Warrior Without Rules Read online

  “Come,” Mateo urged with an engaging grin. “Let’s sign you up for a massage. We offer eighteen different methods and all are guaranteed to melt you into butter.”

  Toni started to rise, then checked her enthusiasm with a look to Zach. The guarded disappointment settling over her features was enough to have him think, what the hell.

  “I won’t be far if you need me.”

  Toni’s smile warmed like a sunrise.

  “She won’t,” Mateo assured him with a bit of smug male posturing as he banded her tiny waist with the claim of one arm. As he led her away, Zach was already regretting the latitude he’d given.

  “She’ll be safe with him.”

  Zach stood as Veta joined him at the table. As vibrant as one of the tropical flowers in a boldly printed sarong and matching bikini top, sensuality wafted from her like a powerful fragrance. And she was well aware of the effect. She picked a piece of fruit from Toni’s plate and sucked at it leisurely. A gesture Zach was sure was designed to distract a man from his higher cerebral functions.

  “Convince me,” he challenged mildly. “Tell me about your brother and their history.”

  “My mother was Victor’s distant cousin. When she wanted to get us out of Mexico and into the States, she appealed to him to give my father a job. He worked down here as a policeman and she feared for his safety and our future. Victor brought us into his home and welcomed us like family. He made my father his head of security. My mother opened her own shop doing tailoring and alterations for all the Lake Shore debutantes. Mateo and I were raised like brother and sister with Antonia from the time we started school.”

  “And how did you get along?”

  “Mateo and Antonia were wild and impetuous children. I was older and kept them out of trouble. I still do and I take that responsibility very seriously. I have been friend, sister and mother to Antonia since our mothers died in the same car accident.”

  Empathy for the tender-aged Toni fisted about his heart. “How old were you?”

  “Toni and Mateo were fourteen and I was seventeen. It was very hard on them and on my father. He began drinking to escape the pain and loneliness. He was on a week-long drunk at the time Toni was kidnapped. He never got over it and retired right after she was returned to us. I took over his responsibilities then. It seemed only right.” Veta told the story with an off-handed candor as if she were far distanced from the upheaval in her own young life. It got Zach wondering if that were true.

  “So you lost your chance for freedom to babysit a spoiled heiress.”

  That got the sharp reaction he intended. Veta’s dark eyes narrowed fiercely and her tone thinned to a razor’s edge. “I lost nothing, Mr. Russell. I gained a position I enjoy and the satisfaction of helping a very capable and worthy woman whom I adore achieve a success she deserves. Toni’s had nothing handed to her. She’s earned everything she’s gotten. If you think otherwise, you don’t know her at all.”

  “I don’t have to know her to protect her.”

  “There’s where you’re wrong, Russell. If you’d taken the time to know her, she would never have been taken from us. Don’t make that same mistake again or I will make you very sorry.”

  She pushed away from the table without giving Zach a chance to rebut her accusation.

  In truth, there was nothing he could say to disclaim her brutal words. She’d pinned the guilt straight to his soul and there was no way to wriggle free of it.

  So he went about his business that morning, meeting with hotel security, briefing them on the situation and potential risks involving Toni’s presence in the resort. He found them to be somber professionals who could be trusted.

  As he sat that afternoon in the café, his presence carefully shadowed and obscured, he watched Toni frolic with her childhood friend as if she had no cares. While she played water volleyball at the whistle punctuated direction of the resort’s activities director, Javier, who shouted encouragement in both English and Spanish over the loud pumping beat of American club mixes, Zach was mentally cataloging who might have the most to gain if Toni faltered and failed as CEO of Aletta. The more he considered the wronged union members, the least likely they seemed to play out as chief villain. The earlier threats and the recent events implied an intimate knowledge of Toni’s past and that narrowed the scope of possibilities. But if that knowledge was for sale, virtually anyone could have orchestrated the escalating intimidation. Would those threats follow her here? He had to assume so. It was his job to presume so.

