Warrior Without Rules Page 7

  Had those workers, those loyal employees been angry enough to scare and attack her?

  She didn’t pursue the question. She put it away, packing it down tight with all the other unpleasantries she’d suffered just as her father had taught her. Don’t react. Just go on. Rise above those things that frighten you.

  She touched the ring she wore on her pinky finger. The three twists of precious metal represented the past, the present and the future, her mother had told her. All entwined, all connected, not independent of the other. What would her mother have wanted her to do?

  It was late and she was too tired to think clearly. She glanced beside her, quickly realizing her mistake when she couldn’t look away from the chiseled strength of Zach’s profile. After he’d returned her to her room the previous night, she’d taken one of her pills to find a saving rest but she suspected he’d spent the entire night awake and on alert. Watching over her.

  Her protector. Her rescuer. If only he could save her from her greatest fear, not of putting herself out in the public eye where she’d once again be a target for anyone who thought to take advantage of her celebrity and fortune, but that when the popularity waned and she had all the money she could ever desire, that she’d spend the rest of her life alone without ever knowing the touch of love.

  With a sigh, she reached up to switch off the overhead light, plunging their small area into darkness. After shifting uncomfortably for several minutes, she relented and gave in to her innermost need to reach out for a companionable warmth.

  Zach Russell’s shoulders were broad enough to carry the world, but on the last leg of their flight they had to support only one weary head.

  The airport at Zihuatanejo was a square of blacktop surrounded by palm trees. No gate was pushed up to the door to ease their walk into the terminal in air conditioned comfort. The doors opened and weary passengers were met with the full brunt of humidity and a set of steps leading down to the tarmac. No smoothly efficient turntable carried luggage around for inspection. Bags were dragged out and left for lethargic travelers to find and muscle into the terminal. Then the long line to clear customs surrounded by cranky children, short tempered parents and the inevitable complainers while overhead ceiling fans stirred air so thick it was almost impossible to breathe.

  Welcome to Mexico.

  The parking lot was crowded with tour buses hosted by smiling natives in loud tropical shirts. Veta, who now had her land legs, herded their exhausted group toward a large hotel van with the name Royale Pacifico emblazoned on the side. As Zach started toward it, struggling under the bulk of Toni’s bags, a familiar voice intruded.

  “Let me get those for you, Mr. Russell.”

  Tomas, the Castillos driver, was quick to relieve him of the majority of the luggage, tossing it efficiently into the back of a compact rental car. When he held open the rear door, Toni crawled in without a word and Zach followed. They were out of the chaotic lot and on the road in mere minutes.

  “You’re a lifesaver, Tomas,” Toni murmured as she burrowed into the seat with eyes closed.

  “Your father pays me well to be, Miss Castillo. I flew down yesterday to make all the transportation arrangements.”

  “Know your way around, do you, Tomas?”

  The young man’s gaze met Zach’s in the rearview. “I grew up in Zihua. My family still lives there. If there’s anything you need, come see me. I can get you the best price for Cuban cigars, for silver, for…entertainment. You name it, Tomas can find it for you.”

  Zach smiled at the driver’s enthusiasm. “You’re a handy fellow to know.”

  “Sí, Mr. Russell.”

  “We’ll talk.”

  Tomas held Zach’s penetrating stare for a long silent moment then nodded. He passed a simple business card over the seat. “My pager number is on there.”

  Pocketing the card, Zach leaned back into the stiff seat. Quite the little entrepreneur. Perhaps one who could help him obtain certain items customs refused to let slide through. Toni appeared to be dozing so he turned his attention to what he could see of the countryside. Beyond the well-maintained highway bordered by rock walls and high fences, there was little to see but darkness until Tomas slowed. Ahead were guard shacks on either side of the road and outside them stood men armed with automatic weapons. Tomas showed his ID and they motioned him on with the tip of an assault rifle. They crested a hill and beyond was a valley of lights leading to the ocean.

  “Ixtapa,” Tomas announced.

  “It seems well protected.”

