Page 22 of Temptation and Treachery
“No.” And he didn’t offer more.
But he wasn’t one of her father’s rivals. This was too formal. Too regimented. Hope welled inside her for the first time in weeks.
“Do I get a phone call?” She was sure Leonard had taken her across the border, and she had no idea what rights she might have in Mexico.
He lowered the folder, pulling a cell from his pocket and sliding it to her. The shadow stepped up behind her. The flutter in her chest came back. Something clicked, then he pulled on her wrists and cut through the ties. She brought her hands forward, massaging her wrists as she squinted into the shadows. A dark figure from head to toe, still wearing the gear from the raid. She frowned.
“Who do you plan to call?”
She turned her attention back, parting her lips, but stopped before she said his name. The number she’d memorized glowed a bright neon in her mind’s eye, yet she hesitated. What good would it do now? What could she say? Hi, Rio, I’m sorry I haven’t called you. I think I’m in Mexico, in custody by God knows who. She sagged. No, she wouldn’t call. They’d spent a little more than a weekend together. For her, it had changed her life, in every way possible. For him… Tears burned behind her eyes. “There’s—” She shook her head, ever so slowly. “There’s no one,” she whispered.
“Tell me about the Rialitos Ranch.”
The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. What was it? She looked back, knowing the man in the corner was the cause.
“Victoria,” the interrogator called.
“Celeste,” she replied without thinking. Then it hit her. That imposing way he stood there, arms crossed, practically taking up the whole wall. She rose. The interrogator pushed his chair back, circling the table when he saw her take a few tentative steps. “Sit back down, Victoria.”
Those arms. His stance. Her reactions every time he came near. The truth barreled through her, leaving her lightheaded. “Rio?” The giant didn’t even twitch, but the other guy stopped in his tracks. No. This couldn’t be. God, please let me be wrong. But those arms. She’d spent so much time surrounded by them. “You’re Rio, aren’t you.” She swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat. He reached behind his head, pulling off the goggles and mask in one swipe, tossing them to the interrogator without taking his eyes off her.
“No.” Her voice broke on the single word. She could have been pelted with freezing rain the way her body temperature shot down. “No. No. No.” The words grew stronger as her father’s voice echoed in her head. Men will use you to get to me. Every memory, every touch. The days she’d thought to be the best days of her life. Men will use you… They were all a lie. “How could you?” He crossed his arms again, staring down at her with disdain. Something snapped inside her. She smacked his forearm, the slap echoing around them. “How could you do this to me?” Her other hand followed. Tears broke through, and her body trembled. But she couldn’t stop. “How could you?” He didn’t budge. She fisted her hands landing blows on his arms and chest. Anger turned dark, aimed directly at him, and a part of her brain realized she’d finally learned to hate. “Bastard. I hate you!” Then she pulled back and went for his face. She struck his jaw before Rio moved.
Strong hands grabbed her from behind, throwing her into the wall. With tears blurring her eyes and Rio’s arm under her ribs, she could barely breathe. “I’ve got her.” The voice that had murmured such sweet and dirty things to her was now hard, dispassionate. Her heart crumbled.
“Don’t touch me.” She pushed back, shoving her hair out of her face. Hating her body’s reaction to him. He reached out, and she shot her arm out to brace against his chest. “No.” Anger spurred her to strike again. “You bastard. You don’t get—”
“Enough.” His voice boomed over her, but she struck him, then pulled back to do so again. In one quick move, he ducked and caught her in the midsection, with his shoulder. She went flying over, losing precious air. “St-stop.” Blinded by her hair and the shadowy corner, she kicked and swung back to catch his head. She twisted sideways, slipping off his shoulder and plummeting toward the floor, catching the back of the metal chair square in her chest. She knocked what little wind was left in her lungs clean out and finished the fall on her hands and knees.
Cursing under his breath, Rio grabbed her, jerking her off the floor. “No. Preg—” Panicked she clawed at his vest, desperate to keep him from throwing her over his shoulder again. “Preg…” she wheezed, struggling for breath, “…nant.” Too late. She landed hard. Her lungs started a slow burn, enough that she could feel the outline of each one. Try as she might, she couldn’t suck in air. The world tilted, and she opened her mouth to scream.
