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Escape to Paradise
Pamela Yaye


Desperate to flee the breaking scandal swirling around her ex, event coordinator Claudia Jefferies flies to exotic Cabo San Lucas, Mexico.As if being pampered at an exclusive spa weren't enough, now a drop-dead-gorgeous man is showering her with attention! But Claudia's too smart to get seriously involved, especially with a heartbreaker like Santiago Medina. If only her heart would listen to her head….From the moment Santiago spots Claudia, he knows it's more than lust at first sight. And this man is used to getting what he wants. He'll wine and dine the stunning, soft-spoken Southerner with tropical nights of passion she'll never forget. But once Claudia finds out who Santiago really is, can he turn a fleeting island idyll into a passionate escape to love?







It’s the ultimate passionate getaway

Desperate to flee the breaking scandal swirling around her ex, event coordinator Claudia Jefferies flies to exotic Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. As if being pampered at an exclusive spa weren’t enough, now a drop-dead-gorgeous man is showering her with attention! But Claudia’s too smart to get seriously involved, especially with a heartbreaker like Santiago Medina. If only her heart would listen to her head....

From the moment Santiago spots Claudia, he knows it’s more than lust at first sight. And this man is used to getting what he wants. He’ll wine and dine the stunning, soft-spoken Southerner with tropical nights of passion she’ll never forget. But once Claudia finds out who Santiago really is, can he turn a fleeting island idyll into a passionate escape to love?


“A woman of your intelligence and beauty should not only be appreciated for her aesthetic qualities, but for the depth of her mind, as well.”

Sighing inwardly, she fought against the smile tickling the corners of her lips.

Santiago was more eloquent than an eighteenth-century poet, and his words were filled with such tender warmth that they resonated in her soul. It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her, and to her surprise, she believed every word. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything.” His eyes smiled, swept over her like the gentle breeze ruffling the curtains. “Call me whenever you need to talk or vent about how unfair life is. I’ve been there, and I know how important it is to have someone in your corner.”

Sparks flew when he clasped her hand.

“Thank you, Santiago. I just might take you up on that offer.”

“I hope you do….”

His mouth was less than an inch away—poised, ready, waiting.

Their lips crushed together. Moved hungrily over each other with the same urgency as their roving hands.

The kiss was ferocious.

Explosive.

So devastating she’d need weeks to recover from it.


Escape to Paradise

Pamela Yaye










www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Dear Reader,

Ever wish you could get away from it all? Your job, your family, the world spinning out of control around you? That’s exactly how Claudia Jeffries feels! When her ex-husband is arrested on eight counts of corporate fraud the same day their divorce is finalized, the media spotlight blares brightly on her. A confrontation with an enraged investor leaves Claudia shaken and scared and desperate to clear her name. Overwhelmed by all of the unwanted attention, Claudia decides to leave town until the story dies down. Goodbye, Richmond; Hello, Cabo San Lucas, Mexico! “Leave everything behind” is the slogan of the Sea of Cortez Resort, and when Claudia arrives at her secluded condo nestled among lush palm trees and tropical flowers, she feels the stress of the past month begin to melt away.

Santiago Medina can’t stop staring at the radiant, toffee-skinned beauty standing in the lobby of his family’s resort. He’s never been this drawn to anyone and, when he discovers it’s the same woman who shot him down in the luxury airport lounge hours earlier, he sets out to show the Southern beauty there’s more to him than meets the eye. Luckily for Claudia, Santiago doesn’t scare easily or believe in giving up without a fight....

Escape to Paradise is my tenth Kimani Romance novel, and in honor of its release, I will be running contests on my website all month long. To find out more about me and my novels, and enter to win a super-cool prize pack, visit me at www.pamelayaye.com.

With love,

Pamela Yaye


I can hardly believe that this is my tenth Kimani Romance novel.

It seems like just yesterday I sat down at the computer and started typing out the sexy love story running through my mind.

I feel so blessed, and fortunate to have such a wonderful, supportive family. You guys are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I adore every one of you. I love you Yaye’s and Odidison’s!!!

Sha-Shana (of Sha-Shana Crichton & Associates) I still remember the day you called and offered to represent me. I was big, and pregnant, but I jumped like ten feet in the air! Ha,ha I hope our future is filled with more contracts, proposals and a trip somewhere warm and tropical with men who look and smell like Santiago Medina!


Contents

Chapter 1 (#u249f1216-1245-54e8-a7df-294a3e336fc7)

Chapter 2 (#ue254ec42-165c-526e-9c85-b9452fe42885)

Chapter 3 (#u4ee85878-4d45-50e9-96eb-ce8a4b3a87db)

Chapter 4 (#uc5c05bb0-8434-5a98-8551-1c9161230a08)

Chapter 5 (#uaf18ec14-fa7d-5154-84f3-f812e74904a8)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter 1

I can’t believe I’m sneaking out of my own house, Claudia Jefferies thought, pitching her pink travel bag through the second-story window of her quaint brick home nestled in the heart of downtown Richmond. But what choice do I have? I either skip town until the story dies down or live in constant fear.

Before second thoughts set in, she gathered her courage and jumped. Claudia landed in the flower bed, but instantly sprang to her feet. And her sister said she needed to go on a diet! Humpf. If not for the soft cushion padding her stomach she would have broken her ribs.

Moving swiftly, she cleaned the dirt off her clothes, retrieved the bag and climbed over her neighbor’s fence. She had to hurry, or she was going to be late to meet Max. The sun crept over the horizon, turning the sky a pinkish-orange hue. Like her, the night was making a hasty retreat, falling to the shadows like the leaves sailing to the ground.

Feeling a chill in the autumn wind, Claudia pulled her cashmere scarf tightly across her shoulders. Cold singed her ears, reminding her of the drastic measures she’d taken last night to conceal her identity. Against the advice of her sister, she’d driven to a neighborhood dubbed the Devil’s Playground and found a small, out-of-the-way beauty salon. Once seated in the vinyl chair, she’d ordered the gum-popping stylist to “chop it all off and dye it black.” The young woman stared at her as if she’d just confessed to committing double murder. Surprise pinched her plump face, and her pierced tongue lay limp in her mouth.

“Is there a problem?” Claudia asked, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. Did the woman recognize her? Was that why she was copping an attitude?

“Don’t do this, ma’am. He’s not worth it.”

Now, Claudia was the one with wrinkled brows and puckered lips. The stylist wasn’t making any sense, and she was so loud she’d attracted the attention of the entire salon. “I don’t understand,” she whispered, hoping the woman would follow her lead and lower her voice. “Who’s not worth what?”

“Sisters storm in here every day demanding I chop their hair off, only to regret it when they reunite with their boyfriends a week later.”

“Well, I’m not one of them. I’d sooner become a lesbian than take my ex back.”

The stylist drew her fingers through Claudia’s lush brown locks. “Are you sure about this? Normally I wouldn’t dissuade a client from trying something new, but you have the kind of hair most women dream of! It’s long and thick and full of body.”

“I’m sure, and if you finish within the hour, I’ll give you a very generous tip.” Claudia patted her purse as if it was stuffed with hundred-dollar bills. “Please hurry, I’m in a rush.”

That was all it took.

Forty-five minutes later, Claudia sailed out of the beauty salon feeling like a younger, trendier version of her thirty-year-old self. Angled bangs fell dramatically across her right eye, thick layers kissed the tips of her ears and the sleek, black hue gave her a bold, bad-girl edge.

Touching her fingertips to the nape of her neck, Claudia wondered if she’d ever get used to the chic, no-fuss do. Unrecognizable now, she loved the anonymity that her new look provided and planned to use it to her advantage. That was why she was making a run for it while she still had the chance.

With fast, quick steps, she hustled down the alley, toward the city center. Another block and she’d be in the clear, home free. But instead of shooting across the intersection, she paused at the top of her street.

Reporters, clutching coffee cups and microphones, were camped out on her lawn like a bunch of well-dressed vultures. They were peering into her windows and trampling through her garden to set up camera equipment. Spotting her favorite reporter—a woman who took on only the meatiest news stories—reminded Claudia of just how serious the situation was. Anger welled up inside her, but she swallowed hard and gathered herself. Claudia never imagined that she’d be the lead story on the evening news, and as she considered the events of the last two weeks she cursed the day she’d laid eyes on William Prescott III.

Shivering like a naked woman sleeping on a park bench, Claudia stuck her hands into her pockets and resumed walking, her thoughts on the man she’d been married to for the better part of a decade. Disgust churned in her stomach at the thought of her heartless ex-husband.

The night they met played in Claudia’s mind like a movie on the big screen. When William Prescott, CEO of the largest investment firm in the South, approached her at a bar mitzvah she’d been hired to plan, Claudia wasn’t sure what to make of him. The suave, brown-eyed businessman had a reputation with the ladies, and after he introduced himself she could see why. He was forward, the type of guy who wouldn’t take no for an answer, and although he was too aggressive for her tastes, she admired his self-confidence. He was ten years her senior, but after dating a string of immature boys, she welcomed being with a strong, take-charge man. Dating a man of William’s stature opened doors for her, and when they married after a brief, whirlwind courtship, the city’s elite had come calling.

