Page 13

Chapter Twelve

T he restaurant had a bright and inviting area with a white stone and weathered wood bar stuffed to the brim with various liquors. High-top tables and standard tables spilled into the open outdoor terrace. Many people were lounging inside and even more outside. No Richard or Brie in sight.

“Pretty busy,” I said, searching for my target. Which one was Brandon? I secured my braid with the black tie that I wore on my wrist. A red mark left by the tie on my skin stung, and I rubbed it nervously, then my fingers found the bracelet and turned it, gently pressing on the stones.

“You ready?” Andrew’s hand was on my lower back, his breath a warm flutter against my neck.

Nope.

“Yep.”

“Brandon’s wearing a blue polo shirt and staring at his phone. Keep your phone close. I’ll call you when I’m done or if I need more time.”

Brandon was of medium build, with wavy brown hair, and glasses. He was cute enough, maybe even resembled Ryan Reynolds. I liked Ryan. I could do it.

I stepped out of the view of the bar, my skin cold from where my wet hair had left the fabric damp. “What do I say to him?”

Andrew gaped at me. “I don’t know. Whatever you say when you want to start a conversation with a guy you like.”

“But I don’t like him. And usually, guys approach me and start to chat.”

“Great.” Andrew smiled wide. “Then use whatever they’ve said to you.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Hmm, that should be easy.” I tapped a finger on my chin as if I was thinking hard. “Should I say ‘Are you a bank loan? Cuz you have my interest.’ or ‘If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put U and I together.’”

Andrew’s lips pressed into a tight line, his face expressing marginal annoyance.

“Or wait, here is my favorite of all time.” I folded my arms like a genie. “‘Well, here I am. What are your other two wishes?’”

“There are my love birds,” William said, coming toward us.

Not funny, William . I shot him a look.

“Any luck with the tiles?”

Andrew faced William. “How would you start a conversation with a stranger if you needed to toy with him for an hour or more?”

Confusion passed over William’s face. “Are you serious? With your sultry facade?—”

“Not me. Her.”

William’s hazel eyes cut to me, and he barked a laugh. “Her? Flirting?”

I blew out an irritable puff. “What is that supposed to mean? I can flirt if I need to flirt. Actually, I don’t even need to say anything. I can do this.”

My hands unfastened the top button of my dress. My medium-sized breasts were nicely pushed together—thanks to bra magic—and my skin had enough tan to radiate against the white fabric of my dress. Andrew’s gaze dropped to my now more ample cleavage, but he quickly averted his eyes.

I took a bracing breath and squared my shoulders. This was such a bad idea.

“I can do this,” I mumbled, but my feet stayed rooted to the floor.

William stepped around me and peered into the restaurant. “Which one is your prey?”

“The—”

“OMG!” William gasped and brought his hand to his heart. “The handsome guy from the Santa Marta hotel is at the bar. What are the chances we meet again?”

“Who is he?” I asked, staring at the bar.

“In the blue polo shirt,” William said.

“That’s the prey.”

William waved his hand in the air. “I got it.”

“Wait,” Andrew said. “He doesn’t know that you’re with us. Richard and Brie only saw Adriana with me. Just make up a story about who you are and why you’re here.”

“Gotcha.” William winked and strolled in Brandon’s direction. He placed his hand on Brandon’s shoulder, said something to him, which made Brandon laugh, and the next second William was on the chair next to Brandon, carrying on a conversation. How in the world…? No wonder William’s clinic had more clients than it could handle, with people parking their names on the client’s waiting list.

“No time to waste.” Andrew gently took me by my elbow and moved us toward the doors leading to the terrace.

As if we were on a pleasant walk, Andrew and I navigated through the spectacular grounds. I scanned our surroundings, searching for the short Barbie doll and her troll husband. At the end of the garden, Andrew pushed through the opening of bushes, and I did the same. Here the grounds were lower, and the building appeared much grander from this view. We weaved through trees, made our way around the building, and soon came to a stop.

“That’s his room.” Andrew pointed up at the tall windows about six feet in the air.

“Okay. Now what?” I craned my neck to spy our point of entrance.

Bribing cleaning staff would have been much easier. But here we were.

Andrew studied four windows, then lifted his arms and pushed in the center where the panels met. The window moved but didn’t open. He applied more pressure, rocking panels several times. The sound of wood snapping punctured the air, and then the window was ajar.

“How did you know it would open?” I turned to make sure no one was nearby. The coast was clear.

“These aren’t original to the building, but about two centuries old. I checked our rooms, and they had the same weak latch.” Andrew grabbed onto the windowsill, pulled himself up, and peered into the room, his shirt doing nothing to hide his taut shoulder and back muscles underneath the fabric. And at the sight of his tight ass, a hot tremor flowed over my body.

“Seems like no one is inside.” Andrew dropped to the ground and stepped back. “Ladies first.”

