She scrolled through her contact list for Enrique’s cell number that he’d given to her the day before.Her finger hovered over the button.Accusations burned on her tongue, though the pictures could mean anything.Maybe there was a logical explanation.Either way, she had to have this conversation in person.She had to see Enrique’s eyes as he denied or confirmed her worst fears.
One thing was certain—whoever had sent the photos wanted to upset her.
She set the phone aside and stomped across the room to stare out the windows.The view from the seventeenth story spanned the gorgeous Hermosillo skyline to the jagged mountain peaks along the horizon.Down below, countless vehicles sped by as pedestrians partook of the fancy boutiques, cafés, and grocery stores on the street.Libertad Torre, her new home, towered over the low-lying buildings and even the other high-rise condominiums in the area.If anyone was out there watching her through a telescope or with a pair of binoculars, she couldn’t tell.
Breathing through her nerves, Lourdes unpacked her pajamas, socks, and underwear in the sleek black dresser in the master suite and the rest of her clothes in the spacious walk-in closet.She trailed her fingers across Enrique’s fine linen, wool, and cotton suit jackets, then straightened a few colorful ties on a built-in rack.This was his home, his personal space—and he’d welcomed her with open arms.He deserved the benefit of the doubt.
She headed back down the hall toward her studio, then paused at his office door.Hislockedoffice door.He’d purposely thrown up a wall between them by banishing her from his work-life and the duty that made him who he was.That was no marriage.She wouldn’t wait at home like a good little wife, never knowing when he would return and who he had been with.As much as she loved her mother, she wanted something better.A decent marriage, equal support, understanding, and fidelity.
Fidelity.God save her.She was already questioning her husband’s faithfulness after only a day of marriage.That boded as well as hail in a thunderstorm.Destruction would follow.
Once she returned to the bedroom, she changed out of her work clothes and pulled on a long blue-striped skirt and a scoop-neck blouse to match.Then she slipped on her huarache sandals and grabbed her cell and purse.In the living room, the key to Enrique’s SUV begged her to take it from the shallow Aztec-inspired clay bowl on the side table.The jagged bit of metal weighed heavier in her hand than all her art supplies put together.The gleaming elevator doors opened with the push of a button, and she stepped onto the platform before she lost her nerve.
Whatever the truth about those photos, she had to find out.
Now.
Chapter Seventeen
“Boss, I got a hot littlething here who wants a job,” the bouncer called out as he entered the back office of Chicas Asesinas.
“Bring her in.”Tulio, the heavyset strip club manager, hauled himself up from his worn padded chair, which faced the desk that Enrique had commandeered for his inspection.
Repressing a frustrated sigh, Enrique double-checked the club’s inventory list on the desktop computer with the hard copy on his clipboard for the third time.The words and numbers blurred together, straining his already tired eyes.His head ached from the steadyba-dum ba-dum ba-dumthat seeped through the paper-thin beige walls.Even the cool air blowing from the overhead vent set his nerves on edge.He pressed the heels of his hands against his eye sockets to relieve the strain.Waking up early to find breakfast between Lourdes’s legs had been a stupid idea, but fuck, she tasted better than the coffee and greasy fish taco he’d scarfed down for lunch.
Inhaling through his nose, he gagged on the scent of cocoa butter.Ugh.He sneezed into the crook of his arm and cleared his sinuses.
“Need a drink?”Juana winked at him and filed her nails from her perch on the edge of his borrowed desk.Her sequined bra and denim short-shorts covered all the important bits, but left little else to the imagination.
He snorted and faced the screen.What he needed was toilet paper to stick up his nose.Better yet, Juana should scrub the cocoa scent from her skin and leave him the hell alone.
“Are you sure, man?”Tulio asked the bouncer.“This babe looks too prim.”
“Why don’t you let El Tajador decide that?”
Lourdes’s sharp voice snapped Enrique’s head up.His mouth fell open as she strode in and flashed him a smile that shot an icy tremor down his spine.
