“Bless her heart. Shallow as a puddle. You know she’ll just keep pestering you until I get back, don’t you?”
“Annoying bitch,” Todd said without heat.
Mia laughed. “Maybe, but she’s very decorative.”
“She is that. A decorative bitch.”
“I know she can be annoying, but I think she’s lonely in that big house. Oddly, I think she really cared about my father. She misses him, and wants to be part of something. We’ve talked about this. Have Allison give her a job.”
“Isn’t being on the board of directors enough?” The annoyance in his tone grew, and she heard the gurgle of liquid being poured over ice.
“You know it’s just a title; she doesn’t have any power. She doesn’t want any power. Just somewhere to go a couple of times a week where she can wear her pretty outfits and shoes and boss people around for her amusement. Find her something to do, sweet pea, then she’ll get out of your hair.”
“I’ll talk to Human Resources tomorrow. She wanders around here like a damned lost fart in a thunderstorm. I’ll tell Allison to give her an office with a door. Speaking of closed doors, how’s your hunky sex slave?”
“I wish. He’s brooding at the moment.”
“Does he ride a motorbike?”
Mia laughed. “No. Would that help him not to brood?”
“Brooding and motorbikes go together. Very sexy.”
“How about brooding and campers?”
“Not quite so sexy.”
“You’d be very, very surprised, cousin.” They talked for a few more minutes and then hung up. Mia rolled over and looked up at the water-stained ceiling. Just because Cruz was sulking/annoyed/distracted didn’t mean she couldn’t persuade him to change his mind.
She could knock at his door. . . . Bake a pie? Take too long. He seemed to like her cookies. Too bad he’d eaten them all that afternoon. She could cut up those lemon bars—
She eyed the discarded sheer purple garment tossed on the foot of the bed.
Fresh-from-the-oven lemon bars and a wet negligee? Mia grinned. Skip the bars. If the negligee didn’t lure him out of his cave, he was made of granite.
And she would never, ever try to seduce him again.
• • •
Cruz whipped his head around to get his rain-drenched hair out of his eyes. Both hands were occupied fighting the slick tarp he was attempting to stretch over the damn leaky roof of the camper. Uphill battle. His wet fingers slipped, and the tarp became a fucking sail billowing in the wind, slapping him in the face and almost knocking him over the side.
Have you ever hit a woman? Jesus fucking Christ. It had taken every atom of Cruz’s self-control not to go outside the second he’d seen the bruises on Daisy and her reaction to her child’s screams, and show Latour what it felt like to be beaten on by someone stronger and bigger than himself. It was like fucking seeing what his old man had done to his mother all over again. Unacceptable. He’d look into the situation before he left tomorrow, then take action. But that wasn’t for Mia to know. Not that it mattered what she knew, since she wasn’t going to live to see the sunrise.
As for him striking a woman— Hit as in killed, yeah. But strike a woman? Never. He’d never raise a hand to anything, or anyone, smaller and weaker than himself.
He’d make Mia’s death quick and painless. She wouldn’t know—
But he’d know. He’d always know. Fucking hell. What a shit job to perform as his swan song.
The gator’s deep, forlorn croak echoed in the black cypress swamp. The bullfrogs bleated with a hollow, resonant sound that dissolved into the gator’s croaking bark and the tinny thunder of the rain pelting the metal of the camper. The tarp vibrated in his hands as rain slid icy fingers down his bare skin. Pulling a shirt on to climb around outside would’ve been useless and only gotten his one pair of extra clothing soaked. The muggy heat of the day was squashed by the deluge after dark. It was cool but not cold.
It was pretty damned hard to imagine lying on a beach in Brazil while cold rain sluiced down his neck and his dripping hair slashed across his eyes, making it even harder to see.
Suddenly Oso erupted into frantic barks. His excitement rocked the small camper, causing Cruz to stagger several steps to maintain his balance on the curved roof. “What the fu—”
“Hey! Need help?”
Mia. Illuminated by the only light source, face upturned, drenched to the skin. Bare-assed naked. What. The. Hell.
“Oso! Quiet! What are you doing out here?” Naked.
“Coming to help you?”
Since she couldn’t see the camper from inside the house, he doubted that was her original intention. His dick rose in eager anticipation. Down boy! “I don’t need h— Fuckit!”