Читать книгу Escape to Paradise - Pamela Yaye - Страница 10

Chapter 3

Santiago cursed under his breath.

The men sitting behind him were talking so loud he couldn’t hear what Claudia was saying. He thought of telling Beavis and Butthead to shut up, but he didn’t want her to think he was rude. Keeping his frustration in check was harder than riding a mechanical bull on quicksand, and when the pair erupted in boisterous laughter, drowning out Claudia’s melodious voice, he almost snatched them both up by the collar. How was he supposed to get to know the Southern beauty with these two clowns guffawing every five seconds?

Glad she was finally starting to relax, he carefully studied her appearance. The short, bouncy hair, that shapely body clad in pink-trimmed workout gear. Claudia was the kind of woman his friend Chaz Romero would call a dime piece. Claudia wasn’t a nine or a ten, she was a twenty. He’d dated some in his life, and had even been in love a time or two, but he’d never been this drawn to a female, never been so enamored with anyone. “Does everything taste okay?” Santiago saw the deep frown on her face, and worried he’d bought the wrong thing. “I can run and grab you something else if you’d like.”

“This sandwich is delicious, but I can’t believe it cost fifteen dollars,” she said, staring at the red price sticker on the wrapper. “That’s really expensive for a chicken-turkey club.”

She spoke so softly, so quietly, it was impossible to hear her over the noise. Santiago leaned forward in his chair. Her accent was subtle, distinctly Southern, and rich with femininity.

“If my sister hadn’t given me her Priority Pass I wouldn’t have even known this lounge existed. I can’t believe the daily rate is a hundred dollars. That’s highway robbery!”

“You’re right, but it’s great having somewhere quiet to go to when the airport’s packed and you have an extended layover,” he said, inclining his head toward her. “And they make the best steak subs here. I’ve already had three!”

His iPhone rang. Offering an apologetic smile, he slipped a hand into his shirt pocket and hit the End button. He’d bet it was the same woman who’d called an hour ago. The stick-thin cosmetics heiress his mother was trying to set him up with. No way, no thanks. If he ever decided to settle down he’d do the choosing. Not his matchmaking mom.

“Aren’t you going to answer your phone?”

“They’ll call back.”

“Won’t your wife worry if you don’t pick up?”

Santiago displayed his left hand. “I’ve happily single.”

“Sure you are.” Her laugh carried a hard, bitter edge. “That’s what they all say.”

“Are you meeting up with someone in Mexico?” He found her eyes, saw how the edges darkened, and tried to reach her with his smile. “Or are you traveling solo?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

He shrugged. “I’m just curious.”

“Curious is a polite word for ‘nosy.’”

Santiago chuckled. So much for her being shy. She’s as feisty as a caged lioness! “My mother is a very social person, and I guess I inherited that trait from her.” At the thought of his mother a grin pinched his lips. She was dying for him to get married, anxious to begin spoiling her first grandchild, but he wasn’t in the market for a bride and that wasn’t going to change any time soon. “Excuse me for being so forward. I mean no harm.”

“I don’t know anyone there. I’m on my own.”

He waited, expected her to say more, but she didn’t. “You’re going to love Cancun,” he began, fishing for information. “There’s tons to see and do, and they have some great nightclubs.”

“I’m not going to Cancun. I’m—” She started and stopped twice, then released a long, deep sigh. It was if breathing was too much for her, a boring, arduous task that she’d rather not do. Finally, after what seemed like an hour, she said, “I’m going to Cabo San Lucas.”

His ears perked up. “What a coincidence. So am I.”

Claudia said nothing, just put a hand to her hair and ran her fingers through her bangs.

“If we ever leave this airport and make it down there I’d love to see you again. Maybe we could go out for coffee.” Santiago smiled. “Or would you prefer hot chocolate?”

“I won’t have time.”

Reaching into his attaché case, he retrieved one of his business cards and offered it to her. “If you change your mind or need someone to show you around, give me a call.”

Claudia stared at the card as if it was covered in germs. “My week is pretty full.”

“I understand.”

When she turned away, he eased forward in his chair and dropped it into her purse.

