Yeah, Mari had made that crystal clear. “Why won’t she divorce him? I know she’s unhappy and thinks she has no other options, but damn, she’s still young and bright and kind.”
“And thoroughly stripped of her self-esteem. He’s left her dependent on him financially and emotionally. Until she figures out her options, we’re just making a bad situation worse.”
Kata gnawed on her lip. “You’re always so logical, and I know you’re right, but . . . it just breaks my heart. I wish I could do something.”
Mari hummed noncommittally, then reached into her briefcase to extract some papers. “I’m worried about you, as well.”
“Me?”
Spearing her with that older sister look, Mari nodded. “When you disappeared after the shooting, I called Ben. To say I was shocked that you’d married Hunter was an understatement. I didn’t tell Mamá, but . . .” She sighed in exasperation. “What were you thinking? You know almost nothing about him, and what Ben has told me—that Hunter is dominant and controlling—doesn’t give me a good feeling.”
“He’s dominant sexually.” Kata winced at the blush crawling up her face but forged on. “He’s not an asshole like Gordon,” she defended.
“Are you sure?” Mari, ever the level-headed attorney, got right to the heart of all of Kata’s concerns.
How could she convince her sister that it might walk and quack like a duck—but this time, it really wasn’t a duck? She wasn’t completely convinced herself. Hunter wasn’t mean-spirited like Gordon—but he possessed a ruthless streak. She had no idea what sort of husband that would make him.
Mari went on with her cross-examination. “Why couldn’t I find you after that shooting? I had no idea where you’d gone until you stopped to call.”
“Well, it’s partially my fault. There wasn’t a lot of time, but I also didn’t want you to fuss over me.”
“Hmm.” She didn’t sound convinced. “Would Hunter have let you tell us where he’d taken you?”
Kata winced. “Probably not.”
“Yet you’re assigning yourself the blame?” her sister asked incredulously. “Who does that sound like?”
Mamá, but . . . “After the shooting, Hunter didn’t want anyone knowing where I was, for safety’s sake. Since I was fine and you knew it, I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”
Mari raised a dark brow, looking decidedly skeptical.
“Look, I admit Hunter can be overbearing, but he’s not all bad. He makes me feel really special. Sometimes ... he says just the right thing.” She sighed. “And I melt all over.”
One thing Kata knew for sure, if she’d suffered her mother’s illness, Hunter would never leave her hospital room to watch CSI. He’d probably never leave her side, period.
Mari slanted a hard glance at Kata. “If you’ll remember, we liked Gordon once, too.”
That knocked Kata back in her chair. Mari was right. Years and years ago when her mother and Gordon had been dating, he’d been a peach. Once, he’d taken her, Mari, and Joaquin to an amusement park, then for ice cream later that night. He’d always brought candies and toys when picking up Mamá. He’d done magic tricks and sang karaoke, played Super Mario Brothers . . . And after Gordon and her mother had married, he’d slowly morphed into the asshole they all knew and hated.
“Kata, think about it. You don’t know anything about this guy except that he’s a Navy SEAL and good in bed.”
Great in bed, but Kata understood her sister’s point. She so wanted to believe that Mari was wrong that it was like a physical ache. But the warning dredged up all her own uncertainties and magnified them. Mari could be dead-on. Kata really didn’t know.
“He’s just . . . really protective,” she said, oddly determined to make her sister understand that Hunter had good qualities.
“He claims that he’s protecting you, but don’t you think that cutting off communication from all your loved ones and making you take a leave from your job is awfully extreme?”
“A professional assassin was after me.” Kata defended Hunter—even as Mari’s words sank in. Hadn’t Kata told him just yesterday that the marriage had been a rash mistake? So why was she trying to sway her sister?
“How do you know that isn’t what he told you so he could lock you away for himself?”
“Hunter wouldn’t lie about that. Besides, the shooter pushed his gun to the base of my skull.” Kata shivered just thinking about it.
“I’m not saying that you weren’t in danger. But how do you know it wasn’t one of Villarreal’s street punks or someone else you pissed off along the way, rather than an assassin? How does Hunter know?”
“The gunman told me that he’d been hired to kill me.”
Mari pressed her lips together. “Would a professional assassin bother to announce that? I’m concerned about your safety; don’t get me wrong. I panicked when I heard you’d nearly been shot. But Hunter’s behavior concerns me, too. I could be way off base here . . .” Her voice said she didn’t think so for a minute. “But you should think seriously of getting out of this marriage before he smothers you.”
Her sister’s words made Kata go numb from the gravity of the situation. Her own confusion weighed her down even more.
Mari finally held the sheaf of papers out to her. “I took the liberty of drawing these up earlier today.”
Kata took the papers with cold fingers and opened them. Petition for Divorce. Even though she’d talked to Hunter about ending it, seeing this document . . . Her knees buckled.
“All you have to do is sign them and get Hunter to do the same; then it’ll be over. If he really cares about you, he can always call you, date you like a normal guy, make the effort to get to know you. If he doesn’t, if he fights this like I know Gordon would fight Mamá, then ...”
Then she’d know. Thing was, she couldn’t picture Hunter just dating her. The way he’d immersed himself in her, tied them together almost immediately . . . he wouldn’t have bothered if he’d merely wanted to date. Besides, Kata had mentioned ending the marriage earlier, and Hunter had flatly refused. But Mari had a point, though Kata wished her sister didn’t. In fact, everything inside her resisted it. Then she looked at Mamá, pale and drained, lying frail in the hospital bed. A woman so unlike the vivacious mother she’d grown up with.
