Even though I've officially forgiven him, Miguel bends over backward to make his indiscretions up to me. One of his more unexpected surprises is a little orange tiger kitten to keep me company while he's at work, which he names Whiskey. Secretly, I loathe the damn thing—animals that claw have always scared me—but to his face, I pretend to be thrilled, just to acknowledge his efforts.

When he returns from work early one morning in the best of moods, I expect another disaster like Whiskey, but I'm in for a real surprise.

"Pack up some things. We're going on a trip."

I squeal. "Seriously? Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you to a resort in Colombia." He pulls me into his arms. "I figured we both could use a break. You'll love it."

When I get my travel bag from underneath the bed, I'm so excited I could scream. "What should I take?" I wrinkle my nose as I scan over my clothes in the closet. "Is it fancy?"

"Yes, five stars." He runs his fingers over my selection of summer dresses. "Just take some shorts and tops and don't forget your bathing suit. We'll buy you the rest when we get there. They have tons of little shops in the resort."

I took a virtual vacation tour through parts of South America and the beauty of the Colombian beaches stood out. It sounds like a dream getaway. "When are we going?"

"As soon as you're ready."

It doesn't take me long to pack, and thirty minutes later, the maid loads the bags into the trunk of the SUV. When I grab my purse, I hesitate. "What about my passport?" If I'm stateless, will it even work? What will Miguel do if he finds out?

Miguel, who is talking to someone on the phone, interrupts his call. "Don't worry about it. We'll be traveling on diplomatic papers. You don't need a passport."

On our way to the airport, his ear is glued to the phone as he makes one call after another. I take a deep breath and close my eyes.

He's just delegating his work to some of his men.

He has to or he'll earn his father's disapproval, but that doesn't mean he'll spend half of our vacation on the phone.

We're gonna have a great time.

The next damper is delivered as soon as we pull up next to the plane. Tomás, Ramon, and Bettina are waiting for us. Judging from the bags surrounding them, they are going to come along.

I slide out of the car and Bettina loops arms with me. "Isn't this great? It's the first time I'll be able to spend some alone time with Ramon since the baby. I'm so excited."

She looks incredibly pale and exhausted, and I have to agree that this trip will be good for her, even if I'd rather go alone.

"Where is Shauna?" I ask Tomás.

"Sick as a dog." He grimaces. "She has been puking almost all day nonstop and can't keep anything down. There's no way she can come."

His eyes are indifferent; he must not be very worried about his pregnant wife.

The plane is much larger than the one Felipe used to bring me to Malaguay and has every possible amenity. After takeoff, the stewardess serves Bettina and me champagne while the guys light cigars with their scotch and break out the cards. Soon, a loud and boisterous game is in full swing with money spread around the table. Judging from the pile in front of the players, Tomás is in the lead.

"So how's the baby?" I ask Bettina to be polite.

It's a big mistake. For the rest of the flight, she bombards me with little tidbits about her son. I learn all about his weight gain since his birth a month ago, how many diapers he uses, and the kind of toys he likes. It wouldn't surprise me if she counted the hairs on his head. After a while, I don't even bother to hide my yawn behind my hand, but she seems totally oblivious to my boredom. Her eyes shine, her voice filled with excitement as she carries on and on about the life of little Josué Varela. I catch Miguel's smile a few times and grin back, uncertain whether he finds the situation amusing or wants me to get a taste of motherhood.

We touch down just after lunchtime. A limousine is waiting for us, together with a bunch of Colombian police. Miguel exchanges a few Spanish words with one of them. Though their tone is overly polite, the gazes they exchange are murderous.

After a few minutes, we are on our way. I'm sandwiched in between Miguel and Bettina, and the windows of the limousine are tinted so dark that I barely catch a glimpse of the outside. After a short ride, we pull up in front of an impressive resort with beautiful palm trees lining the front. When I get out of the car, a light breeze caresses my skin, a wonderful change to the freezing air conditioner that had me shivering all the way from the airport.

