Beyond Redemption (11 page)

Angelique snorted and yanked the towel off her head. “I’m aware of that, Mitch, and I politely turned down his dinner invitation. I don’t need a babysitter.” She sat on the upholstered ottoman at the foot of the bed and began to vigorously massage the lotion on her legs. “Besides, what’s it to you who I do or don’t talk to? You don’t own me, you know, despite what you might think, and our arrangement is null and void outside of Ecuador.” She looked over at him. The look on his face was as frightening as it was sensuous. Barely contained lust. Her heart went pitty pat, and she had a hard time swallowing. “Jesus, Acosta, haven’t you ever seen a woman rubbing moisturizer on her legs before?”

“It’s been too long, Angel,” he said, his voice thick as smoke.

“W-what?”

“Since you and I have been together.”

Right
. In actuality, it had only been a day.

He stood up and moved toward her, and she felt as though she might faint. He was in his usual garb, a vintage Hawaiian print shirt, unbuttoned, of course. Only tonight he’d swapped the shorts for a faded pair of Levi’s, and he was barefoot. He stopped in front of her and plucked the lotion from her lifeless hands.

“It hasn’t been that long, if you’ll remember. Besides, doesn’t matter. I didn’t invite you in, and I want you to leave.” Angelique shook her head as he sat down behind her and tugged at the lightweight robe until it slid off her shoulders and down her back.

“What—what are you doing?” Her tongue felt thick in her mouth.

“I’m putting lotion on all this beautifully tanned skin you can’t reach,” he told her, lifting her hair and draping it across her shoulder.

His hands were calloused but gentle as he smoothed the lotion across her back, rubbing in a circular motion. Strong fingers worked at the stressed tendons in her neck and the tops of her shoulders.

“Lots of tightness in your shoulders, Angel. You need to learn to relax.”

Fat chance with you in the room.

She didn’t answer, just gave herself over to the moment. What was there to say? Life in the refugee camp was stressful. Much like a MASH unit, Acosta had told her way back when, and like those units, people tended to find their pleasures where they could. She sighed as Mitch worked his fingers down her back, stopping at the base of her spine. Mesmerized, she didn’t protest when he kissed her neck.

“Your pulse is racing, Angel. You crave my touch; admit it. I’m going to put my hands on you now and make you forget you hate me.”

She shivered as he nipped her earlobe. “Damn it, Acosta. Sometimes I really hate you.”

Her head fell back against his shoulder, and he captured her mouth, kissing her greedily. He slid his hands around her to cup her breasts. He knew just how she liked to be touched. He pinched her nipples, and she gasped. The slight bite of pain sent a rush of heat to her pussy. Her head shouted no, but her body didn’t care, and when he slid a thick finger into her, she parted her legs to grant him better access.

Before she knew it, Acosta was naked and sheathed, and her feet were propped on the edge of the bench, the upper half of her body pressed back against the mattress, her legs spread wide as his mouth teased her pussy, nibbling and licking as his fingers fucked her. He meant for her come like this. He’d always been able to wring an orgasm from her before he even slid his cock into her. She gasped when his fingers twisted inside her to massage the wall of her vagina.

“Fuuuck!” She howled as her hips lifted and she came.

He didn’t give her a second to recover. He flipped her over and climbed onto the bench behind her, yanking her legs apart. He entered her with a brutal thrust, burying himself deep, then started pumping.

“Feel your pussy grabbing at my cock? You want me,” he said, pulling her to her knees. He filled his hands with her breasts and gave her nipples a hard twist. “You always want me, Angel. You don’t deny it, do you?”

“No! But that…doesn’t mean…I…have to like…it.”

One hand dropped to her mound. “Spread your legs wider, Angel. Good girl. I’m going to make you come screaming.”

She did as he commanded, and he rewarded her by stroking her clit. “More. Fuck me harder.”

“I’ll fuck you hard, Angel.”

He pushed her down until her chest pressed against the mattress, gripped her hips, and hammered into her fast and deep. “Come for me, Angel.”

Angelique fisted the covers as she moved with Mitch. She was close to another scalding orgasm, but she couldn’t quite get there and she screamed in frustration.

“You need more, baby?” Mitch growled. “I’m going to give you more.”

He slowed his pace for a moment; then she felt something cool against her anus. She held her breath.

“Yes,” she hissed.

