“Small town.”
In one sense, this wasn’t good. Too difficult to go unnoticed. On the other hand, if everyone knew everyone’s business, she had a bigger chance of uncovering the truth.
“What do you want?” the woman asked.
“I’ll have a beer, and whatever’s on the menu for today.”
“What do you really want?”
“Just looking for customers.”
The woman laughed. “You won’t find any here.”
“All right.” Maya shrugged. She couldn’t ask about Tim’s girl without raising suspicion. “So, what’s the special?”
“Grilled chicken and potato skins.”
“Sounds good. What’s your name?”
The woman didn’t answer. She disappeared into the back and exited a short while later with a plate of food, which she dumped in front of Maya.
The food wasn’t half bad. The potatoes were crispy and the chicken tender. Maya took her time eating and finishing her beer, but still there was no sign of Tim’s pretty bed partner. It was dark when she paid and left.
On her way home, she walked past the house at the end of the street, but the windows were dark. She hung around the jetty for a while, and when it started to get late, she headed home.
She’d just undressed when her mobile phone beeped. She picked it up and read the text. It was from Tim.
Dinner, my place, Friday evening. I’m cooking. 8pm?
She threw the phone on the bed and logged onto the secure line on her tablet for her weekly report to Joss and Cain. She gave a quick update and logged off.
Only then did she pick up her phone again, typed, What’s on the menu? and pressed the send button.
Diving classes with Elvin and Jake continued. Tim had sent a text message to tell Maya he was back at his office in San José and to remind her that she hadn’t confirmed for Friday, as if he was worried she wouldn’t come. She replied with a polite thank you. It was a strange message, one a husband would send his wife, and Tim owed her no explanations. Not that she was complaining. It made it easier to know his exact whereabouts. If anything, it was a habit she’d make a point of cultivating.
Maya went for long jogs and swims in the mornings and evenings. She spent her nights in the pubs and bars, keeping her ear on the ground, but if anyone in Puerto Viejo knew anything about arms smuggling, they kept a tight lid on it. She even visited Mango a couple of times and hung out by the jetty with a fishing rod, but never saw the pretty girl.
When Friday arrived, she took extra care with her appearance. She wore a red dress that hinted at her cleavage and applied bronze eye shadow, mascara, and pale lipstick. Tim had sent a text message in the afternoon to say he’d pick her up at quarter to seven, so Maya left at six, taking her rented Jeep, and pulled up at Tim’s gate a few minutes later. She didn’t have to wait long to be buzzed in.
She brought the Jeep to a stop in a cloud of white dust. Cesar, who waited outside with his arms crossed over his chest, took a step back. The same five guards from her previous visit patrolled the garden. She opened her door and swung her legs down before fitting a pair of red pumps that she grabbed from the passenger seat. She took her handbag and made her way down the path.
Cesar regarded her approach with a frown. “You like to defy him, don’t you?”
“Defy? That’s not the word I’d use.” She walked past Cesar and climbed the steps to the veranda. “I just don’t take orders.”
Lee stood by the door, a bottle of water in his hand. “Evening, Miss Martin.” He also frowned, but his expression was more curious than disapproving. At least he seemed friendlier than Cesar. “Tim’s not ready—”
Ignoring him, she pushed past him into the house and went straight for the stairs that led to Tim’s bedroom. Either Lee was too baffled to stop her or didn’t deem it necessary. At the top of the staircase, she stopped to see if anyone was following. When nothing happened, she opened the bedroom door quietly and stepped inside. The sound of running water came from behind the en-suite bathroom door. She’d better make the best of whatever time she had to inspect the room. Lee, Cesar, or Frida could come looking for her any minute, telling her Tim’s bedroom was off limits.
She walked in a circle around the room. A giant bed stood in the center of the floor, facing a balcony with a Jacuzzi that overlooked the ocean. The curtains and sliding doors were open, letting in a cool breeze. The bed linen was coffee-colored, TF embroidered on the pillowcases in a darker chocolate-brown. The plush carpet was creamy beige. The rest of the room was bare. There wasn’t even a nightstand or lamp. She glanced at the ceiling. It was fitted with dim lights.
The water turned off in the shower. She decided to head to Tim’s study, but only got as far as the bed before Tim exited from the bathroom in a billow of steam, his hair wet. The sight made her mouth dry. A big drop of water rolled down his chest into the golden hair of his happy trail.
It was difficult to look away. All her intentions not to touch him flew out the balcony doors. She pulled her gaze up to his.
“Hi,” she said in a husky voice. At least she didn’t have to act. Every ounce of desire her body reflected was real.
Tim looked surprised for only a moment before he composed himself, and then he seemed pissed off. “I thought I told you I’d pick you up.”
Was he angry because she wasn’t supposed to be here, sniffing around his room? That was a good sign. It meant there was something he was hiding. Or was he put off because she’d disobeyed him?
She threw her bag onto the bed and crossed the floor until she stood flush against him. “You should know that a woman like me does what she wants.”
He trailed his gaze over her with a mixture of approval and discontent. He grabbed a fistful of her dreadlocks and pulled down gently. The sudden move surprised her. She uttered a small gasp.
Bringing his face close to hers, he said, “I know what kind of woman you are, Maya, and I know what you need.”
His breath was a warm tickle on her skin. She shivered with pleasure. “And what may that be?”
“A man who’s your match.” He moved his free hand down her side and rested it lightly on her hip. “A man who can love you gently,”—he pulled her roughly against him—“and a man who can fuck you hard.”
She showed nothing of the effect he had on her, of the burning sensation that coiled around her insides and all the way to her clit where it pinched nerve endings to throb with a slow pulse. It was hard to focus, but remembering the previous time and the premature ending to their date, she refrained from touching him. She didn’t lift her arms to wrap them around his neck as she wanted or trace the line of his lush lower lip with her tongue as she longed to do. She ignored all her cravings as she cocked her head, her arms hanging limply at her sides.
“Are you going to give me what I need?” she finally whispered.
His lips curved into a smile. Letting go of her hair, he curled his fingers around the back of her neck. “In due time.”
“Due time?”
“When you realize what you really want.”
“What is that?”
His smile was amused. “More than a shag.”
Son of a bitch. Cesar had run to Tim like a first grade tattletale and told him what she’d said.