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For the Love of Sin(40)

By:Leanne Banks


Glancing around the entrance, he didn’t see her. He noticed the ladies’ room was to the left and concluded she was in there. He sat down in an upholstered chair to wait. A couple of minutes passed, and Rex and Sheree appeared.

Rex frowned. “Where’s Sin?”

“I think she’s in the restroom,” Troy told him.

“Would you like me to check?” Sheree offered.

Troy paused. It had been a few minutes. “Yeah, if you don’t mind. Thanks.”

Sheree smiled and went into the restroom. A minute later she returned, confusion marring her serene features. “No one’s in there,” she said. “No one at all.”

“No one,” Troy and Rex said at the same time.

“Well where—”

Rex glanced out the window and swore. “Better take a look.”

Troy stared out the window, gaping. He watched as Senada got into the passenger seat of a white convertible. A guy was driving. Troy didn’t have a clue who it was. His feet started moving before his brain did.

“What in hell is she—” He nearly pulled the door off the hinges as he opened it. “Sin!” he yelled, but the only response he got was a cloud of exhaust.

Rex walked to his side. “Who was that?”

Troy shook his head. “Don’t know.”

Rex swore. “She’s done it again.”

Troy unglued his gaze from the license plate of the white convertible. “What do you mean, she’s done it again?”

“Run off,” Rex said with a sigh. “She used to do this all the time when she was a teenager. Especially when she was upset.”

Run off. Troy felt a sinking sensation. He was responsible for this. “Where’d she go?”

“Usually somewhere just over the border in Mexico.”

He resisted the urge to swear. “Anywhere in particular?” he asked, knowing he was going to have to go get her.

Rex made a clicking noise with his tongue and shook his head. “I can give you a few suggestions, but Mexico’s got more little border places than I’ve got cattle. And I’ve got a lot of cattle, Troy.”

“Give me the short list.”

“It’ll be like looking for a needle in a haystack,” Rex warned.

“I don’t have a choice,” Troy told the older man. “She’s upset. I’m partly responsible.”



Troy quickly learned he was at a disadvantage. The Mexicans he encountered found it extremely amusing that he was looking for a woman. “Muchas muchachas bonitas.”

He went into bars asking the same question. At the eleventh, a young English-speaking man overheard his conversation with the bartender and approached him. “You looking for the one they call Sin?”

Troy gave the guy a double take. “Yeah. You know where she is?”

“She was here earlier.” The guy motioned the bartender for another beer. “About an hour.”

Troy ground his teeth. “Do you know where she was headed?”

The man gave Troy a look of sympathy. “Sorry. I just heard her say she wanted to dance.”

“Dance,” Troy echoed. He was going to kill her. When he found her. “You mind giving me a short list of the most popular places for dancing?”

The man obliged, and Troy continued his quest. He stopped in one place and would have sworn he could smell her perfume. She was nowhere to be seen, however, so he went on.

The next to the last bar was a loud, jumping place. The music was fast and hot, the crowd of people spilling out onto the porch, and the walls of the building seemed to bulge and vibrate from the pounding rhythm of drums and feet. Hoots and rippling screams of delight echoed out the open windows.

Sin was there.

Troy knew it, felt it in his bones, and he steeled himself for seeing her as he climbed the steps. He walked through the door and took a moment for his eyes to adjust. The room was a mass of gyrating bodies, and the smell of Mexican beer and tequila was strong. As soon as his gaze focused, he saw her. She would have been hard to miss.

Since she was dancing on a tabletop with a half-dozen men cheering her on.

Troy swore and moved toward her. Thank the Lord for small things, he told himself. At least she was still fully dressed. The way she moved, however, compensated for her conservative nice-girl sheath. Her hands lifted on either side of her body, she twisted and swiveled, alternately tiptoeing and stomping her heels on the wooden tabletop. Her hair was wild and loose. Any man would want to sift his fingers through it and get lost. Any man would want those silky waves flowing over his body.

As did the men at her feet.

Troy gave a wry chuckle. Sin was so accustomed to having men at her feet, she didn’t seem to notice them. She danced unto herself, passionate, her eyes staring off into the distance as she spent her energy and emotion. She smiled at no one in particular, clearly enjoying the music.