Her event-planning business, Signature Party Planners, took off like a rocket, netting six-figure profits that year, but her life was far from perfect.

Shaking off bitter memories, she turned onto Atwell Avenue. Anxious to put more distance between herself and the media hounds, Claudia hustled across the street as if her life depended on it. And it did. The sooner she got out of Richmond the better.

A black Honda Civic with personalized plates was idling at the curb. Her heart pounded, beating strong and fast. Approaching the car, she glanced cautiously over her shoulder. Claudia didn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean no one was watching. Opening the back door, she slipped inside and dropped her bags at her feet.

“You weren’t kidding about wanting a drastic change,” Maxine said, turning around to face her. “I almost didn’t recognize you! Cutting your hair short was a good move, sis.”

“Let’s get going. I don’t want to attract any attention.”

A scowl pinched her scarlet-red lips. Ghetto chic, and proud of it, her older sister could give an exotic dancer half her age a serious run for her money. “This is not a shuttle service and I’m certainly not a cabbie, so get up front.”

“Just drive. I’ll explain later.”

“I don’t even know where we’re going.”

“The airport.”

“The airport!” she yelled, her eyes shooting out of her head. “Where are you going?”

“I’m not sure yet. I just need to get out of town.” Peering outside the window, she clicked on her seat belt and slid down in her seat. “Someone might be tailing us, so be on guard. Reporters are very crafty, and they’ll do just about anything to get a story.”

“You’ve been watching too much TMZ!” Laughing, Maxine put the car in Drive and joined the light, early-morning traffic. “Are the reporters still camped outside of your house?”

“There were more pulling up as I left.”

“Keep your chin up, sis. I know the last few weeks have been tough, but hang in there.”

“‘Tough’ is an understatement. Since the arrest my life has become a living hell.”

“Oh, come on. Things aren’t that bad.”

“You’re right. They’re worse.” To keep from having another breakdown, Claudia slowly drew air in and out of her lungs.

How could something like this happen to someone like me? she wondered, fighting back tears. She’d done everything the right way. Gone to university. Graduated with honors. Worked tirelessly to build her event-planning business. But it was her desire to have a family of her own that had been her downfall. And so she’d overlooked William’s selfish ways and stayed in the marriage as long as she did. “I woke up this morning thinking the last few days were a bad dream, but then the phone started ringing and I remembered how many lives William destroyed, how many people he’s hurt.”

“Is that why you called and asked me to meet you here?”

Afraid she’d dissolve into tears if she spoke, she nodded in response.

“The story will die down before you know it.” Maxine watched her kid sister in the rearview mirror. “You’ve been through far worse and survived, so try not to stress.”

Claudia drew strength from her sister’s words. She’d come a long way, overcome insurmountable odds. It was a miracle she’d made it out of Lynchburg’s eight-block housing project in one piece, but despite all the hard times, she knew growing up in the hood had made her who she was today—a tough, hard-nosed woman who wasn’t afraid to fight.

If that’s true, her conscience challenged, then why are you running away?

Because what happened last night terrified me.

“I thought I was strong enough to handle all of the media attention,” she began, shuddering at the thought of what had taken place twenty-four hours earlier, “but it’s become too much. The prank calls, the cruel stares I get whenever I’m out in public.”

“The chatter will die down before you know it.”

Claudia wasn’t so confident. Not after everything that had happened since her ex-husband’s arrest. Her mind slipped back to two weeks earlier, to the day her peaceful, uneventful life took a turn for the worst. She woke up that morning with a smile on her face, a song in her heart and a reason to celebrate. Finally, after months of William’s bitching and complaining, their divorce was final. He was gone, out of her life forever.

Or so she thought.

Shaking her head, she remembered the exact moment her world came crashing down around her. The phone rang, and a husky voice on the other end asked her to comment on William’s arrest. Claudia hung up the phone. It had to be a prank call. A bunch of bored suburban kids who had nothing better to do than play phone games. But the calls kept coming. The Wall Street Journal. Newsday. Her friends and associates. It seemed everyone knew the details of the case except her.

Their questions were harsh, probing. And filled in the missing pieces of the puzzle. Her ex-husband and three of his business partners had been indicted on eight counts of corporate fraud. Logging on to the computer confirmed it, and the pounding in her head—that started seconds after the first phone call—quickly infected the rest of her body. The whole city was talking about the collapse of Qwest Capital Investments, and Claudia couldn’t turn on the television without seeing another interview with a teary, shell-shocked investor. Her heart went out to each and every one of them, from the retired naval officer to the school superintendent.

Claudia didn’t know what to believe, and everything she read bordered on lunacy. She was stunned by the arrest, absolutely blindsided by it. William was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a crook, was he? The question ran through her mind again when the two plainclothes detectives arrived later that day to interview her.

Or rather, to interrogate her.

They questioned her about William’s business dealings and eyed her suspiciously when she didn’t give them the answers they were looking for. Then, after an hour in the hot seat, they accused her of being his accomplice. Burning with indignation, she vehemently denied the accusation. The detectives were convinced she was lying and threatened to haul her down to the precinct for further questioning. Images of being handcuffed, booked and fingerprinted attacked her mind. What would her clients think if she was named as a coconspirator in the case? And how would it affect her company? When it was all said and done, would she even have a business to worry about?

Claudia cleared all thoughts of her ex-husband and his troubles from her mind. Like she’d told the two detectives who’d interviewed her, William wasn’t her problem anymore, and she had better things to do than waste time pondering his guilt or innocence.

“How long will you be gone?”

“I’m not sure. A month. Maybe longer. It all depends on how things play out. I was thinking of going to Lynchburg to see Aunt Hattie, but I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“But the last time you went down there you vowed to never go back.”

“I know, but I’m desperate,” she admitted. “I haven’t done anything wrong, but I’m being made out to be the bad guy. You’d think I was the one who embezzled two million dollars from Qwest Capital Investments.”

“The only reason the media’s taken an interest in you is because you’re the beautiful, much-younger trophy wife.” Maxine shrugged and offered a sympathetic smile. “Your rags-to-riches story makes for good TV, and it will probably sell a ton of newspapers, too.”

Thinking about the state of her event-planning business made Claudia’s hopes crumble and her shoulders sag in despair. “I’ve lost three jobs in one week.”

“You’re planning the mayor’s luncheon, and that’s bound to be great for business.”

Claudia cleared her throat. “Someone called yesterday from his office and said my services were no longer needed.”

“I don’t understand why you’re being punished for something William did. He’s the one who stole from his investors, not you.”

The tears Claudia had been holding in finally broke free. “I feel terrible about what he’s done,” she confessed, covering her face with her hands, “and I can’t help feeling responsible. I was his wife. I should have known what he was doing, I should have stopped him.”

The car jerked forward violently when Maxine slammed on the brakes.

“Don’t you dare blame yourself for what he did,” she scolded, twisting around in her seat like a human pretzel. “William ruined those people’s lives, not you. You were surprised by his arrest, just like the rest of us.”

“I wish there was something I could do to help his victims.” Sniffling, Claudia cleaned her mascara-stained cheeks with her fingertips. “If my accounts weren’t frozen I’d—”

Maxine gasped. “The banks froze your accounts? They can’t do that!”

“They can if there’s a court order. The Securities and Exchange Commission filed a request with the court on Monday, and there was nothing my lawyer could do to stop it.”

“I don’t understand why the authorities are pursuing you. You’re innocent.”

“The investigators are convinced I was in on it, and since we were married for ten years and only recently divorced, they argued for additional time to substantiate their case against me.” Hearing herself repeat her attorney’s words made the situation more real, made her realize that things were going to get a whole lot worse before they got better. And that brought a fresh batch of tears. “Mr. Tibbs said I’ll probably be subpoenaed to testify in William’s case.”

“I can’t believe these people. Next thing you know they’ll be fitting you with an ankle bracelet and confiscating your passport.”

“They tried, but the judge refused.” Claudia forced a smile. “It’s a small victory. At least I’m free to come and go as I please without fear of being hunted down.”

“If you need anything, just ask. Money’s been tight ever since Royce lost his job, but I don’t mind dipping into my savings to help you out.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that. You’re pregnant.”

“I know, but it’s the least I could do. I was the one who encouraged you to date William and look how things turned out.” Maxine made a clicking sound with her teeth. “If I had known he was a lying scoundrel, I never would have advised you to marry him.”

“That’s in the past. I’ve moved on, and despite everything that’s going on right now I’m in a really good place.” Claudia tugged on her cap, pulling it down so low it covered her eyebrows. Okay, so she was lying, but she didn’t want Max to feel guilty about something that wasn’t her fault. William was her past, and as of last Thursday they were officially done. That painful chapter of her life was over and she was determined to move on.

