Stranger Danger (19 page)

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Authors: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

BOOK: Stranger Danger
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Her will to fight surged through her body and she
struggled through layers of darkness, one at a time.
 
Sara
paused,
her
eyes closed, and listened as the prayer stopped.
 
Before, everything audible sounded muffled,
but she heard now with clarity.

“You should get some rest,
hermano.
 
You’ll be in the
hospital too if you don’t.”

“I can’t.” Santiago sounded shattered, his voice a
ghost of what she remembered. “I can’t, Luis.”

“Then you need to eat something.
 
At least go get some coffee, Santiago. The
doctor said she should recover.”

“She almost died, Luis. And, I won’t leave her,
not until she wakes up.”

“Will you eat a sandwich if I bring one to you?”
Luis sounded worried and exasperated. “I’ll bring you one and a cup of coffee.
 
If you want, I’ll even sneak in some
tequila.”

Santiago made a faint, choking sound and she
realized it was a dry laugh. “
Si,
Luis.
I’ll eat something or try if you bring it to me.
But no
tequila, not yet.
Gracias.”


De nada.”

Her awareness increased.
 
Sara heard the soft whoosh as a door opened,
then shut.
 
Her ears caught the small
beeps and other sounds of a hospital room.
 
She inhaled an antiseptic odor and listened as Santiago abandoned the
words of the formal prayer to speak from his heart.
 
Although he spoke Spanish, a tongue she knew
well enough, her mind translated his heartfelt prayers, and his pleas, into
English.
 
After a long while, he shifted
from prayer to declarations of love for her.
 
“You are my life,” he croaked in a hoarse whisper. “You’re my heart and
soul.
 
Everything I’ve done, I did so we
could be together, to have the life I dreamed of since I was a teenager but
without my little doll, my Sara, my heart, it’s all nothing.”

His love brought light into her darkness and she
sought it.
 
With effort and stubborn
will, Sara forced her way through all the layers.
 
She opened her eyes and when she could focus,
she saw Santiago kneeling beside her bed.
 
His head rested against the mattress, face hidden from view.
 
His shoulders quivered as he wept, still
mumbling words of love alternating with more prayers.

Santiago clutched her left hand in his grasp and she
concentrated on wrapping her fingers around his.
 
He didn’t seem to notice so she forced words
through her dry, aching throat.
 
“Santiago,
mi corazon,”
she whispered.
 

Te amo,
darling,
te amo.”

He stilled and lifted his head.
 
Sara tried to smile at him, but his grin
outshone her feeble efforts. “Sara, oh,
la
muñequita,”
he cried.

Gracias a
dios
!”

Then he pulled himself upright, still holding her
hand tightly, and covered her face with butterfly kisses.
 
He kissed her mouth last of all, so gentle
and light it was no more than a breath.
 
He sat on the edge of the bed, careful of the lowered rail, and cupped
her cheek with his free hand. “You scared me, Sarita. You were shot,
querida,
and almost bled to death.
 
I thought I was going to lose you.”

“Never,” she said. Her throat hurt and she was so
thirsty. “Are you okay?”


Si
, now I
am.”

She touched his face with feeble fingers.
 
His unshaven whiskers were rough beneath her
touch and he had dark circles beneath his eyes. He sported the black eye and
the cut she remembered.
 
She’d never seen
him look so haggard, not even after he’d been shot. “You look terrible.
 
Haven’t you slept?”

“No, not for three days.
 
I’ve waited for you to wake up,
querida.

“Where am I?”

His voice was so soft, so very tender. “You’re in
the hospital.”

Sara tried to roll her eyes. “I know that but where?
Tulsa?”


Si.
 
You’re in a room now, but you were in ICU
with a tube down your throat, hooked up to all kinds of monitors.”

No wonder her throat
ached.
 
“So what happened?”

“It’s over.”

“And?”

“Can’t it wait until you’re better?”

She shook her head, surprised at how much effort it
took. “I need the short version, now.”

“Enrique’s dead.
 
So are the rest of the gang members at the meeting. And the FBI bastard,
too but apparently Enrique handled him sometime before the other night. As far
as the official record, Javier is dead and I’m alive. And no one who matters
realizes Santiago was ever part of it. I can go back to the LAPD if I
want.
 
The FBI moved in about the time
you got shot.
 
It’s their investigation
now, but Luis and I are both cleared of any charges. The story is that you, me,
and Luis were here on a vacation, stumbled into a gang meeting, and got caught
in it.
 
Like I said, it’s over and I’m
free.

Her weary mind grasped the main points.
 
“Luis was right?”


Si.
 
I’d probably be dead if he hadn’t come to save me,
but I was mad he brought you there.”

“Don’t be.”

Santiago grinned. “He understood and I’m not, now.”

Remembering when he’d been shot, she said. “I’m not
as tough as you.”


Si,
maybe
not but you’re braver than me.”

 
Luis walked
into the room.
 
When he realized Sara had
roused, he smiled. “Thank God. Now my little brother can eat and sleep.
 
I thought I would have to bury him before I
could go home to LA.” He leaned over to plant a brother’s kiss on her forehead.
“I’m glad you’re recovering, Sara.”

A languid weakness overwhelmed her as she nodded.
 
“Could I have some water, please?”

Santiago poured a cup from the carafe on the table
and held it so she could drink it through a straw. Raising her head to manage
sapped her energy and it must’ve shown. “You’re getting tired,” he said. “Close
your eyes and sleep.
 
