Traitorous Attraction. C.J. Miller

Aiden had painted. “He told me you had a difficult childhood.”

      Connor’s back went ramrod straight. She knew immediately she had crossed a line. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tread on a sore subject,” she said.

      “I don’t like to talk about the past. Our childhood has nothing to do with the present,” he said.

      She disagreed. Perhaps Connor had put bad memories behind him, but it still affected him. His problems trusting were deep-seated. “It doesn’t have to do with the mission,” she said, striving for neutral. Aiden had told her that he’d implored his brother not to live alone, not to shut out the world, but Connor didn’t listen. He had his own thoughts and feelings about life and he clung to them.

      “I shouldn’t have said anything. I was just telling you what I knew about Aiden,” Kate said.

      “Aiden’s perspective isn’t always accurate. We’ll get our tickets tomorrow.” He’d moved the conversation along. “I don’t want to let on to anyone about our plans. Let’s see what we can find to eat around here,” Connor said. He slipped his arm around her shoulder in a proprietary gesture. Heat crackled between them. Or was this one-sided? Completely in her head? Kate had never before been this self-doubting about a man. Most of the time, a man’s attention on her was take it or leave it. Whenever she’d had strong chemistry with someone in the past, they had felt the same. With Connor, she didn’t know where she stood. Some moments, it was as if he couldn’t have cared less about her. Other times, they behaved as a united team. The polarity confused her, and confusion wasn’t an emotion she embraced.

      When she tried to shrug him off, he repositioned his arm and pulled her closer. Lowering his face to her ear, he whispered, “Interested people are watching. I want to make it clear to everyone that you are mine. Otherwise, you’ll have visitors.”

      She’d read too much into his casual gesture. Kate turned to look at him. “I think it’s obvious we’re together.”

      “It’s not obvious what our relationship is.”

      “That’s because we don’t know what our relationship is. How can anyone else?” Kate asked, hearing the heat in her voice and throwing some ice on it.

      “I wasn’t aware we had a relationship that needed defining. Our reasons for being together are clear. We have to find my brother and you’re holding the information hostage. I need to keep you, and therefore the information, safe.”

      Kate mentally shook herself. Imagining an innocent touch was a hint of smoldering emotion just below the surface was ridiculous. “You make it sound like I have a choice. You’re not easy to work with. I had to make sure you brought me along.”

      “Now that you’re here, do you regret it?”

      Kate looked around her. She had never been to a place like this and she hoped to never be again. “I don’t regret it. I want to find Aiden. Besides, I have a feeling Rosario isn’t the most difficult part of this trip. The worst is yet to come.”

      Connor laughed and slapped her on the back. “That’s the spirit, Kate. Now you’re thinking like a Sphere agent.”

      * * *

      Their food options were slim. A nearby tavern served meals, the scent of greasy meat and peppers carrying across the street. In the heat, it was borderline nauseating.

      “We’ll try there,” Connor said.

      It was better than eating nothing or foraging in the jungle for food. Crossing to the one-story wood building, they stepped inside, the door brushing against a bell hanging over it. Every eye in the room turned to them. Connor appeared not to notice, though she knew otherwise. Kate’s nerves jangled and heat fanned up her back. Her boots stuck to the floor as they walked.

      Connor took a seat at the bar, his back to the wall. Nailed in the center of the dartboard posted on the wall was a picture of el presidente, his face pocked with dart punctures. The people of the town weren’t hiding whom they supported, though Kate would be careful not to openly take anyone’s side. El presidente could have moles planted everywhere, and she and Connor didn’t want to invite attention.

      Kate sat next to Connor and ignored the stickiness of the seat. She’d probably have to burn these clothes after this trip and she wouldn’t worry about cleanliness now.

      They ordered from a whiteboard posted behind the bar where two options were scrawled: enchiladas spicy and enchiladas fire. Kate chose the first and Connor the latter. With a side of beer, Connor seemed as though he was perfectly relaxed on the hard stool, his back propped against a wall that Kate wouldn’t have touched. Everything in the bar looked smeared with grease, booze or sweat.

      “Enjoying your food?” Connor asked.

      Though it was greasier than she would have preferred, she was hungry. “It’s good.” Her voice carried and she had no intention of insulting the owner. She reached to her side to check the time on her phone and frowned when she remembered Connor had made her throw away everything.

      “Missing it?” Connor asked.

      Not as much as she would have expected. It provided security in knowing help was a phone call away. Now help was next to her in the form of a good-looking, but slightly crabby, operative. “Habit. It’s useful.”

      “I don’t know how you can stand to be plugged in all day. I see people staring at those things like it’s their whole world. What about interacting with the people around you?”

      He was one to talk. “The man who lives like a hermit has a criticism about socializing electronically?” Kate asked.

      He shrugged. “Carrying those things around and staring at them will get you killed. You’ve got to be aware of what’s happening around you.”

      No sympathy, then, from him. Her email and text messages would have to wait until they found Aiden. Would her boss have tried to contact her to let her know she was fired? She pressed away the anxiety that threatened to wrap around her. What difference did it make to read an email or listen to a voice mail? Her career with Sphere was over. Period.

      The door to the bar opened and a man strolled in. He wore a black bandanna around his heavily tattooed neck. Her instincts told her he was dangerous and Kate watched him from the corner of her eye. After looking around the room, the man strutted to the bar and leaned over it. “How much?” he asked in a low voice, his mouth close to her ear.

      Kate turned to him in surprise. He had a snake tattoo that ran from his neck, disappeared under his black sleeveless T-shirt and reappeared on both arms. “The lunch? It was six—”

      “No,” the man said, a faint hint of indignation crossing his face. “How much for an hour with you?”

      Kate stared for a long moment before she processed his question. She waited for Connor to say something and glanced at him. He had an amused look on his face, but he hadn’t moved to interfere.

      “I am not for sale,” she said, the words coming out in a stutter. Did she look like a prostitute? The clothes she had purchased in town and had changed into weren’t anything close to advertising sex. They were men’s clothes.

      “I’ll make it worth your while,” the Snake Man said. He ran his finger along her hand.

      Kate snatched her hand away. Worth her while? There wasn’t enough money in the world to make her sell herself to someone. She narrowed her gaze and lifted her chin. “I am not for sale,” she repeated. She had never encountered anything as overtly insulting as this man’s suggestion.

      The Snake Man looked at Connor. “Tell your woman to watch her mouth.”

      As though Connor was her pimp? The idea of it disgusted her.

      Connor took a long pull of his beer. “She’s not interested. Move on.”

      The Snake Man grabbed a chunk of Kate’s hair, and Connor was on his feet in a split second. Kate cringed,