As she sank into the seat, Max reached across and strapped her in, as if she were an imbecile or a small child incapable of taking care of herself. She ignored his gesture and looked at the city in the distance. “Where are we going now?”
“To my estancia—ranch—in the Pampas.”
Continuing to look outside the window, she asked, “And how far is this?”
His fingers sank around her chin and forced her to look at him once again. “Not far.” His eyes dropped to her bottom lip before his thumb pressed against it. “Are you hungry?” He frowned slightly. “You haven’t eaten in hours.”
She licked her lip, tasting even his minor touch, a tremor resonating in her stomach. “I’m fine.”
“That you are, sweetness, but if need be, you have only to ask.” He dropped his hand and motioned to a small cooler. “There are water bottles, fresh fruit and protein bars.”
She nodded and turned her head away again.
The plane took off and Erin felt her stomach twist as she watched the city begin to fade in the distance. The landscape changed dramatically, becoming agricultural very quickly. But as the minutes began to bleed away, she clutched her purse and tried to keep the panic at bay. Really. Why hadn’t she jumped and ran when she had the chance? Had she been afraid to cause a commotion? Surely the officials in Buenos Aires wouldn’t have allowed an American citizen to be kept here against her will. And an even more unsettling thought—surely she hadn’t unconsciously wanted to come with him?
Finally, they landed at a small runway in the middle of what looked to be a vast, fertile farmland. The car that awaited them was an SUV, and Erin felt a chill run down her spine as the two men who greeted Max looked more like bodyguards than the ranch managers he introduced them as. They were both tall, seemed to speak only Spanish, and both wore weapons strapped to their sides that incited a cold chill within her belly. Why in the hell had her mother let her get away with studying only French in high school? Even some rudimentary Spanish would have been helpful right about now.
They traveled another thirty minutes by car before they reached the house. ‘House’ was an understatement; the place was nothing less than a stronghold. The compound was contained completely in what looked to be eight-foot tall electric fencing. Was it meant to keep predators out or captives inside? The main house was huge, two-storied and made of brick. Lesser buildings of various sizes and shapes surrounded it. The car slowed as the electronic gates opened automatically. The driver pulled into a circular drive and Max helped her out of the car as the two men retrieved their bags.
As Max put his hand under her elbow with fingers that clenched, Erin glanced up at the building they were about to enter. She supposed it could be considered a home, but there was no question that it was a fortress as well. She said a silent prayer that the man at her side wasn’t involved in the drug trade or illegal firearms, or anything equally reprehensible. Really—what the hell had her siblings done to earn the wrath of this man?
He ushered her through twin doors of what was probably solid steel, and as they walked inside the foyer, Erin felt her heart trip once again—the interior designer inside of her was captivated. On the inside, the architecture was perfection. Miles of marble tile led to a curved wrought iron stairway and custom ornamental moldings highlighted the soaring ceilings, all of which combined to produce a feeling of abundant space and, ironically, freedom.
A short, rotund woman with an apron tied around her waist and a beaming smile came to meet them.
Erin stood in almost a daze as Max introduced them. “Erin—this is Marisol, our housekeeper. Marisol, please allow me to introduce Erin Villarreal, formerly Erin Rule—my wife.”
As he spoke the formal words, his fingers gripped the flesh of her arm in what was a clear warning. She remained silent as a range of emotions played across the older woman’s face. Erin recognized pleasure and curiosity, but for whatever reason, she didn’t see a bit of surprise on the housekeeper’s face.
“Señor Maximo—we weren’t expecting you so soon! Welcome, chica.” The woman came forward and embraced her while Erin hung awkwardly between the two of them; Max wouldn’t entirely release her while his housekeeper did her best to hug her.
As the older woman stepped back, Max answered, “There was no time to phone ahead. It was a long trip and now we need to get Erin settled. I know she’s tired and hungry. Yes, I think food first.”
He abruptly switched to Spanish as he continued speaking to the housekeeper.
Erin watched as the older woman began smiling and nodding her head. “But of course! I’ll get Cook right on it.” She smiled once more at Erin before spinning on her heel and leaving the room.