Hidden Agenda (12 page)

“Kirkland’s now in charge. Cord told me Nate is off this one.”

“Well, I’ll be double damned.” Jorge sighed, smiling. “I knew
El Halcón
couldn’t keep his hands clean by passing himself off as a Jamaican entrepreneur.”

“Falcon is the best man for this operation, and we both know it,” Matt murmured under his breath.

“When is all of this going down?” Jorge asked, his dark eyes bright with excitement and anticipation.

Matt accepted another bottle of beer from his grinning friend. “Cord will be here in less than three weeks. He’ll have the dates and positions on everything and everyone. I’m going over to Puerto Escondido
in a few days to visit my grandparents. While I’m there I’ll see what I can pick up on my own.”

“When it hits, Mateo, all Mexico is going to feel it.”

He nodded in agreement. “Just be sure you’re far enough away from here when it does happen.” He stared down at the scarred table top. Talking about getting out of Mexico reminded him of Eve and her son. He had to find the little boy before Joshua Kirkland and his men began their campaign.

“I’m sending Lilian and the kids up north to her sister in Nueva Casas Grandes,” Jorge said softly. “From there I’ll have the American authorities get them back to the States.” Jorge’s eyes narrowed as he peered closely at Matt. “What about you, Mateo? Do you have any idea of what you’re risking by throwing in with the rest of us? Mexico is your home. You still have family here. What are they going to think about you once everything is out in the open? The Arroyo name will be worth less than donkey dung.”

Matt propped his feet up on a chair and leaned back against a wall. “I’ve thought about it. I’m hoping I can remain far enough away from the center of activity so I won’t be implicated or named when the authorities come around asking questions.”

“How about your wife? Does she know about you? Does she know that her husband will be up to his ears in Mexican drug trafficking?”

“Eve knows nothing,” he mumbled harshly.

Jorge leaned closer. “She’s American?”

Matt searched for a cigar, then remembered he’d left them back at the house. Jorge pushed a pack of cigarettes across the table. They were a Turkish brand.

He shook his head, refusing the cigarettes. “Yes,
she’s an American,” Matt confirmed, staring at his contact. Jorge Martín was more than a contact. He was a boyhood friend from Texas. They ran together as teenagers, dated the same girls and joined the military together. After they were discharged, they lost contact with each other until Matt was reunited with the undercover DEA agent less than a year ago. Now, again, they had to watch each other’s backs.

Jorge leaned back on his chair, frowning. “What the hell are you doing bringing her down here?” he hissed.

“I’m trying to locate her son.”

“Here in Mexico?”

Matt decided to be direct. “Her ex-husband kidnapped the boy.” His jaw hardened noticeably. “She was married to Alejandro Delgado-Quintero.”

Jorge stared at Matt in disbelief. “What are you going to do to Delgado?” he asked as a savage expression distorted Matt’s features, an expression that he was familiar with. It meant trouble. Serious trouble for Delgado.

“Nothing until I get the child back. Then I’m going to cut him into little pieces for shark bait.” He drained his bottle of beer. “How about you and Lilian come up for dinner one night? Bring the kids if you can’t get someone to watch them.”

“I think she’d like that.” Jorge gave Matt a weak smile. “In fact, both of us would like that.”

The rain had stopped and the emerging sun revealed its tropical brilliance in the late afternoon shadows. Eve ignored the wetness seeping through the canvas covering of her jogging shoes as she inched her way down the slope. The raucous cries of birds and other forms of wildlife filled the humid air, and the redolent
aroma of wet earth rose sharply in her nostrils. Water from rustling activity in a tree rained on her.

The hill leveled off until it flattened to a dirt-packed plateau. Recalling what Matt had told her about Indian ceremonial places of worship, she wondered if this hill had been flattened for that purpose hundreds of years before. Shielding her eyes with her hand, she stared out at the stretch of beach near the ocean, and turning east she saw the density of the jungle and what she assumed was the country of Guatemala.

She continued her tour, gasping loudly when she discovered a waterfall spilling over into a large pool of clear, cold water. Lying flat on her belly, she looked down into the pool, trying to determine its depth. All around her, vines, wild flowers in every hue, and large fronds from towering trees created a curtain that tempted her to partake of the natural splendor of the exotic boudoir.

Eve took off her shoes and trailed her feet in the water. She’d managed to repress her impulsiveness. Leaning back on her hands, she closed her eyes. For the first time in her life she felt free from ridicule and rigid restrictions.

Whenever she came home from school during a recess, she had made certain to do and say what was proper so that her father and stepmother wouldn’t think about sending her back. It was always “Thank you” and “Yes, Ma’am” and “Please,” and of course, “Thank you very much.”

