Loe raamatut: «Playing With Fire»

CHAPTER ONE

SIMON RODRIGUEZ PULLED off the road across from the gated entrance of the Spanish-style house and put the rental car into Park. He rubbed his jaw, scraping his fingers over the unshaven scruff he hadn’t bothered with this morning at the hotel. No one lived in this house anymore as far as he knew. No one would witness this one last glimpse at the place that had almost wrecked him.

He pulled off his sunglasses and rolled down the window of the black town car for a better look. Damn, it was hot in Miami Beach, that sticky, heavy hot that made an afternoon of construction work a living hell. He had quit that kind of manual labor when he enlisted and left Miami eleven years ago, but his reaction was still visceral. Just one more reason he’d gotten the fuck out of here, out of this state, out of this country. Away from the one woman Simon should never have gotten involved with.

Best decision of his life.

So, what was he doing here, in front of Marianna Ruiz’s house? She had moved out of this place years ago when she got married. The gate was locked shut. And wasn’t it damned fitting that even after her father’s death, Simon was still barred from the place.

He was saying goodbye for the very last time. That was what he was doing. Clearly, the other last time wasn’t painful enough to keep him away. But there was nothing left to suck him in again. He’d just get a little closure.

Simon stared at the enormous structure behind the gates, partly hidden behind lush green palm trees that lined the property. Off to the side, the very top of the boathouse was visible, the boathouse he and his father had built one summer long ago. If Marianna hadn’t sold off her father’s estate yet, it probably still sheltered the boat where he and Marianna had—

A red sports car screeched to a stop by the driveway. Startled, Simon whipped his head around. The gates creaked open, and the vehicle lurched forward, tires squealing. It headed up the narrow asphalt, then shrieked to a halt again, front tires digging into the grass. The driver laid on his horn a couple times. What the hell?

The front door of the house opened, and a woman stepped out. Her face was covered in shadow as she closed the door behind her, but he’d know that woman anywhere.

Marianna.

It was a punch in the gut. Her dark, wavy hair was longer now, and she wore a white button-up shirt and a red skirt. Definitely a woman, not a girl anymore. Still beautiful.

Marianna pushed her hair back from her face and crossed her arms. As she stepped into the sunlight, walking down the front steps toward the sports car, he fought that old, familiar ache deep down.

Simon frowned. What was Marianna doing here, at her father’s old house? And what the hell was up with the driver of the car?

A man climbed out and slammed the door shut, heading toward her way too fast. Simon gripped the steering wheel of his rental, ignoring the painful squeeze in his chest. The guy was clean-cut, with a crisp dress shirt and pants, but his fists were balled, and his face flushed in angry red. And he was walking toward the woman Simon had told himself he never wanted to see again. He should turn on the engine and get far away from here before he did something stupid.

“Goddammit, Marianna. What the fuck are you trying to pull?” the guy yelled.

The asshole stormed up to her, coming way too close. And yelling way too loud. “You can’t just go down to the pier and ask to open up the shipments. You have no idea the kind of shit you’re messing with.”

Marianna shrank back from him, but the guy took that as an invitation to step closer. Simon gritted his teeth, wishing like hell he had just stayed away.

She stumbled a little as she stepped onto the lawn. The dickhead was a lot bigger than her, but even as she backed away, she jutted her chin up at him, trying to hold her ground. Like she had stood up to him before.

Simon grimaced. Shit. The situation was going downhill fast. He couldn’t leave a scene like this. He had years of reading incidents under his belt, and everything about this guy screamed volatile.

“It’s my company, too, William,” she said, her voice steady. “In fact, it’s my name that’s on it, in case you’ve forgotten.”

William. Her husband. William Rooney III, a name synonymous with wealth and privilege. Everything that Simon couldn’t give her eleven years ago. My cue to get the fuck out of here. Except that William looked more like a brawler than a country-club boy right now, and Simon didn’t like Marianna’s odds if the man decided to get physical. This guy was twice her size and had a volatile look about him.

Now wasn’t the time for Simon to lose his shit. He had watched this kind of scene play out too many times, men teetering on the delicate line between anger and violence. This one could go either way. But Simon was not getting out of this car. He was not coming face-to-face with Marianna again. Not unless there was no other way.