  “A lot of tourist money is down there. We don’t want any unpleasantness to scare them away.”

  “Is that the reason for the fences?”

  “There’s a jungle on the other side and a world our fancy visitors don’t want to see.”

  “I’ve seen it.”

  Tomas glanced in the mirror. “I believe you. It’s my job to see that Miss Castillo and her group stay on this side of the fence.”

  “That’s my job, too.”

  Tomas nodded. “Not always an easy job.”

  “No, not always.”

  “If I can help, page me.”

  Zach patted his pocket.

  Ixtapa was a resort haven, its boulevard lined with massive hotels on the ocean side and local tourist traps on the other. The Royale Pacifico sat back from the street behind white brick walls, its eleven-story tower gleaming against the near midnight sky. Tomas maneuvered them up the cobbled circle drive to the open air entrance to the lobby. When the car stopped, Toni stirred and came to life. She leaned across Zach’s lap to scan the scattering of uniformed staff awaiting the new arrivals. As Tomas opened the door, she gave a squeal of delight and scrambled with a distressing agility over Zach’s knees to exit before him. And raced right into the waiting arms of another man.

  Observing Zach’s tight expression, Tomas offered, “I’ll see to the luggage, Mr. Russell.”

  “Right.”

  Zach approached the exuberantly hugging couple. When she noticed his stoic presence, Toni regarded him with a grin, still very much in the Ricky Martin lookalike’s embrace.

  “Russell, this is my oldest, dearest friend, Mateo Chavez, Veta’s baby brother.”

  “Not a baby, Antonia, if you hadn’t noticed,” the handsome young man scolded. If Toni didn’t, Zach certainly did as Chavez managed to detach one arm long enough to offer his hand. “Mr. Russell, the Royale welcomes you.”

  “Mateo owns the Royale,” Toni explained proudly. “That’s the reason we picked Ixtapa for our meetings rather than Mexico City.”

  “Ahh, you only came because of a friends and family discount.” The wounded tone was belied by an ear-to-ear flash of charm.

  Antonia slapped his tuxedoed chest. “You know that’s not true. Tomorrow you can show me everything but right now I need a room and at least twelve hours of sleep.”

  “Right away.” He produced a key. “You are in the junior suite on eleven. I would have put you in our master suite, but Señor Premiero insisted it be held for his arrival.”

  “He’s not here yet?”

  “He was delayed by some business in Puerto Vallarta. Don’t worry. I will keep you entertained until he arrives. The sun, sand and Royale are at your disposal.”

  “Oh, Mateo, you are a love.” She stretched up to press a kiss to his smooth cheek and for a moment the grin faltered.

  Something unpleasantly akin to jealousy gripped Zach’s gut as he recognized the look Mateo Chavez gave her. There was nothing brotherly about it. Then his features brightened.

  “There’s my sister. I’ll let Pablo take you to your room while I see the rest of your friends settled. And Mr. Russell will be staying where?”

  “With me.”

  If Mateo drew any conclusions from her brief reply, he didn’t display them. He held up the key and a sleek staff member took it from his hand. “Pablo, see our guests to their room.”

  As Mateo Chavez stood in the rapidly filling lobby watching the glass
elevator carry Toni and her companion up through the open atrium, he felt his sister’s hand upon his arm.

  “Who is that man and what is he to Antonia?”

  “He’s no problem to our plans, hermano,” Veta assured him as she followed his petulant glare. “You concentrate on wooing Toni and I’ll see to Mr. Russell.”

  Chapter 6

  Toni wasn’t sure what woke her. She thought it was thunder, but when she slit her eyes open to look out the sliding doors, a cloudless blue sky greeted her.

  She stretched languidly in the king-size bed and glanced at the digital clock on the night stand. Nine o’clock, she realized in some surprise. She hadn’t slept in past 5:30 since high school and her sudden slothfulness was out of character.