All of her good manners and demure smiles went completely unnoticed. She’d always been sent back to school.

She punished her teachers and her classmates
instead of her parents. She broke curfew, wore makeup, and chewed gum. Floyd and Janice Blackwell were unable to believe the reports they received from the headmistress, and promptly re-registered her for another year, praying she would become the model daughter they sought.

The sun shifted position, filtering light through the trees, and Eve moved over to a sunny spot to take advantage of the strong rays. Moisture formed quickly on her flesh as she tied the hem of her blouse under her breasts in a tight knot. Resting her back against a massive tree trunk, she closed her eyes.

Eve had to sort out her feelings. She kept telling herself that she was afraid of Matt, but the more she thought about it the more she realized that he didn’t frighten her—what he did for a living did. With this, she felt guilty. She’d come to him for help, then become guilt-ridden whenever snatches of morality crept into her consciousness. Even after she dismissed how Matthew Sterling earned his living, he continued to haunt her. Her needing him went beyond needing; she now wanted him.

She hadn’t thought she would ever want a man the way she wanted Matt. Total surrender and possession. That was what she was ready to offer him.

It was those feelings that made her tongue as sharp as a rapier in order to keep him at a safe distance. She would not permit herself to get close. There was no way she could make it back this time from the heartache and disappointment.

M
att stood watching Eve as she sucked in her lower lip. She was engrossed in dicing onions and didn’t see him as he crept silently into the kitchen. Her hair had been neatly brushed off her forehead and over her ears. He smiled. She wore one of his T-shirts over a pair of shorts. The sleeves ended below her elbows, and the hem inches above her cuffed shorts. Her firm breasts moved gently under the cotton shirt as she reached up for a platter from an overhead cabinet.

Being drawn into this scene of domesticity was like a punch in the gut; he’d missed so much. Now he knew how Carlos felt when he’d talked about wasting so many years playing the perennial bachelor before he married Alma. Walking into the house filled with mouthwatering smells and seeing Eve casually dressed and concentrating on preparing a meal he would share
with her grabbed him and stirred emotions he hadn’t realized he possessed.

He had only known her for a month, and already he’d grown used to her shy smiles and seductive glances. There were times she was so at ease with him that he couldn’t help responding to her. He’d say something to make her smile, and she would lower her chin and glance up at him through thick, black lashes.

It had shocked him once he realized he was falling in love with her; he made love to her in his mind because he was honest enough with himself to know that once he claimed her soft, fragrant body he would never let her go. There was the realization that every woman he’d ever met became meaningless when he thought of the woman he’d claimed as his wife.

He knew what she looked like with his eyes closed, what she smelled like—even if he had to pick her out in a dark room with ten other women—and when they were apart his mind always drifted back to the satin blackness of her eyes that teased, seduced, and went through him.

“What’s on the menu,
Preciosa?
”

Eve spun around, giving him an open smile. “French onion soup, salad, veal cutlets sauteed with herbs, and a peach mousse.”

Matt strolled into the kitchen and examined the table covered with bunches of fresh herbs. “I see you discovered Horst’s herb garden behind the house.”

Eve brushed past Matt. She separated several leaves of thyme from parsley. “I discovered his garden and his delightful waterfall.” His hands circled her waist, stopping her as she turned back to the sink.

She went limp when he lowered his head and pressed his mouth to the nape of her neck. Closing her
eyes, she couldn’t stop the soft groan escaping her parted lips. “Matt, no.”

“Why not, Eve?”

“I…I have to finish dinner,” she mumbled ineffectively.

“I’d rather have you for dinner,” he teased. “Think of me as the Big Bad Wolf who has his hungry eyes on Goldilocks. And this time there’s no woodcutter to save you.”

Eve giggled. “Wrong story, Matt. It was Goldilocks with the Three Bears, and Red Riding Hood with the Wolf.”

Matt’s hand searched under the red T-shirt. “You’re wearing red, so I’m not entirely wrong.” His fingers brushed the velvet flesh over her ribs until they grazed a ripe breast.

The gesture shocked Matt as much as Eve. They both froze. Her breath was coming quickly as her breast filled his large hand.

His hand fell away, the red shirt floating back into place around her thighs. “I’m sorry.”

All she could do was nod as he turned on his heel and walked out of the kitchen. She clenched her teeth tightly, her fingers shredding the pungent herbs as they floated to the floor. He was sorry, and she was a mass of screaming nerve endings.

“Damn you, Mateo,” she mumbled. Damn him for being so attractive. And damn him for teasing her.

Matt watched Eve take a sip of wine. “How do you like it?”

