The waiter departed and Ignacio’s gaze settled on Kara, his lips twisting snidely. “I thought I was buying you a drink?”
“I prefer a clear head,” she replied tightly. And a steady hand on my gun.
“Talk to me about the staff here at the restaurant,” Blake said, pulling Ignacio’s attention to him, and Kara had the distinct impression it was intentional. He didn’t like Ignacio focusing on her. That made two of them.
Ignacio stared at her several more seconds that felt like an eternity before shifting his attention to Blake. “What do you want to know?”
“Who’s in the know about the true nature of the operation?”
“The restaurant runs like any other with a staff who know no differently. Eduardo, the manager, and the entire warehouse staff are, as you say, ‘in the know’.”
“How many does that make?”
“Thirty, mostly non-English-speaking illegals who do our handling.”
“What time do the daily shipments go out?”
Kara watched Ignacio’s jaw flex, a subtle sign he didn’t like to be questioned. But then, no one had questioned him in a long time. “Ten. That allows us the coverage of restaurant traffic.”
“And who’s in charge of overseeing the product making it to the pier?” Blake asked.
“Eduardo signs it out and I personally sign it in.”
“Every day?” Blake pressed. “Seven days a week?”
“Monday and Thursday only,” Ignacio corrected. ”The Coast Guard has a bigger presence on the weekends. We still run the boats, but without product.”
Kara’s gaze flicked back to Eduardo and the girl as they got up and headed toward the back. A powerful urge to follow, to know the girl was okay, if only for now, overcame her. “Excuse me,” Kara said. “I need to go to the ladies’ room.” She snatched up her purse and didn’t look at Blake or Ignacio, but Kara could feel Blake’s eyes on her, hot and heavy, and she knew she wouldn’t have long before he’d come after her.
Quickly, Kara cut behind the bar, following Eduardo and the girl into the hallway that led to the bathroom and a series of offices that she’d tried to get into once before but found locked. The hallway was empty but one of the office doors was cracked open.
Kara eased her way to the wall by the opening, flattening against the wall, and she could just barely make out Eduardo’s voice. “I need the blonde,” he said. “Now. Tonight.”
“I can’t get her here until tomorrow night. She said she has to—”
“The boat leaves at 4am. Tomorrow night is too late.”
“Eduardo—” The female yelped. “Ouch. You’re pulling my hair. It hurts.”
“I said I need her here tonight. If she isn’t on that boat that goes out you’ll be on it instead, which means you’ll be everyone’s f**k buddy on the island.”
“I’ll find a girl.”
“That girl. It has to be her. We’ve cleared her records already.”
Kara’s stomach rolled. She’d been right. They were running some sort of sex operation with the women they made disappear. She didn’t want to think about what that meant for her personal agenda. She couldn’t. Not now, or she might lose it and go in that office and shoot Eduardo. That wouldn’t get her the answers she so desperately needed.
“Go get her,” he ordered, and Kara whirled to escape and smacked into a hard body. His body. Her nostrils flared with the spicy, familiar male scent of him and she knew even before her gaze lifted that Blake was standing there.
His hands closed gently around her upper arms, those dark brown eyes of his searching hers. “What are you up to, Kara?” he murmured softly.
A second later, a woman yelped behind her. Kara cringed. This wasn’t going well. Not at all.
“What’s going on here?” she heard Eduardo say, clearly having joined the girl.
“Looking for the bathroom,” Kara blurted, whirling around to face Eduardo and the girl only to have Blake’s hands settle on her shoulders, his big body pulling hers against his.
“Yes,” he said. “Can you tell her where the bathroom is?”
Eduardo, a tall man with short, spiky black hair, narrowed his eyes on Kara and then let them lift to Blake. “Behind you.”
“Right,” Kara said. “Thank you.” She turned away and darted for the women’s restroom, while Blake introduced himself to Eduardo.
Kara cleared the doorway to the restroom and leaned on the sink, thankful the two stalls beside her appeared to be empty. Her heart hammered in her chest, and not just because that was too close a call. Because she’d confirmed what she feared was happening to the women that had gone missing. Because Blake’s hands on her shoulders, the protective, possessive thing he kept doing, felt too good and too right. And because he was going to ask questions she didn’t want to answer. Now he was going to push her harder. The only real comfort she had in all of this was that the missing women, one in particular, were likely alive. She just had to figure out where they were.
The door to the bathroom opened and she whirled around to find Blake stepping inside. “What are you doing?” she demanded, only to find herself against the door with Blake’s legs framing hers, his hands curving around her waist. Heat shot through her body, fogging her brain. Damn it, no man affected her like this until now. Why why why did it have to be him?