To escape the thoughts crowding her mind—thoughts of losing her house, her business and her sanity—Claudia shut her eyes and leaned back in her seat. “I wish I could disappear. Just go somewhere where nobody knows my name.”

“Oh, that’s right, they don’t have TVs or newspapers in Lynchburg,” Maxine quipped, her tone ripe with sarcasm. “You know how much Aunt Hattie likes to talk. The whole town will know you’re coming before your plane touches down!”

They drove in silence for a moment, and then Maxine let out an ear-piercing shriek. It was so deafening Claudia was surprised the windows didn’t shatter into a million pieces.

“You should go to Cabo San Lucas!”

“I can hardly afford the plane ticket to Lynchburg, let alone to Mexico.”

Weaving in and out of traffic like a NASCAR driver going for broke, Maxine took the exit marked Departures, zoomed up the ramp and flew into the first available parking space. “Royce and I had such a great time there during our honeymoon that we purchased time shares. It’s a good thing we did when the market was strong, because we could never afford it now.”

Claudia screwed her face into a frown. “I don’t want to go to a resort that’s packed with kids and rude tourists. I need to rest, clear my head.”

“And you think you can relax in Lynchburg? I love Aunt Hattie but she yaks nonstop. You’d get more peace and quiet staying at an amusement park!”

A giggle tickled the back of Claudia’s throat. It didn’t matter how bad she felt, Max could always make her laugh. “Don’t bad-mouth Aunt Hattie. She’s the only family we’ve got left.”

“Then we’re in really bad shape!”

Claudia didn’t laugh, but Maxine did. Her laugh was smooth, easy, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. And she didn’t. Despite her present financial woes, she had a husband who loved her, a home in a gated community and not a single reporter camped outside her house.

“Picture it,” she said, spreading her hands out in front of her. “You stretched out on a beach, sipping cocktails under the hot Mexican sun, and being served fresh fruit by an Antonio Banderas look-alike with rock-hard abs and a tight ass!”

“That’s no way for a pregnant woman to talk.”

“Girl, please, I’m only a few months along. The babies can’t hear anything!”

Claudia shook her head at her sister.

“Go to Cabo and enjoy yourself,” Maxine instructed. “I promise you won’t be sorry.”

Famous for its breathtaking waterfalls and endless blue skies, Cabo San Lucas was reputed to be one of the most beautiful peninsulas on earth and a place Claudia had always wanted to see. But her furious work schedule left few hours to sleep, let alone travel to faraway lands.

“The Sea of Cortez Resort is world-class all the way. I damn near fainted when Royce carried me into our oceanfront suite. And who knows,” she said with a devilish smirk, “maybe you’ll meet someone while you’re down there. A night of passion with a sexy tourist is exactly what your sex-deprived ass needs.”

“I’d rather swim in shark-infested waters than indulge in a seedy holiday fling. After everything I’ve been through, the last thing I want is to get caught up with another no-good man.”

“There are still some good guys out there, and it’s high time you met somebody new.”

“My divorce was only finalized two weeks ago.”

“Yeah, but you’ve been legally separated for a year,” Maxine challenged, her tone accusatory. “I don’t know how you’ve gone that long without having sex. I need a man to keep me warm at night, or I’ll go insane!”

Claudia shrugged, conveying how little she cared about having a man in her bed. Since they were teens, her sister had treated dating like an amateur sport and, if not for getting knocked up by her boyfriend-turned-husband four months ago, she’d still be racking up numbers in her little black book. “Maybe I should go down to Cabo for a few weeks.”

“Of course you should!” Maxine nodded her head fervently, as if she was praising a small child. “The suite is in my name, but if you show two forms of ID you should be fine.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

Her smile was sly. “Then flash some skin! That always works for me!”

“Could you be serious for one moment? I don’t want to fly all the way down to this resort only to be turned away.” Annoyed that her sister was making light of her being stranded, she decided to stick to her original plan. “Forget it. I’m going to Lynchburg. I don’t need any more stress, and I could see this whole Cabo thing blowing up in my face.”

“I’ll call the resort to let them know that you’re coming. How’s that?”

Maxine put the car in Park and hopped out. “I can’t wait to hear what you think of the suite, so give me a ring as soon as you get settled.”

Claudia didn’t know why, but getting out of the car took enormous effort. The strain of the last two weeks had finally caught up to her, and when she stood up she had to grip the door to keep from falling. Her travel bag felt heavy, as if someone had snuck twenty-pound weights inside, but she tossed it over her shoulder and smiled. “Thanks for everything, Max.”

“Have a safe trip and try not to worry about all the craziness that’s going on down here.” Maxine hugged her tight. “You’ve done nothing wrong, so stop persecuting yourself.”

Claudia nodded, told herself that her sister was right, but that didn’t stop her from feeling like a fugitive. And when she boarded the United plane bound for Washington, D.C., and saw her ex-husband’s picture on the front of the Richmond Times-Dispatch newspaper, her fears of being arrested and traipsed in front of the news media returned with a vengeance.


Chapter 2

Santiago Medina didn’t make it a habit to stare. Or to approach strangers at the airport, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the woman who had just entered the Dulles International Airport first-class lounge. He loved long hair, but her short, trendy hairstyle was stunning. And so were her almond-shaped eyes. They were so bright, so luminous, it was impossible for him to look away. She had to be a dancer, a performer, someone who made a living thrilling audiences on a Las Vegas stage. No way she was stuck behind a desk working a regular nine-to-five. Not with that radiant butterscotch skin, that oval face and those pretty, luscious lips.

His mouth dried, but Santiago doubted that water could quench his thirst. Ridiculously beautiful, she had a unique, ethereal look that made her stand out in the thick crowd of commuters. Her face was free of makeup, scrubbed clean, but her beauty was undeniable. He wanted to touch her. And not just because she had the slender shape of a ballerina and legs that stretched on for miles. He’d always been able to see with his heart what others couldn’t see with their eyes, and he sensed that this woman was in enormous pain. Sadness seeped from her pores. It enveloped her, hovered like a ghost. Her grief was palpable, real, so heavy the entire luxury lounge was cloaked in it.

The overhead lights flickered, and for a moment Santiago feared the power would go out. He glanced outside the window and released a heavy sigh. Rain shot down from somber gray clouds, and lightning bathed the sky in a blinding white hue. Thunder boomed, crashed, roared like a train flying down the tracks. His flight to Cabo San Lucas had been delayed—twice—and if the weather advisory for D.C. was lifted in the next twenty-four hours he’d consider it a divine act of God.

Leaning back in his seat, he cleared his mind of all stress, of all worries. He was anxious to see his family, but he couldn’t help wondering if the brutal weather was a sign of things to come. Were stormy days ahead? His mother was booked to have abdominal surgery at the end of the month and she would be out of commission for weeks. His workaholic father would rather travel the country brokering new deals than help manage the resort. It was up to him to oversee the renovation project, and he was already dreading every minute of it.

Santiago calculated the number of hours he’d spent waiting at Dulles International Airport and strangled a groan of frustration. He was stranded, but at least he was comfortable. The spacious first-class lounge had all the comforts of home—semireclining chairs, plush oversize couches, and a restaurant that carried everything from crab salad to Peking duck.

He picked up the Newsweek magazine lying on the glass table and started to read. Two sentences in, his gaze strayed back across the room. He guessed that she was in her midtwenties, but from ten feet away it was hard to know for sure. She looked wounded, broken, but she walked into the lounge with unparalleled grace. She moved with poise, confidence, the elegance of an Oscar-winning actress. And when she sat down in his line of vision, only a few rows away from him, he caught a whiff of her fragrant perfume.

Santiago watched her on the sly. Filled with compassion, he wondered why she looked so sad, why she had such a heavy heart. Was she flying home to care for an ailing relative? Or to attend the funeral of a close, dear friend?

Santiago saw a slim man slide up to her. The woman frowned, said a few words he couldn’t make out, and resumed staring out the window. Shoulders hunched in defeat, the stranger slunk off alone toward the bar. A second later another guy showed up. He was a dead ringer for 50 Cent, and his jeans were so low he was waddling like a pregnant woman in her last trimester. This time, the woman didn’t even turn around. Off the guy went with his tail between his legs. On and on it went until Santiago lost count of her suitors.

Amused, he watched as the woman dissed and dismissed every man who approached her. What was the matter with these guys? Couldn’t they see that she was upset? She needed a friend, someone to tell her that God was bigger than her problems. And he was just the man to do it.

Tossing down the magazine, he straightened his shoulders and adjusted his clothes. Opening his carry-on bag, he fished out his favorite cologne and sprayed some on his shirt collar. Just because I can’t take a shower doesn’t mean I can’t smell nice. He started his workday as early as six o’clock, sometimes earlier. Before most people got out of bed he had already showered, changed and reviewed the morning’s agenda. Being a freelance business consultant was a taxing job, filled with enormous stress and long hours, but he derived great pleasure from fixing companies on the brink of financial ruin. And his six-figure fee wasn’t chump change.