"Bienvenidos al Royal Crowne Plaza Barú," a man in a suit welcomes us. A small stack of dollar bills exchanges hands. "Sus suites están listos."

The facility looks impeccable. We are led in between rows of two-story buildings, passing a pool surrounded by loungers and red umbrellas on the way. A few guests dabble in the water. The still afternoon heat is only disturbed by the occasional light wind, blowing up from the ocean. Each building is separated by a small garden, featuring a sea of exotic flowers. An incredible scent emits from the bright and colorful petals. In the distance, the turquoise surface of the Caribbean Sea sparkles under the bright sun; it gives the illusion of a perfectly calm sea.

The suite is of equal standard with a large living room and a separate bedroom with a king-sized bed. A whirlpool takes up a large part of the bathroom, inviting me to take a dip. Large double doors made entirely of glass lead onto a balcony. Stepping outside, I'm spoiled by spectacular views of the open sea. This is truly a piece of paradise.

Miguel wraps his arms around me from behind. "Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful." I take a deep breath, my nostrils indulging in the sweet smell of roses from the garden right underneath the window.

"I have to run. I'm meeting Ramon's uncle and a few of his friends out by the pool bar. Maybe you and Bettina can hang out together until I'm back."

"We just got here. Can't we first spend some time alone?"

"We will as soon as this meeting is over. In the meantime, get anything you want. Food, drinks, massages—there is tons of stuff to do to kill the time. The hotel even has a full beauty salon and spa." He squeezes my behind. "And don't forget to buy yourself some clothes."

I get one kiss on my hair and he's gone. With a huff, I start to unpack before slipping into my bathing suit and shorts. My flip flops are next. I'm just pulling back my hair into a ponytail when there's a knock on the door.

"Come on in." I expect it to be Bettina, but it's not.

Tomás gives me a good once-over, then scans the suite. "Nice."

"What do you want, Tomás? Miguel's not here."

"I know. He asked me to be your escort."

"And why would I need an escort?"

He pops a grape from the fruit basket into his mouth and slams into the chair next to me without an invitation. "You're the fiancé of a foreign diplomat in a country that is known for its high crime rate. Colombia can be a dangerous place. If you were my woman, I would want an escort for you, too."

"Yeah, about that." I glare at him. "Is it true that you and Felipe shared your . . ."

When he smirks, the last word is stuck in my throat.

"Too bad you and him didn't work out. I'm sure you're a tigress in bed. We could've had so much fun."

I shoot a few daggers his way. "Over my dead body. That's disgusting."

He just laughs at my obvious displeasure. "Fidelity is highly overrated. You need variety or sex gets boring."

His wink gets my cheeks to heat and I'm desperate to change the subject. "Why are you not with Miguel?"

The smirk fades. "Miguel is meeting with the head of the Floreñas cartel. I was not invited."

"Why are they meeting here during our vacation?"

He snorts a laugh. "You really are naïve. We are in the number-one cocaine-producing nation in the world. Malaguay is too small to compete, so Miguel decided to join forces. Ramon's uncle is part of the Floreñas cartel and got him a foot in the door. This trip is designed to hammer out the specifics."

My face twists as disappointment washes over me. Instead of a few romantic days with Miguel, I'll be stuck with Bettina and Tomás, having to endure baby talk and Tomás's jackass behavior.

The smirk is back on his face. "Oh, poor thing. Don't tell me you thought this was a fun trip? Miguel is way too busy building his empire. We're just his decoys, so the Colombian authorities won't breathe down his neck while we're here."

I choose to ignore his biting remark. Battling with the sunscreen cap, I'm close to tears when he takes the bottle out of my hand.

"Let me get this for you."

The cap pops open without any effort.

He squirts lotion onto his hand. "Turn around."

With a long sigh, I oblige. The skin on my shoulders burns easily and it's always a struggle to cover every part of my back.

