Juan Carlos ran a hand over his smooth cheeks. He was so close to that list and that woman. How he wanted her now. A prize for his troubles. A bonus for the headache this American jaunt had caused him.

It wasn’t as if he assigned an underling. He sent a capable, lethal man. Diego had never disappointed before. He’d never needed punishment, encouragement, or extensive lessons. No, Diego wanted to be in good graces. He wanted to be a leader. He’d never given Juan Carlos a reason to plan for his execution. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Diego might have been a pupil, his very own puppet, but he was expendable. Just like all the rest.

Juan Carlos cracked his knuckles and knocked back the last of the amber liquor in his highball glass. “Have Alejandro brought to me.”

Someone always listened for his orders. His staff would find his number two and send for him immediately, though none of them would venture near the man unless requested. Alejandro looked like a gorilla, snarled like a barracuda, and stunk like a sweat-soaked gladiator under the high sun. If he weren’t a valuable resource, Juan Carlos wouldn’t let him within one hundred kilometers of his estates. But he was valuable, and he’d more than earned his title of second in command. Alejandro developed ways to torture that made him cringe.

Before he could refill his glass from the crystal decanter, Alejandro Suarez ambled into the room. An Uzi was draped over his shoulder like a child’s backpack, but nonetheless, he addressed Juan Carlos with a reverent tilt of his head. “You sent for me, Senor.”

“Diego is failing. If he’s not dead, he soon will be.”

Alejandro nodded. Perhaps hoping to carry out the death order.

“Do whatever it takes to bring me that woman and the list. You should fly out this afternoon. Head to Washington, DC. You can have access to any of my resources you should deem necessary.”

Alejandro smiled with the sadistic look Juan Carlos knew would fix his problems. His number two wanted the woman. He hadn’t given him a woman of his own in weeks. It was like tossing a meaty bone to a Rottweiler. A day later, he would be picking his teeth with a rib bone.

Juan Carlos hated to sacrifice his bestselling product, especially the assumed caliber of Mia Kensington. A little older than he liked, but she had shown fight. Men paid well for that attribute. But if Alejandro succeeded, he’d give the man whatever he wanted.

“Alejandro, mi amigo, if she’s to your liking, you may keep her as a reward for your continued excellence.” Without second thought to the tormented fate of the young woman, Juan Carlos returned to his desk to review a ledger.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Winters had a raw lump at the back of his throat since Mia had held Clara earlier in the day. And that kiss by the window didn’t help. Hell if he’d known he craved domestic bliss. Seeing her hold his kid knocked Mia intergalactic-style past the Milky Way.