Santiago stood, but didn’t make any moves toward her. Second thoughts set in, pelting him in the back like rocks. You saw what she did to those other guys, his conscience jeered. What makes you think she won’t humiliate you, too? He shrugged off his doubts. There was nothing to fear. After all, he wasn’t trying to make a love connection. His motives were pure; his desire was to help, to reach out. Two years ago he’d been entrenched in the depths of grief, so consumed with pain he was convinced he’d die of a broken heart. But then he’d had the good fortune of meeting Father Francis, and the Catholic priest had helped restore his faith. That was why he had to reach out to her. It’s my Christian duty, he told himself, forcing his eyes away from her sinful curves.

Wallet in hand, he strode purposely through the private seating area and joined the line for the snack bar. As Santiago placed his order and then collected the food, he was attacked by a severe case of self-doubt. His limbs felt weak, like they were coated in papier-mâché. He couldn’t remember ever being this nervous. Not even when— Santiago steeled himself against those painful memories. He wasn’t going there. Not today. He had to move forward, had to keep living. He planned to tell this to the beautiful young woman staring aimlessly out the window. He’d lived through a devastating tragedy, but he was still here. He was still standing.

His confidence came roaring back. I can do this, he told himself. It’s no big deal. But when she glanced his way and their eyes met, Santiago knew his mission was in jeopardy before it had even begun.



Half-dead with exhaustion, Claudia dropped into her seat hungry, tired and shivering with cold. The turbulence on the United flight was so severe, she could hardly think, let alone sleep, and although the Boeing 747 had landed safely at Dulles International Airport, she’d stumbled off the plane feeling more stressed out than ever.

Her stomach grumbled, rumbled like the thunder wreaking havoc outside, but Claudia didn’t even consider getting up from her plush chair. Sleep first, food second. Crossing her legs, she nestled her chin inside her sweater and closed her eyes. The darkness provided a reprieve, a much-needed break from her thoughts.

Her mind cleared.

Her breathing slowed.

Her limbs relaxed.

Imagining herself on a white sandy beach, stretched out on a comfy lounge chair, brought an indulgent smile to Claudia’s lips. Sunshine rained down from the sky, the wind carried the scent of calla lilies and she could hear the waves lapping softly against—

“It’s over. The company’s finished.”

“You think so?”

“Hell yeah! And the CEO and his bandits are to blame. Damn crooks.”

Claudia’s eyes flapped open. Her daydream came to a screeching halt, and fear shot through her veins. It was hard to breathe. No, impossible. The men sitting behind her in the first-class lounge were discussing the collapse of Qwest Capital Investments. The news of William’s arrest had reached Washington? Of course it had! her inner voice screamed. The Dow plunged the day her ex was indicted and, according to published reports, the company had lost millions.

“The wife’s definitely in cahoots with him.”

“Not necessarily. Sometimes the spouse is the last to know.”

“If you believe that,” the man with the gruff voice said, “then you’re even dumber than that greasy-haired kid on Jersey Shore!”

A blast of laughter, and then he resumed speaking. “Claudia Prescott is a scheming liar just like her husband, and I hope they both get a lengthy prison sentence. I say lock ’em up and throw away the key!”

Claudia’s eyes burned and her nose itched. She coughed, ran a hand over her chest to alleviate the burning. It felt like someone had poured Russian vodka down her throat, and the more she swallowed the stronger it burned. Their words cut with the precision of a blade, sliced so deep she’d never be whole again. Stealing went against everything she’d been taught, and although Claudia didn’t know the two men, for some crazy reason she cared what they thought.

“The Prescotts used investors’ money to fund their extravagant lifestyle. They have luxury cars, residential properties and even a three-hundred-foot yacht. Can you believe that? Their victims are penniless, left with nothing but crippling debt, and they’re living the good life.”

Claudia dug her fingernails into her armrest. She didn’t dare turn around, didn’t dare open her mouth to defend herself. Let them talk. They didn’t know about her charity work, or the community projects she’d donated her time to. She was innocent, and that was all that mattered. Then why do I feel like curling into a ball and sobbing into my travel pillow?

Overcome by a strong, distinct scent, Claudia shot up straight in her chair. Terror struck, causing fear to ricochet off the walls of her chest. It couldn’t be… He couldn’t be here in the first-class lounge, could he? Circa 1840 wasn’t just any cologne. The scarcity of the ingredients and the six-month fermentation process made it the most unique fragrance in the world. And, at a thousand dollars a bottle, the most expensive. Her ex-husband wore it because he liked flaunting his wealth. And obviously someone else in the first-class lounge did, too.

“How are you today?”

Claudia blinked and turned toward the man with the rich, deep voice. His tone was soft, as smooth as honey. She narrowed her eyes and hit him with a leave-me-the-hell-alone look. He didn’t budge. Instead of making himself scarce, he extended his hand, offering a white cup brimming with whipped cream.

“You look like you could use a warm drink. How about a cup of hot chocolate?”

“No, thanks.”

“Please, take it. I insist.”

Stepping forward, he rested the drink on the table beside her. His scent drifted over her, hitting her square in the nose. Her stomach heaved, pitched from left to right, coiled in a knot so tight she couldn’t swallow.

“I’m Santiago.”

“Good for you.”

“I brought lunch.” He held up a clear plastic bag. “I hope soup, sandwiches and chocolate brownies are okay.”

“Do I know you?”

“Not yet. I’ve been here for hours, and if I keep playing solitaire on my iPhone I’ll go crazy,” he confessed, sporting a grin that revealed straight, white teeth. “To pass the time I thought we could talk.”

Claudia rolled her eyes. What was the matter with these guys? This was the fifth one to hit on her since she’d arrived at the lounge. Only this man in the tan sports coat, white button-down shirt and dark slacks was dreamy. Gorgeous, actually. A Hollywood casting director’s dream client. He had a full head of short, wavy black hair, grayish-brown eyes that twinkled with mirth and a smile as blinding as a solar eclipse. Over six feet of lean, muscular man and not a gold tooth in sight. Certainly a step up from the gangster who’d swaggered over earlier. “Look, I’m sure you’re a nice guy, but I’m just not interested. I don’t want to get to know you better or hook up the next time I’m in town, either. I just want to be left alone. Got it?”

“We’ll have lunch together, and then I’ll be on my way.”

“I’m not hungry.” As the lie fell off her lips, her stomach erupted in protest, howling louder than a band of coyotes. If she didn’t eat soon, lounge security would be peeling her up off the floor, and the last thing Claudia wanted was more public humiliation. She was starving, but she didn’t want to break bread with this immaculately groomed pretty boy with polished shoes. “I don’t have much of an appetite.”

Another howl, but this one was accompanied by a sharp hunger pang.

“You’re not going to let a nice guy like me eat all alone, are you?”

Coughing to disguise the rumblings in her belly, she opened her wallet and fished out a twenty-dollar bill. “Fine, but I insist on paying you for the food. Will this cover it?”

“Miss, please put away your money. Buying you lunch is my pleasure.”

Before Claudia knew what was happening, he sat down and rested the plastic bag on the table between them. A savory aroma filled the air. Growing hungrier with each passing second, she licked the dryness from her lips and accepted the container he graciously offered.

“When I flew in this morning the skies were clear and blue, but now the rain is giving the city a beating,” he said, settling comfortably in the chair beside her. “I hope the weather advisory lifts soon. This is a nice lounge, but I don’t want to sleep here!”

He chuckled, but Claudia didn’t join in his laughter. She concentrated on eating her minestrone soup. Spooning baby carrots into her mouth, she pretended not to notice him watching her. His eyes were laser beams, piercing her flesh and heightening her fear. Something about him was gnawing at her. It was…his cologne. “Are you wearing Circa 1840?”

His eyebrows fused together. “Wow, you really know your colognes.”

“My ex wore it for years. It’s a nice fragrance, but I think it’s way too expensive.”

“Do you think there’s something wrong with people enjoying the fruits of their wealth?”

“Not if it’s earned by honest means, but most millionaires make it rich by exploiting others.” Claudia paused, thought a moment and said, “The cost of one bottle could feed a hundred people in my city Thanksgiving dinner, and I think providing the basic necessities of life is far more important than smelling good.”

He didn’t respond, just nodded and leaned back in his seat.

“I’m sorry,” she said, with a small shrug of her shoulders. “I didn’t mean to lay a guilt trip on you. What you choose to do with your money is none of my business.”

“No harm done. We’re just talking, right?”

Still hungry, she reached into the bag and unwrapped one of the sandwiches. She took a bite and sighed in contentment. Claudia didn’t bother to hide her pleasure. Loaded with vegetables and barbeque sauce, the sandwich was delicious and tasted even better than it looked.

“Now that we’re friends, I think it’s only fair that you tell me your name.”