Eve rolled the wine around on her tongue, then swallowed it. “Excellent.”

“Châtenauneuf-du-Pape, 1978,” Matt stated. He took another swallow of the vintage red wine. “I must remember to leave a note for Horst, thanking him for replenishing his wine stock.” He raised his glass. “And I thank you for a delicious meal.”

Eve flashed him a slow smile. “I thank you for not leaving leftovers. I don’t like to eat the same thing the next day.” Matt bowed to her from across the table.

He drained his glass of wine. “I’ll keep that in mind. But if you continue to prepare meals like you just did you’ll never have any leftovers.”

Preparing tasteful and eye-appealing meals was an art she had perfected once she had moved to Washington. And as a diplomat’s wife she had earned a reputation by hosting some of the most elegant and extravagant dinner parties in the capital city.

“Are you ready for dessert?”

Matt didn’t answer, preferring instead to stare at Eve. She was the most feminine woman he’d ever met. Being feminine was as inherent to her as taking her next breath, and he found her delicate beauty startling.

The curve of her eyebrows, the slant of the large black eyes, the straight nose and wide generous mouth that he had discovered was made to be tasted all held him spellbound. She was like an oasis in the desert where he’d become a wanderer seeking her life-giving fruit.

“You’d better think about putting some protection on your face before you decide to sunbathe again,” he suggested. The end of her nose and her cheekbones were darker than the rest of face. “And on any other area you’ve manage to expose,” he added in a teasing tone.

“You’ve got a dirty mind, Matt,” she retorted softly.

“Didn’t you go skinny-dipping?”

Eve shrugged a shoulder. “I thought about it, but changed my mind,” she confessed. She couldn’t believe he was that perceptive. Maybe she was that easy to read.

Lines deepened around the golden eyes which had spent too many years squinting in the hot sun. “Why is it that men have to have dirty minds? Just once I’d like to know what you
innocent
women talk about when you get together for a bridal shower. It can’t be too chaste if men aren’t allowed to participate.”

Eve stood up and began clearing the table. “What about your bachelor parties?” she threw over her shoulder as she made her way from the dining room up the three steps to the kitchen.

Matt followed, his hands filled with stacked dishes and cutlery. “Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, Señora Arroyo. We have women at our bachelor parties.”

“Sure you do. Topless bimbettes and strippers.”

He arched an eyebrow. “They’re still women,
Preciosa
.” He glanced at Eve and she stuck her tongue at him.

Eve watched as Matt rinsed dishes and stacked them in the dishwasher. He seemed quite comfortable in the kitchen. Alex had never entered their kitchen, saying it wasn’t the place for a man.

“You guys don’t take it too well when women go to clubs to see male dancers, do you?” she challenged.

Matt sobered quickly. “Male strip joints,” he snarled in disgust.

“Exotic dance clubs,” she insisted.

“We won’t argue about semantics, Eve,” he stated
firmly, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. “Those places are set up to cater to frustrated women who fantasize about something they’re not getting at home.” His machismo wouldn’t allow him to admit to her that there were frustrated men at home as well.

Eve went rigid. She thought about Alex and his affairs. What hadn’t she given him, to make him stray? “And just what is that?” she asked. The atmosphere had become tense and strained.

Matt reached out, drawing her close to his body. His eyes lingered on her frowning face. “Sex.”

She met his unwavering stare. “I don’t think they need sex as much as they need love.”

“Wrong, Eve.” The amber and green lights in his eyes sparkled like precious gems. “Love and sex are not inseparable. When a man loves a woman he’s able to express that love through the very intimate act of sexual intercourse. He discovers what pleases her, and each time she offers her body he makes certain that she’s satisfied before he takes his own pleasure. However, some men are selfish. They’re only concerned with their fulfillment, leaving women to search elsewhere for gratification. Whether it’s
exotic male dancers
, books, porno flicks, or another man, they usually aren’t to blame. That is, if they are normal women.”

Eve stared up at him in astonishment. She was unable to believe he was that sensitive. “You seem to know a great deal about women and their needs.”

His hands dropped and she took a step backward. “I’ve known a lot of women,” he stated in a solemn tone, “and I’m also a good listener.”

She lowered her chin, peering up at him through her lashes. “With other mens’ wives?”

He snorted softly. “I only
listen
to their wives,
Preciosa
. I wouldn’t like to be a cuckold, therefore I wouldn’t put some other man on the receiving end of my philandering.”

How unlike Alex
, she thought, her smooth forehead wrinkling. Alex thought all women were his for the taking—married or single. Somehow no woman was immune to his charm.

“Eve?”

Matt’s voice brought her back to the present. “Yes.”

