Page 13 of South of Justice

She blinked at him. When he continued to watch her calmly, with no hint of anything amiss in his expression, she got to her feet, trying not to lose her balance in her high heels on the thick rug. Did he…want to shake her hand or something?

Javier watched her calmly, arms still spread across his chair. He tilted his head slightly, then murmured, “Now, get on your hands and knees for me.”

The words hung there, impossible.

“Then crawl. Around the desk. To me.”

Lucía felt heat flood her cheeks, confusion and indignation surging.

He waited. Calm. Relaxed. Black eyes steady and utterly unreadable.

Her lips parted, ready to speak, but she couldn’t even form the words. Beneath the mortification flooding her bloodstream was something else: an electric hum of danger and desire she didn’t understand.

What she did understand, was that this was most definitely not the time and place for it.

Then, after what felt like a full minute, he laughed softly.

“Ah,” he said, waving a hand as if brushing smoke from the air, “forgive me. That was…a joke. A poor one, I admit.”

He sat forward, reaching for a pen, all business now.

“Young talent is so serious these days,” he added smoothly. “I sometimes forget how intimidating I must seem.”

Lucía’s heart was still pounding. She gave a tight smile. Laughed a breathy, uncomfortable thing. Of course it was a joke.

Of course.

Javier signed something at the bottom of her file and closed it with a satisfying snap. “You’re hired,” he said simply.

He stood and extended his hand, his smile now cool and professional, as if nothing had just passed between them.

Lucía hesitated for a split second before taking it. His palm was warm, his fingers long, his grip firm.

Perfectly measured.

As she gathered her things and stepped towards the door, she felt his gaze on her back. When she glanced over her shoulder, just once, he was already reviewing the next file. All cool, polished composure.

But something about the look in his eyes when he first made that outrageous demand stayed with her. A line had been drawn between them, invisible but real.

Part of her told herself it had been fine. It had been a joke.

But another part, deep down, already knew: This was not a man who ever joked.

TEN

Ryan wentto the window and cracked it open. Outside, the Ensenada sun bounced off the corrugated roofs of neighboring buildings, casting hard-edged shadows into the alley below. A gull cried overhead. Somewhere down the block, a car horn blared, long and irritated. Normal sounds. Life continuing, as if the world hadn’t just shifted under his feet.

He leaned his forearms on the sill, feeling the heat of the frame sink into his skin. Five days. To track down a woman he’d never met.

He shoved away from the window and crossed the room, starting to pace. The tile floor was warm beneath his feet. He had to think like a marshal again.

Find Lucía Duarte.

But how? The name meant nothing. All he could deduce about her from the facts at hand was that she must have something someone wanted badly enough to snatch a kid off an American lawn to get it.

What are you going to do, Ryan?Run? Or hunt?

He sat on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. Sweat beaded at his temples, the coastal heat making the air feel heavier than it should.