To buy herself some time, she picked up the hot chocolate and tasted it. This Santiago guy isn’t half bad, she thought, as the hot, creamy liquid warmed her body. He was generous, outgoing and seriously cute. Back in the day Claudia would have given him her number, but now she knew better. Knew that no matter how nice a guy seemed he was still just a man. Someone capable of breaking her heart, and killing her hopes and dreams.

“I’m still waiting for that name…”

“It’s Claudia.”

“A lovely name for a lovely lady.” A smile pinched his cheeks, and a set of dimples emerged. “What part of Mexico are you going to?”

“What makes you think I’m going to Mexico?”

He pointed at her purse, and Claudia followed the route of his gaze. The travel book she’d purchased at the terminal’s bookstore was peeking out from behind her makeup case.

“I was born and raised there, so if you have any questions just ask.”

Claudia cleaned her mouth with a napkin. She wanted to tell him to get lost, wanted to send him on his way, but she didn’t. How could she when he’d brought her such a tasty lunch? They were stuck in the airport, marooned until the storm passed, so why not use the time chatting with this sexy Latino guy about Cabo San Lucas?


Chapter 3

Santiago cursed under his breath.

The men sitting behind him were talking so loud he couldn’t hear what Claudia was saying. He thought of telling Beavis and Butthead to shut up, but he didn’t want her to think he was rude. Keeping his frustration in check was harder than riding a mechanical bull on quicksand, and when the pair erupted in boisterous laughter, drowning out Claudia’s melodious voice, he almost snatched them both up by the collar. How was he supposed to get to know the Southern beauty with these two clowns guffawing every five seconds?

Glad she was finally starting to relax, he carefully studied her appearance. The short, bouncy hair, that shapely body clad in pink-trimmed workout gear. Claudia was the kind of woman his friend Chaz Romero would call a dime piece. Claudia wasn’t a nine or a ten, she was a twenty. He’d dated some in his life, and had even been in love a time or two, but he’d never been this drawn to a female, never been so enamored with anyone. “Does everything taste okay?” Santiago saw the deep frown on her face, and worried he’d bought the wrong thing. “I can run and grab you something else if you’d like.”

“This sandwich is delicious, but I can’t believe it cost fifteen dollars,” she said, staring at the red price sticker on the wrapper. “That’s really expensive for a chicken-turkey club.”

She spoke so softly, so quietly, it was impossible to hear her over the noise. Santiago leaned forward in his chair. Her accent was subtle, distinctly Southern, and rich with femininity.

“If my sister hadn’t given me her Priority Pass I wouldn’t have even known this lounge existed. I can’t believe the daily rate is a hundred dollars. That’s highway robbery!”

“You’re right, but it’s great having somewhere quiet to go to when the airport’s packed and you have an extended layover,” he said, inclining his head toward her. “And they make the best steak subs here. I’ve already had three!”

His iPhone rang. Offering an apologetic smile, he slipped a hand into his shirt pocket and hit the End button. He’d bet it was the same woman who’d called an hour ago. The stick-thin cosmetics heiress his mother was trying to set him up with. No way, no thanks. If he ever decided to settle down he’d do the choosing. Not his matchmaking mom.

“Aren’t you going to answer your phone?”

“They’ll call back.”

“Won’t your wife worry if you don’t pick up?”

Santiago displayed his left hand. “I’ve happily single.”

“Sure you are.” Her laugh carried a hard, bitter edge. “That’s what they all say.”

“Are you meeting up with someone in Mexico?” He found her eyes, saw how the edges darkened, and tried to reach her with his smile. “Or are you traveling solo?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

He shrugged. “I’m just curious.”

“Curious is a polite word for ‘nosy.’”

Santiago chuckled. So much for her being shy. She’s as feisty as a caged lioness! “My mother is a very social person, and I guess I inherited that trait from her.” At the thought of his mother a grin pinched his lips. She was dying for him to get married, anxious to begin spoiling her first grandchild, but he wasn’t in the market for a bride and that wasn’t going to change any time soon. “Excuse me for being so forward. I mean no harm.”

“I don’t know anyone there. I’m on my own.”

He waited, expected her to say more, but she didn’t. “You’re going to love Cancun,” he began, fishing for information. “There’s tons to see and do, and they have some great nightclubs.”

“I’m not going to Cancun. I’m—” She started and stopped twice, then released a long, deep sigh. It was if breathing was too much for her, a boring, arduous task that she’d rather not do. Finally, after what seemed like an hour, she said, “I’m going to Cabo San Lucas.”

His ears perked up. “What a coincidence. So am I.”

Claudia said nothing, just put a hand to her hair and ran her fingers through her bangs.

“If we ever leave this airport and make it down there I’d love to see you again. Maybe we could go out for coffee.” Santiago smiled. “Or would you prefer hot chocolate?”

“I won’t have time.”

Reaching into his attaché case, he retrieved one of his business cards and offered it to her. “If you change your mind or need someone to show you around, give me a call.”

Claudia stared at the card as if it was covered in germs. “My week is pretty full.”

“I understand.”

When she turned away, he eased forward in his chair and dropped it into her purse.

“Do you know much about the resorts in the Tourist Corridor?” she asked, her voice low and filled with hesitation. “I don’t care about the bars or restaurants in the area. I just want to be somewhere safe. And quiet.”

A grin claimed his lips. She was staying in the heart of the city? What a stroke of good fortune! He thought of asking the name of her hotel, but didn’t want to be accused of being nosy again. “You’ll be perfectly safe in and around the peninsula. Because of the surge in celebrity tourists over the last few years, the police have upped their presence in the area.”

“Can’t afford to let anything happen to the rich and famous, huh?”

Santiago frowned. There was that edge in her voice again. I wonder what that’s all about? “Tourism is big business in Mexico, and in these hard economic times, every dollar spent in the country counts.” He studied her for a moment, trying to make all the pieces of the puzzle fit. “I’m surprised you’re not interested in checking out some of the clubs.”

A scowl pinched her lips. “Why? Do I look like the kind of woman who enjoys dancing on tables and stumbling around drunk?”

“No, but you look like a dancer, and all of the ones I know love a good party.”

“I haven’t danced in years. And,” she stressed, “pirouettes aren’t exactly a crowd-pleaser.” Claudia crossed her legs, shifted around in her seat as if she was sitting on a cold, hard cinder block rather than on a plush chair. “Did you study dance, too?”

Santiago cracked up, but when he thought about all those sweltering afternoons he’d spent in that airless dance studio, his laughter fizzled. He’d never see Marisol dance again, never hear the excitement in her voice when she spoke about her passion for the arts. She was gone, forever, and he was to blame. Memories of that fateful night weighed on his chest like a slab of steel, making every breath a fight, a struggle.

“Karate was more my speed, but my younger sister studied ballet for years.” He tasted sadness in his mouth, and swallowed hard to wash it away. “Did you ever consider making a career out of it or auditioning for Julliard?”

Her eyebrows rose. “You’re very knowledgeable about ballet.”

“And you’re skilled at evading questions.”

A smile caressed her lips, but it was gone so fast Santiago was sure he’d imagined it. He watched her pick up her cup of hot chocolate. Why was she shaking? Was she cold, scared or both? “It might help to talk about it,” he said quietly.

Hot chocolate sloshed onto the table when Claudia slapped down her cup and surged to her feet. She was breathing hard, fast, as if she’d just finished sprinting up a flight of stairs.

“Where are you going?”

Claudia tossed her things into her travel bag and yanked violently on the zipper.

“They haven’t made any boarding announcements yet.” Angry at himself for scaring her off, he rose from his seat and offered a sincere, heartfelt apology. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Claudia. Please stay and finish your food.”

“I’m done, now if you’ll excuse me—”

Santiago did the unthinkable. He rested a hand on her arm and gave a light squeeze. Her flesh was warm, supple, and her fragrance wrapped itself around him like a wisteria vine.

Time crawled to a stop.

Their gazes locked, and for a half second Santiago forgot where he was. Her eyes drew him in, seduced him as surely as Eve and that shiny red apple. He could almost see the energy pulsing between them, could almost smell the perfume of her desire. It was so crippling he felt like he’d been struck by lightning. Lust barreled through him, rooted his hands to her arms and his feet to the ground. Unable to move, he waited for the temporary paralysis to lift, waited impatiently for his thoughts to clear.

Thunder clapped, shaking Santiago out of his dreamlike state.

“I—I have to go.”

With a heaviness in his heart, he stepped aside to let her pass, but not before saying, “God is bigger than your problems.”

She hesitated a fraction, as if considering his words.

“He’ll give you the strength you need to overcome—”

A laugh fell out of her lips. “Yeah, sure, whatever you say.” Wearing a scowl that could scare the devil, she grabbed her bag and fled the lounge as if it was engulfed in ten-foot flames.