If she stayed with Hunter . . . could this be her in twenty years?
Kata clutched her middle, anger and confusion ripping her apart. She’d known Hunter for three days, and they’d been apart half that time. The thought of leaving him shouldn’t hurt so badly. But she already missed him now.
As she bit her lip, tears welled. She fought them, but the last few days and her mother’s ill health stacked on top of her until she struggled under the weight.
Mari crossed the distance between them and hugged her. “You like him?”
How did she answer that? What she felt went way beyond like. “I hate the way he argues, especially when he’s right. Then . . . two minutes later he’s everything I could have ever wanted and more, and . . .” She sobbed. “I don’t know if I want to go back to life without him.”
“Are you in love with him?” Mari sounded incredulous at the possibility.
For her sake, Kata wanted to say no. But she couldn’t. “I—I . . .” She blew out a deep breath. Part of her had been relieved when Hunter had been called away. Part of her had been terrified and bereft. “I don’t know.”
Mari looked shaken. “It’s possible?”
Given that Kata had never responded with such abandon to any other man? That everything inside her had begun dancing the samba when Hunter had said he loved her? “Maybe. But he scares the hell out of me.”
Her sister didn’t look at all pleased but somehow managed to smooth out her expression to something neutral. “I haven’t met him, so I should reserve judgment. But those papers give you power. Sign them, hermana. If there’s really something between you two, do this the right way, not by skulking off to a ratty chapel in Vegas for a drunken wedding. Get to know each other, meet your respective friends and family, then, when you’re ready, stand up in front of us all and profess your love.”
What Mari said made a hell of a lot of sense . . . in her sister’s ultra-logical world. Kata wasn’t wired like that; she didn’t make decisions with her head. And every emotion she had now was one huge jumble.
Kata gnawed on her lip again. She either needed to throw herself into this hypersonic relationship or end it now, before a decade passed and she was older or too dependent or—God forbid—had to drag kids through a divorce.
Kata put the papers in her purse. “I’ll think about it.”
Mari pursed her full, red mouth like she wanted to argue but merely nodded.
A moment later, Ben returned, juggling two cups of steaming coffee, and rubbernecked the room. “Gordon’s gone? That was a quick visit.”
“Mercifully, yes,” Kata murmured.
“Call me later.” Mari gathered her purse. “If I leave Carlos alone too long with the boys, Javi and Robby are likely to tie him up and burn the house down.”
Mari’s husband loved the boys, and sometimes discipline was shoved aside in favor of fun.
“Go,” she urged. “I’ll let you know if there’s any change with Mamá.”
“You need to rest, too.” Mari put on her older sister face. “Think about what I said.”
Kata nodded as Mari exited, her charcoal gray skirt swishing with each efficient step. Exhaustion set in. A million thoughts skimmed the top of Kata’s head, but she was too tired to actually grasp one. She needed a meal and sleep—and to decide what to do about Hunter.
“You all right?” Ben handed her a cup of coffee, then caressed her shoulder with a warm hand. “You want to talk about anything?”
The last person Kata wanted to discuss Hunter with was Ben. Her former friend-with-benefits wasn’t furious that her husband had stolen her—but he wasn’t thrilled, either.
“No, thanks.”
“But something is on your mind. I can see it on your face. Did Gordon say something that upset you? He’s such a prick.”
“I don’t care what Gordon says to me, but the way he treats Mamá is unforgiveable. If it’s the last damn thing I do, I will convince her to leave his sorry ass.”
Ben guided her over to the chair beside her mother’s bed, where tubes stuck out from everywhere and monitors beeped. As soon as her butt hit the ugly mint green vinyl, she focused on her mom.
She drank some of the coffee he’d given her with a sigh. “Thanks—for everything. Smuggling me away from Tyler’s place and watching my back, helping my mother get to the hospital, for not leaving my side since we got here.”
Setting aside his coffee, Ben shook his head and knelt in front of her. “That’s what friends are for. That”—he worked his hand up her thigh—“and other things. Kata, come home with me. You need a shower and sleep and someone to comfort you. I miss you. I don’t know what’s up with you and Hunter. And I don’t care.”
Once upon a time, she would have whispered an easy “yes.” Ben was so familiar and easy to be with. Strong arms; a laugh or two; pleasurable, if predictable, sex. A guaranteed orgasm.
But she wanted nothing to do with his offer now. Kata knew her indefinable feelings for Hunter were to blame. It made no sense. How could she feel this aching attachment to Hunter when he terrified her emotionally?
“Ben—”
Suddenly, a man with dark sunglasses swaggered into the room, exuding menace like an expensive cologne. Inky hair, head-to-toe black, and a mean SOB scowl all screamed, “Don’t fuck with me.”
Was he one of Villarreal’s men? Kata snatched up her phone to dial 911.
“Put it down,” he growled, his hard stare moving to Ben, who cupped her thigh. “Hunter will care very much that you’re propositioning his wife. Get your hand off her. Now.”
Ben scowled but didn’t move. “Who are you?”
“Someone more than happy to fuck up your face. Leave, or one of my buddies will set your truck on fire in the next two minutes if you’re not driving it off the lot.”
Sputtering, Ben jumped to his feet and glared at the stranger, a terrier taking on a pit bull. “Y-you can’t . . . Don’t touch my truck!”
The ominous stranger looked at his watch. “A minute forty-five. You’re wasting time.”
“How do I know you’re not going to hurt Kata?” Ben challenged, shoving her behind him.
Kata loved that Ben was willing to defend her, especially at the risk of losing his beloved truck. But he was going to get his ass kicked . . . or worse. She started dialing the phone.