse him of anything, because, well, she didn’t know what the hell to accuse him of. Didn’t know if it was smart or safe to accuse him. Or confront him. Or even be alone with him again.

“I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

“Shit.” She would have gripped the steering wheel tighter, but her hands hurt. From stroking him, gripping him, holding on to him as he’d… “
God
.”

She flexed her fingers and found her opening in traffic. Eased her foot off the brake.

The passenger door slammed at the same time the Jeep rocked from a new weight. Cassie pressed the brake and jumped so hard her seat belt dug into her shoulder. Her hands came off the wheel as she twisted toward the threat in defense.

And looked into a familiar pair of Ray-Bans.

Her stomach exploded with fire—a mixture of excitement and fear. Rio’s face was taut, his mouth thin. He leaned toward her and gripped the back of her neck with one hand—much the way he had last night while they’d made love. Then it had been gentle, coaxing her into kisses, guiding her face to his. Then it had felt nurturing. Even loving. Now it was altogether different.

“What would you do,” he said, low and slow, “if I was Paco? And my hand was a gun?”

Fear raced across her skin, joined with anger. “You—”

“What’s this?” A male voice came from the passenger’s side. Rio’s grip eased as he turned that direction. “Lover’s quarrel?”

“What is your problem?” Rio said, all attitude. “Why can’t you mind your own damned business?”

Paco wasn’t looking at Rio through the passenger’s window, where he’d approached the Jeep. He stared at Cassie with a half grin that made her stomach go cold. “You’re in my territory, amigo. That makes you my business. And she is more fascinating by the day. A doctor, eh?”

“The
Diablos
may have something to say about this being your territory.” Rio released Cassie’s neck, and he faced Paco. “And she is
not
your business. I made that clear yesterday.”

“That was yesterday.” He focused his gaze on Rio. “And the more information I get, the more difficult it’s becoming for me to pretend she’s not my business. Especially when she doesn’t exactly lie low, if you know what I mean.”

“I’m working on it,” Rio said, clear frustration vibrating in his voice. “You know women, Paco, not the easiest species to contain.”

“And you know bosses, Rio. Not the easiest species to reason with. I can only look the other way so long, amigo.” Paco’s voice lowered. He looked both ways along the street, then back at Rio. “I owe you, amigo, but my boss doesn’t. If she’s really that important, and it were me, I’d run her to the border.”

He tapped a palm on the door, stood up, and yelled to three of his gang members who followed as he sauntered down the street.

Rio didn’t say anything for a long time, just watched them walk while his jaw pulsed beneath his skin.

“What was that?” she finally asked.

“Sounded like a hell of a blatant warning to me,” he said without looking at her. “I don’t suppose you’d consider that run to the border.”

Oh, yeah, he was definitely pissed. Paco’s confrontation had only given his anger a crack to ooze from. But it had lit the fuse on a firebomb of questions for Cassie.

“You suppose correctly. How is my investigating Saul causing trouble for the
Muertos
? How is my building a clinic living in the limelight? It’s not like I go out of my way to interact with them. I just stopped by to pick up some paperwork on my way to visit Lorena.”

His shoulders slumped. His head fell back against the seat. And, God, all Cassie could think about was the way he’d looked last night in the same position. Her gaze skimmed down his body and rested in his lap. Her mouth went dry. The craving to feel him, to taste him burst low in her belly.

“Seriously?”

His irritated voice brought her gaze back to his face. He pushed his sunglasses up on his head and met her eyes. She hadn’t been prepared for the intimacy of the connection. Looking into his eyes squeezed her heart and twisted her stomach.

Evidently, he didn’t notice. “I know you are an intelligent woman, Cass, but I’m really beginning to wonder about your common sense.”

She sat back, shoved the car in Park, and crossed her arms. “Fuck you. Get out.”

“Been there, done that. Would really, really,
really
like to do it again, even though you lied to me. But, no, I’m not getting out. Where you go, I go. You heard every damn thing I whispered to you last night. So I know you heard Paco’s not-so-veiled threat.”