  While she basked in the sun sipping Mexican beer, he was placing relayed calls to Jack Chaney requesting an investigation into Mateo Chavez’s resort and the deaths of Mercedes Castillo and Mateo’s mother.

  And when Antonia emerged from the pool, flinging the wet sheet of her hair back, her strong body glistening as water beaded up on well-oiled skin, he tore his gaze from the spectacular sight to make a page.

  “Tomas, Russell. I need some hardware and special equipment. How good are your connections? Can you hook me up?”

  Veta was wrong about one thing. He did know Toni, perhaps better than anyone else. And there was no way he was going to fail her a second time around.

  Chapter 7

  It almost felt as if the last ten years had fallen away, leaving her soul delightfully carefree and spirit unscarred.

  Even knowing the illusion wouldn’t last, that the responsibilities and worries were still there waiting, Toni indulged in the escape the momentary break afforded. She could pretend Mateo was, again, her playful companion and that she had no concerns other than what to wear for the evening’s fiesta. Her competitive nature slipped into overdrive during an exhausting two rounds of volleyball. A wonderfully mind-sapping soak in the sun was followed by the cool shock of pool water upon lotion-basted skin. Relaxation that had been so absent in her life was an intoxicating tonic she wanted to drink in for the rest of her stay.

  She hadn’t seen Russell all day. Knowing he was there somewhere gave her the sense of security to unwind without his visual reminder of what possible threats might still be close at hand. She didn’t want to think about danger and the demons that relentlessly pursued her. She wanted to have fun, to cut loose, to be just another tourist at least until Premiero arrived to call her back to work. She deserved the R&R and Russell’s grim rules weren’t going to ruin it for her.

  He wasn’t in the room when she went up to change for the fiesta but his essence was everywhere. His clothing hung neatly beside hers. His aftershave lingered in the towels. She got looking at those skimpy athletic shorts and the desire to see him in them caused a brief short circuit to her motor skills. By the time she was dressed, she was agitated beyond reason without knowing why. Or not wanting to admit that she did.

  The peppy sound of traditional music greeted her when the elevators opened in the lobby. And so did Zach. Dressed in casual khakis and a white linen shirt, he looked cool, relaxed and annoyingly appealing when he cocked his elbow toward her. She slipped her hand through that warm bend and allowed him to lead her out to the festivities.

  The grassy area on the side of the hotel was ringed with twinkling lights and booths hawking local wares. The greeters slipped an earthen cup on a ribbon over their heads and filled it with a shot of tequila. With the bite of native liquor heating from the inside the way the damp hug of humidity did from the outside, they were guided in to a maze of tables where other resort guests were already clustered. They were placed at a large table with several other couples and a pair of college coeds on spring break. After sketchy introductions were made over the boisterous music, one of the men in a loud tropical print shirt, proudly proclaiming that he’d won the trip by being top salesman for his territory in Minnesota, bought them all a round of margaritas and told their server to keep them coming.

  “So you all are from Chicago,” one of the ladies leaned close to shout. She was probably in her fifties, dressed as if she was twenty and fried to a painful crimson. “You look like newlyweds
.”

  Zach covered Toni’s hand with his own. “That’s right. I’m a day trader and my lovely wife teaches third grade.”

  Toni arched a brow at him and jumped in to redirect the conversation. “That’s a beautiful necklace.”

  “I practically stole it down at the market in Zihua. Flash American dollars and you can talk these people into almost giving their silver away. I’d feel guilty if I wasn’t getting such a fabulous deal.”

  The loud salesman who must have been the woman’s husband took that moment to vent, “They deserve it. These people don’t have the same value of money and standard of living that we do. They’re stealing our American jobs and doing them for pesos on the dollar, putting hardworking U.S. families on welfare. Those fat cats at the head of our industries just wave a greenback and they scramble to snatch up our livelihoods. It’s a crime is what it is. Hey, Pancho, bring another rum punch for my wife, poor favor.”