His soft laugh sent a thrill up her spine; then a finger caressed the tiny rosette. “Before this trip is over, I’m going to fuck this pretty pink hole again,” he promised her. Then that teasing finger slid deep and he ground his cock into her. “Now you come, baby.”

She couldn’t have fought it if she’d wanted to. His thick cock speared her as another finger slid into her ass. The heat of orgasm washed over her, curling her toes.

“Ah…gaaah!” Her whole body contracted along with her pussy, and she wailed as Mitch’s cock thrust deep one final time and his voice mingled with hers in completion. “Christ,” Angelique murmured when she was capable of speech.

“Never forget how good we are together, Angel.” He shifted, stretched out on the bed, and pulled her up to lie against him.

“How could I when you won’t give me the chance? I just…I can’t justify your lifestyle with my feelings for you. Sex with you is like…a supernova. I’ve never denied that, but I can’t live with what you do, Mitch. I just can’t.”

His chest expanded under her cheek. “I understand but…while you’re here, while we’re away from the camp, can’t we just be two people who enjoy being together? Can you give me that much?”

“I don’t know. I… You confuse me so much. It’s hard for me to reconcile how a man can be so giving and kind to the people of Manos de Ayuda on the one hand, yet do the bidding of the worst criminals in Colombia on the other. I—I never stopped wanting you, Mitch, but I can’t be with you. Do you understand?”

He sighed. “You want me to leave now?”

She nodded, her throat thick from trying to hold back her tears. “Yeah, I think I do.”

“All right, I’ll go, Angel, but only if you promise to stay away from Alejandro Medina.”

“Who?”

“The man on the beach. He’s very bad news, Doc.”

Angelique nodded and rolled away from him. “Done.”

Acosta stood up, reaching for her. “Then it’s good night for tonight, Angel.” He pulled her against him, kissing her long and slow. “You don’t know it, but we’re meant to be together.” He touched the crescent-shaped scar next to his eyebrow, the one he’d received when she’d punched him with her gold ring. “You’ve marked me, and soon I’ll mark you.”

“Oh, Mitch, you already have.” She pulled away from him and scurried to the bathroom. She didn’t come out until she heard the door close behind him.

When Angelique woke in the morning, the first thing she thought of was the way Mitch had kissed her good-bye. Long, slow, and deep. The kind of kiss that curled a girl’s toes and left her feeling light-headed. That was one of the things she’d liked about him in the beginning. The man liked to kiss, and he had a real talent for it. Anybody, she’d reasoned, who kissed like that knew how to fuck, and Acosta was no exception—as he’d again demonstrated so aptly last night. She rolled out of bed and filled the tub. The phone rang just as she was about to settle in for a good soak. It was Marina.

“Hey, sugar, you ready for a day of shopping and pampering? Emilio has meetings all day, so I thought we’d go to the spa and then do some shopping.”

Angelique laughed. “Sounds wonderful. I was just getting ready to take a bath. When should I be ready?”

“Hmm,” Marina said. “How about right now? I have an appointment for us at the Copacabana Spa. We’re getting the works, which includes a lovely aromatic bath. We’ll be there for several hours; then we’ll hit the shops, and later this evening I thought we’d go to one of the street carnivals to get us in the mood for the Samba Parade.”

“Sounds decadent, but I’m game. I haven’t done decadent for a while. I’ll dress and meet you downstairs in a few minutes.”

* * * *

Marina hadn’t lied when she said the three-hour spa treatment would leave Angelique feeling rested and rejuvenated. Her skin practically glowed, she was softer than the proverbial baby’s bottom, and she’d been waxed within an inch of her life. She pulled on her white cotton short shorts and a stretchy turquoise one-shouldered top that made her boobs look great, and joined her friend in the waiting room.

“You see,” Marina said with a sweeping gesture. “I told you it would be worth the time it took. You don’t look like you’ve been working in one of the most dangerous areas on the Ecuadoran border. You look rested and quite beautiful. Now let’s go have some lunch and do some shopping.”

Angelique slung an arm around Marina’s shoulder, and the two walked arm in arm to the waiting limo. The bodyguard assigned to them by Marina’s doting husband opened the door, and the two women slid inside.

“Where to, señora?” the driver inquired.

“To the Rua do Lavradio, I think, for some lunch and poking about the antique stores.” She turned to Angelique. “Rua do Lavradio is the first residential street built in Rio. It’s a long cobbled road with the most beautiful colonial buildings. A lot of them have been turned into bars and restaurants, but there are quite a few antiques stores as well. It’s Saturday, so Feira do Rio Antigo is in full swing today. You’ll love it, Ange; it’s bustling with people selling clothes, art, and antiques. The bars and restaurants all have outdoor tables and chairs, so we can enjoy a bite to eat, then hit the market.”

