So shehadn’timagined it earlier. When he’d been helping her to cool off, she’d opened her eyes to find him leaning over her, his lips so close to hers and . . .
But now the helicopter was on top of them, and there was time to think of nothing else. To her right, Zach got into position, lying on his belly, his head toward the top of the embankment, his legs spread wide, toes dug into the dirt. He adjusted something on his AK-47, another rifle at his side, spare magazines tucked in the back of his jeans.
The seconds crept by.
The metallic whirring of the chopper’s propeller.
The thrumming of her own heartbeat.
The cold weight of a gun in her hand.
Then the helicopter lifted into the sky, the deep pulse of its rotors disappearing into the distance.
CHAPTER 8
THE SUN WAS setting by the time Carlos finally arrived, the western horizon turning a pale shade of yellow. The pavement radiated heat from a day of relentless sun. In the distance, a pack of coyotes yipped and howled.
Zach had managed to make it through the past few hours without doing anything dangerously stupid—like kissing Natalie again. Not that it had been easy. He could still feel her on his lips, the raw current that had arced between them unlike anything he’d felt before. His body seemed to think that the only cure for this problem was another kiss, but he knew better. He should never have touched her in the first place.
It’s sexual attraction, McBride.
And it had him by the balls.
He cleared his mind, focused on the present, watching as Carlos climbed out of a white VW Jetta Europa and walked toward him.
“Do you trust him?” The tone of Natalie’s voice told Zach she didn’t.
Smart woman.
“Carlos knows better than to double-cross me.” The two pistols Zach had tucked in the back of his jeans were his insurance in case Carlos had forgotten that fact.
Zach had saved the kid’s life a few years back when Carlos had gotten himself in over his head with a couple of drug smugglers. Since then, Carlos had given up the narco trade and now ran a couple of chop shops. At times, he also served as Zach’s eyes and ears on the streets, a fact that was known only to Zach.
Wearing a few more gold chains around his neck than the last time Zach had seen him in person, Carlos stopped a good six feet away, his gaze shifting from Zach to Natalie. “¿Quién es la mamacita? ¿Está a la venta, también?”Who’s the babe? Is she for sale, too?
It was a joke, but it wasn’t a funny one.
Clearly having understood, Natalie moved sideways to stand behind Zach, her anxious reaction at being discussed like merchandise sparking an almost violent protective response inside Zach. His voice took on a warning tone. “Cuidado, Carlos. Ella está conmigo.”Watch yourself, Carlos. She’s with me.
Carlos stood up straighter, his gaze snapping back to Zach again, a hint of fear in his eyes. He’d fucked up, and he knew it. “Es exactamente lo que pidió. Las placas son legales. El tanque de gasolina está lleno.Déjeme ver las armas.”It’s exactly what you asked for. The plates are legal. The gas tank is full. Show me the guns.
Carlos held up the car keys like bait, his gaze drifting to Natalie again.
Zach dropped the duffel bag of firearms at Carlos’s feet, knowing that if anything could take the bastard’s eyes off her it would be weapons. “Hay seis pistolas y cuatro cuernos de chivo, además de amuniciones.”There are six pistols and four goat horns, plus ammunition.
Carlos knelt down, opened the bag, then drew out an AK, admiring it and smiling like a kid on Christmas morning, a gold tooth catching what was left of the light. “Me encantan estos pequeños cuernos de chivo.”I just love these little goat horns.
“Goat horn” was a strange thing to call an assault rifle, but given the curved shape of the magazine, Zach could understand it. Mexican slang was nothing if not colorful.
“¿Quieres decirme qué está pasando?”Want to tell me what’s going on?
“No.” Zach glanced at the black Chevy Silverado that idled in the distance, waiting to drive Carlos back to town. “Es tu hermano?”Is that your brother?
“Sí.” Carlos nodded, catching the strap of the duffel bag with his shoulder and starting to rise. “Puedes confiar en él.”You can trust him.
“No lo hago.”I don’t.Zach put his foot down on the duffel bag, holding it to the ground, almost pulling Carlos off balance in the process. “Las llaves. The keys. Give them to her. Natalie, take the keys, and start the engine.”
Natalie stepped out from behind him, took the keys from Carlos, whose gaze followed her as she ran to the car.