“You know nothing about what makes Ruiz Imports work, and it will all come crashing down if you don’t back the hell off.” William’s loud growl echoed across the lawn as he moved into her personal space. “So go back to your client dinners and your charity bullshit and leave this alone.”

Marianna shook her head. “You need to leave or I’ll call the police. This is my house. You can’t come here.”

“Don’t ever tell me what to do.”

His voice was low and menacing, and the asshole grabbed her arm. Marianna flinched.

It all happened so quickly that Simon didn’t remember getting out of his car. The next thing he knew he was walking straight for them, taking in the environment, calculating every risk. This man was heated, explosive, and all Simon could think about was getting him far away from Marianna.

He headed through the gate and crossed the lawn, just out of William’s line of sight. Every step forward was a strain on his tight grip of self-control. He was silent until he was within reach. Best to catch this guy off guard. Probably the type that only responded to a show of power.

“Take your hand off her.” Simon’s voice was cold, threatening.

“Who the hell are you?” William swung around, his eyes wild. “This is none of your fucking business. Leave. Now.”

Anger rolled off this guy, but now it was directed at Simon. The guy’s focus was broken.

“Simon?” whispered Marianna. The shock on her face was unmistakable.

His heart twisted in a fresh, painful squeeze. Goddamn. That voice. He couldn’t get distracted. He couldn’t even look at her. Not until this asshole was far away.

“Take your hand off her.” Simon kept his voice calm but wedged himself between William and Marianna.

The guy was a bully, but up close he didn’t look like much of a fighter. It took another moment for William to register that Simon had every advantage here. Height. Weight. Technique. Scowling, William let his arm drop and stepped back.

“You don’t know what the hell you’re getting involved with,” William spat.

Actually, Simon knew exactly what he was getting involved with.

“She asked you to leave,” said Simon.

Every time William hesitated, Simon inched over, putting himself farther between the two, keeping Marianna shielded behind him. William shook his head in disgust, backing away toward the car. “Stay the fuck away from the piers, Marianna. You’re already in too deep.”

William climbed into the red sports car and revved the engine. He skidded back onto the pavement and drove away.

Simon stood absolutely still as the noise from the engine faded away. Then there was nothing left except the din of neighborhood traffic, the gentle brush of the palms in the wind and Marianna’s breaths. Slowly, he turned around.

She gaped at him. “Simon?”

His name was both a question and a sigh. Her voice, soft and raspy, awoke something that was supposed to be long dead, dead and buried. Simon searched for words, but nothing came.

Get your shit together and get out of here.

But neither of them moved, their eyes locked. Slowly, he drank her in. Full lips, parted. Eyes wide with surprise. She hadn’t changed much physically. Maybe a little rounder in the hips, her breasts a little fuller, but he knew that expression well. And for a second, a wave of nostalgia hit him so hard it nearly knocked him over. How had he not been prepared for this?

Brushing a strand of hair off her face, she looked away.

“What the hell was that?” he asked. The words came out gruffer than he’d intended.

She didn’t say anything. Just held very still.

“Mari?” he said, softer.

Her shoulders rose, and she brought a shaky hand to her mouth. Damn. Bold, strong Marianna Ruiz was about to lose it.

Instincts took over. Simon took a step closer—to do what exactly he didn’t know. She shuddered and turned away a little. Just as he started to step back, she slowly faced him again. Her shoulders dropped, and she buried her face in her hands. She breathed in and let out a long, deep sigh. Was she shaken by William, or at seeing him again?

“It’s really you, Simon,” she said, finally meeting his eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The scent of her perfume was cracking the dam he had built to hold back these memories. He shook his head. He had to get ahold of himself, but now that she was so close, it was impossible to not reach out and touch her.

No, it wasn’t impossible. Because he had spent the last eleven years doing just that. Still, the sight of her hazel eyes, soft and dewy with unshed tears, was killing him.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on, Mari?” he said, his voice raw.

Marianna glanced away again, shaking her head.

“I gather that was your husband.” The man who was good enough for her to marry. He swallowed back all the bitterness that was flooding in. Time to focus on what was happening right now. “It’s not my business, but he looks like an asshole. An abusive asshole. You’re in a bad situation, aren’t you?”

