“So I left on deployment for the final time, thinking everything would be okay back home…that she’d be here when I returned.” Rip hesitated. “Only she wasn’t. While I was gone, her brother got into trouble and she went to help him. She ended up in the middle of a bad scene…and got shot.”
“I’m so sorry,” Lela said.
“I knew,” Rip said. “I’d known for years that her brother’s connection to the cartel was dangerous. I shouldn’t have left her. I should have made sure that she was safe.” He was too choked up to speak for a moment. “I was to blame. I was negligent.”
Lela wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that he couldn’t have predicted what happened. But she knew that Rip wouldn’t believe her. His fiancée had died over thirteen years ago, yet he spoke of it as if it had occurred yesterday.
Rip hadn’t moved on; he hadn’t forgiven himself for his transgression, whether real or imagined. Lela admired his loyalty, and his sense of responsibility to his betrothed. But she was aware of something else, too.
The fight against the cartel was personal for Rip. This wasn’t only about saving Lela, although she was sure that was part of it. He had other reasons to go after them.
“Did you find the guy who did it?” Lela said.
“I tried. I came home, took a leave of absence for the funeral. I did all I could, but parts of Mexico are corrupt and lawless. Once the guy went back, I had no way of tracking him down.”
Lela carried her own grudge against the cartel. She’d lost her father to a similar terror. It was likely Rip knew, since he’d checked into her background. She was the daughter of a cop killed in action.
She went over and sat on the ottoman in front of Rip. “I wish it could have been different,” she said, and put her hand on his knee.
“I can’t undo the past…but I can make sure that you’re safe.” Rip looked into her eyes. “I already lost one woman to the cartel. I won’t allow another innocent woman to be harmed. I promise to protect you…no matter the risk.”
Lela’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t know what to say. She had no doubt Rip meant what he’d said, and it touched her deeply.
When Lela squeezed his knee, Rip touched her cheek. She leaned in and kissed him. When her lips pressed to his, heat radiated through her body. She wanted him, needed to be closer. His soft, sensual mouth pulled her deeper into the emotion of the moment.
Rip didn’t pull away. Instead, he put his hand on the back of her head, digging his hand into her hair. He dipped his tongue into her mouth. The passion escalated, and Lela put her hands on his shoulders, lost in his maleness.
Sensation zipped through Lela like lightning, setting fire to her. She dug her hand into his silky hair and tasted his sexy mouth, craving him. He thrust his tongue along hers, then lightly licked over her lips. His kiss was laced with desire, yet tender and sensual.
Rip released her and looked into her eyes. His expression was soft, filled with longing. He pulled her toward him and kissed her again, her lips tingling from the intimate touch. Then he let go of her without a word.
Lela was desperately close to taking it further. With her life hanging by a thread, she needed Rip’s arms around her. A voice in her head told her it wasn’t real; it was heightened emotion because of the circumstances.
But that didn’t make her want Rip any less.
Quietly, she sipped her wine, unwilling to pry anymore that night. Rip had shared his past with her. It meant a lot. And she was weak from his hot kiss, smitten by the way he’d pulled her to him. His passion simmered below the surface, just as hers did.
Yet Lela shouldn’t give in; it wouldn’t be wise. There were so many reasons why it wouldn’t work. And Rip hadn’t made any advance. It was just one kiss. She’d enjoyed it immensely. It would be easy to give in to pleasure.
When Lela went to bed, Rip stayed out on the terrace. She left him alone with his thoughts, torn apart by what he’d confided in her. Sleep didn’t come easily; her thoughts were of tragedy, and of the horrors perpetrated by the cartel. But they were also of Rip, and her heart ached for his loss—while her body ached for his touch.
*****
The next morning before breakfast, Rip got a call. “Hey, man…sure… okay. Yeah, we’re fine.”
Lela watched him from across the table, admiring his broad shoulders and how his biceps strained against his shirt sleeves. She needed to get a grip. That kiss had rattled her.
“Okay, will do.” Rip put his phone on the table. “That was my boss Travis.”
“What did he have to say?”
“Get me some photos. He’s got things arranged to get ID made, but wants a current picture. It’s better to have one of you with your disguise on. So he said to dress how you want to look, then get a good photograph. We can do that today, then I’ll transmit it digitally. Shouldn’t be long before we have a new ID for you.”
“Okay, that can be our project for today—after breakfast,” Lela said, and grabbed some eggs from the fridge. “Eggs and bacon?”
“Sure, I’ll make the coffee.”
Rip busied himself with that task, not looking at Lela. He hadn’t mentioned the night before, and she certainly hadn’t brought it up. But when she looked at him, her body responded. For now, she just needed to get through breakfast.