Needful Surrender

And it’s in his eyes. More than anything, they are what give away what he really is. The way they take everything in, the way they narrow and focus.

Santos, I’m learning, is just as multi-faceted as Esteban. He has many personality traits that make him scary and dangerous. But he also has ones that, if used against him, could be his weakness. He’s cocky and arrogant. Two traits that might be exactly what I need to exploit.

I set my fork down and take a sip of water. “I know you.”

He flicks his gaze to mine, his fork full of food halfway to his mouth pausing. “Do you?”

Tapping the side of my glass with my fingernails, I say, “I wrote an article on you.”

He smiles. “Is that so? I’m sure it was a very interesting read.”

“No one read it. My editor sent it back to me saying there weren’t enough provable facts. He was afraid we’d be sued. At least, that’s what he said. But I believe he was afraid you’d come after us. Journalists turn up dead all the time, you know.”

His mouth quirks up. “I don’t bother with rumors printed in papers. Or with journalists.”

“They weren’t rumors. I actually did my research.”

“Was this all when you were researching Falcon, trying to find something that would bring him down?”

My tapping stops. “How did you know about that?”

“I did my homework too.” He takes his bite, scanning my face for a reaction. Hard as I try to remain impassive, he must see the shock, and that pleases him. “I’m curious. What did the article say about me? You mentioned how incredibly sexy I am, I hope.”

My gaze strays downward, where I catch sight of the Diablos tattoo on the inside of his wrist, exactly where I reported it would be. “There are enough accounts on your looks,” I say, still staring at the inked skull. “I wrote about the expanse of your territory. How it’s rumored to bleed into the United States.”

“Not exactly true, but I won’t elaborate.” He waves his hand dismissively.

“Women,” I say, shifting my attention to his large hands. “You’re a philanderer. Or you were, I suppose, until you got married.”

Were I not watching so closely, I’d miss the stiffening of his fingers and the minute clenching of his jaw when I lift my gaze.

“I’m not married.”

“Oh? But the other day, your cousin—”

“Misspoke,” he cuts me off. He raises his left hand as if the lack of a ring is proof enough. “Loved ones are a hazard in my world. Take you, for example.”

“Me?” I question, still staring at his fingers, not quite believing his story.

“Yes, you. If it weren’t for you, I might not have a powerful enough motivator. But now, Esteban will give me what I want. All thanks to you.”

I lift my eyes to his. “He doesn’t love me enough to give up Campo Escondido, if that’s what you’re after.”

“Oh, he does.”

“What if I don’t love him enough to risk my life? What if…” I stand, pushing my seat back a bit, and reach across the narrow table to touch his forearm. “What if I’d rather make a deal for my freedom?”

“A deal? What sort of deal?” he asks tensely.

“Well, you said you’re not married. That means we can work out some sort of arrangement that would benefit us both.” I lean in farther, bringing my face near his.

His lids lower slightly as he takes in the sight of my lips. “So you and Falcon aren’t…”

“We’re not.” I move closer.

Peering deeply into my eyes, he searches for something. Then he calls my bluff, pushing himself forward, almost grazing my mouth with his. But before it makes contact, I drop back into my seat.

He chuckles with real amusement. “You do love him. And he loves you.” He nods as if he’s agreeing with his own statement. “I saw the way he looked at you, and that was all I needed to know that he will give me whatever the fuck I want in exchange for your life.” It’s not so much what he says as the way his dark eyes look at me when he says it.

He called my bluff because, no matter what, I can’t hide the fact that I love Esteban. And he’ll kill me if Esteban doesn’t give in. Although the thought leaves me feeling as if all of my blood drains from me, my body going cold, I too called his bluff. He could have kissed me, but he pulled back just enough for me to notice. And in doing so, he gave himself away.

Behind me, Montero shifts, and I jump, spinning in my seat, ready to fight for my life. He frowns at me and continues to peel the banana he’s produced from somewhere.

Santos laughs and I turn back to him. “Don’t worry. Like I said, I’m confident Falcon will follow through. Now finish your meal. I’d hate to give you back to him malnourished.”

With my stomach tied in knots, I force the food down my throat.