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Marie, Laura - Miss: Senorita and the Soldado [The Miss Series 2] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) by Laura Marie Page B
Authors: Laura Marie
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pin-up model. What man wouldn’t want to possess beauty like that? He turned back towards the door.
In his line of work, there was never any time for a relationship, dating, or even getting to know a woman even if he wanted to. He wasn’t getting any younger, but he was good at his job and the money was insane.
He had an uncomfortable feeling in his gut that he didn’t recognize and he didn’t like it one bit. Every time he looked at Elloisa, he felt it and it pissed him off.
“Hurry up!” he whispered his anger through clenched teeth. Then he heard her exasperated exhale.
Trouble. She was nothing but trouble.
* * * *
Elloisa grabbed her socks and boots then sat on the edge of the bed to put them on.
She didn’t want to trust this man. She didn’t want to be told what to do. She had her own plan. What the hell was wrong with it? She asked herself a bunch of questions then stood up from the bed.
The man was standing there watching her, staring with those brown eyes as if he was memorizing her body or could see through to her soul. What the frig? The thought warmed her. What the hell was wrong with her? How could she feel an attraction to a stranger, a man with a gun who had yet to identify himself?
He gave her the once-over. “Put on a sweater. Do you have one?”
Even that look caused warmth in her belly.
She grabbed one from her bag then gathered the rest of her things. “Let’s go.” He took her by the elbow and led her into the entryway.
They walked through the darkness, and he kept her close to him.
Although she had no idea who this man was, something deep inside told her to believe that he would do her no harm. She inhaled. He was so close to her, she could smell him. The aroma of outdoors and a slightly woodsy scent swept through her nostrils. It reminded her of a campfire and the smell of freshly burned wood. He was strong, in great physical condition from what she could tell when his chest wedged against her own. Solid muscle, an athlete or an ‘indigno de confianza.’ But if he was as untrustworthy as the locals called them, then why was he here? Perhaps Father Zipotto needed to initiate the backup plan after all. Elloisa wondered why the priest hadn’t come himself to tell her. Then again, perhaps the first attacker had caused the priest harm. Many thoughts went through her mind, but they all led back to finding out who this man leading her to the desert was.
* * * *
“You know my name, so what’s yours and who are you?”
They continued to walk through the darkness. The stranger wore his hat down low over his eyes. He was mysterious but also not one to mess with. He had used little of his strength to restrain her earlier. He had killed her attacker in a half a second. That kind of training, physical condition, and skill came with training and practice. She stopped and stood still.
She grabbed his arm to stop him, and he abruptly looked down at her.
She faltered a moment as the massive six-foot-plus frame loomed over her. The dark black military outfit was intimidating as hell. Clearing her throat, she gathered her temper and gall.
“¿Quièn eres? La Migra…DEA…CIA? ¡Dime! ¿Quièn te emplea? ¡Hijo de puta!” She was angry as hell and demanded to know who he was and who he worked for. It took them damn long enough to come to her aide. She didn’t need any of them. She was escaping on her own and she didn’t need this guy.
He read her anger immediately but he didn’t seem to give a shit as he grabbed her, pulling her arms behind her back. Then he held her face with his hand.
“I’ll explain everything once we’re across the border,” he stated with clenched teeth as if she was pissing him off.
Well, she was damn pissed herself, and she didn’t need this asshole screwing up her plans.
“I don’t want your help, none of you, whoever you’re working for. Es demasiado poco y demasiado tarde. It’s too little too late.” She attempted to pull her hands away
In his line of work, there was never any time for a relationship, dating, or even getting to know a woman even if he wanted to. He wasn’t getting any younger, but he was good at his job and the money was insane.
He had an uncomfortable feeling in his gut that he didn’t recognize and he didn’t like it one bit. Every time he looked at Elloisa, he felt it and it pissed him off.
“Hurry up!” he whispered his anger through clenched teeth. Then he heard her exasperated exhale.
Trouble. She was nothing but trouble.
* * * *
Elloisa grabbed her socks and boots then sat on the edge of the bed to put them on.
She didn’t want to trust this man. She didn’t want to be told what to do. She had her own plan. What the hell was wrong with it? She asked herself a bunch of questions then stood up from the bed.
The man was standing there watching her, staring with those brown eyes as if he was memorizing her body or could see through to her soul. What the frig? The thought warmed her. What the hell was wrong with her? How could she feel an attraction to a stranger, a man with a gun who had yet to identify himself?
He gave her the once-over. “Put on a sweater. Do you have one?”
Even that look caused warmth in her belly.
She grabbed one from her bag then gathered the rest of her things. “Let’s go.” He took her by the elbow and led her into the entryway.
They walked through the darkness, and he kept her close to him.
Although she had no idea who this man was, something deep inside told her to believe that he would do her no harm. She inhaled. He was so close to her, she could smell him. The aroma of outdoors and a slightly woodsy scent swept through her nostrils. It reminded her of a campfire and the smell of freshly burned wood. He was strong, in great physical condition from what she could tell when his chest wedged against her own. Solid muscle, an athlete or an ‘indigno de confianza.’ But if he was as untrustworthy as the locals called them, then why was he here? Perhaps Father Zipotto needed to initiate the backup plan after all. Elloisa wondered why the priest hadn’t come himself to tell her. Then again, perhaps the first attacker had caused the priest harm. Many thoughts went through her mind, but they all led back to finding out who this man leading her to the desert was.
* * * *
“You know my name, so what’s yours and who are you?”
They continued to walk through the darkness. The stranger wore his hat down low over his eyes. He was mysterious but also not one to mess with. He had used little of his strength to restrain her earlier. He had killed her attacker in a half a second. That kind of training, physical condition, and skill came with training and practice. She stopped and stood still.
She grabbed his arm to stop him, and he abruptly looked down at her.
She faltered a moment as the massive six-foot-plus frame loomed over her. The dark black military outfit was intimidating as hell. Clearing her throat, she gathered her temper and gall.
“¿Quièn eres? La Migra…DEA…CIA? ¡Dime! ¿Quièn te emplea? ¡Hijo de puta!” She was angry as hell and demanded to know who he was and who he worked for. It took them damn long enough to come to her aide. She didn’t need any of them. She was escaping on her own and she didn’t need this guy.
He read her anger immediately but he didn’t seem to give a shit as he grabbed her, pulling her arms behind her back. Then he held her face with his hand.
“I’ll explain everything once we’re across the border,” he stated with clenched teeth as if she was pissing him off.
Well, she was damn pissed herself, and she didn’t need this asshole screwing up her plans.
“I don’t want your help, none of you, whoever you’re working for. Es demasiado poco y demasiado tarde. It’s too little too late.” She attempted to pull her hands away
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