Made in Mexico

“I must be a little off my game,” Luis said as if reading her mind, one corner of his tempting mouth tilted in a rueful smile. “I barely got away from them alive. Going back for my gear wasn’t an option.”

She shrugged. “Not my problem. I told Roarke I’d find you since you lost your comm gear, call for extraction and I did. End of story. Now we just wait for the chopper.”

He reached out a hand and stroked her tanned arm, his fingers doing a sensual dance on her skin that brought back heated memories of other times and other places. It took all her effort not to react.

“But I am your problem, right, mi amor? You still feel it, just as I do.”

She yanked her arm away. “I feel nothing. Let it go, Luis. I told you before I left. There’s no future for us.”

“Is that why you quit your job and ran to hide in this godforsaken place to be a guide? Hiding away in the middle of the Yucatan? El stupido!”

She bit her tongue to keep from answering. It would just precipitate another argument. “I’ve wiped every memory of you from my mind.”

His voice dropped. “But have you forgotten this?”

With the speed of a striking snake, he had her pinned beneath his body, crushing her against the thin sheet of fabric, her breasts compressed against his warm chest. The hardness of his thick erection pressed into her soft belly. His face was so close she could see the golden flecks in his dark eyes.

No! I won’t do this.

She pushed hard at his chest with no results. “Let me up.”

“No, mi amor. Not until we straighten some things out. You tell me there’s nothing between us, but I feel your nipples harden against my chest. I see the pulse beat hard at the hollow of your lovely throat. I’ll bet if I slipped my hand into the folds of your cunt, I’d find it dripping, wouldn’t I?” He tightened his grip. “Wouldn’t I?”