  Drawn by that blue sky after months of dismal Chicago winter, she rolled out from under the covers and went to pull back the patio slider. The rumbling sound intensified and she realized what it was. It was the surf rolling in on the endless miles of golden beach below. Warm air settled against her skin like a lover’s caress as she took in the surroundings. The large hotel pool, which was separated from the ocean by a strip of sand and parade of thatched palapa umbrellas, was already ringed by sunseekers in white lounges and the chaises not yet taken were claimed by towels and summer read novels. A few colorful blow up rafts dotted the inviting water and a group of children sluiced down the twists of two waterslides.

  Heaven.

  “The shower’s all yours.”

  Russell’s voice startled her from her idyllic musings. She’d forgotten he was there. The pull out couch was already made up and his travel belongings stored away. Only her suitcases sat piled outside the spacious closet.

  The sight of Zach Russell emerging from the bathroom wearing a pair of snug jeans sapped the breath from Toni’s lungs. What usually was hidden beneath tailored suits was a body cut with ruthless perfection. Shoulders and arms swelled powerfully. Hard pectorals rode six-pack abs defined beyond a bodybuilder’s wildest dream. She worked out religiously but had never seen his sculpted equal in any gym.

  Wow.

  Oblivious to her detailing stare, he crossed to the desk chair to retrieve a white polo shirt. The muscles in his back performed marvelous acrobatics as he slipped it over his head. Before he could turn and catch her tongue hanging out, Toni raced into the bathroom.

  The room smelled deliriously of shaving soap and wet man. His kit had been tucked away and damp towels neatly folded. A pair of grey gym shorts hung on the back of the door. The ambiance was intimately, excitingly male. And to Toni, totally foreign.

  She cranked on the water. To cold.

  When she emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a Royale robe, Toni was brutally awake and testily aware of the difficulties of sharing living space with her bodyguard. It wasn’t crowded space. The suite was large, formed in a slight V with her massive bed and dresser in one portion. A central table and chairs, wet bar, desk and television made a visual divider leading to the social area with sleeper sofa, comfortable barrel shaped chairs, coffee table and second TV. Either section had it own awesome view and patio with glass-topped table and two plastic chairs. Zach stood out on the patio on his side, a cup of coffee in hand. He didn’t turn, affording her some privacy as she tossed her baggage on the bed and nervously rooted through for clothes to wear. Rule Two took on a new meaning. Zach Russell with her morning, noon, night…all night. To think she’d joked about having him scrub her back.

  She paused in what might have passed for virginal panic.

  But then, why was she worried? Being the consummate professional, Russell would never breach her private space. For right now, considering all she had on her mind, that provided a measure of comfort. Business and personal emotions didn’t mix. Her mother had taught her that and her father proved it by example. Their marriage had been one of appearance and cool civility, placing the bottom line before private time, of which there never seemed to be any. She learned by watching them negotiate their marriage the way most did a corporate merger. If passion played a role in it, that part had run its course long before she was born. If they’d sought to kindle fires outside of wedlock, they’d done so discreetly and without her ever knowing about it. Appearance was everything. A personal life was no different from the product they sold—it had to be of superior quality and without any defects. Perhaps Victor and Mercedes Castillo had been able to maintain that facade without difficulty. Toni found it a daily struggle. And part of the reason was sharing her room.

  She slipped into baggy gauze harem pants and a form-hugging cropped tank top, then once a light application of makeup was in place, Toni felt ready to confront her roommate.

  She heard his voice when she reentered the room and continued toward him because she thought he was speaking to her. By the time she saw the cell phone at his ear, she was too close not to overhear his conversation.

  “I’m sorry I ruined your plans for the holidays. I meant to share them with you.”

  Swallowing her surprise was like choking down her own foot.

  “Probably a couple weeks,” he continued, not yet aware of her presence. “I’ll stop by then. I want to. I don’t like you spending so much time alone. Besides, I need to give you your gift.” He laughed and the sound seemed achingly personal. “No, not prettier, just different. And just a job, so you needn’t draw any conclusions.” His voice lowered, becoming a rumble of affection that tore through Toni’s heart. “Miss you. I love you, too. I will. Jack told you? No, no more stitches. I promise.” He glanced over his shoulder then to catch Toni frozen by guilt. He closed the phone. “I wasn’t sure I could catch a relay down here.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” she stammered.

