Page 42 of Hot Soldier's Rescue

Yeah, right. And she was the Easter Bunny. “Well, regardless, you’re a natural with kids. You should have a bunch of your own someday.”

Alarm bordering on panic passed across his face. “Impossible.”

“Why not?”

He glanced over at the children, who were still kicking the ball back and forth. “Look what happened to them. Their father was in a violent business and got himself killed. And where did it leave them? Running for their lives through no fault of their own.”

Guilt speared through her. Memory of her persistent calls to congressmen, journalists and various international human rights groups flashed through her mind. She’d been one of the main reasons Garza’s violence had finally been exposed. She might not have pulled the trigger of the gun that killed him, but she’d darn well painted the target on his back.

She glanced over at Drago. “So you’d never consider leaving the arms business to pursue more peaceful endeavors?”

He shrugged. “Once you’ve made the kind of enemies I have, peace isn’t in the cards. The best I could hope for is to lie low long enough that my enemies eventually forget about me.”

“That doesn’t sound impossible.”

He shredded a long stem of grass into tiny bits and announced bitterly, “No woman would agree to living in danger for years just to be with me.”

“I would.”

She swore at herself. Had those words just come out of her mouth? She stood up hastily, studiously avoiding meeting his eyes as she gathered the remains of their meal and stuffed the trash into a plastic grocery bag. But oh, how she felt his gaze upon her, watching her every move with hawklike attention. She would not look at him. She would not look at him….

At the end of the day, it wasn’t as though she should or would find happiness, herself. After abandoning her parents, blithely going out to pursue her own fun and leaving them behind to die, she didn’t deserve an instant of joy for the rest of her life.

The children reluctantly ended their play at Drago’s quiet declaration that it was time to go. She had to give the kids credit for having been tremendously patient about being cooped up so long in the backseat of a car. Hopefully, they were too young to understand the danger they’d been in yesterday, but she feared they were fully aware of how close to dying they had come.

Mia and Emanuel had no more choice about who their father was and what he’d done than she did. She had that in common with them, too. All three of them were victims of Valdiron Garza.

Grandma was stoic about the loss of her home. She’d been penniless and displaced before, apparently. She seemed to grasp that being alive and safe was what truly mattered. All the creature comforts and possessions could be replaced. Elise knew better than most that family could not be replaced, however.

The children came over to the Jeep, panting, and Drago loaded them into the vehicle with quick ruffles of their hair that brought smiles to the children’s faces. Yup, a natural with kids.

“How much longer are you planning to drive?” Elise asked him.

“Until the Army of Freedom finds us.”

“What if they don’t?”

“Then I guess I’ll have to find them.”

“With all of us in tow?”

“Tell me where you’d like me to drop you off—someplace that’s reasonably safe—and I’ll be happy to oblige you.”

Elise sighed. No place in Colombia was safe for the Garza children. Their father had terrorized people from one end of the country to the other. Her original plan was still the best one: make for a city with an international airport and get the heck out of Dodge.

Grandma spoke up from the backseat. “You wish to find the Army of Freedom?”

Elise turned around, surprised. “Do you know how to do that?”

“Of course. My son and daughter are both freedom fighters. Go to Mercado. There’s a hotel called La Guarida del Diablo.”

“The Devil’s Den?” Elise muttered in English. “Well, isn’t that just cheerful?”

Drago snorted beside her.

“Do you know it?” she asked him.

“How hard can it be to find with a name like that? Everyone for miles around will know where it is.”

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