His forefinger touched her lower lip. Leaning down, he replaced it with his firm mouth. “Don’t look so worried, Darling. For as long as we’re married I’ll remain faithful to you.”

“It wouldn’t bother me if you weren’t,” Eve replied, turning away. “After all, we both know this so-called marriage isn’t a real one.” She didn’t want to believe what she was saying. How she wished she had married Matt first.

Matt’s fingers circled her waist, drawing her back against his length. “That’s where you’re wrong. We are married, and we’ll remain married until I let you know it’s over.” He loosened his grip, turning her around until she faced him. “When are you going to get it into your brain that this is not a game we’re playing? Alex Delgado isn’t your common peon from a coffee plantation. He’s a member of a privileged family, a very wealthy and influential family. He was an official representative from this country, and still has all of the connections. You don’t need me to remind you of that.”

“What makes you think you can penetrate this wall of protection Alex has set up around him?”

Matt wanted to tell her of his plan, but couldn’t. To tell her would make her too aware of the danger he would be drawn into. He would have to protect her—with his own life if necessary.

“I’ll get to Delgado because I don’t play by the rules, Eve. I’ll meet with him, get the information I want regarding your child, and make the appropriate arrangements to get both of you out of Mexico.” He exhaled heavily, trying to relieve the tightness in his chest. “You’ve got to trust me, Darling. If you don’t trust me, then we might as well call it quits right now. What’s it going to be?”

Eve melted against his body. She needed him. Who else did she have? “You win, Matt. No more questions. No more doubts.”

“How about our marriage?”

She smiled. Her left hand grazed his chest before her fingers caught the fabric of his black T-shirt. The overhead light caught the fiery sparkle of the diamonds nestled between blood-red rubies. “What about it, Mateo? I’m Eve Arroyo. Who did you think I was?” she crooned.

Matt lowered his chin to the top of her head, trying not to laugh. Eve was like an addiction. She was bad for him, but he wasn’t ready to give her up. Not yet.

A bright, rising sun in a still clear sky was all Eve needed to convince her to seek out the waterfall she’d discovered the day before. The house was quiet and the door to Matt’s bedroom was closed as she made her way down the staircase and out of the house.

She had surprised herself when she slept soundly through the night in the strange bed. She hadn’t
heard Matt climb the stairs hours after she had bid him good-night.

He’d sat smoking, giving her a nod when she told him she felt fatigued. The golden eyes said what he refused to say—
stay here with me
. She was going to change her mind, but decided against it. She didn’t want to become too used to him. Sleeping under the same roof and sharing meals and chores was enough. She didn’t want to compound their temporary liaison by establishing a routine of talking about their pasts and what they wanted for their futures.

The tropical sun had begun to harden the dirt-packed road, and she found it easier to navigate the path to the pool. The day was alive with shrill noises and rustling movements from the tall trees reaching upward above the jungle floor.

Trailing vines with tiny flowers wound themselves around massive branches. Eve stopped to watch a minute green lizard become a part of a large leaf before its darting tongue flicked out, catching a fat, unsuspecting, hairy insect. The lizard had its breakfast.

She wanted to get in a swim before she returned to the house to prepare her own breakfast. A canopy of leaves graced her tropical boudoir as she sat down on the grass. Moisture had already formed on her skin by the time she pulled her T-shirt up over her head, kicked off her muddied jogging shoes, and slipped out of her jeans.

She judged the pool to be about eight feet wide and at least six feet in depth. A gentle rush of water over smooth rocks drowned out the cries of monkeys and large-billed birds. Adjusting the straps of her black maillot, she eased her feet and legs into the icy-cold water.

Eve had put on the one-piece swimsuit when she remembered Matt’s comment about her skinny-dipping. The sun filtering through the trees warmed her quickly as she slipped into the pool and floated on her back, then on her face. She lost track of time as she frolicked like a child.

The sun had shifted position by the time she swam over to the edge of the pool; holding on to the smooth rocks, she hoisted herself up and out of the water. She slipped back, sputtering and gulping a mouthful of water as strong fingers gripped her wrist.

“What’s the matter, Señora?”

Eve blinked furiously and glared up at a smiling Matt. Treading water, she floated back into the middle of the pool. “What are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack by sneaking up on me?”

He stood up, hands folded at his waist. The heat in her face had nothing to do with surprise, but with the shock of observing Matt wearing nothing more than a brief pair of black swim trunks that could hardly be called decent. They rode low on his trim hips, leaving nothing to her imagination as to his obvious maleness. The sparse triangle of fabric teased more than concealed. The thick, black hair covering his chest, arms and long muscled legs made his golden-brown skin appear darker.