His hands are gentle as he spreads the lotion, his long fingers massaging the tension right out of my muscles. Only the smirk on his face, grinning back at me from the mirror, works as a constant reminder that he's nothing but a jerk.

After he screws the cap back on the lotion bottle, he clears his throat with a small cough. "We should meet up with Bettina. I'm sure she's already wondering where we are."

I nod. This might not be the wonderful getaway I was hoping for, but I'm determined to make the best of it. Yet the bitter feeling that Miguel only used me sours my mood. Will there ever again be a day not filled with bad surprises?

~~~~

I don't see Miguel for the rest of the day, even after Ramon joins us for dinner, and I neither hear him come in that night nor leave in the morning. The only hint that he was even in the room are his dirty boxers on the floor that weren't there when I went to bed. Frustrated, I nibble my breakfast on the main terrace, my eyes blind to the amazing views while I brood. As I'm finishing the last bit of orange juice, Tomás appears at the table. Keys dangle from his hand.

"Hurry up, princess. We've got a full day."

"Where are we going?"

"Snorkeling. Trust me, you'll love it."

With him keeping me company, I seriously doubt it. "Aren't there fish in the ocean?"

He blinks at me a few times, his jaw slightly unhinged. "That's the whole point of snorkeling. You watch colorful fish that swim around in the sea."

"But don't some of them bite?"

He laughs. "Don't worry, as long as you're with me, I've got that covered."

With a frown, I follow him out to the front of the resort where a rental car is waiting. Tomás's driving style has not improved; he speeds along the coastal road that takes us parallel to the beach. Warm air floats through the sunroof, tempering some of my bad mood. After being tossed around a few times in sharp bends, the speed becomes intoxicating. I stand on my seat to poke my head through the sunroof. A giggle springs free and I squeeze my eyes shut as the wind becomes too harsh.

When I dip back down into the car, a wide smile plays on Tomás's lips. A rare glint of joy sparks in his eyes. Seeing his face so relaxed makes him look younger. He speeds up even more to pass a swaying bus; when he cuts back into the lane to avoid a head-on collision, I'm almost thrown against him.

"You're crazy, you know." Though the situation was clearly dangerous, I can't help but laugh. Living on the edge like this is thrilling.

"Yeah, some people have told me that before."

"Then why do you still drive like a maniac?"

"It's called a certain disregard for life, my dear."

"So you don't care if you die?"

His lips purse for a second as if he's contemplating the question. "Let's not get too philosophical. It tends to spoil my mood."

"Oh, we wouldn't want that."

He chuckles, his eyes sparkling even more boisterously than before. After a few more miles, we pull up into a small marina. Motor and sailboats bob on the water and the electrifying energy in the air makes me giddy. I'm actually looking forward to our adventure.

"You do know how to swim, right?" Tomás's squint suggests he's having second thoughts.

"Yeah, don't worry. I won't drown on you."

"Good, because that might get me into trouble with Miguel."

"Since when are you worried about Miguel?"

As he studies me with this goofy smile, something in his blue eyes makes my heart race. My laugh is awkward and I look away.

"The ocean is calling us, princess. Let's go."

The boat he chartered is more like a yacht and we get comfortable on the front deck. The skipper heads to sea. Without prompting, Tomás picks up the sunscreen lotion and twists off the cap, his brows wiggling. "Turn around so I can do your back." Coughing in his fist, he clears the brief hoarseness in his voice.

I grin and flip on my stomach, closing my eyes as he gets to work. His touch is very relaxing. If he wasn't a soldier, he could have a flourishing career as a massage therapist.

When he's done, I smile. "Your turn."

With a grimace, he drops the lotion bottle back into my bag. "I never burn."

The even up-and-down dips of the boat make me sleepy and my eyelids droop. This is so nice. I'm more relaxed that I've been in ages. The sudden cut of the engine jerks me awake. I sit up, inhaling a mouthful of the salty air.