Marianna’s eyelashes fluttered closed. “It’s a long story, Simon.”

“I’m not in a hurry,” he said, coaxing her softly. “I see this kind of thing in my line of work.”

She bit her lip. “I know.”

She knows? How much did she know? Did she break down some nights and search for clues about his life the way he did with hers?

Simon stepped back and ran his hand through his hair, trying to shut out the clench in his gut. But he stopped, midgesture when he caught her gaze traveling over to his biceps. Her eyes snapped back to his face, filled with heat and longing, and then the look was gone. Her cheeks flushed, and she turned away.

He took a steadying breath and frowned. The seductive pull between them hadn’t changed. Probably never would.

Finally, Marianna let out a deep breath. “What are you doing in Miami? I thought you lived in Australia now.”

Her question was more of an accusation. He didn’t blame her, not after the way things ended between them.

Simon didn’t react. “Just a quick stop in the States for work. So I came to Miami to visit my father’s grave.”

The truth, but not anywhere near the whole truth.

“And you happened to pass by my house?”

“Something like that.”

Her hazel eyes turned darker as she sized him up again. Her husband was long gone, the threat dissipating into the heavy Miami heat. He should leave now, get away from the memories of her that were threatening to pull him under.

Her hands on his hips. Her breaths in his ear as she whispered every dirty thing she wanted to try. They had been better together than any eighteen-year-olds deserved. Now that he knew what the hell he was doing? Shit. It would be the kind of thing he’d never recover from. It was time to let her go again.

He thought he was angry when he pulled up in front of her house, but Simon had no idea what to call this punch-in-the-gut reaction to seeing her again. Not quite anger. Something murkier.

She crossed her arms. “I still haven’t forgotten how you left things between us.”

“I know.”

“Just so we’re clear,” she said softly, then nudged her head at the house. “Let’s go inside.”

Marianna pulled her keys out of her pocket and pressed the driveway gate lock. Then she turned her back on Simon and started for the front door.

What the hell was he doing here, after all these years? Simon Rodriguez. The man who still haunted her dreams every now and then, though haunted was hardly the word for what happened in those dreams. And, damn, he was even sexier than she remembered. Different. A little bigger, a little harder. And now he had shown up, right when this mess with William had taken yet another turn for the worse. When she was vulnerable.

Why is he here? How is he here? I don’t hear from him for a decade and now he just appears...

If he had come looking for anything close to the eighteen-year-old girl he left, he was wasting his time. She was gone. That spoiled girl wanted fun with a fairy-tale ending. That was before real life had happened, taking her illusions with it. Love was the first illusion to go—Simon took care of that when he’d dropped her years ago with no warning—followed by marriage, trust and loyalty, all at once, thanks to William. The only piece of her childhood she still clung to was family—and with her parents gone, that meant the family’s company legacy.

Marianna should have simply thanked Simon on her front lawn and sent him away. No, because she still didn’t understand what was going on. Just happened to drive by her house? Not a chance. Inviting him in would give her a little time to pry it out of him.

But her hands were still shaking as she gripped the handrail to the front steps. Goddamn William and his unyielding fight for power over Ruiz Imports.

“So, you’re living here again?” His voice came from close behind her. Close enough to feel the sharp hum of attraction between them. Or maybe just echoes of their past.

Marianna paused, halfway up the stairs, trying to wrap her mind around the question he had asked. How much should she tell him about the end of her marriage? She didn’t turn around. “Ever since I left William. We divorced shortly after my father passed away.”

“I see.”

Now she was even more confused. Simon didn’t sound surprised that her father had died, yet he didn’t know she’d moved back here—he thought the house was empty. What did he want? There was something she was missing in all this. Something she needed to get to the bottom of before she was led down yet another murky road with no map. Because the last year had been one long lesson: the moment her father died, all his complications became hers.

Marianna fumbled with the front door until it swung open. She took one last glance at the empty front yard. William wasn’t coming back, at least not today. She stepped inside, and Simon followed close behind.