  Zach shrugged as if it was of no consequence that she’d witnessed the tender exchange. “I’m ready for breakfast. How about you?”

  She nodded stiffly, wondering how she was going to coax an appetite past the knot in her belly.

  Rule Three apparently didn’t apply beyond the two of them.

  While Toni sat at the bold Callas tiled table in the airy café nibbling on her plate of fresh fruit and sipping papaya juice and strong dark coffee, she watched in some bemusement as Zach had their good-natured server explain in detail every dish on the buffet bar down to ingredients and where they were grown. Then he had the rotund griddle cook giggling like a school girl as he chatted with her in perfect Spanish and flirted while she created his made-to-order omelet which he topped with fresh pico de gallo and fried black beans. Toni eyed his heaping plate when he finally joined her.

  “There’s not a single thing on there that’s healthy, you know.”

  He paid her jaundiced comment no mind but instead forked off a morsel from the corner of his dish. “Try this.”

  “No, thank you.”

  “The texture of this flan is amazing. And this sauce. It’s kiwi. Taste.”

  “No, I really don’t—”

  But he had the fork heading for her face and it was open or have it up her nose.

  “What do you think? Sinful, isn’t it?”

  Though she agreed, she told him, “I think you have a curious fixation with food. Are you seeing someone for that?”

  He grinned and her heart gave an anxious jump within her chest. It settled down only when his attention returned to his mammoth breakfast.

  “I studied to be a sous chef once upon a time in my wastrel youth. I found the chemistry of mixing flavors fascinating.”

  “But you settled for mixing plastique, instead.”

  He went still for a moment then said nonchalantly, “Life has a way of changing your priorities.”

  She would have pursued the intriguing tidbit of information if Mateo hadn’t picked that time to join them.

  “¡Hola!” The handsome resort owner bent to press a kiss to Toni’s cheek. “Enjoying your stay so far?”

  “Looking forward to the pool and some sun,” Toni confessed. “I haven’t had a lazy day for far too lo
ng. What do you recommend?”

  “Water volleyball, margaritas at the swim-up bar, a massage and sauna before siesta then a nice nap to get ready for the Mexican Fiesta tonight.”

  “I think I’ve just hired you to become my personal secretary.”

  “I’ll leave that to Veta. She’s much more capable.” Mateo pulled up a chair, only then glancing at an expressionless Russell. His focus went right back to Toni. “My sister tells me you have had some trouble. We can’t have worry putting lines on such a pretty face.”

  “A few lines add character,” Zach interrupted smoothly. “But thanks for your concern.” At Mateo’s slight frown, he continued with a brisk authority. “I’ll want to meet with your head of hotel security this morning. Also, I noticed some heavily armed fellows in flak jackets coming off the beach this morning.”

  “Our local police. They patrol the area to keep our guests safe.”

  “Is there a problem?” Toni’s voice edged with alarm.

  “I forget that though this is your father’s home, you’re not as familiar with Mexico. This is passionate country, a poor country, not so civilized as your United States. Rebellion is always boiling just under the surface. Our criminals are very bold. Every effort is made to insure our guests’ safety, but you mustn’t leave the resort area or venture off into the hills alone. Some of these rogues make a very good living by purse snatching and kidnapping. Not a fact we’re proud of, but one we can’t hide.”

  “She’ll be protected.”

  Zach’s flat summation drew a nod from Mateo. “That is good to know. My people will cooperate fully. Just tell them what you need. Antonia’s safety is my primary concern.” Then the charm was back as he snatched up her hand. “And so is your entertainment. Finish your breakfast and put on your swimsuit. I will take the day off so we can play as we did as children.”

  Zach was about to interrupt when he saw the expression on Toni’s face. The angles softened with happiness and anticipation. Did he have the right to take that from her, to force her into the role of anxious victim once again?