The day was sunny and warm as Angelique and Marina sat at an outdoor table at Victor Bar e Restaurante enjoying large salads and glasses of white wine. The streets were packed with people; vendors and shoppers vied with cyclists and loud, smoky motorbikes. Everyone was smiling or laughing, reveling in the blue sky and sunshine. God, she loved Brazil. The women were gorgeous and not at all afraid to flaunt what the good Lord gave them. And the men were appreciative.

With lunch taken care of, the two women plunged into the crowds, making their way to a variety of stalls. The stoic bodyguard dutifully followed as they looked through stacks of books, framed art, and knickknacks of every kind. Angelique spied a vendor selling sundresses in every hue and pattern imaginable.

“I’m going across the street to look at those dresses,” Angelique told her friend. “Where I live at the moment, I need clothes that keep me cool.”

Marina was paying for a purchase. “I’ll be right there as soon as I pay for this belt for Emilio.”

The bodyguard moved to stop her. “Miss Vernet, Mr. Ruiz would prefer that you—”

“It’s all right. I’ll be in full sight every minute.” Angelique darted through a group of shoppers and crossed the street. She browsed through the rack, smiling and waving as Marina and her guard started across the street. She held up a bright yellow sundress with a bold floral print. “What do you think?” she called to her friend, then frowned at the look of horror on Marina’s face.

The bodyguard bellowed a warning as a man wrapped an arm around her chest and pulled her tightly against him. “I think you will look very beautiful in that dress, señorita, but no more shopping for you.”

Angelique turned her head. “I beg your…” She saw the syringe a heartbeat before the man jammed it into her neck and depressed the plunger. “What the fuck?” Then the world dissolved into chaos. Marina’s cries came to her as if from a great distance. The bodyguard fell to the ground, twitching. Angelique blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the sensation of falling; then she was falling. And the world faded to black.

* * * *

Angelique woke, woozy and nauseous. Where the hell was she, and why was it so dark? The darkness surrounding her was so complete she couldn’t see the hand she held in front of her face. Memory leaked through the confusion, and she remembered. Marina’s terror when she realized what was happening. Their protector convulsing in the middle of the street. Then the pain as the needle plunged into her neck. How long had she been out? Her mind summoned a small plane, turbulence that caused her to vomit, a man’s voice swearing at her. Then the needle again, and her captor had tossed her into the trunk of this car like a piece of luggage. With those flashes of recall, Acosta’s warning came to her, along with the word every visitor to South and Central America feared.

Kidnapped.

Fear constricted her chest, and for the longest moment it seemed as though she’d forgotten how to breathe. She wanted to pound on the trunk and demand they let her out. She curled into a tight ball, squeezed her eyes shut, and willed the nightmare away, hoping that when she opened her eyes, she’d find out this wasn’t really happening. That she wasn’t trapped in this small, dark space hurtling toward some unknown fate. She counted to ten and opened her eyes to the same pitch-blackness and covered her mouth to hold back a sob.

Over and over the memory of a crime documentary assailed her—never let an abductor get you into a vehicle, because once they do, you are at their mercy. She gave herself another few moments to wallow in fear, then forced herself to take deep, cleansing breaths and relax her body. Yes, she was at their mercy at the moment, but she would do whatever it took to get away. She reached out, searching the trunk for anything she could use as a weapon, and found her purse. Relieved, she dug around inside until she found the tiny penlight she always carried with her. She flicked it on and studied her surroundings.

“All right,” she whispered to herself. “Think, Ange. What do you know that can help?” And then it came to her. All American cars built past 2001 had mandatory emergency release latches for the trunks. She tried not to get her hopes up, but she nearly shouted with joy when she rolled onto her back and there it was, glowing in the dark, the emergency trunk release latch. Now for a weapon. She was afraid to wriggle and contort too much because she didn’t want her abductor to know she was awake, though with the bumpy roads they were driving on, that probably wouldn’t be a problem. She turned back onto her side and directed her light around the trunk’s interior. There was some kind of leather pouch Velcroed to the side wall of the trunk. She tugged at it until it released, and pulled it toward her. Inside the pouch was a flare gun and flares. “Okay, this might be useful.”