telling me the truth, why on earth would Meredith want to kill Miguel?”
“She’s trying to save your life.”
“I can do that myself.”
“Maybe so, but having some help wouldn’t hurt and she knows that. There’s always a need for people like me. Sometimes it’s the only solution.”
Julia could hardly speak. “Are you telling me Meredith paid you to come down here? That you’re some kind of…hit man or something?”
Instead of answering, he walked over to her. She wanted to back away from him, but she stood her ground. His eyes held flecks of gold as well as green and for the first time, she saw his scar. A long thin line ran from his right ear all the way down his neck before disappearing beneath his shirt.
“Meredith told me she wasn’t sure you knew who your husband really is, but I think you do. I think you must also know that you won’t survive once you leave here unless Miguel Ramirez is dead. You might get out of the jungle, hell, you might even get out of the country but if you do, you’ll spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder because you know—” he stopped for emphasis and repeated himself “—you know that you can’t take away his son and expect him to just forget about it.”
“I understand the dynamics of my situation, Mr. Cruz. I don’t need you to explain them to me.”
“How do you intend to handle the problem?”
She felt herself flush. “I have to get out of here first. Then I’ll deal with Miguel.”
He shook his head. “You’ve got it backward. First you’ve got to deal with Miguel, and then you can get out of here. If you don’t, you’re going to end up dead. Maybe when you least expect it.”
He’d said nothing that she hadn’t thought of already, but Julia suddenly felt sick. She’d been too short-sighted. Again. His bluntness lifted the blindness that her determination had masked. Miguel would come after her. Forever. Or until he had Tomas back.
But kill him? Just like that? Could she stand by and let that happen?
She looked at Cruz. “You’re really serious, aren’t you?”
“Do I look like a man who kids?”
They both knew the answer to that question, but Julia was the one who spoke. “No, you don’t,” she admitted, “but you don’t look crazy, either. You have to be, though, if you think you can harm Miguel. We live in a fortress with too many bodyguards to count. He has weapons close by at all times. He keeps me and my son virtual prisoners. No one can get to Miguel.”
“I got to you,” he said with confidence. “I can get to him, too.”
He spoke with such assurance that she couldn’t help herself. She thought of what it would mean if he could really do what he was proposing.
She’d be free. Free to live her life again. No more endless questions about her activities. No keeping quiet when she wanted to scream. No more fear for Tomas and his future.
The thought of her son brought her back to earth with a crash. Help would be great, but the freedom she sought for herself and Tomas was too important to leave in the hands of a stranger. She’d trusted Miguel and look where that had gotten her.
“You’re nuts,” she said bluntly. “I’m not helping you do anything, much less kill Miguel.”
UNDER HIS BREATH, Cruz cursed Meredith. And then he cursed himself. He’d let her persuade him that the direct approach would be the one to use with Julia Vandamme. He should have done the job like he always did. On his own. Quietly. Simply.
Normally, Meredith wouldn’t have convinced him to go against his better judgment, but time was short. Armando had been right. Julia had become a shortcut Cruz had to take.
It didn’t matter, though. What was done, was done. Julia Vandamme knew the truth now, so he had to proceed the best way he could.
“You no longer have a choice in the matter,” he said. “If you don’t see things my way, I can pretty well guarantee you’ll be arrested for Miguel Ramirez’s murder. He is going to die and you’ll be the only one left for the policia to blame.”
She seemed to blanch, but it was hard to tell. Her ivory skin had lost most of its color at the start of their conversation.
“That sounds like a threat,” she said softly.
“It’s called the truth from where I stand,” he replied. “But the results are going to be the same regardless of what we call it. I’m going to come into your house and kill your husband. Unless you agree to help me out, you won’t know when and you won’t know how. You’ll be in the dark until the local uniforms arrive, find his body and throw your ass in jail. That will be the last anyone will ever hear about you.” He moved a step closer to her. “Unless you choose the alternative.”
“Which is?”
“Do what I ask when the time is right.”
“And in return?”
“I’ll help you and your son get out of the country.”
She licked her lips nervously, pulling his gaze to her mouth. “Meredith is my friend. She’d never put me or Tomas in danger like that. She’d get us out first.”
“Maybe so,” he answered harshly. “But Meredith isn’t here. I am. And I’m going to do this my way. All you have to decide is if you want to help me and escape, or if you want to stick around and gamble with your future. I’m very good at what I do, Mrs. Ramirez. You’d better think hard before you make your decision, because once it’s been made, there’s no going back. For any of us.”
“I hate Miguel, but killing him?” Her throat moved as she swallowed. “Murder is something entirely different.”
“That’s not what you told Meredith. You said you’d kill him yourself if you could.”
“I did say that,” she conceded. “But in the heat of the moment we’ve all said things that might have been better left unsaid. Surely, you’re guilty yourself of what I’m talking about, Mr. Cruz.”
“Actually, I’m not. When I say I’m going to do something, it gets done.”
She looked at him, their impasse building, until he reached out and took a strand of her hair. Winding it around his finger, he dropped his voice. “I’ve heard the jail over in Cali is a pretty rough place but las rubias go over big everywhere. You’re pretty and young, thin and blond. You’d probably be able to cut some kind of deal along the way, but you’ll never see your kid again.”
CHAPTER FOUR
INCHES AWAY from Cruz, Julia tugged her hair away from his grip, then stepped back. “What kind of bastard are you?” she whispered, his words taking away her ability to speak normally.
“One who’s been hired to do a job,” he said. “Which I intend to complete, whether you participate or not.” Pivoting, he picked up his leather jacket, slipping his arms into