“Do you know much about the resorts in the Tourist Corridor?” she asked, her voice low and filled with hesitation. “I don’t care about the bars or restaurants in the area. I just want to be somewhere safe. And quiet.”

A grin claimed his lips. She was staying in the heart of the city? What a stroke of good fortune! He thought of asking the name of her hotel, but didn’t want to be accused of being nosy again. “You’ll be perfectly safe in and around the peninsula. Because of the surge in celebrity tourists over the last few years, the police have upped their presence in the area.”

“Can’t afford to let anything happen to the rich and famous, huh?”

Santiago frowned. There was that edge in her voice again. I wonder what that’s all about? “Tourism is big business in Mexico, and in these hard economic times, every dollar spent in the country counts.” He studied her for a moment, trying to make all the pieces of the puzzle fit. “I’m surprised you’re not interested in checking out some of the clubs.”

A scowl pinched her lips. “Why? Do I look like the kind of woman who enjoys dancing on tables and stumbling around drunk?”

“No, but you look like a dancer, and all of the ones I know love a good party.”

“I haven’t danced in years. And,” she stressed, “pirouettes aren’t exactly a crowd-pleaser.” Claudia crossed her legs, shifted around in her seat as if she was sitting on a cold, hard cinder block rather than on a plush chair. “Did you study dance, too?”

Santiago cracked up, but when he thought about all those sweltering afternoons he’d spent in that airless dance studio, his laughter fizzled. He’d never see Marisol dance again, never hear the excitement in her voice when she spoke about her passion for the arts. She was gone, forever, and he was to blame. Memories of that fateful night weighed on his chest like a slab of steel, making every breath a fight, a struggle.

“Karate was more my speed, but my younger sister studied ballet for years.” He tasted sadness in his mouth, and swallowed hard to wash it away. “Did you ever consider making a career out of it or auditioning for Julliard?”

Her eyebrows rose. “You’re very knowledgeable about ballet.”

“And you’re skilled at evading questions.”

A smile caressed her lips, but it was gone so fast Santiago was sure he’d imagined it. He watched her pick up her cup of hot chocolate. Why was she shaking? Was she cold, scared or both? “It might help to talk about it,” he said quietly.

Hot chocolate sloshed onto the table when Claudia slapped down her cup and surged to her feet. She was breathing hard, fast, as if she’d just finished sprinting up a flight of stairs.

“Where are you going?”

Claudia tossed her things into her travel bag and yanked violently on the zipper.

“They haven’t made any boarding announcements yet.” Angry at himself for scaring her off, he rose from his seat and offered a sincere, heartfelt apology. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Claudia. Please stay and finish your food.”

“I’m done, now if you’ll excuse me—”

Santiago did the unthinkable. He rested a hand on her arm and gave a light squeeze. Her flesh was warm, supple, and her fragrance wrapped itself around him like a wisteria vine.

Time crawled to a stop.

Their gazes locked, and for a half second Santiago forgot where he was. Her eyes drew him in, seduced him as surely as Eve and that shiny red apple. He could almost see the energy pulsing between them, could almost smell the perfume of her desire. It was so crippling he felt like he’d been struck by lightning. Lust barreled through him, rooted his hands to her arms and his feet to the ground. Unable to move, he waited for the temporary paralysis to lift, waited impatiently for his thoughts to clear.

Thunder clapped, shaking Santiago out of his dreamlike state.

“I—I have to go.”

With a heaviness in his heart, he stepped aside to let her pass, but not before saying, “God is bigger than your problems.”

She hesitated a fraction, as if considering his words.

“He’ll give you the strength you need to overcome—”

A laugh fell out of her lips. “Yeah, sure, whatever you say.” Wearing a scowl that could scare the devil, she grabbed her bag and fled the lounge as if it was engulfed in ten-foot flames.

