Bad Boy (An Indecent Proposal) - J.C. Reed Page 0,1

him a piece of paper with the address of the hotel and what I would be willing to pay for the drive, mentally thanking the shop assistant for her advice to settle for a price before getting into any taxi in Mexico.

The driver looked the paper over, then nodded again. “Muy bien, pero le advierto que ahora mismo hay mucho tráfico por allí.” When he saw my confused expression, he explained. “Lots of traffic here, but I take a shortcut.”

Shortcut?

The old me would have said no.

It was safe to say she would not have traveled to Mexico at all.

But the new me?

Gone were the days of being pushed around. I wanted to take charge, to discover and find myself.

“Sure,” I said brightly, ignoring the pang of uneasiness settling in the pit of my stomach.

I just hoped his shortcut didn’t involve a drive through all the areas that were frequented by the drug cartels.

That could really happen.

“Gracias.” I slumped into the backseat, then leaned back exhausted, fanning myself with some old newspaper as the taxi sped off through the traffic.

The smell of the old car was repugnant, the décor colorful. The fact that there was a Virgin Mary bumper sticker and pictures of what I assumed were the old man’s kids and his wife consoled me a little.

He was religious.

He loved his family.

He was probably a hardworking man trying his best to make a living for his family.

People like him didn’t do bad stuff.

Then again, I was the idiot who fell for Chase Wright’s shit.

My knowledge of the human nature sucked.

I relaxed a little until I noticed the driver’s glance in the rearview mirror, catching me looking at his pictures.

“Are you married?” the man asked when he stopped at the traffic lights.

“Um…” I paused, watching the red lights ahead. Should I tell him the truth? I fiddled in my seat, nervously. “I am,” I said. “I mean, I only got married like yesterday.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t believe me. Of course he wouldn’t. What married woman would arrive at an airport—alone?

Obviously, the lying kind.

“Where’s your husband?” the driver asked.

“He’s waiting for me at the hotel.” I forced a smile to my lips, hoping it was convincing enough to fool him. “I work for a paper in the city,” I lied. “My boss called me in for some last minute changes. I was barely able to make it out of that office.” I waved my hand, like he’d know what I was talking about. “This is my first vacation in seven years. That’s how demanding she is.”

The man gave a short, humorless laugh, completely bored by my made up story.

I couldn’t blame him.

I was the worst liar ever.

“You will like it here,” he said. “But a young woman like you should always be in companion.”

“Yeah, I should be,” I muttered and turned my head back to the window, taking in the unknown streets, the unknown territory, a whole lot of unknown everything, some part of me wishing that I had asked Jude to come along with me.

***

Half an hour later, the taxi came to a halt in front of an old, whitewashed building surrounded by a tall wall and an iron wrought gate. I paid the driver and got out, making sure to tip him well in case he was related to some mafia boss who decided I had not paid enough in fares.

I mean, you never knew.

The last thing I needed was another bad surprise. The discovery that Chase was a bad boy who might be after my inheritance was already bad enough. Now I needed some days away from reality, from my old life. I needed time to think how I could possibly divorce him without breaking the stupid contract I’d signed.

And for that, I needed to be safe.

His terms had been quite clear: stay married to him for one year and engage in some sexual fantasies of his.

God, I couldn’t wait to get divorced.

Does that make me sound crazy?

At least I had negotiated the part about living with him. The way I saw it, I could spend a whole year abroad and never see him.

Pulling the heavy suitcases behind me, I greeted the uniformed security guard, and then I walked up the path to the hotel.

It wasn’t the luxury kind.

Far from it.

I would even go as far as saying that it was shabby, which wasn’t surprising given that it had been the cheapest hotel I could find.

With my credit cards maxed out I couldn’t afford more than a