Ricardo (The Santiago Brothers Book Three) by K. Victoria Chase Page A

Lessons about what?” Ric held a glass to his lips.
    “Love making.”
    Ric spat the liquid out across the rug near the bed.
    “You are supposed to swallow.”
    “Thanks for the tip. However.” His eyes strayed to Mel and warmed as they lingered on her. “I don’t think I need help in the love making department.”
    The flush was now permanent, Mel was sure of it.
    Hakeem cleared his throat. “A gentleman does not kiss and tell.”
    “I wasn’t telling,” Ric protested. “But I was kissing,” he muttered. He shot her a wink.
    Hakeem’s gaze swiftly moved to her, and Mel decided to ignore the possibility that Hakeem had overheard Ric’s last statement.
    “My flower,” Hakeem began. “Do not settle for boys when you can have a man.”
    “Or a geriatric,” Ric mumbled.
    Mel graciously smiled at Hakeem. “Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.”
    Ric’s steady gaze on her had a flicker of irritation. “Not for long,” he whispered.
    Her heart thudded in her chest. Mel looked away, shaken to the core by not only the shimmer of desire she read in Ric’s gaze, but how her own body responded. Suffocating heat, and if she perspired anymore, she’d ask Hakeem to refill the tub with fresh, cold water.
    “Thanks, Hakeem.” Ric waved him away.
    “You are welcome. I will return in an hour.”
    After several minutes of tense silence coupled with utensils scraping across plates, Mel was the first to break the silence. “I, ah… I owe you a truth.”
    “Mmm.” Ric swallowed and patted his mouth with a cloth. “You sure do. Spill.”
    “I…” She dipped her head at the surprising sting behind her eyes. “There was this man in college. My boyfriend.”
    “Go on.”
    “He… He…”
    Her heart rammed in her chest. Ashamed, she couldn’t even look at Ric. What she had to say, she hadn’t told anyone except her shrink and besides her shrink, only her granny knew the truth as she had experienced something similar when she was a young woman.
    Mel continued. “I’ve been visiting a shrink for something that happened in college.” Yes, the shrink. That was a truth she could reveal without giving him specifics — if he hadn’t guessed already. She chanced a peek at him and saw his solemn gaze on her. He jabbed a fork into a vegetable and lifted it to his mouth. For the next, and longest minute ever, he chewed slowly before he took a swig of water.
    His eyes, filled with compassion, held hers. “I get it. What you have to say is painful and you’re still recovering from that heartache. If this is too much, too soon…you don’t have to say anymore.” He cleared his throat and pushed his plate away. “I didn’t necessarily mean for this to be a joke. I just want you to be able to trust me. Out here, we’re dealing with a nameless, faceless enemy and you can’t trust anyone beyond me and Hakeem. I can’t trust anyone. If we do — if we open ourselves up to the wrong people — we’ll spend eternity rotting here in the desert. No one will find us. No one will ever hear from us again.”
    Mel swallowed at the choking sensation in her throat. He was serious. Deadly serious. She knew how terrorism worked. Only a small window of opportunity existed to discover who the enemy was and what they were going to do before lives were lost.
    And in the process, she and Ric could lose their lives.
    Ric wasn’t the enemy, but someone else was. She could, had to, trust him with her life or she’d never return home. “Okay. I trust you.”
    A dark brow rose as curiosity flashed across his tanned features. “You do?”
    She nodded. “Yes.”
    “Just like that?”
    “Well, not exactly.”
    That impish grin was back and his eyes darkened just a bit as he broke eye contact and stared at her lips. “Something helped it along, eh? Your trust in me, that is.”
    She wanted to hurl her drink at him but it was too cold to let it go to waste. Instead, she took two generous sips before she spoke. “The story of the cut