His eyes followed her every move. Through the restaurant, past the spa and back out into Terminal One. Claudia was as mysterious as the pathway of the wind, and the polar opposite of the women his mother forced on him, but he found her candor refreshing. And her beauty only enhanced her appeal. Santiago loved his mom, but he was sick of going out on dates with fake, pretentious women who cared only about caviar, champagne and shopping sprees in Milan. He was taken by this soft-spoken Southern beauty. She was real, honest, interested in the well-being of her fellow man. He had to see her again.

Santiago returned to his seat. There were a lot of perks to being a Medina, and he planned to use every connection he had to track her down. And hopefully the next time he saw Claudia she wouldn’t run from their undeniable connection.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to put away your cell phone.”

Claudia kept her eyes glued to the screen. She read her sister’s text message again, unsure what to make of it.

The suite isn’t ready yet but hang tight.

What was that supposed to mean? If there was an issue with the room, she wanted to hear about it. Now. Before the plane took off. Lynchburg was a far cry from staying at a luxury resort in Cabo San Lucas, but it was better than nothing.

“Ma’am, did you hear me?”

Claudia held up a finger. “I’ll just be a minute. I need to call my sister.”

“I’m not going to ask you again.”

Stunned by the flight attendant’s rudeness, she cranked her head toward her, wondering how a woman with dimples could be so evil. “It’s an emergency.”

Glaring at her as if she’d been caught coloring on the cabin walls with permanent marker, the bony redhead stuck a hand to her size zero waist and tapped her high heel impatiently on the floor. “This is nonnegotiable. Everyone has to adhere to the safety policies in place, including you.”

What is this? “Dump on Claudia” Day? She wanted to cry—to release all the pent-up emotion she’d been holding inside—but after spending six miserable hours at the Dulles International Airport she didn’t have the strength crying required.

Summoning a smile, she eased forward in her seat and struck down all thoughts of yanking the attendant’s frizzy hair. “I’ve just discovered that—”

“If you don’t put your cell phone away right this minute I’m going to call airport security and have you escorted off this flight.” She talked with her hands, flapping them around like an inebriated traffic cop. “Now, what’s it going to be?”

Realizing she was fighting a losing battle, Claudia closed her phone and stuffed it into her pocket. “I don’t understand what the problem is. Passengers are still boarding the plane and the pilot announced that takeoff wouldn’t be for several more minutes.”

“New rules. Take it up with the airline.”

Claudia wanted to smack the smirk off the stewardess’s face, but instead she grabbed the trashy tabloid magazine from the pocket in front of her. Things could be worse, she decided, scanning the salacious headlines. At least I’m not stuck in Richmond.

A leggy flight attendant sidled up to Ms. Bossy Pants.

“I got one more in first class,” she whispered, fanning her face with her hands. “And he’s so friggin’ sexy I could lick him all over!”

Seated behind the curtain that separated the two cabins, Claudia had a clear view into first class and spotted the new arrival the moment he stepped onto the plane. It was…Santiago. The guy who’d bought her lunch. Claudia prayed she’d go unnoticed in her cheap economy-class seat. No such luck. His gaze zeroed in on her, and a searing, blistering heat spread from her ears to her toes. He sure is easy on the eyes, she thought, feeling a rush of desire. He had the classic facial features of a model, a cluster of jet-black curls, and a chest her hands were desperate to kiss and caress. Great, now I sound like that horny flight attendant.

Santiago flashed a thousand-watt smile, one intended to make her drool. And she did. All over her scoop-neck shirt. He waved as if they were dear old friends, and like a fool, she waved, too. Claudia pushed a hand through her hair and swept her bangs up off her face. She was attracted to him, but that didn’t mean she was interested in making a love connection. Chemistry was overrated. So was confidence, charisma and all of the other qualities he possessed. Forget sexual attraction, fiery French kisses and earth-shattering sex. That stuff was for Hollywood. In the real world, love didn’t last and desire waned faster than quick-drying paint.