  The server who’d been standing behind him during the diatribe smiled and nodded, but his eyes glittered resentfully. Obviously he knew more English than the obnoxious drunk gave him credit for. Toni pressed her lips together tightly to refrain from comment, though she longed to remind the man that he was a guest in this country and should mind his manners. A quieter inner voice was asking if his sentiments were the same ones eating away like toxins at the workers in her own factory. Perhaps poisoning them to the point of striking out at her in their frustration?

  The silver-draped woman laughed and shared with a pseudo-charitable attitude, “My Manny gave some ragged little Mexican boy a dollar to carry our bottled water from the store across the street. You would have thought we were feeding his family for a week.”

  “You probably were,” Zach murmured agreeably. When the perpetually smiling server returned, Zach spoke to him in a Spanish aside and slipped him some coins. Toni heard the phrase Ugly American and the tone of apology, and felt vindicated for her country’s rudeness.

  Thankful to escape the offensive salesman, Toni followed the crowd to the buffet tables with Zach close behind her. While she juggled two plates, he did the loading to keep his hands free. She could see his interest in the platters of native dishes but he kept his inquiries on an olfactory level because of the crush behind them. As they were headed glumly back to their table, Bryce Tavish, her photographer, intercepted them.

  “We can fit two more at our table. Join us. I need to go over tomorrow’s shoot with you before I’m too drunk to speak intelligibly.”

  That’s all the convincing it took to elbow in to the group that included Tavish, his pretty assistant Teddy, and two of the stylists who’d found themselves hunky beach boy dates. As he promised, Bryce jumped right into business first, outlining his plans for the advertising theme that would tie Aletta to its new location south of the border. They would feature Toni pursuing various action-oriented activities from a mild bout of beach volleyball to parasailing and wave runners. She watched Zach’s features harden into stone as he considered the security nightmare ahead.

  “And for the grand finale,” Bryce gushed with a flamboyant enthusiasm, “picture you rappelling up a mountainside then ziplining to the jungle floor. Baby, our marketing department will go absolutely gaga.”

  Zach made a gagging sound beside her. “Isn’t that a little dangerous just to sell shoes?”

  “Darling, Aletta isn’t about shoes,” Bryce explained patiently. “It’s about attitude and mental toughness. And our Toni has it all. That’s what the consumer wants. They want to be her. They want to be taking those risks, living that life on the edge.”

  “So she goes out on that edge to give them a vicarious thrill.”

  “You got it. That’s what it’s all about. That sweet faced Mateo is setting everything up for us. Don’t frown like that. Wrinkles age the skin prematurely.”

  What was aging Zach was the situation being pulled farther and farther out of his control. He liked things in close and buttoned down tight where the exposure was limited and the advantage was theirs. Putting Toni out into wide open spaces or into activities that were inherently risky made his job more difficult. The more players on the scene, the higher chance of something going wrong. If he had his way, Toni would be locked in the hotel suite until the individual or group who was threatening her was locked away for good.

  But one glance at her, at the mulish set of her chin and the defiant flash of her eyes, and he knew that plan was doomed to failure.

  “I’ll have to chat with sweet-faced Mateo,” he grumbled.

  Toni pressed his arm. The contact was brief and impulsive. It caught him off guard as did the sudden shock of heat that shot straight to his belly like an unexpected bite into a jalapeño. He was saved from further distress by the start of the night’s entertainment.

  The fiesta presented Mexican history in a colorful and dramatic pageant of song and ceremony, from the fierce heart-pounding drumbeats leading caped and feathered warriors through the ritual of human sacrifice to sombrero-topped mariachis. And as the heavy heat of the evening settled along with the effects of the margaritas and rum punches, Toni swayed to the peppery rhythms, a smile on her face and her eyes half closed. Zach’s nose was full of her lime-and-coconut-tinged perfume. The way the candlelight danced upon the contours of her bronzed skin beckoned to his senses like the women in white upon the stage who twirled and dipped as they depicted an age-old fertility rite. Caught up in their passionate portrayal, Toni was oblivious to her surroundings. She looked like a woman ripe for seduction.

