Chapter 1

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Sergio Desoto stared at the guardianship paperwork in his hands. He'd read the document so many times, the papers had become wrinkled and a little smudged in a few places. Okay, maybe the smudges were from the moisture that blinded his eyes each time he picked up his pen to sign.

As hard as it was to give up guardianship of his son — it felt like someone was ripping his heart out one cell at a time — he knew this was best for Davy. His sister-in-law, Salome, had already agreed she would go back on the road with Davy, if that's what it took to keep him safe — far from the reaches of the cartel that hounded Sergio day and night, trying to coerce him into becoming a dirty cop.

A knock sounded on the front door of Sergio's condo. He shot to his feet and tossed the guardianship papers on the coffee table. As he crept silently towards the door, he slid his police department issued revolver from its holster and cocked it. He used the barrel of it to press open the blinds and peer out the front picture window.

His shoulder's relaxed. It was Salome, or Sal as most of the department called her. He hurried to the door and threw back the deadbolt.

She breezed inside, her long brunette hair swinging around her slender shoulders, while he shoved his piece back in its holster. "We need to talk," she announced flatly.

Uh-oh. He shut the door carefully behind her, bolting it in place, and spoke without turning around. "Please assure me you haven't changed your mind about becoming Davy's guardian, chica." He waited for her answer with his fists pressed against the door, eyes closed. Everything important in his life hinged on their agreement. Not only was it the best way he could fathom keeping Davy safe, it would get Sal out of harm's way, as well.

"Not exactly." Her voice sounded distant. The clatter of glassware indicated she'd moved into his kitchenette on the other side of the bar.

With a frustrated huff, Sergio pushed away from the door and followed her. "What are you doing?"

"Your dishes," she snapped, "since you seem to have forgotten how."

He stood in the wide arched doorway leading from his small living room to the eat-in kitchen, trying not to notice how Sal's jean shorts hugged her curvy hips. He couldn't resist one quick glance at her beautiful, sun-kissed legs, then wanted to kick himself for being such a cad. As much as he adored his sister-in-law, she was one of the biggest curses of his existence (second only to the cartel) for the sole reason that his oldest brother, Adrian, had seen her first.

And dated her first.

And married her.

Then left her a widow shortly afterward.

Sergio had done everything in his power to look after Sal since his brother's death more than a year earlier — to help provide for her while she was finishing nursing school and to keep her safe. He ran a hand tiredly over his face. There were times, though, when he wondered if Sal needed someone to keep her safe from him.

"You can leave the dishes. I'll get to them." Eventually.

She ignored him and kept busy at the sink, rinsing glasses and turning them upside down on the red drying mat that rested on the counter.

"Please?" He strode across the room to stand directly behind her. Without thinking, he bent his head to press a kiss to her cheek.

And instantly regretted it when her whole petite figure went rigid.

She turned off the faucet and tossed aside the sponge. "That is what I want to talk to you about." She abruptly spun around, bringing them almost flush against each other.

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