gratitude. “He’ll return. And
then we’ll spot him, catch him.”
“He may have friends. Change his clothes so he appears different to us.”
She picked up a tapa between her fingers and put the luscious beef to his lips.
Taking her cue, he nibbled the delicacy off her fingertips, being certain to linger longer than necessary. With a swipe of his tongue, he licked the juices from her flesh the same way he would lave all of her later. Later. He saw her shiver. His own arousal, hot and hard. pressed against the zipper of his trousers. Swallowing, he caressed her with his eyes, hoping she saw in them the promise of savage, lusty acts.
She blushed, then pushed a large goblet of ruby wine toward him. “No one lives by
work alone. Enjoy our lunch, Raul. We’ll catch him. Together.”
He caught her fingers in his hand and caressed them. “The best way.”
Raul prayed it was so. Pilar seemed ready to work with Enrique. He hoped to god
she was ready to share everything with him.
* * * * *
At eight that night, Pilar emerged from the shower, freshly shampooed and dressed
to join Raul in her kitchen. With her frilly pink apron on over a purple polo and jeans, he looked like the not-so-average handsome-as-sin detective preparing dinner for his
lover. He also appeared to be an expert cook with the way he effortlessly chopped
onions.
She smiled to herself, admiring him and his gentle ways. He was so easy to be with.
Easy to work with. Kind and so damn beautiful he ought to be in pictures. Patient too.
A useful trait for an investigator.
God knew they had needed patience for their work today. Their entire afternoon
had been a frustrating search for small clues with even smaller rewards. Their little man in the black knit hat had not reappeared. Enrique’s team had made no progress on clues found with Graham’s body. And even though Enrique had pressured the local officials
at the maritime commission, no maps arrived to aid them.
Despite that lack, she and Raul had charted a surveillance boat from a rental
company and taken a trip around the harbor. They had learned precisely two facts. One was that Roca Oil certainly did have exposed shoreline on the northern aspect of its
facilities. A ten-foot electric fence surrounded the site, but it sagged badly at one stretch 55
Desiree Holt & Cerise DeLand
as if someone had scaled it recently. Yes, the fence was still electrified. They had thrown items at it to see if they would spark. They did. But she and Raul speculated that with a ladder, an agile man could jump the fence. The other fact the two of them learned as
they motored close to the mysterious island was that the large house she had spotted
earlier looked more like a mansion, well protected by its own surveillance cameras and concrete walls.
Taking a bottle of cava from her wine cooler, she sidled next to him and kissed him
on the shoulder. “I will be careful when I tell you about my talents with a knife. You’re not so shoddy yourself.”
“Thanks, cara . But my skills are on a chopping block. And with a gun.”
She worked on the champagne-like cork, grinning at him. “A marksman?”
“Guilty.”
She shivered. “Glad you told me. I don’t want to learn the hard way.”
“Stick close then,” he said with a wicked grin.
“I will,” she murmured.
“While you were in the shower, a fax came through for you.” He pointed the knife
in the direction of her desk in the far corner of the living room.
“Who’s it from?” she asked without any forethought and watched with chagrin as
he locked his dark eyes on hers.
“I have no idea.”
“You didn’t look?”
His stark expression told her, Of course not .
She felt like a fool. He hadn’t looked. This was not his fax. Not his apartment. Not
his business. Again she had to remind herself he was not Rhys. Nodding at him
expressionlessly, she popped the cork and placed the wine bottle on the granite and
strode to her fax. A
then we’ll spot him, catch him.”
“He may have friends. Change his clothes so he appears different to us.”
She picked up a tapa between her fingers and put the luscious beef to his lips.
Taking her cue, he nibbled the delicacy off her fingertips, being certain to linger longer than necessary. With a swipe of his tongue, he licked the juices from her flesh the same way he would lave all of her later. Later. He saw her shiver. His own arousal, hot and hard. pressed against the zipper of his trousers. Swallowing, he caressed her with his eyes, hoping she saw in them the promise of savage, lusty acts.
She blushed, then pushed a large goblet of ruby wine toward him. “No one lives by
work alone. Enjoy our lunch, Raul. We’ll catch him. Together.”
He caught her fingers in his hand and caressed them. “The best way.”
Raul prayed it was so. Pilar seemed ready to work with Enrique. He hoped to god
she was ready to share everything with him.
* * * * *
At eight that night, Pilar emerged from the shower, freshly shampooed and dressed
to join Raul in her kitchen. With her frilly pink apron on over a purple polo and jeans, he looked like the not-so-average handsome-as-sin detective preparing dinner for his
lover. He also appeared to be an expert cook with the way he effortlessly chopped
onions.
She smiled to herself, admiring him and his gentle ways. He was so easy to be with.
Easy to work with. Kind and so damn beautiful he ought to be in pictures. Patient too.
A useful trait for an investigator.
God knew they had needed patience for their work today. Their entire afternoon
had been a frustrating search for small clues with even smaller rewards. Their little man in the black knit hat had not reappeared. Enrique’s team had made no progress on clues found with Graham’s body. And even though Enrique had pressured the local officials
at the maritime commission, no maps arrived to aid them.
Despite that lack, she and Raul had charted a surveillance boat from a rental
company and taken a trip around the harbor. They had learned precisely two facts. One was that Roca Oil certainly did have exposed shoreline on the northern aspect of its
facilities. A ten-foot electric fence surrounded the site, but it sagged badly at one stretch 55
Desiree Holt & Cerise DeLand
as if someone had scaled it recently. Yes, the fence was still electrified. They had thrown items at it to see if they would spark. They did. But she and Raul speculated that with a ladder, an agile man could jump the fence. The other fact the two of them learned as
they motored close to the mysterious island was that the large house she had spotted
earlier looked more like a mansion, well protected by its own surveillance cameras and concrete walls.
Taking a bottle of cava from her wine cooler, she sidled next to him and kissed him
on the shoulder. “I will be careful when I tell you about my talents with a knife. You’re not so shoddy yourself.”
“Thanks, cara . But my skills are on a chopping block. And with a gun.”
She worked on the champagne-like cork, grinning at him. “A marksman?”
“Guilty.”
She shivered. “Glad you told me. I don’t want to learn the hard way.”
“Stick close then,” he said with a wicked grin.
“I will,” she murmured.
“While you were in the shower, a fax came through for you.” He pointed the knife
in the direction of her desk in the far corner of the living room.
“Who’s it from?” she asked without any forethought and watched with chagrin as
he locked his dark eyes on hers.
“I have no idea.”
“You didn’t look?”
His stark expression told her, Of course not .
She felt like a fool. He hadn’t looked. This was not his fax. Not his apartment. Not
his business. Again she had to remind herself he was not Rhys. Nodding at him
expressionlessly, she popped the cork and placed the wine bottle on the granite and
strode to her fax. A
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