“And you think you can relax in Lynchburg? I love Aunt Hattie but she yaks nonstop. You’d get more peace and quiet staying at an amusement park!”
A giggle tickled the back of Claudia’s throat. It didn’t matter how bad she felt, Max could always make her laugh. “Don’t bad-mouth Aunt Hattie. She’s the only family we’ve got left.”
“Then we’re in really bad shape!”
Claudia didn’t laugh, but Maxine did. Her laugh was smooth, easy, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. And she didn’t. Despite her present financial woes, she had a husband who loved her, a home in a gated community and not a single reporter camped outside her house.
“Picture it,” she said, spreading her hands out in front of her. “You stretched out on a beach, sipping cocktails under the hot Mexican sun, and being served fresh fruit by an Antonio Banderas look-alike with rock-hard abs and a tight ass!”
“That’s no way for a pregnant woman to talk.”
“Girl, please, I’m only a few months along. The babies can’t hear anything!”
Claudia shook her head at her sister.
“Go to Cabo and enjoy yourself,” Maxine instructed. “I promise you won’t be sorry.”
Famous for its breathtaking waterfalls and endless blue skies, Cabo San Lucas was reputed to be one of the most beautiful peninsulas on earth and a place Claudia had always wanted to see. But her furious work schedule left few hours to sleep, let alone travel to faraway lands.
“The Sea of Cortez Resort is world-class all the way. I damn near fainted when Royce carried me into our oceanfront suite. And who knows,” she said with a devilish smirk, “maybe you’ll meet someone while you’re down there. A night of passion with a sexy tourist is exactly what your sex-deprived ass needs.”
“I’d rather swim in shark-infested waters than indulge in a seedy holiday fling. After everything I’ve been through, the last thing I want is to get caught up with another no-good man.”
“There are still some good guys out there, and it’s high time you met somebody new.”
“My divorce was only finalized two weeks ago.”
“Yeah, but you’ve been legally separated for a year,” Maxine challenged, her tone accusatory. “I don’t know how you’ve gone that long without having sex. I need a man to keep me warm at night, or I’ll go insane!”
Claudia shrugged, conveying how little she cared about having a man in her bed. Since they were teens, her sister had treated dating like an amateur sport and, if not for getting knocked up by her boyfriend-turned-husband four months ago, she’d still be racking up numbers in her little black book. “Maybe I should go down to Cabo for a few weeks.”
“Of course you should!” Maxine nodded her head fervently, as if she was praising a small child. “The suite is in my name, but if you show two forms of ID you should be fine.”
“And if that doesn’t work?”
Her smile was sly. “Then flash some skin! That always works for me!”
“Could you be serious for one moment? I don’t want to fly all the way down to this resort only to be turned away.” Annoyed that her sister was making light of her being stranded, she decided to stick to her original plan. “Forget it. I’m going to Lynchburg. I don’t need any more stress, and I could see this whole Cabo thing blowing up in my face.”
“I’ll call the resort to let them know that you’re coming. How’s that?”
Maxine put the car in Park and hopped out. “I can’t wait to hear what you think of the suite, so give me a ring as soon as you get settled.”
Claudia didn’t know why, but getting out of the car took enormous effort. The strain of the last two weeks had finally caught up to her, and when she stood up she had to grip the door to keep from falling. Her travel bag felt heavy, as if someone had snuck twenty-pound weights inside, but she tossed it over her shoulder and smiled. “Thanks for everything, Max.”
“Have a safe trip and try not to worry about all the craziness that’s going on down here.” Maxine hugged her tight. “You’ve done nothing wrong, so stop persecuting yourself.”
Claudia nodded, told herself that her sister was right, but that didn’t stop her from feeling like a fugitive. And when she boarded the United plane bound for Washington, D.C., and saw her ex-husband’s picture on the front of the Richmond Times-Dispatch newspaper, her fears of being arrested and traipsed in front of the news media returned with a vengeance.
Chapter 2
Santiago Medina didn’t make it a habit to stare. Or to approach strangers at the airport, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the woman who had just entered the Dulles International Airport first-class lounge. He loved long hair, but her short, trendy hairstyle was stunning. And so were her almond-shaped eyes. They were so bright, so luminous, it was impossible for him to look away. She had to be a dancer, a performer, someone who made a living thrilling audiences on a Las Vegas stage. No way she was stuck behind a desk working a regular nine-to-five. Not with that radiant butterscotch skin, that oval face and those pretty, luscious lips.
His mouth dried, but Santiago doubted that water could quench his thirst. Ridiculously beautiful, she had a unique, ethereal look that made her stand out in the thick crowd of commuters. Her face was free of makeup, scrubbed clean, but her beauty was undeniable. He wanted to touch her. And not just because she had the slender shape of a ballerina and legs that stretched on for miles. He’d always been able to see with his heart what others couldn’t see with their eyes, and he sensed that this woman was in enormous pain. Sadness seeped from her pores. It enveloped her, hovered like a ghost. Her grief was palpable, real, so heavy the entire luxury lounge was cloaked in it.
The overhead lights flickered, and for a moment Santiago feared the power would go out. He glanced outside the window and released a heavy sigh. Rain shot down from somber gray clouds, and lightning bathed the sky in a blinding white hue. Thunder boomed, crashed, roared like a train flying down the tracks. His flight to Cabo San Lucas had been delayed—twice—and if the weather advisory for D.C. was lifted in the next twenty-four hours he’d consider it a divine act of God.
Leaning back in his seat, he cleared his mind of all stress, of all worries. He was anxious to see his family, but he couldn’t help wondering if the brutal weather was a sign of things to come. Were stormy days ahead? His mother was booked to have abdominal surgery at the end of the month and she would be out of commission for weeks. His workaholic father would rather travel the country brokering new deals than help manage the resort. It was up to him to oversee the renovation project, and he was already dreading every minute of it.
Santiago calculated the number of hours he’d spent waiting at Dulles International Airport and strangled a groan of frustration. He was stranded, but at least he was comfortable. The spacious first-class lounge had all the comforts of home—semireclining chairs, plush oversize couches, and a restaurant that carried everything from crab salad to Peking duck.
He picked up the Newsweek magazine lying on the glass table and started to read. Two sentences in, his gaze strayed back across the room. He guessed that she was in her midtwenties, but from ten feet away it was hard to know for sure. She looked wounded, broken, but she walked into the lounge with unparalleled grace. She moved with poise, confidence, the elegance of an Oscar-winning actress. And when she sat down in his line of vision, only a few rows away from him, he caught a whiff of her fragrant perfume.
Santiago watched her on the sly. Filled with compassion, he wondered why she looked so sad, why she had such a heavy heart. Was she flying home to care for an ailing relative? Or to attend the funeral of a close, dear friend?