I’ll be here.”

“You need to rest, too.”

Luis interrupted. “He will.
 
He’ll eat,
then
he’ll
get some sleep.”
 
Santiago opened his
mouth to protest, but Luis held up one hand. “I’ll stay here with Sara for
awhile.”

“I’m not going to the hotel.”

“Sleep in the waiting room, then,” Luis said.
“Everyone else including me has.”

Sara watched, half-eyed, as Santiago devoured the
roast beef and cheese sandwich, drank the coffee, and ate the piece of
pie.
 
He kissed her, promised to be back
in a few hours, and left.
 
Luis took the
chair he’d vacated and she shut her eyes, asleep in minutes.

Two days later, the hospital dismissed her.
 
She and Santiago spent another five days in
the hotel in Owasso.
 
He pampered her
until she was so bored she threatened to start throwing things.
 
Then he took her home to Los Angeles, not to
her mother’s house or but to his place.
 

“It’s a simple, studio apartment,” he said as they
entered. “It’s not much. I haven’t been here much the last couple of years, but
I kept the rent paid to have a place to come back to when it was over.”

“I like it,” Sara told him.
 
“I don’t mind staying here for now, but I’d
rather not live here.”

He grinned. “Who says you would, anyway?”

She smiled back. “I’m saying I won’t.”

“I haven’t asked you something I want to, yet.”

Sara sat down on his sagging couch and gazed at the
profusion of bougainvillea blossoms outside the sliding glass door.
 
“So ask me.”

One of his eyebrows arched. “Here? I planned to take
you to the beach or somewhere pretty.”

“I’m too tired to go today and I don’t want to
wait.”

Santiago dropped to one knee and reached for her
hand. “I meant to make this romantic and perfect but you’re impatient,
la muñequita.
 
I love you and I’d like to ask if you’d
be my wife.”

Joy erupted and she wanted to laugh with
delight.
 
Instead, she spoke the single
word necessary. “Yes.
 
Si
, if you prefer.
 
Kiss me.”

“Not yet.” He reached into his pocket and took out a
ring box.
 
“I want to put this on your
finger.”

She held out her hand and he slid an exquisite diamond
solitaire ring onto her finger.
 
The
stone caught the sunlight streaming through the windows and sparkled.
 
“It’s beautiful, Santiago.
 
When did you have time to shop for it?”

“I’ve had it for years,” he said.
 
“I bought it for you a long time ago.”

Then he kissed her, slow and sweet, the heat
lingering on her lips then traveling through her body.
  

Te
quiero
,
Santiago,” she said. “I need you.”

He lifted her effortlessly into his arms and carried
her into his bedroom, mindful of her wounded leg.
 
He did everything, undressed her with gentle
hands, and settled her onto his king-sized bed.
 
Sara watched as he stripped, noted the bruise on his chest where the
slug meant to kill him had left a bruise, and forgot to think as he joined
her.
 
He didn’t kiss her again, not
yet.
 
Instead, Santiago stroked her body,
his fingers tender as they moved across her ultra-sensitive skin.
 
He touched her face with reverence, then
moved to fondle her breasts but with a slow hand, light and easy.
 

Santiago kissed the spot between her breasts and
then moved his lips to her throat.
 
His
warm mouth delivered sweet kisses, slow and heated at the base, then on each
side.
 
He used his teeth to nibble just
enough to evoke a surge of passion.
 

Sara’s need notched higher as Santiago shifted
position.
 
He rubbed her belly as he
headed downward to her v.
 
Mindful of her
sore thigh, he lowered his head between her legs and kissed her there.
 
His warm breath against her sweet spot
increased her need.
 
When he inserted his
tongue, she writhed in response, fingers clawing against the sheet.
 
Her hunger grew until it became almost
painful, the urgency sharp and consuming.

He didn’t hurry.
 
Instead, he rose and kissed her mouth.
 
Sara didn’t mind the taste of her own sex on his tongue.
 
Somehow it cemented them together all the
more.
 

La muñequita,”
he whispered. “Are you ready?”

“Oh, Lord, yes,” she moaned.
“Santiago,
please.”

She asked and he delivered.
 
He rose up, his cock proud and hard, and
entered her.
 
Her walls were slick and
ready as he eased in to pack her full.
 
Sara sighed as he filled her, then when he began to move, each motion as
graceful as a dance step, she cried out with delight.

Santiago took his time as he delivered wave after
wave of pleasure.
 
Each one took them
higher and brought them closer to release.
 
When it came, it was a tidal wave, a virtual rush of glory and
power.
 
Sara’s body spasmed with each
wonderful spiral and they came as one, bodies straining together until they
yielded to the intense orgasm.

Afterward, cuddled close in the California twilight,
they shared a comfortable silence, content and close.
 
When Santiago stirred, she reached out to
touch him. “Don’t get up, not yet.”

He laughed. “We can’t stay in bed forever,
chica.”

“I know but we can spend a few more minutes.”

“I’m not going far or leaving you, Sara.
 
You’ve got me for the rest of my life.”

His ring glittered on her finger, but his words
filled her heart. “Good.
 
That’s what I
want most of all. I always did and I was too stupid to realize it for so
long.
 
If you hadn’t come to my door,
when I thought you were some stranger, I’d still be in Bentonville, existing
but not living.”

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