Stolen By The Queen: A Narcos Romance

Chapter 2

Camila's soft, smaller palm felt entirely engulfed in his much larger calloused one. Ryan. She'd been told she'd be meeting with an American man when she finally got the call on the small burner phone she had started to worry would never ring. It had been months since a friend had connected her with the DEA, a girl named Selena she'd met out at the bars that catered more to wealthy tourists than the locals. Camila had become desperate with her situation, seeking out any channel she could for a shot--no matter how small--at freedom from the fate she'd been destined to live before she was even born. Selena had babbled on about making over thirty grand from her engagements with the DEA, feeding them information on relatively low level drug busts. Nothing more than good PR and quick wins for the US government. But for a girl like Selena, that thirty grand had been life changing money. Camila certainly didn't need the money, but she needed the chance. Her life depended on it.

She glanced back down at her drink, taking a sip to wet her suddenly dry throat. Ryan leaned toward the bar, the fabric of his white t-shirt stretching tautly across his broad back as his shoulders rounded and his elbows slid deeper onto the bar's surface. Camila stifled a shiver as his arm gently brushed against hers. She took a moment to take in his face, her blood pounding loudly in her ears as she tried to appear like nothing more than a woman at a bar. She had to actively restrain herself from glancing nervously around at the patrons for fear that someone might have followed her, someone who knew who she really was.

Ryan licked his lower lip, his bright blue eyes cold and ruthless. The only thing harder about his face than the impenetrable sea-glass of his eyes was the way he held his jaw. Firm and solid like stone. He was handsome in an overtly masculine way, but not Hollywood pretty. The word pretty had no place near this man.

"You come here often?" Ryan's deep voice vibrated low, his sharp eyes turning toward her. She knew they probably wouldn't get to the intel exchange within the first thirty seconds of meeting each other, but something about feigning bar banter and small talk with this man felt entirely out of place, if not impossible to pull off. Being followed by cartel henchmen packing heat and a penchant for revenge? That was something that had kept Camila up last night as she tossed and turned in her sheets. But fake flirting with an alarmingly attractive and guarded American man? That part hadn't crossed her mind. 

Camila gripped her drink to ground herself in the present moment and let out a small puff of air before tossing her long, almost black hair over her shoulder and standing up straighter. She plastered a sultry smile on her face, knowing Ryan could see right through it but hoping it would fool anyone else who may be watching them.

"Occasionally...when I'm looking for a good time."

"A good time?" The ends of his mouth tipped up just barely and Camila scolded the feminine part of herself that got a small thrill out of it. It's fake, Camila. All of it. Just keep acting.

"What about you?"

"Never been one to turn down a good time." Ryan smiled back at her but it looked like a threat. "Where else do you like to party?" Camila squinted slightly, picking up the subtle change in his tone. He was seeking out his first piece of intel. She'd expected them to go off in private and make the exchange quickly, not fake it out here right in the open. She'd never done this before but she was quick on her feet and good at reading people. Better at reading others than she was at lying which was something she'd have to work on if she wanted any chance of her plan working with the DEA succeeding.

"My friend Paulo told me about a party this Saturday. In a gated neighborhood, big mansions and whatnot. They're usually pretty epic blowouts." Ryan nodded once, a signal between them that she'd taken the bait properly. She took it as an encouraging sign. Before he could follow up, Camila leaned in closer, attempting to amp up her flirting as her body skimmed along the muscular edge of his, her lips just above his ear in his sitting position over the bar even though she was standing in high heels. "At the intersection of Trejos and Tlacotán, on the 204." She kept her voice low and smooth even though she felt her jaw tremble. She'd just given Cartel official information to a DEA agent. One sentence, barely a second long. Her first transgression. And to a practical stranger too. She made a move to step back from him but Ryan's arm shot out, gripping her side. It wasn't affectionate. His fingers dug into her skin in warning.

"If it's inaccurate you don't get paid. If it's a trap you don't get paid. Don't assume I'm above killing a beautiful woman if she fucks with my mission. I promise you, I've done much worse." Ryan's words were harsh, like gravel against the shell of her ear. Camila felt a chill run down her spine, goosebumps breaking out over her tan skin even though the sun's warm rays were fully setting in hard bars across the patio bar. He didn't sound like he was bragging or exaggerating. He was simply stating facts. And even though she didn't care about the money she had to act like she did. Because if Ryan knew her true incentive he might kill her on the spot right now. 

She raised her head to meet his icy light eyes and the confirmation was there, clear as a freshwater stream. This man had killed before. A lot.

"Te entiendo."

"Good." He released his grip and Camila and she took an unsteady step back, her arm reaching out to grip the edge of the bar for support. "Where are you staying?" He didn't look at her as he pulled some bills from his back pocket, laying them out on the counter so as to signal the end of their first official exchange. Quicker than she'd expected. 

"At the hotel on Rios and Manila." Camila felt like her tongue was made of sand but didn't want to down her drink in a show of nerves. Perhaps she should have lied about her exact location. But Ryan just nodded, standing to his full height which had to be at least a few inches over six feet. Camila tipped her head back slightly to look up at him.

"I'll pick you up at eight in two days. Be down in the lobby by 7:55 PM. Hit #2 on your burner if something comes up between now and then. No friends, no backup, got it?" He kept his voice so low she had to crane her neck to hear his words fully but she nodded once in response, her eyes widening with surprise when he leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. Clearly just for show. He could've kissed a dog or his niece with more passion. Ryan left briskly, not saying another word as Camila watched his broad retreating back, the golden-red hue of his brown hair heightened in the sunset, and an ever so faint limp in his right leg as he made his way through the sand of the beach.