Asylum

Chapter 16: A Very Good ... or Very Bad ... Reason

He reached up a long-fingered hand to tuck a stray lock of pale hair behind my ear and continued to study my face.

"Because ... you think a break might be good for us?" I struggled to keep my tone light.

"I said I wanted to take you."

"Good point," I conceded. "Are you worried about someone noticing that we're both taking off at the same time? Or that Stefano will say 'no' to my time-off request and you'll have to suspiciously pull rank?"

He smiled. "Something to think about, perhaps, for the future, but no, this wouldn't require you to take any time off – I'm leaving on Sunday and should be back by Tuesday evening."

I thought for a moment. "You're not sure that Mateo and I can be in a hermetically sealed environment together for the few hours it will take to fly down there without resorting to fisticuffs?"

Ivan laughed. "I hadn't considered that," he admitted. "I'll have to add it to my list of reservations."

"Which also includes ...?" I prompted.

He shifted his gaze to the ceiling. "It could be dangerous," he murmured quietly.

I pretended to bristle at that. "I beg your pardon? Are you suggesting that Miami is somehow more dangerous than New York? As a native New Yorker, I'm offended."

"I'm sure we'll be fine in Miami," he placated me. "But I have a meeting to go to, and it will be on a boat, out at sea."

"I see," I said quietly. My heart was starting to pound again. Was I really negotiating a front-row seat to a possible meeting with a high-up in the cartel? Possibly even Emilio or Esteban Santiago? "Well, I'm a pretty good swimmer, and I'm sure Mateo and Marshall will be capable of handling a variety of perilous situations that may arise, even if the problem was a school of hungry sharks."

He smiled. "Your confidence in them may be well-placed, but they won't be with me."

He saw the mixture of surprise, confusion, and concern on my face and gently kissed me. "I'm meeting with someone I work for, on his private yacht. His people will be with us on board, and bringing my own security would be awkward at best, but more likely insulting."

"Well then, you have to bring me," I argued. "I'm your back-up bodyguard, remember?"

"I don't think there will be much opportunity for taking out would-be assassins with toilet lids."

"I can improvise," I assured him. "Boathooks ... life preservers ... fire extinguishers ... and, if I'm desperate, perhaps ostentatious serving utensils or gold-lined silver ice buckets. Whatever it takes to keep that gorgeous skin free of unwanted holes."

He reached up again to stroke my hair a couple times before letting his hand fall back onto his bare chest. "You talk a big game, Маленькое солнце (little sun), but you're not actually trained to do that kind of thing, and Mateo believes that your presence would make the situation more dangerous, not less."

"Of course he does," I muttered. "I'm surprised you even bothered to discuss it with him." And a little upset that you talked with him about it first.

"I didn't. When I told him we were going to Miami, the first thing he said was 'Don't even think about bringing Lex'."

What had I done to earn that kind of enmity? I thought. Besides make his job harder, humiliate him in front of his partner, and smash him in the family jewels, a snarky part of my brain reminded me acerbically. Oh, shut up.

"So if my being there could endanger us both, why are you still considering bringing me?"

"You mean, besides the fact that I clearly can't spend a single night apart from you, much less two?" he asked ruefully. It was true, I thought; my bed hadn't been slept in for quite some time. Either of my beds.

Now Ivan looked uncomfortable, and returned to his contemplation of the uncovered pipes and ducts zigzagging across the ceiling, his long artist's fingers tracing lazy circles on my skin.

"The man I'm meeting with is in the habit of providing ... companionship ... for those associates who will be his overnight guests," he said finally. "Though this has not be an issue in the past ..." – I wasn't sure I wanted to hear this part – "... I find myself ... reluctant to accept his hospitality this time. I'm assuming that you might not appreciate his offer to me either."

"Nope. Not so much," I agreed. In fact, just the thought of Ivan taking some other woman to his bed was making my blood boil and every muscle in my body tense for a fight. "I don't suppose you could just tell him you're seeing someone?"

"He would not see that as a reason to refuse taking a guest or two to my cabin."

Or two?! "Wow. He sounds like a real prince."

Ivan scratched his stubbled jaw. "I guess he is, in a way; he's just not a particularly charming one."

Though I had suspected that we were discussing one of the Santiagos, Ivan calling the man he would be meeting a "prince" confirmed that it was Emilio, not the patriarch, Esteban. From everything I'd heard about the heir apparent to the Santiago cartel throne, a little prostitution or even sex trafficking probably wouldn't be the worst of what could be happening on that boat. And Mateo might be right to be concerned.

"But if you do bring me, this guy's going to be okay with your new girlfriend showing up to a meeting?"

"No, not ordinarily, but I think there might be a way to manage it," he said thoughtfully. "It all hinges on how we present you."

"Meaning?"

He shook his head slightly. "I'm still working out the details."

I traced a jet-tipped finger to the slight cleft in his chin and smiled archly. "So does that mean I'm going to Miami?"

He laughed, a bit surprised. "I guess it does." Suddenly he grabbed my wrist and rolled on top of me, quickly snagging my other arm to press my hands up over my head. He took a moment to admire what the position was doing to my breasts.

"What are you doing?" I laughed, startled but undeniably aroused by his abrupt shift from pensive to passionate.

"I told you," he said, grasping both my wrists in a single large hand. "We're going to find out how you like a little forced helplessness."

"Oh, I don't think I ... oh," I broke off as his deft fingers slid between my legs. "Well, I guess I could give it a try."