“Why should I go first?”

“Because I need to push you.”

The top of my head didn’t come close to the window. I could reach a lower part of the casing, but there was no way I could pull myself up. My eyes searched the manicured lawn and flowering bushes near us for anything to stand on, but I came up empty.

And of course, I was wearing a dress.

“Fine, but don’t you dare glance up.” I pointed my finger at his face.

Andrew closed his eyes, shaking his head. “You should either get a pair of pants or get over yourself.”

“Get over myself?” I said incredulously.

“If it makes you feel better, I’m not into small-bottomed women who like lacy panties with a yellow trim,” he said with a straight face and in a matter-of-fact tone. I gasped. I had worn yellow trim panties the day we’d played grave robbers.

My cheeks burned, and my nose twitched, but I ignored it as I sucked in the air. “You said you didn’t see anything in the church,” I whisper-yelled at him. “And for your information, my bottom is not small. It’s a very nice size, fuck you very much.” I planted my fists on my hips. “Oh, and you maybe should stop asking me to do stupid shit like crawling through the windows into someone else’s room.”

One of his eyebrows arched, and a hint of a lopsided grin grew across his face. “Are you done?”

I glared at him without blinking. “If you give me a second, I’ll come up with more.”

“While you’re thinking, grab onto the windowsill, and I’ll lift you.”

My palms grew damp, and swallowing my anxiety about breaking-in, I turned to the wall, stretching my arms up. My fingers barely touched the wooden frame. Andrew stepped to me, and the heat of his body radiated through my cotton dress. The whiff of his lemon soap and musk cologne set off a shiver down my spine first, and when his large warm palms settled on each side of my waist, a different feeling knocked my anxiety out of the way and took control of my nervous system, igniting it and readying my body to burst into flames.

“Were you a cheerleader in high school?” he said low into my ear. The closeness of his lips to my skin and the hum of his voice made me unbalanced. I should be pissed at him, but instead, I had a mad desire to lean back and press my body against his, tilting my head sideways and exposing more of my neck.

I finally registered what he’d asked and I scoffed. “Oh god, no.”

“Why did you say it like that?” Andrew’s fingers shifted; his grip got firmer, but not restricting.

I peered at him. His face was too close to mine. An inch more and I could rub my nose against his. Involuntarily, my gaze dropped to his mouth, and when I dragged my eyes back to his, he was staring at my lips.

“Cheerleading requires a lot of money and after-school time.” I turned away. “I didn’t have either. Now let’s do this.”

I used every muscle to push off the ground at the same time Andrew lifted me, and as I gained momentum, my arms worked hard to pull up. Andrew’s hands gripped my ankles, and with his extra shove, I hoisted my body over the window ledge.

I walked on my hands the rest of the way until I was entirely inside the room. Before I had a chance to stand, Andrew appeared in the window like a limber feline. An attractive cat that every cat lady would like to keep.

“How do you crawl through the window so effortlessly?” I said, breathless, standing up.

“It gets easier each time.” He brought the window panels together, closing them. “There’s no time to fix the lock, but at least it’ll appear shut.”

The room had a slightly jarring wallpaper with large, bright green palm tree leaves, a four-poster king-size bed with unmade white bedding, and a man’s shirt carelessly thrown on top. A couch and two side tables separated this area from the living space.

We roamed the suite, focusing on the floor and studying its tiles. Andrew crawled under the bed while I flipped the floor mats on each side. Then we moved the nightstands, and after that we migrated to the living space. We moved the sofa and glass coffee table out of the way and pulled the rug. Our search yielded no results. We pushed everything back in its place, and Andrew disappeared into the bathroom. I checked the small closet and double-checked the same exposed tiles we had already been over.

“Bollocks.” Andrew returned. “I was so sure it would be here.”

“Is it possible that, while renovating this hotel, the tile was damaged, and they replaced it and found the hidden place?” Or maybe Andrew was wrong, and we should have been looking for something else. “What if it’s not a tile?”

Andrew took in a deep breath.

“It said to kneel before love birds…” he muttered, running his hand through his hair. “The floor is original. We’re in the east part of the house. This was Augustine’s and Maria’s bedroom. He often wrote to her about how much he enjoyed watching the sunrise with her in their bed. The view out of these windows matches the description. This is the correct room.”

Something banged on the wall inside the closet. Then the sound of a door slammed shut. In the hallway, women’s voices chatting in Spanish grew louder. The sound of footsteps stopped outside Brandon’s room. Fear clawed up my throat. On the other side of the thick wooden door, the metal keys rattled. They knocked and called out something in Spanish. Housekeeping? We shouldn’t be in here. Metal keys clanged again.

A turn of a key.

My blood froze in my veins.

Click.

I looked at Andrew, and his face was a replica of my fear.

Time stood still as the door creaked open.