Page 80 of Corrupting His Wife

Her man was loyal to a fault.

“You’re drooling,” Rascón teased from beside her on a stool and sipped his whiskey sour.

She brushed her fingers across her mouth, checking for drool, then popped her smirking bodyguard on the arm.“How can younotbe?These women are stunning.”

He shrugged, then winced, and rubbed his still-healing chest.“Like any of these girls would look at me twice with this eyesore.”He flicked the strap of his standard blue sling over his suit jacket.

“Oh, please.Martina gave you the once-over.Not that you’d notice from how fascinating you found your drink.”He’d stared at the glass the entire time Martina had spoken with her.Even though he’d lost a little weight since his ordeal, he was as handsome as ever.“You should be in bed, streaming a telenovela until your brain goes numb.Wearing the sling is the price you must pay to be at my side.”

Rascón had been adamant about returning to duty early, so she insisted he take every precaution to aid his recovery.He blamed himself for her kidnapping, like it was his fault he wasn’t bulletproof.With all the men wandering about, Enrique had instructed him not to leave her side on the threat of another hospital stay.All peacock puffing if anyone asked her.Enrique wouldn’t have paid off Rascon’s medical expenses if he didn’t care about him.

She cut her babysitter a mischievous smile.“Besides, aren’t you hoping to start up something with Marisol, your new physical therapist?”

Rascón pursed his lips, glancing away.

But not before she caught the glint of need in his eyes.

Thankfully, the bullets had passed through, missing all vital organs, though one fractured his collarbone.He bled out on the sidewalk before the paramedics saved his life.Rather, Marisol had saved him.She’d applied pressure to the worst of Rascón’s wounds and staunched the bleeding before help arrived.

Lourdes sipped her drink, then froze.

Manuel.

Carlota’s husband.

He left a secluded, shadowy alcove along the far wall with his arm draped around the waist of a curvy brunette.They headed toward the hallway, with the backrooms beyond it.

Lourdes’s stomach dropped.Pity and anger clenched her chest.Carlota deserved better.Yet rich, powerful men like Manuel stepping out wasn’t uncommon.If anything, it was the norm.Too bad Carlota was the one who suffered for it.

“You’ll never have to worry about that,” Rascón stated, the edge of contempt deepening his voice.“Martina is right.El Tajador only has eyes for you.”

“It took me a while, but I see that now.I trust him.”She truly did.The back of her neck prickled.She turned and met Enrique’s arched gaze across the sea of heads.She pointedly stared at the open doorway where Manuel had disappeared, then back at her husband.Enrique nodded, answering her unspoken question.

He’d seen Manuel, too.

She exhaled slowly as Enrique closed the space between them.Desire, love, and possession blazed in his deep-set eyes.Her pulse quickened; her belly fluttered.Manuel’s betrayal wasn’t her problem.Enrique loved her, respected her, needed her—that made all the difference in the world for a healthy marriage.She downed the last of her cocktail and stood as he reached her.His heat and mouthwatering citrus scent invaded her senses.

“Excuse me.”Rascón grabbed his tumbler and headed down the bar.

Enrique rested his hands on her upper arms.“Everything all right, princess?”

“Now that you’re here.Are you done with your business?”

“For the time being.”

She curled her fingers around the lapels of his jacket and kissed him with a slow, deliberate promise of what was to come.His sexy, throaty groan filled her mouth as he kneaded her waist.Her silk dress bunched under his strong hands, an unwanted barrier to the roughened palms she craved.

“Follow me.”Before she lost her nerve, she took his warm hand and led him toward the backrooms for a wild, wicked night neither of them would forget.

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