  She’d chosen to wear a simple tank style sun dress that began at the shoulders in light azure and deepened like the night sky into rich midnight blues. Palm tree silhouettes edged the full hem and caught glints of light in a scattering of jet beads. With her hair twisted up in a flower-studded rope, her lovely features were glamorously framed and the long line of her neck was bare. Except for the tiny scratches around the base of her throat. That reminder shocked Zach’s musings back to the harsh reality. She wasn’t a pretty tourist. She was a target.

  Toni gave a start when he took up her hand. The alarm in her gaze eased quickly into a sultry blend of surprise and some more complex emotion he couldn’t afford to identify. In the flickering torchlight from the stage, it pooled like rich, romantic fantasies.

  She quirked a puzzled smile as he clasped a silver bracelet studded with lapis and malachite on her wrist. “What’s this? A gift? I didn’t get you anything?”

  But oh, such dangerous promises glittered in her liquid stare.

  “Consider us engaged.”

  As her perplexity deepened and her pulse began to quicken within the warm curl of his fingers, he gently turned her hand and directed her attention to the bracelet band.

  “There’s a transmitter implanted. A kind of panic button with built-in GPS. If we’re separated and you need me, you activate it here, at this catch. I’ll know you’re in trouble. It’s for those discretionary or unexpected moments.”

  She considered the gift with a new understanding. Her tone was dry. “How romantic. Engaged.”

  He chose to smile rather than to react to her sarcasm. “Without the mess.”

  “How convenient.”

  Just then a swooningly handsome Mateo stepped up to the table. He wore traditional Mexican attire heavily trimmed with braid as well as his huge white smile. He bussed a quick kiss on Toni’s cheek before addressing the table.

  “I hope you all are enjoying the evening.” While he listened to the praise of his guests, his hands lingered familiarly on Toni’s shoulders. That she didn’t seem to mind the possessive gesture triggered an odd disagreeability in Zach Russell. That feeling intensified when their gregarious host leaned down closer until he was cheek to cheek with the woman at his side. Toni’s expression said she not only didn’t object but that she returned the affections of the courtly Latino.

  “Antonia, I’ve managed to clear my morning to take you shopping at the market in Zihua. It will be just like the adven
tures we used to have when we were younger.” He glanced up to confide in Zach, “We would sneak off to hop a train into the city then explore all the ethnic neighborhoods around Chicago. The only trouble we got into was from her father.” A huge grin. “Well, almost.”

  Zach’s gut clenched on the words sneak and trouble, but Toni was already geared to go.

  “That sounds like such fun. It’s been forever since we’ve gone on an adventure.”

  “Wonderful. I’ll pick you up right after breakfast and the two of us—”

  “Three of us,” Zach corrected quietly.

  Mateo turned his scowl from the stoic bodyguard to Toni, demanding a clarification.

  “Three of us,” she repeated. “Where I go, he goes.”

  “Really, Antonia, that’s not necessary.”

  “Yes,” Zach countered, “it is.”

  The two men locked stares, Mateo’s all passionate objection and Zach’s cool certainty.

  “The three of us,” the younger man conceded at last.

  “You’re going into the village?” Bryce leaned in excitedly. “Mind if we tag along? We could get some great candids. Not to mention some great deals on silver.”

  “You’re going shopping?” one of the stylists piped up. “We’ve been to the tourist shops across the street until the ATM went dry for the day, but our money transfers should go through by morning. Mind if we come along, too? We don’t know any Spanish.” Her heavily outlined blue eyes fluttered at Mateo. “And we could use someone who knows his way around a good bargain.”

  Mateo sighed and managed a heroically enthusiastic smile. “We’ll form our own tour group.”

  The girls squealed in appreciation and hugged their drunken dates, who by this time were fairly oblivious to everything but their goal of getting lucky.

  After a few moments watching the two youthful and overly demonstrative couples indulge in some PG-13 rapidly approaching R interaction, Toni pushed back from the table. The men on either side of her immediately jumped to attention.