Page 54 of Her Reluctant Hero
What she wanted, but she needed barriers. She was alone in here with these strangers who made their living off women’s bodies. She scrambled for an excuse. “I’m not dressed for it, and I’d really much prefer finding Santiago.”
Jorge studied her critically. “Come back tonight.”
She blinked. “What?”
“Come back tonight and dance for me. If I like it, I’ll tell you what I know about Santiago.”
She gritted her teeth, wanting to demand that he tell her now, that every moment counted. But if Jorge was like his cousin, he would never respond to the threats of a woman. Maybe Alex could force him, but could she risk Jorge clamming up because she sicced a Ranger on him?
Could she risk that he was telling her the truth now? That he would tell her something if she stripped for him?
That he even knew anything to tell?
She had to take the chance. “What time do you want me?”
She’d been in there a long time, too long. Alex shoved open the car door and reached for the clutch piece at his ankle. Hell, the minute she’d disappeared behind that door, his skin had started crawling. He didn’t want her out of his sight. He definitely didn’t want her with that scumbag. What had she been thinking, going behind the door with that man? She would end up back in her Honduran prison.
He checked the area—almost dead this time of day—checked his ammo and got out of the car, edging around the building that fronted the street, moving toward the one set back, the one Isabella had entered.
When he protested this might be to risky, that Santiago might haul her back to Honduras, she’d said she didn’t care if Santiago caught her and sent her back, as long as she was with her son. But what kind of life was it for the kid? How long before Santiago started turning the boy against his mother?
She was taking a risk he didn’t want her to pay.
Gun at the ready, he headed toward the door, mentally taking in possible places for cover out here—trash can, sign, car, if he could get back to it—trying to picture the place inside. Bar, tables, three guys—maybe more. Who knew what these men were doing here at this hour? It sure as hell looked like they were coming for a meeting.
He reached the door just as it opened and Isabella stepped out. He managed to carry through—instead of aiming the gun at her head, he kept moving and tucked the weapon at the small of his back, flipping his shirt over it to hide it.
She startled, but he motioned her to be quiet and stepped behind the door, out of sight.
Damn, she was a good actress, because if the men behind her hadn’t seen her start, they would never know he was here. She looked back at them with a toss of her head.
“I’ll see you at ten.” She closed the door.
Keeping half his attention on the door and the other on the sashaying form of Isabella making her way to the car—okay, maybe seventy-thirty, and not weighted in the right way—Alex followed her.
Only when he sat beside her did he see her shaking.
“What happens at ten?” He turned the key in the ignition.
“I come back, dance for him, and he tells me what he knows about Santiago.” She covered her mouth with a shaking hand, her attention outside the car as they pulled away from the curb.
“Dance? You mean strip?”
She turned dark eyes to him—darker than usual, anyway. “That’s what kind of place it is. That’s what kind of girl I am.”
He wanted to tell her that she wasn’t that kind of girl, but he was too pissed. “You didn’t think it could be some kind of trap? He tells you to come at ten, he tells Santiago to come at ten, and there you go.”
“Of course I thought of that. I’m not as stupid as you think.”
Okay, she was defensive.
“How do you know he knows anything?” he asked, swallowing back all the comments he wanted to throw at her for being an idiot.
“I don’t. But we don’t have anything else, do we?”
“No.” Unless O’Malley had turned up something with the credit cards. “I’ll call, see if they’ve found anything from talking to the waitress.”
She relaxed a little and nodded as he dialed. O’Malley picked up on the fourth ring.
