Mia Zachary

Red Shoes and A Diary


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for the anxiety to pass but keeping Meghan in sight. He studied Rogelio Braga’s salt-and-pepper hair, impeccable tailoring, old world manners. If he wasn’t a drug trafficking felon, Alex might even have liked him.

      He touched his fingers to the book in his jacket. To think he’d been sorry about deceiving her.

      His gut twisted again. His hope that she wasn’t connected with the cartel vanished as he watched her laugh at something Braga said. Were they discussing him, and how she’d played him? Braga had invited “Nicholas” to Cayo Sueño in appreciation of him saving the man’s life. Ms. Foster, if that was really her name, must be the reward after all. Shit!

      He wanted to believe Meghan wasn’t part of this, that the room mix-up was pure coincidence. But, thinking about the woman in her journal, he acknowledged that she was doing one hell of a job hiding her true personality. He must be losing his edge to have been taken in so easily.

      Alex watched Braga place his hand on her forearm as he spoke. When Meghan nodded, he got up and walked away. She sat quietly for a moment before looking around the cocktail lounge. Her eyes moved in his direction and Alex stepped out from behind the pillar.

      She waved eagerly when she spotted him. If she were for real, he’d have cherished the greeting. Instead, he was pissed off that he’d fallen for the act, fallen for her. He scrutinized her as he strode toward the table. There was nothing but genuine pleasure in her smile, no pretence or deceit.

      Lord, let him be wrong.

      “Hi, Nick!” She indicated the chair beside hers. “I was beginning to wonder if you stood me up.”

      Nick. Yeah, that’s right. We both have roles to play, don’t we? He lowered himself into the seat, keeping his gaze fixed on her face. “You didn’t look lonely.”

      “What? Oh. That was just small talk. I wasn’t planning to throw you over for him.” She gave him a teasing smile and her hands fluttered to her lap. She seemed giddy, nervous. Guilty?

      “Who was he?” Even as he said it, the flat inflection of his tone revealed more than he intended.

      Meghan blinked in surprise. “Nobody. He just recognized me from the welcome reception.”

      He studied her carefully, but didn’t see any of the physical signs he’d been trained to look for. Then again, his instincts about women had failed him before. “You seemed to be pretty deep in conversation.”

      “You seem to notice a lot for someone who just showed up.”

      He acknowledged her quick retort with a slight grin. As far as he could figure, she was neither lying nor being evasive. For the moment. “Sorry. Army recon habits die hard.”

      The frown lines cleared from her brow, as did the tension in her shoulders. She leaned to one side of her chair, her elbow resting on the arm. The shift caused her dress to gap slightly, giving him a nice view of the lace edges of her pink bra.

      He didn’t remember her having this much cleavage. She must be wearing one of those lift-up push-together things. Not that he minded. She looked great. He just wanted to know why.

      “So what were you two talking about?”

      “He was telling me about the ruins on the east side of the island. Apparently, he’s a regular guest here at the resort.”

      “He was just following Julie’s advice, huh? Making sure you have a good time? I thought that was my job.”

      His gaze followed the fingers of one hand as she traced circles over the opposite wrist. Her gestures had a different energy tonight. Either her innate sensuality had been unleashed or the move was well rehearsed. Against his better judgment, he was seriously turned on. Meghan wasn’t the only one who wanted to explore some erotic fantasies.

      “You haven’t been hired yet.” She angled her head and regarded him from across the table. Her hot-pink lips tilted in a haughty smirk. “First of all, there’s a dress code.”

      “Hey, this is one of my favorite shirts.” He held open one side of his sports jacket to give her a better view of the green-and-orange pattern.

      “I’d hate to see what you passed over. All you need is a parrot and a rapier to complete the look.”

      More fantasies. More games. Fine. He was willing if it got his badge restored. He lowered his voice to an intimate level. “If you don’t like it, I’ll take it off. We can play the Lusty Pirate and the Tavern Wench.”

      “That sounds like an interesting fantasy.”

      “It’s one of many. I’ll tell you some other ones later.”

      With a delighted grin, she leaned back in her chair. “Okay, the job is yours. How much do you charge?”

      “I work on the barter system. Why don’t we start the negotiations over dinner?” He stood and went around to her chair.

      “I should warn you, I intend to drive a hard bargain.”

      He chuckled. “Let the games begin.”

      Alex extended his hand to help her up, glad for the chance to touch her. Holding Meghan’s soft fingers while she slipped her sandals back on, he was again treated to a glimpse of her cleavage. When she stood, their eyes met briefly and he knew she’d flashed him on purpose.

      More than her looks had been revamped. Whatever the cause, he really liked her new confidence. A bold sensuality hummed just below the surface. The new Meghan was a woman sure of herself and her appeal.

      Alex matched his gait to hers as they walked across the lobby toward Breezes, the outdoor restaurant. He admired the view as she strode ahead of him, head high and shoulders back. That sexy little swing to her hips sent a shudder of longing through him.

      Meghan glanced over one shoulder, her whiskey-colored eyes twinkling as if she wanted to make sure he was watching. Alex couldn’t have looked away if he tried. And, by the smug little grin on her pretty mouth, she knew it.

      Yeah. He definitely liked the change. Trouble was dangerously fascinating.

      But at the same time, her transition was so swift and so complete, he had to question it. Besides, the last thing he needed was to get involved with a possible suspect. Internal Affairs would just love that.

      He swept his gaze around the restaurant, cataloguing faces as he scanned the diners. He saw Rogelio Braga approach the bar across the veranda with two other men. One he recognized as a known trafficker from the hot sheets at the Miami office, but he didn’t know the third.

      He looked back at Meghan.

      Maybe he’d jumped to conclusions. Her conversation with Braga could have been as innocent as she’d made out. Then again, maybe it wasn’t. Either way, Alex intended to hold on to her journal for a while longer. It was the best way to find out who she really was.

      He’d also ask his partner to do a background check. He had to know if she was involved with the Miami cartel. But he couldn’t lie to himself. Something about her touched him on a level he’d almost forgotten existed. His interest was personal.

      4

      My whole body, my whole being, is on fire for his touch. I am overcome by need, ripe with longing for a man I’ve never met before and don’t intend to see again.

      “GOOD EVENING, Miss Meghan. Good evening, sir.”

      The maitre d’ of Breezes welcomed them as they approached the entrance. He led them toward an intimate table overlooking the Gulf. “Enjoy your meal.”

      She started to sit, but Nick took her arm. Her skin tingled at his touch and she turned her head to look up at him. He seemed distracted and an odd expression crossed his face, one she couldn’t interpret.

      “Is something wrong?”

      He smiled, but his gaze still focused over her shoulder as he maneuvered her