He slowed to a halt inside the entry, his gaze wandering around the room. So he wouldn’t notice if she did a little staring of her own. She took in this new, adult version of the man who had shattered her fairy-tale vision of love. His skin was bronzed from the sun—it was summer right now in Australia, wasn’t it? His arm muscles filled out the sleeves of his T-shirt, defined even in their relaxed state. Larger now, but familiar. The same muscles that used to flex as he held himself over her. The memory flashed in front of her, sudden and visceral. She took a sharp breath, taming down the heat that rushed through her. It only took a few minutes with Simon for all those old feelings to flood back in. Oh, God it was so good with him back then.

And so, so over.

Back to the situation at hand: Why the hell had Simon shown up here today? Exes didn’t swoop in for a quick hello and then disappear. They came because they wanted something from her. William wasn’t the first to teach her that.

To be fair, most people wanted things from her, though these things tended to be much easier to assess—a contribution to a charity, an appearance to endorse an event, something like that. In her father’s eyes, this was an unavoidable by-product of wealth. She had accepted that. But exes were more insidious, less direct at first and more demanding as time passed. They knew how to get under her skin. But they also let their dicks distract them.

Which led right back to Simon, who was currently inspecting her front door.

“You need new locks,” he grumbled.

“I’m taking care of that,” she said. “I just haven’t figured out how to secure the front gate.”

She reached around him and locked the door. Then she looked up at Simon. He was staring at her hand, with a look in his eyes like he was a million miles away. Or maybe just eleven years. His gaze flicked up to hers, and the faraway look disappeared, replaced by that new, hard expression she didn’t recognize.

Simon steeled himself against the memories that walking into the Ruiz family house unleashed. Nothing had changed. Not the terra-cotta-tiled floor he had crossed, barefoot, on the way out of her bedroom. Not the warm yellow of the walls he had backed her up against when they were alone in the house. Not the hallway closet, where he had hidden when Alex Ruiz had come home unexpectedly in the middle of the day. Every room in the house held details from that one magical summer. But in this house, Simon was still just the son of poor Cuban refugees who would never get ahead. That wouldn’t change, either.

Except he wasn’t that boy anymore. He had enlisted, served and risen to the top. Specialized in search and retrieval. Stood out, even in a unit full of focused, dedicated men. And then made a shitload of money with those skills in the private sector, thanks to an opportunity in security with his good friend Cameron Blackmore.

Was that why he had parked his car in front of the Ruiz estate today? Just to remind himself how far he had come?

Marianna took a step back and headed into the house.

“Let’s go to the kitchen,” she said over her shoulder.

Simon followed her down the hall. Her hair swayed back and forth with each step. His gaze dropped lower, to the narrowing of her waist. The slope of her beautiful round ass. Years’ worth of late-night fantasies flooded his mind before he could stop them. Naked on her hands and knees. Under him.

No. Just turn it off.

But entering the kitchen did nothing for his self-control. It was the one room in this house he had tried his hardest to forget. The place where it all began. Marianna moved through the room, closing the dishwasher and taking glasses out of the cabinet as if oblivious to the history of this space. But when her back was turned, she stopped.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” she said. Her voice was even, as if she were talking about the weather.

He swallowed back the tide of emotions rising through him. “That was the plan.”

“And still you ended up in my driveway?”

There was no good way to explain why he had come to her place this morning. Probably because he hadn’t really figured it out, either. Was it just nostalgia? Standing in her kitchen felt like a lot more than that.

Marianna broke the silence, setting the glasses on the counter. She pulled a pitcher from the fridge. The light through the kitchen windows shone on the water, making it sparkle as she poured. She turned around and handed one of the glasses to Simon. And froze.

Was she remembering, too? One hot summer afternoon eleven years ago, she had offered a glass of water, and that had led to much, much more.

But this wasn’t the past.

“Thanks,” he said gruffly.

His fingers brushed against hers as he took the glass. Marianna’s cheeks blazed, and she looked away.

Simon rubbed his hand over his forehead and tried to focus. He needed to fix whatever trouble she was in and get out of this place. Real soon.

The argument outside had been about Ruiz Imports, something about the piers. Was she involved in something illegal? No. Impossible. When he lived in Miami, there’d been rumors about her father’s connections to the underground world of drugs and weapons, but Marianna would never get involved with something like that.

Simon ran his hand through his hair and looked at her. “What was William yelling about?”