Sliding the magazine down past her nose, she combed her eyes over his lean frame. Claudia felt an instant connection to him, something she’d never experienced, and the more she stared at him, the higher her temperature rose. He had a handsome face, a perfect body and a voice dripping with sensuality. Too bad she wasn’t impressed. She’d met dozens of men like him before and had been disappointed by each and every one. From now on she was only dating regular guys, blue-collar workers who understood the value of a dollar earned and spent responsibly. And she was staying the hell away from that Holy Bible thumper sitting in first class. What was it he’d said? Some mumbo jumbo about God being there in times of need. I bet he believes in the tooth fairy, too! she thought, smirking. Her life had been full of setbacks, one after another, and she’d experienced heartbreak at every turn. No, God definitely didn’t care about her. If he did, he wouldn’t allow bad things to keep happening to her.

Her gaze slid from Santiago to Ms. Bossy Pants, and when the redhead disappeared into the gallery, Claudia sprung into action. Tossing the magazine aside, she opened her cell phone, punched in her sister’s number, and waited impatiently for the call to connect. “Pick up, pick up,” she chanted, crouching down in her seat. “Come on, dammit. Pick up.”

“Hello?”

Claudia exhaled. “Max, it’s me. What’s wrong with the suite?”

“Hey, girl. What’s up? Are you still stuck in Washington?”

“I don’t have time to chitchat. Tell me what’s going on.”

“One of Royce’s old college buddies is staying in the suite.”

Her spirits plummeted, fell so fast she felt dizzy. “Why didn’t you check with Royce before you offered it to me?”

“It’s not my fault,” Maxine argued. “He never said a word to me about Dimitri being there until I mentioned that you were headed to Cabo.”

“When’s this guy leaving?”

“In a couple days. He’ll probably be gone before you get there, but I wanted to give you a heads-up just in case.” Her voice brightened. “Everything’ll be fine. Don’t sweat it.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who could end up out on the street.”

“And neither will you. The suite has two master bedrooms, an enormous living room and more than enough space for the both of you.”

Shaking her head, Claudia decided her sister was even crazier than she thought. “Forget it, Max. I’m not going to stay in the suite with a perfect stranger.”

“He doesn’t have to be…” Max giggled. “Dimitri’s tall, supercute, and built like a Ram truck. What more could you want in a sex buddy?”

“I’m not interested.”

“Milk’s not the only thing that does a body good. Hot sex does wonders, too!”

“Now I know how you managed to get knocked up on your second date.”

“Don’t hate, congratulate!” Her voice turned serious. “There have been some new developments in William’s case that I thought you should know about. He was deemed a flight risk by the judge this afternoon in court, and was denied bail.”

“Good. I hope he never gets out.”

“The feds confiscated his computers, but they haven’t uncovered anything incriminating yet.”

Hearing a noise at the rear of the plane, Claudia twisted around in her seat. Fear surged through her, causing her heartbeat to thunder in her ears. The flight attendant from hell was stomping toward her, gaining on her with each step. “I have to go! She’s coming!”

“Who—”

Click.

Claudia tossed her cell phone into her purse, snatched the blanket off the vacant seat beside her, and dragged it up to her chin. Scared the flight attendant would make good on her earlier threat, she closed her eyes and started to snore.

The lights dimmed and a hush fell over the cabin.

“Excuse me, miss. Can you hold this open for me?”

Opening one eye, Claudia watched as Santiago slid in front of Ms. Bossy Pants. His muscles flexed, drew taut against the light fabric of his shirt as he hoisted his travel bag into the overhead bin. He glanced over his shoulder, and for a long, heart-pounding moment Claudia couldn’t breathe. Every time he looked at her she experienced respiratory failure. What was up with that? To keep from slobbering all over herself like one of her sister’s chocolate Labs, she turned her face toward the tiny cabin window.

Thick, somber clouds blackened the sky, and as the plane inched down the runway, torrential rains beat violently against the windows. The last time I was in a storm this bad was that night I was rushed to the hospital. Being strapped down on that cold, hard gurney had made her feel helpless, powerless. Just like now.

Claudia crossed her legs at her ankles. For now, the mess in Richmond was behind her. She was safe, free to do whatever she wanted without public scrutiny. The realization should have calmed her, should have bolstered her spirits, but as her eyes grew heavy with sleep another terrifying thought gripped her. What if those reporters camped out on my lawn discover the truth about my past?