Into the Fray (Daring Escapes #3) - Margaret Daley Page 0,19

there the night his wife had been murdered. He was sick and tired of dead ends and wild goose chases. Whoever was the ringleader was powerful and influential with connections throughout Central and South America and even into the United States, and that person was ultimately responsible for his wife’s murder even if he hadn’t done the dirty deed himself.

“So why didn't you get any sleep?” she asked, a breathless quality to her question.

For a long moment, he assessed her. During their ride to this village, he’d wanted to let her know his real reason for coming with her, but he couldn’t get those words out. He’d learned to trust few people over the years. "Because I kept thinking about what happened to you and knew I wouldn't get any peace until I helped." Her curiosity and need to know everything was going to be a problem for him. He wouldn’t let another woman die while he tried to protect her.

* * *

Tory closed the door to the small bedroom and leaned back against the wooden barrier, her nerves quivering. As she scanned the area she would share with Guerrero, the quivering evolved into a panicky feeling that melted the strength in her legs. She gripped the doorknob to steady herself while her gaze fastened upon the single bed three steps opposite her and pushed up against the wall. Tory’s gaze veered away and lit upon the lone chair in the room next to a dresser with nicks and cuts in its dark wood.

An eight by ten-foot cell, she estimated and straightened, her petite frame, rigid with thoughts of the night to come. Avoiding the bed, she sat in the chair, positioning herself to face the door. She waited. He would be coming soon. She heard the laughter of the people in the next room and felt none of their cheer. Why was she so afraid? He was just a man. But the image of that man flashed into her mind, and she shivered.

"Don't kid yourself. He's more man than you've ever dealt with. You've avoided men like him for a reason—a strong alpha male just like your father. They take over your life." Another shudder ran the length of her spine, and she hugged her arms to her.

Memories inundated her, childhood memories that she had locked away, hoping never to touch again. Her father, General Robert Winters, was a force to be reckoned with. No one crossed him. Everything had to be done his way. Period. She had nearly suffocated under her father's domineering hand. When she had finally broken away, against his wishes, and gone to college to study to be an archaeologist, she had vowed she would never let a man rule her life again. She would make it in the world on her own and had done so successfully for the past seventeen years—until now, when she needed another's help.

The approaching footsteps alerted her, and she stiffened, dropping her arms to her sides, her hands curling into fists. The door creaked open. Her heart pounded in her ears like the rain against a tin roof.

Guerrero stood in the doorway for several seconds, a gun tucked into his tan pants. When he moved into the small bedroom, her taut body grew even more tense if that was possible. He had been at ease with Benito and his family at the dinner table. Many people had come to visit Guerrero after dinner. These villagers thought he was some kind of hero, their champion. A soldier. A warrior like his name indicated.

A vision of her father in his uniform the day she had left for college filled her thoughts. He had turned his back on her and had never directly spoken to her since that day. The sadness she held at bay swamped her for a few seconds until she pushed it back, along with the memories, into the deepest part of her mind.

"I thought I would never get away," Guerrero said, breaking the silence that surrounded Tory.

He looked toward her at the same time she focused on him. His presence filled the bedroom like the memories had a moment before. Dominating. Suffocating. Assuring. She did think if anyone could help her, he was the person. Juan had confirmed that, and she believed him. She’d glimpsed him in action in the alley, the hotel, and the marketplace.

"Everyone in the village paid you a visit," she said, struggling to calm her heart rate and her nerves.

“I haven’t been here for