Two more couples were waiting at the sign when they returned. The bus arrived soon after. Ian didn’t protest as Maria climbed aboard with him, perhaps because a lone American would attract more attention among tourists. Everyone else had purchased tickets in advance, but the driver accepted Ian’s cash without blinking an eye. There were plenty of open seats.
Maria had never been on a luxury bus before. It was nothing like traveling third class. This bus didn’t make extra stops to pick up locals. There was an attendant who served drinks and sandwiches. There were full bathrooms, lots of space, and comfortable, cushioned seats. Ian took all of this in stride while she marveled over every detail.
“How much money do you have left?” she asked.
“Enough.”
“The trip from Hermosillo to Benjamín Hill will be cheap.”
“Good.”
She wasn’t sure how to broach the next subject. His eyes were closed, his head turned to the side. “Do you trust the man you work for?”
He stayed quiet for so long she thought he’d fallen asleep. “I don’t trust anyone.”
She curled up next to him, wishing she hadn’t asked. She was worried about him, her brother, Sarai, Armando. Even though her mind was troubled and her stomach was tied in knots, she couldn’t stay awake. The long, arduous day took its toll. Her eyes grew heavy and she drifted off, rocked by the gentle motions of first class.
Chapter 21
Ian jolted awake with a start.
He was still on the bus. It was daylight. The space next to him was empty. He straightened in his seat and glanced around blearily. He didn’t see Maria anywhere. There was a woman with a white blouse and a blue scarf pushing a cart down the aisle.
“Would you care for a refreshment?” she asked him.
“Where’s my wife?”
The woman tilted her head toward the back of the bus. Maria came out of the bathroom. Her hair was twisted into a knot at the nape of her neck. She looked bright-eyed and fresh-scrubbed, as if she’d just washed her face.
Ian returned his gaze to the attendant.
“Orange juice? Coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
She dispensed two coffee cups with lids and two juice boxes before moving on to the next row. Maria sat down next to him. The shawl she’d been wearing was draped over the seat. She stuck a straw through the juice box and sucked prettily.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Better.”
“You slept ten hours.”
He removed the lid on his coffee cup and added a sugar packet. If she hadn’t been sitting beside him, he wouldn’t have rested so easily, and he’d needed the rest. He felt like a new man. Groggy, but that was nothing the coffee couldn’t cure. He downed both cups before he went to the restroom. Then he used the facilities and washed up, studying his appearance.
He needed a shower and a shave. The stubble on his jaw was so thick he couldn’t distinguish his beard from his mustache anymore. His pin-striped shirt was incongruent with his scruffy face, and too tight across the shoulders. After taking it off, he splashed his armpits with soapy water. Then he put it back on, securing one button before he returned to Maria.
“Do you have another shirt for me?”
She rifled through the backpack and handed him a ribbed undershirt. He eased the pin-striped one off his shoulders. The attendant chose that moment to offer them some breakfast pastries. She gave him a little smile before she moved on. He put on the undershirt and added the pin-striped shirt over it, unbuttoned.
“This isn’t San Diego,” Maria said.
“What?”
“You can’t take off your shirt anywhere.”
He glanced at the female attendant. “In front of other women, you mean?”
“How would you feel if I walked around topless?”
“I’d love it.”
“You would not.”
“Try me. We can go to a nude beach someday.”
Her lips parted in surprise. Then a flush rose to her cheeks, as if the suggestion intrigued her. “Have you been to one?”
“Yes.”
“Did you go naked?”
“No. I just enjoyed the view.”
She pulled her gaze away from his, seeming flustered. He watched a pulse flutter at the base of her throat. Her skin was so smooth and fine, like warm honey. He pictured her standing on the sand, breasts exposed to the sun. She’d be dazzling. She was a sensual woman, innocent but adventurous. He wanted to take her to all the places she’d never been.
Hell, he wanted to take her to the bathroom in the back of the bus.
His pulse quickened at the thought. Blood pooled to his groin, hardening him to a painful degree. He shifted his legs, uncomfortable.
“Now I know you’re feeling better.”
He half groaned, half laughed. It was a natural reaction to an inappropriate conversation. He hadn’t forgotten that they were in a dangerous situation, however. Nothing had changed between them. He knew he should be thinking about how he was going to get out of this country alive, not how he was going to get into her pants again. But it was difficult to maintain a level of constant vigilance. They were in a safe place. His fever had passed. It felt pretty goddamned great to be with her, and in possession of a strong, healthy body. Of course he wanted to put it to good use.
He took a deep breath and tried to refocus. An announcement sounded over the intercom: “We’ll be arriving in Hermosillo in thirty minutes.”
While they ate their breakfast pastries and drank the rest of the juice, Maria’s question from last night echoed in his mind. Did he trust LaGuardia? The SAC wouldn’t have sent Ian down here just to set him up. That strategy didn’t make sense. Although ICE worked with Mexican officials on a regular basis, Ian’s assignment wasn’t part of that collaboration. The details were supposed to remain confidential. There was no reason for LaGuardia to leak Ian’s location.