His eyes followed her every move. Through the restaurant, past the spa and back out into Terminal One. Claudia was as mysterious as the pathway of the wind, and the polar opposite of the women his mother forced on him, but he found her candor refreshing. And her beauty only enhanced her appeal. Santiago loved his mom, but he was sick of going out on dates with fake, pretentious women who cared only about caviar, champagne and shopping sprees in Milan. He was taken by this soft-spoken Southern beauty. She was real, honest, interested in the well-being of her fellow man. He had to see her again.

Santiago returned to his seat. There were a lot of perks to being a Medina, and he planned to use every connection he had to track her down. And hopefully the next time he saw Claudia she wouldn’t run from their undeniable connection.



“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to put away your cell phone.”

Claudia kept her eyes glued to the screen. She read her sister’s text message again, unsure what to make of it.

The suite isn’t ready yet but hang tight.

What was that supposed to mean? If there was an issue with the room, she wanted to hear about it. Now. Before the plane took off. Lynchburg was a far cry from staying at a luxury resort in Cabo San Lucas, but it was better than nothing.

“Ma’am, did you hear me?”

Claudia held up a finger. “I’ll just be a minute. I need to call my sister.”

“I’m not going to ask you again.”

Stunned by the flight attendant’s rudeness, she cranked her head toward her, wondering how a woman with dimples could be so evil. “It’s an emergency.”

Glaring at her as if she’d been caught coloring on the cabin walls with permanent marker, the bony redhead stuck a hand to her size zero waist and tapped her high heel impatiently on the floor. “This is nonnegotiable. Everyone has to adhere to the safety policies in place, including you.”

What is this? “Dump on Claudia” Day? She wanted to cry—to release all the pent-up emotion she’d been holding inside—but after spending six miserable hours at the Dulles International Airport she didn’t have the strength crying required.

Summoning a smile, she eased forward in her seat and struck down all thoughts of yanking the attendant’s frizzy hair. “I’ve just discovered that—”

“If you don’t put your cell phone away right this minute I’m going to call airport security and have you escorted off this flight.” She talked with her hands, flapping them around like an inebriated traffic cop. “Now, what’s it going to be?”

Realizing she was fighting a losing battle, Claudia closed her phone and stuffed it into her pocket. “I don’t understand what the problem is. Passengers are still boarding the plane and the pilot announced that takeoff wouldn’t be for several more minutes.”

“New rules. Take it up with the airline.”

Claudia wanted to smack the smirk off the stewardess’s face, but instead she grabbed the trashy tabloid magazine from the pocket in front of her. Things could be worse, she decided, scanning the salacious headlines. At least I’m not stuck in Richmond.

A leggy flight attendant sidled up to Ms. Bossy Pants.

“I got one more in first class,” she whispered, fanning her face with her hands. “And he’s so friggin’ sexy I could lick him all over!”

Seated behind the curtain that separated the two cabins, Claudia had a clear view into first class and spotted the new arrival the moment he stepped onto the plane. It was…Santiago. The guy who’d bought her lunch. Claudia prayed she’d go unnoticed in her cheap economy-class seat. No such luck. His gaze zeroed in on her, and a searing, blistering heat spread from her ears to her toes. He sure is easy on the eyes, she thought, feeling a rush of desire. He had the classic facial features of a model, a cluster of jet-black curls, and a chest her hands were desperate to kiss and caress. Great, now I sound like that horny flight attendant.



Santiago flashed a thousand-watt smile, one intended to make her drool. And she did. All over her scoop-neck shirt. He waved as if they were dear old friends, and like a fool, she waved, too. Claudia pushed a hand through her hair and swept her bangs up off her face. She was attracted to him, but that didn’t mean she was interested in making a love connection. Chemistry was overrated. So was confidence, charisma and all of the other qualities he possessed. Forget sexual attraction, fiery French kisses and earth-shattering sex. That stuff was for Hollywood. In the real world, love didn’t last and desire waned faster than quick-drying paint.

Sliding the magazine down past her nose, she combed her eyes over his lean frame. Claudia felt an instant connection to him, something she’d never experienced, and the more she stared at him, the higher her temperature rose. He had a handsome face, a perfect body and a voice dripping with sensuality. Too bad she wasn’t impressed. She’d met dozens of men like him before and had been disappointed by each and every one. From now on she was only dating regular guys, blue-collar workers who understood the value of a dollar earned and spent responsibly. And she was staying the hell away from that Holy Bible thumper sitting in first class. What was it he’d said? Some mumbo jumbo about God being there in times of need. I bet he believes in the tooth fairy, too! she thought, smirking. Her life had been full of setbacks, one after another, and she’d experienced heartbreak at every turn. No, God definitely didn’t care about her. If he did, he wouldn’t allow bad things to keep happening to her.

Her gaze slid from Santiago to Ms. Bossy Pants, and when the redhead disappeared into the gallery, Claudia sprung into action. Tossing the magazine aside, she opened her cell phone, punched in her sister’s number, and waited impatiently for the call to connect. “Pick up, pick up,” she chanted, crouching down in her seat. “Come on, dammit. Pick up.”

“Hello?”

Claudia exhaled. “Max, it’s me. What’s wrong with the suite?”

“Hey, girl. What’s up? Are you still stuck in Washington?”

“I don’t have time to chitchat. Tell me what’s going on.”

“One of Royce’s old college buddies is staying in the suite.”

Her spirits plummeted, fell so fast she felt dizzy. “Why didn’t you check with Royce before you offered it to me?”

“It’s not my fault,” Maxine argued. “He never said a word to me about Dimitri being there until I mentioned that you were headed to Cabo.”

“When’s this guy leaving?”

“In a couple days. He’ll probably be gone before you get there, but I wanted to give you a heads-up just in case.” Her voice brightened. “Everything’ll be fine. Don’t sweat it.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who could end up out on the street.”

“And neither will you. The suite has two master bedrooms, an enormous living room and more than enough space for the both of you.”

Shaking her head, Claudia decided her sister was even crazier than she thought. “Forget it, Max. I’m not going to stay in the suite with a perfect stranger.”

“He doesn’t have to be…” Max giggled. “Dimitri’s tall, supercute, and built like a Ram truck. What more could you want in a sex buddy?”

“I’m not interested.”

“Milk’s not the only thing that does a body good. Hot sex does wonders, too!”

“Now I know how you managed to get knocked up on your second date.”

“Don’t hate, congratulate!” Her voice turned serious. “There have been some new developments in William’s case that I thought you should know about. He was deemed a flight risk by the judge this afternoon in court, and was denied bail.”

“Good. I hope he never gets out.”

“The feds confiscated his computers, but they haven’t uncovered anything incriminating yet.”

Hearing a noise at the rear of the plane, Claudia twisted around in her seat. Fear surged through her, causing her heartbeat to thunder in her ears. The flight attendant from hell was stomping toward her, gaining on her with each step. “I have to go! She’s coming!”

“Who—”

Click.

Claudia tossed her cell phone into her purse, snatched the blanket off the vacant seat beside her, and dragged it up to her chin. Scared the flight attendant would make good on her earlier threat, she closed her eyes and started to snore.

The lights dimmed and a hush fell over the cabin.

“Excuse me, miss. Can you hold this open for me?”

Opening one eye, Claudia watched as Santiago slid in front of Ms. Bossy Pants. His muscles flexed, drew taut against the light fabric of his shirt as he hoisted his travel bag into the overhead bin. He glanced over his shoulder, and for a long, heart-pounding moment Claudia couldn’t breathe. Every time he looked at her she experienced respiratory failure. What was up with that? To keep from slobbering all over herself like one of her sister’s chocolate Labs, she turned her face toward the tiny cabin window.

Thick, somber clouds blackened the sky, and as the plane inched down the runway, torrential rains beat violently against the windows. The last time I was in a storm this bad was that night I was rushed to the hospital. Being strapped down on that cold, hard gurney had made her feel helpless, powerless. Just like now.

Claudia crossed her legs at her ankles. For now, the mess in Richmond was behind her. She was safe, free to do whatever she wanted without public scrutiny. The realization should have calmed her, should have bolstered her spirits, but as her eyes grew heavy with sleep another terrifying thought gripped her. What if those reporters camped out on my lawn discover the truth about my past?


Chapter 4

This is paradise, Claudia decided, stepping out of the green Volkswagen taxi and drinking in the lush scenery of the Sea of Cortez Resort. Tranquility showered over her, filled her with such peace that the tension radiating through her body began to subside. If everything I read in that travel book is true I may never leave!

Nestled on golden sands that stretched for miles, the five-building structure drenched in white and gold was a lavish display of luxury and wealth. Designed to reflect the rich heritage of the Mexican culture, the Sea of Cortez Resort had been constructed with such historic flair, it stood out from the dozens of other hotels along the Tourist Corridor.

Two uniformed men with bodies like Chippendale dancers appeared at her side. One placed a cocktail glass in her hand while the other scooped up her lone travel bag. “Deje todo para trás y escape al paraíso!”