Tomás stares onto the water. A spark of carefreeness glows in his eyes. "Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

The boat bobs softly on the small waves of the deep-blue water as he helps me to put on the snorkeling gear.

"Just stay close to me and I'll take care of the rest."

"Whatever you say, Mayor Araya."

When I glide into the water, the coldness rubbing against my heated skin stifles my breath. I need to swim a few strokes to adjust. Tomás steers toward the reef, his head half underwater. I follow with even strokes of my flippers. It takes a moment to get used to the snorkel piece in my mouth, but when an explosion of colorful fish floats around me, my eyes widen in wonder. None of the pictures or videos I've watched will ever do this justice. Best experience ever.

We splash around until I'm cold to the bone and the salt has turned my fingers and palms all wrinkly. Tomás helps me back into the boat. We get comfortable in the sun, but it takes almost the entire trip back to shore to warm me up.

Back at the car, Tomás opens the door for me. "Let's get a bite to eat in town."

"Is it far?" My stomach is growling and I'm dying of thirst.

"Only a couple of miles."

We park in the town center and get out. Strolling along main street, I soak in the beauty of the city. Smiles are on most faces and not the slightest hint of despair disturbs the harmony palpable in the air. It's so different from Malaguay. I stop at a street corner where a group of musicians keeps the crowd entertained with a quick beat. They seem to be foreigners since the tunes don't hold a South American rhythm and most of the guys are pale. A ginger dominates with a fiddle, so maybe Irish. When the music stops, people are clapping but turn away as soon as the guy comes around with a hat.

Without hesitation, Tomás drops in a twenty-dollar bill. "Hey, mano, can we play a tune together?"

"Sure, you know how to play?"

Tomás picks up the fiddle; after striking a few test notes, he shifts the instrument under his chin. Wild, melodic sounds explode in the air; a couple of beats later and the crowd is back. The song is fast paced and my foot taps to the rhythm. Not able to keep my eyes off Tomás as he coaxes the instrument to play wilder and wilder tunes, I'm out of breath when he finally strikes the last note. My clapping is drowned by loud cheers. The hat is filled with coins and bills in under a minute.

The ginger approaches him. "That was awesome, dude. Let's split the money."

Tomás shakes his head. "Keep it. It was fun."

I loop arms with him. "I didn't know you played an instrument."

"Yeah, I guess I can work the fiddle all right."

"All right?" I gaze up at him from under my eyelashes. "Tomás, that was fantastic. You've got a lot of talent."

When he pulls his arm out of mine, the usual smirk is on his lips. "Let's eat. I'm starving."

He chooses a small street café with a great selection of tapas and I stuff myself until I'm filled to the brim. The heat and fresh air have made me sleepy again; on our way back to the hotel, I doze off for most of the trip. By the time he pulls up to reception, red streaks color the horizon.

He cuts off the engine with the turn of the key. "You want another drink at the bar?"

"Truthfully, I'm beat. Too much sun. I think I'm just going to lie down and read a little."

"Then good night, Stacy. I'll pick you up after breakfast."

"Can you take me snorkeling again?"

"What? No more fear of biting fish in the sea?"

I lower my gaze. It was a silly thought.

A slight huskiness sneaks into his chuckle. "We can go snorkeling as often as you like."

"Thank you."

His smirk is met by my small smile as I turn on my heel and walk off. I feel his eyes on me all the way through reception. Heading down the path to my room, I stop in my tracks. Since I left with Tomás this morning, I haven't thought even once about Miguel. He likely will be waiting for me already, and I wouldn't mind some snuggle time before bed.

The room is dark and empty; when I decide to call it a night, there's still no sign of him. Turning off the lamp on the nightstand, I fiddle around with the pillows. Miguel or not, I had a great day. The concept that it was actually Tomás's company I enjoyed is both mind-boggling and terrifying. Who would have ever thought that he could be a nice guy when he wanted to be?

~~~~

© Sal Mason 2017

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