A pause, then with a hint of sarcasm, she said, “He thought he was marrying a trophy wife. Someone without any interest in running a business. The last six years have been quite a disappointment for him.”

Simon frowned. “He sounded a little more specific than that.”

For a moment, her eyes flashed with fear. Had this guy threatened her before?

No. That’s not what you’re here for. He wasn’t going to get sucked into this place again, where everything came down to Marianna.

But he couldn’t walk out yet. It went against his training as well as his own instincts. Now he needed to figure out how to make sure that little scene in the front yard never, ever happened again. Today. And then get on a fucking plane tomorrow and never look back.

Simon took a deep breath. “Marianna, what exactly was William referring to when he mentioned the piers?”

Marianna huffed out a breath. “You can’t just wander back into my life and demand information.”

“I’m not demanding. I’m asking.”

She put her hands on her hips. “And why would I answer? Because you and I slept together years ago?”

Slept together? That was what she called those months together that bordered on obsession? Understatement of the year.

“Not because we slept together, Marianna,” he bit out. “Because I work in private security, and there are things I can do to help. You can trust me.”

Her brow wrinkled, and she tilted her head to the side a bit, as if she were assessing that comment. Didn’t she trust him? Maybe her father never told her the truth about how things had ended.

“You can trust me with your safety,” he amended, slowing at those last words.

The lines on her forehead eased, and after another moment, she nodded. With that nod, the aching tension in Simon’s shoulders eased a fraction.

He crossed his arms. “So what’s the story with the piers?”

“I went to look at one of our company’s shipments,” she said.

“Why?”

“Because I’m part-owner of the company,” she snapped.

Simon put up his hands. “Look, I’m just trying to understand what’s going on.”

Her shoulders rose and fell. “I... I wanted to get a better understanding of that part of the business.”

“Alone?”

Marianna rolled her eyes. “Don’t start with that, please.”

Simon grimaced. There was clearly more to this story, but she wasn’t giving it. And he couldn’t blame her. They were both teenagers the last time they’d seen each other, and things had ended badly. But all he needed was enough to assess her safety. So he waited.

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Look, my role with the company is more public-facing. I’m not as involved in the actual importing and exporting of the goods... I’m just not sure if William is being completely straightforward with me about some of the shipments we’re receiving, so I met with this guy at the piers to check some...” She hesitated. “Some inconsistencies.”

Shit. This didn’t sound good. Simon looked her in the eye. “You suspect Ruiz Imports deals with more than what’s on the books?”

Marianna didn’t answer. Which was just about the same as a yes.

He didn’t want to dig too deep, get too involved. They hardly knew each other anymore, but her silence pricked at him.

“If you don’t want to tell me what’s really going on here, that’s fine,” he said. “But be careful, Marianna. Seems like you’ve really pissed off your ex-husband. Whoever you’re meeting with—can you be sure you know he’s not part of whatever William’s pushing you away from?”

She blinked up at him. Clearly, she hadn’t even considered that possibility.

“He and my father were close,” she said slowly. “My father helped him out, and he owed our family everything. He’d never do anything that would hurt me.”

Simon raised his eyebrows.

“He wouldn’t, Simon,” she said, more firmly this time. She took a drink of water, giving him a glimpse at her long, delicate neck. What would it be like to run his fingers down her soft skin again? No. Focus.

He hardened his expression. “How do you know whatever suspicious dealings you’re hiding from me didn’t start with your father?”

Marianna choked on her water, midsip. She clanked her glass down hard on the countertop and coughed some more. Simon hovered behind her, and then he touched her, his warm hand moving up and down her back in soothing strokes. She took a couple tentative breaths, finding more air.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

His hand lingered for an extra beat before he pulled back. But he didn’t move away. He stood close, the way he used to, the way she had tried so hard to forget.

She frowned. Marianna tilted her chin up to face him.

“My father earned his money honestly,” she said, her voice icy calm. No. Simon was not coming back into her life to take away the one thing she still had left.

Simon said nothing, but his bitter words from years ago rang in her ears. No one with this kind of money has clean hands. He didn’t have to say it this time. He just stared at her with those deep green eyes. Those eyes with the long, beautiful lashes made it hard to think.