Claudia didn’t know what they said, but did it matter when they sounded dreamy and smelled like tropical fruit? Deciding it didn’t, she hitched herself to her attractive escorts. Wishing she’d paid more attention during her high school Spanish classes, she strung together the few sentences she knew and hoped for the best. “Gracias tanto. Usted es el más amable.”

“It is my pleasure to serve you, señorita. Now leave everything behind and escape to paradise,” one of the men said in a deep, silky baritone. “Your adventure awaits!”

That’s music to my ears, she thought, discreetly cleaning the dots of perspiration along her hairline. Carrying the scent of the water lilies floating in the pond, the evening wind blew hot and fast against her sweaty skin. To quench her thirst, Claudia sipped from the pink, candy-flavored straw. The lemon tickled her taste buds, and the combination of tequila and grenadine packed a powerful punch. Navigating her way through Cabo’s bustling airport had been an exercise in stamina and patience, and after a forty-minute wait for a taxi an ice-cold cocktail was just what the doctor ordered.

“¿Puedo despertar su interés en otro Amanecer de Cortez?”

Claudia blinked, and when her escort traded her empty glass for a new one, she smiled sheepishly. Then gulped it down in ten seconds flat. Knocking back cocktails wasn’t the answers to her problems, but they sure did taste good!

Lit by the warm glow of tiki torches, the cobbled pathway flowed through wide arches and spilled on to manicured lawns rimmed with leafy bushes. Claudia felt like she was walking through the pearly gates. Palm trees waved their arms in greeting, sunshine rained down from the sky and the scent rising from the garden was more intoxicating than the cocktails she’d downed.

The glass doors slid open, revealing an atrium drenched in bright, vibrant colors. High ceilings, topped with mosaic tiles, filtered in natural sunlight and created the sensation of still being outdoors. Oozing with charm, the main floor lobby featured bronze chandeliers dripping with crystals, oil paintings on crimson walls, and velvet couches that looked cozy enough to sleep on. Or cuddle on. And couples were doing just that. It was almost nine o’clock in the evening, but the resort was teeming with life and activity. Everywhere Claudia turned guests were laughing, chatting and living it up.

Grateful to her escorts, she generously tipped them and joined the line in front of the reception desk. While Claudia waited, she retrieved her wallet and selected two pieces of ID. Traveling had exhausted her, and she was anxious to see the oceanfront suite Maxine had bragged about. She only hoped it was available. If not, she’d just stay in another room because there was no way she was shacking up with Mr. Ram Truck.

“Buenas noches, señorita. Bienvenido a la Estación de Mar de Cortez. ¿Cómo le puedo ayudar?”

Claudia offered a weak smile. She hoped the concierge spoke English, because the little Spanish she knew wasn’t enough to carry her through check-in. Before she could speak, he asked for her last name. Relieved that she wouldn’t have to break out her travel book, she inquired about Suite 97. “Is it available?”

“Yes, Ms. Jefferies, it is.”

Claudia wanted to jump for joy, but smiled instead.

“Is this your first time in Cabo San Lucas?” he asked, punching the necessary information into the computer. “Or are you a regular?”

“I was in Mexico many years ago, but I’ve never been to Cabo before.”

He held up her passport, intently studied her picture. “How long will you be staying with us, Ms. Jeffries?”

“I’m not sure,” she told him. “Probably a month.”

“That’s wonderful! Four weeks is more than enough time to see Cabo and the surrounding cities as well. Might I make a few recommendations of things to do?”

Claudia knew he was just doing his job—making conversation to speed along the process—but after a day filled with delays and disappointments she didn’t have energy for small talk. “No thanks. It’s been a long day and I’m really looking forward to relaxing in my suite.”

“I understand, Ms. Jeffries. All I need is a credit card to cover the incidentals, and then you can be on your way.”

Nodding, she unzipped her wallet and handed over her Platinum MasterCard.

“For an additional fee you can add a Luxury Services package to your stay. It features twenty-four-hour housekeeping, private butler service and unlimited access to our world-class spa for the low, low price of only five hundred dollars.”

Claudia’s mouth hit the limestone counter. Did she look like a sucker? Instead of laughing in the concierge’s face, she said, “I think I’ll pass.”

“Very well. You can always add the service later if you change your mind.” The computer beeped, and the smile slid off his face. “I’m sorry, Ms. Jeffries, but there seems to be a problem. Your credit card has been declined.”

“What?” Shame burned Claudia’s cheeks, made her body so hot she could start a forest fire. “That’s impossible. I’m nowhere near the limit.”

“Have you made any large purchases in the last few hours? Sometimes that may cause—”

“There must be a problem with your system. Swipe it again.”

He did, and this time the computer beeped twice. “I’m sorry. It still won’t go through.”

Hoping no one had witnessed her humiliation, Claudia peeked over her shoulder. Three suit-clad men holding briefcases stood behind her, dead quiet. They were listening in and were every bit as annoying as those pesky reporters who’d made themselves at home on her front lawn.

Hanging her head, she shielded her face with her hands. What if one of them recognized her and alerted the press? She could see the headlines now:

Claudia Jeffries-Prescott spotted in Cabo San Lucas!

Ex-wife of disgraced CEO can’t pay bills!

Investors forced to eat in soup kitchens while Prescotts party at world-class resort!

“Do you have another credit card I can charge?”

Claudia dodged the question. “I don’t understand what’s going on. I’ve been using this credit card all day,” she confessed, pushing out a breath of frustration. “I’ll have to call MasterCard and have them straighten this mess out.”

He gestured to the end of the counter. “Please, use our house phone.”

“Now?” Claudia checked her watch. Nine thirty-seven. No way she was calling MasterCard at this time of night. Forget that. She’d sooner sleep in the lobby than subject herself to an hour-long wait. “I don’t plan to order room service or eat from the mini bar, so having my credit card on file is not necessary.”

The concierge reared back like he’d been burned with scalding water. Claudia read his facial expression, saw the veins stretched tight in his neck and the lines of doubt etched in his forehead. He didn’t trust her any more than those detectives did back in Richmond.

“I simply cannot check you in without a valid credit card, Ms. Jeffries.” He must have heard the harshness in his tone, because he softened his voice. “We’re not supposed to take cash to cover the cost of the incidentals, but I’m willing to do it to help you out. There’s an ATM machine to the right of the guest services booth and…”

Claudia strangled a groan. Even if she had the energy to walk back through the lobby—which she didn’t—thanks to the SEC she didn’t have access to her bank accounts. And her emergency fund account, which she’d wisely registered in Aunt Hattie’s name years earlier, was accessible only through commercial banking. “Can we straighten this out in the morning? I’ve been traveling for the last eight hours, and I’m exhausted.”

A voluptuous brunette, who looked like she’d been stuffed into her tangerine-colored uniform, appeared beside the concierge. “Is there a problem, Luis?”

He spoke quietly, in rapid-fire Spanish.

A minute passed. Then two. Were they still talking about her credit card problems or their plans for the weekend? Claudia wished she spoke Spanish, or knew someone who could help her out of this mess. I should have taken that Santiago guy’s business card, she thought, mentally berating herself for insulting him and fleeing the airport lounge without his number. It wasn’t every day that a perfect stranger bought her lunch, and the Mexican native was sincere and charming. He seemed like the kind of man who made things happen and got things done.

“Registering guests without proper documentation is against company policy,” the woman explained in precise English. “And doing so could result in disciplinary action for the both of us.”

“I understand that, and once I straighten everything out with the credit card company tomorrow I’ll pass that information on to you.”

“I’ll go speak with my supervisor and see if there’s something we can do.”

Claudia read the woman’s name tag. “Thank you, Rosario. I greatly appreciate it.”

“I’ll be a few minutes. Make yourself comfortable in the reception area and I’ll come get you when I’m done.”

In spite of her outward show of calm, Claudia was nervous and scared. Fighting against feelings of despair, she picked up her bag and carried herself over to the lounge. A stiff drink would come in handy right now, she thought, wishing the tray-carrying bellhop was still around. What more could go wrong today? Six months ago, she’d been paid handsomely to plan a magical destination wedding for colleagues turned soul mates, Niveah Evans and Damien Hunter, and now she had more money woes than the late King of Pop.

Claudia took a moment to collect herself. Going to another resort tonight was out of the question, so she’d just have to convince the resort manager to let her stay. What was it Maxine had said? Smile, giggle and flash a bit of cleavage if you have to! Claudia hated playing the beauty card, especially because she always felt as inept as the forty-third president addressing the Senate, but if flirting would get her out of the lobby and into that luxury suite she’d channel her inner sex goddess and charm the man’s socks off.



Santiago poked his head into the staff lounge, and when he saw his mother lift the sofa love seat and vacuum underneath it, a frown creased his lips. Curiosity drew Santiago inside the room. Tilting his head to the side, he pensively stroked the length of his jaw. His mother’s energy level wasn’t the only thing that shocked him. Her midsection was flat, and she had arms that would make Wonder Woman jealous.

Santiago watched in stunned disbelief as his mom made quick work of cleaning the lounge. Something smelled fishy, and the odor wasn’t coming from the aquarium.

