Savage Love (Savage Trilogy #3) - Lisa Renee Jones Page 0,42
myself for the touch, I press my palm to his, and he all but drags me out of the car and into his arms. He tries to kiss me and I cover his lips with my hand. “Unless you want red lipstick on your face, I wouldn’t.”
“Hmmm,” he murmurs. “I guess the kisses can wait.” He sets me back from him and gives me a once over. “Stunning. Absolutely stunning.” He inches around me, leans into the car and speaks to the driver and then shuts the door. “Let’s go inside and get you some champagne.”
“Perfect,” I say, and he motions to the hotel door.
Someone opens it to allow us to enter the private passage. Gabriel motions me forward and I step inside to find a giant bald Hispanic man with intense brown eyes waiting on us. He's in a tuxedo, but for reasons I cannot explain, I know that he's not a guest. Gabriel joins me, his hands settling on my waist. “Honey, this is Alejandro. Your new bodyguard.”
And just that quickly, I know that nothing about my escape tonight is going to go as planned.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Savage
I pull my Porsche 911 into the hotel driveway just behind my father’s Mercedes and at the same time that Candace’s driver pulls the sedan to the side of the hotel, and private entrance. It’s all I can do not to follow her, but I resist for one reason: I know Gabriel is waiting for her there and I might just kill Honest fucked-up Gabe before he ever makes it into the building and that wouldn’t serve the bigger cause of saving the General and ending Tag.
I whip around my father and the line of cars waiting for valet services. My car needs to be close and easily accessed without anyone knowing I’ve left. I’ve just parked when Asher calls. “Did you get my text?”
“What fucking text?”
“When Gabriel exited his car tonight, he wasn’t alone.”
“He brought his fuck buddy?”
“No. It was a man who is now with Candace as well. He must have been in the car when Gabriel got in back to return to San Antonio.”
“Who’s the man?”
“Alejandro Rojas. He arrived in San Antonio with Pocher, but Pocher left without him. I sent you his photo and all we know of him which isn’t much. He’s out of New York, like Pocher.”
“I’ll call you back.” I disconnect and I eye the photo. One look at the asshole and I know he’s a private hire bodyguard and killer. His location and connection to Pocher drives me to one place. I forward the information to Kane Mendez and dial his number. He answers on the first ring. “Savage,” he greets.
“Look at your text messages.”
“I saw. What about him?”
“Who is he?”
“Where is he?”
“Too close to my woman for comfort. Who is he?” I repeat.
“Someone I would hire you to—handle.”
I curse.
“What’s the problem? You can’t handle him?”
“Fuck you, Kane.” I hang up and dial Adrian.
“Yo, man, what’s up?”
“Yo your fucking ass, Adrian. The big bald Mexican. He’s a killer and you will end up dead if you’re not careful.”
“I can handle him.”
“He’s not a man that shows up without a shit show planned in the future. If he’s too close to Candace, and you go at him, he might just fucking kill her. Do not make a mistake and get her killed.” I hang up and exit the car, intent on getting eyes on Candace right now.
With long, quick strides I travel the parking lot until I’m at the front door where I find my father waiting. He stands regal, still a powerful presence in a tuxedo or a pair of scrubs, and yet, the respect I once felt for him is long gone.
“Tonight will be interesting,” he greets dryly, once I’m standing toe to toe with him. “How many people do you think will be waiting for you to beat my ass again?”
“Everyone who knows you will be hoping I do,” I assure him.
“I’ve saved many lives, son.”
“And I’ve watched you take at least two. Shari Moore, who died on my table thanks to you and then, of course, my mother.”
“Says a man who makes a living killing people.”
I smirk. “You should remember that, old man. I do. And it could be you. Let’s go.” I motion toward the door.
He grabs my arm. “I don’t want to be your enemy. I’m only helping Tag to help you.”
“More like you’re trying to ease some level of guilt you believe you’re supposed to feel. Let’s go.”