“You’re here!” Ana Medina switched off the vacuum. Dropping the handle, she shot across the room and threw her arms around her son. “Welcome home, Tiago!”

Santiago chuckled and returned her hug. “Thanks, Mom. It’s good to see you.”

“When did you get in?”

“About an hour ago. I dropped my bags off in the office, then came looking for you. Why are you cleaning?”

“We’re short-staffed today, and I couldn’t stand to see this room dirty any longer. Just because we own the resort doesn’t mean I can’t do our part to help out.”

“And you wonder where I get my tireless work ethic from,” he teased, winking at her.

“Enough about work. Stand still and let me get a good look at you.” Slipping off her eyeglasses, she studied him for a long, hard minute. “You get more handsome each year. That’s hard to believe considering you live in such a wickedly cold place. And a violent one, too.”

Santiago hid a smile. “Can I at least have something to eat before you start in on me?”

“I have a pot of salsa simmering at home as we speak,” she explained, her voice filled with cheer. “I’m making all your favorites tonight. Pea soup, Spanish rice, and beef enchiladas.”

“You’re supposed to be taking it easy.” He watched her, saw how she dodged his gaze and shifted her feet. “Has the hospital finally confirmed the date and time for your surgery?”

Ana clutched his hands. “Great news, Tiago! The surgery’s been cancelled. Most of my symptoms have disappeared and the few that remain are quite minor.”

“Is that so?”

“I decided to try some of the things my doctor suggested, and I’ve been getting stronger each day. I take ginseng three times a day, quit drinking alcohol and started cooking healthier, low-calorie meals, too.”

“Exactly how much weight have you lost?”

She shrugged and stared down at the sleek tiled floor. “Just a little.”

“How much?” he pressed, crossing his arms. “Ten? Fifteen? Twenty pounds?”

“Twenty-seven, give or take.”

Santiago clamped his lips together to trap a curse inside. “You were never scheduled to have abdominal surgery, were you? That was just a ploy to get me down here, wasn’t it?”

“Of course not!” The words shot out of her mouth with more force than a bullet from a gun. Anger crimped her features, but her tone was soft. “I would never lie about something as serious as that. I was scared about going under the knife, so I changed my entire lifestyle.”

“It’s hard to believe you lost almost thirty pounds by just altering your diet.”

“Tiago, don’t be ridiculous! The weight didn’t just vanish. I’ve been working my tush off!” Her smile was proud. “I’ve been swimming and hiking and playing a little squash.”

“You’re exercising?” Santiago dropped his hands on his waist like an exasperated father about to scold his child. “Who are you? And what have you done with my mother?”

Laughter bubbled out from her lips. “Now that your father’s overseeing the construction of the new golf resort in Acapulco, I have more time to try new things.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Mom. I just wish you would’ve told me your surgery was cancelled sooner.”

“I only found out yesterday,” she said, with a shrug of her shoulders.

Santiago didn’t believe her, but he wasn’t stupid enough to call his mother a liar.

“I’m glad you’re here, Tiago. I was convinced you’d forgotten all about me.”

He tossed his head back and had a good laugh. “Right, like you’d ever let that happen.”

“Your father and I have missed you dearly, son.”

Deep down, Santiago knew only half of what his mother said was true, but he inquired about his dad anyway. “How’s he doing?” To expunge the bitter taste in his mouth, he swallowed hard. “Is he still dead set against attending counseling with you?”

“Yes, he said hearing other people’s stories of loss only compounds his grief.”

“Figures. Dad’s never been one to share his feelings.”

“That’s why I need you around, Tiago. You’re the only one who understands what I’m going through, and the only person I can talk to when I’m feeling down.”

“Is he still drinking?”

Ana shook her head, diverted her gaze. “He hardly touches the stuff anymore. Honestly, I can’t remember the last time he had a drink.”

Sure you don’t. He saw the truth in her eyes, saw the flicker of hurt that flashed across her face. His dad was still a raging alcoholic, and knowing that he was the cause of his father’s downward spiral made Santiago feel sick with guilt.

“When are you going to move home and help me run the resort?”

“When you stop throwing your friends’ daughters at me.”

Mrs. Medina slipped an arm around her son’s waist. “Find yourself a nice girl from a nice Mexican family and I will!”

Santiago chuckled when his mom wagged her finger at him. Then, she sighed dramatically and launched into her famous I-want-grandchildren-before-I-die speech. The one she repeated faithfully every week. To get his mother off his back, he considered telling her about Claudia, but thought better of it. Besides, what would he say? Hey, Mom, I met a stunningly beautiful woman at the airport who I felt an instant connection to, but I stupidly chased her off.

While his mother talked, he replayed every minute of his conversation with Claudia in his mind. He wondered where she was and what she was doing. Was she reclining by the pool at her hotel? Or fighting off the men at the bar while she sipped her drink? No doubt about that. He’d seen firsthand the kind of attention she drew, saw how grown men tripped and stumbled over themselves in her presence. Not that he blamed them. Claudia had it all—flawless skin that had a soft, natural glow, eyes that penetrated, and an endearing shyness that made him want to protect her, hold her, take her in his arms and make everything wrong in her life better.

“I’m just not ready to take that step,” he admitted, hoping to put an end to her complaints once and for all. “I’ll get married and have kids in God’s time and not a moment sooner.”

His mother sniffed, rubbed her fingertips slowly under her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t. It’s just, now that your sister’s gone, you’re all I have left. And it kills me only seeing you once or twice a year.” Wearing a sad smile, she patted his cheeks as if he was a little boy rather than a grown man. “It would mean the world to me if you returned home.”

Hearing the anguish in his mother’s voice made Santiago feel lower than the gecko slithering outside the window. He cleared his throat, but the burning in his chest only intensified. The stench of his guilt was stifling, thicker than smoke, and suddenly the staff lounge felt smaller than an airplane bathroom.

“I promised your father I wouldn’t say anything, but if I have to speak my mind—”

“Ramón, there’s a problem out front I need you to take care of.” The female clerk standing in the doorway bowed slightly. “I apologize for interrupting, Señora Medina, but I was wondering if you’ve seen Ramón. I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Tomorrow’s his daughter’s Quinceañera, so I let him go early,” she explained, waving her inside. “Rosario, there’s someone special I’d like you to meet.”

Knowing what was coming next, Santiago braced himself for impact. He only prayed his mother wouldn’t ask the clerk out on his behalf. The last time she did, he’d been tricked into escorting a chatty fashion designer to a black-tie event.

“This very handsome, very single young man is my son, Santiago. He’ll be returning to Cabo soon to take over running the resort, and I’m depending on you and the rest of the staff to show him how things are done around here.”

Santiago frowned. Moving back to Cabo? To run the family business? No way, no how. There were too many memories, too much pain. And every time he saw the hate in his father’s eyes he was reminded of that tragic summer night. It was hard enough waking up each morning as it was; he didn’t need a daily reminder of what a screw-up he was, too.

“I’ll try my best, Señora Medina.”

“Now, what’s going on out front? You look upset.” Ana stuck a hand on her hip. “It’s not that South African diplomat again, is it? That horny old man is testing my patience, and if he propositions another female maid I’m tossing him out on his rear!”

Rosario explained the source of her troubles. “I feel bad for Ms. Jeffries, but I’m apprehensive about granting her request. The last time I allowed a couple to stay in a suite without a valid credit card, they pilfered the mini bar and trashed the room.”

“I remember. That’s why we revised our check-in policies last year,” Ana said with a fervent nod. “How long is she planning to stay?”

“A month.”

“I see. All right, let her pay in cash to cover the cost of the incidentals.”

“I suggested that,” Rosario explained. “She refused.”

“If she doesn’t have a hundred dollars in her bank account, then how can she afford to stay here for a month?”

“I was wondering the same thing.”

“I’ll get to the bottom of this.” Ana stepped forward, then swiveled around and grabbed Santiago’s arm. “On second thought, you go handle it. It’s about time you got your feet wet, and what better way to get acquainted with our policies than by manning the front desk?”

“This is not exactly my area of expertise,” he pointed out, taking a giant step back. “I’m a business consultant, not a hotel manager. I don’t know the first thing about operating a resort.”

“Don’t worry. Rosario will be right there to help you.” Ana pecked his cheek. “I’m going home to finish dinner, but I’ll see you in an hour.”

A wave and she was gone, fleeing the lounge at breakneck speed.

Rosario laughed. “Your mom is quite the woman.”

“You can say that again.”

“Shall we go?”

Santiago nodded and reluctantly followed the brunette down the hall. He’d only arrived an hour ago, but his mother had already duped him twice. God help me, he prayed, releasing a tortured sigh, because at this rate she’ll have me married off by the end of the week!


Chapter 5

“She was just here,” Rosario said, gesturing to the red wingback chair she’d left Ms. Jeffries sitting in. “I don’t know where she could have gone.”




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