He stepped outside, pulling Samara with him.
“Run!” he urged in a whisper, and they both took off, feet flying over the soft ground. They were both long-legged and covered the distance easily, reaching the vehicle at the same time, Samara on the passenger side, him on the driver’s. They reached for the door handles just as a sharp voice called from behind them, “Alto! Halt!”
They both became petrified, hands on the doors. Travis’s heart slammed in his chest, his body hot. He looked up at the clear blue sky. No, god no, this couldn’t happen. They’d been so close; he was sure they’d made it.
Slowly, he looked at Samara and saw the terror in her eyes, and he knew he would die to save her life if he could. He straightened, removing his hands from the car, and holding them up, he turned.
Standing there was Javier Alvarez. And the man Samara had recognized from the hotel. And...Parker.
Chapter Twenty-one
Samara’s body went weak, and her vision darkened at the edges; the only thing she saw was her father standing there. Alive. Or was this some kind of hallucination brought on by terror? “Dad?”
“Samara.”
Travis caught her as her knees buckled, and her only thought was don’t let them shoot him, please don’t let them shoot him.
He lowered her to the ground and pushed her head down between her knees. Her ears buzzed loudly, and the voices she heard sounded very far away.
“Samara.”
“Is she okay? Dammit, Travis, what the hell...”
“What the hell? You’re asking me what the hell? Jesus Christ, Parker!”
“Don’t fight,” she mumbled, but it seemed nobody heard her. Or they ignored her. Her vision began to clear, and the noise in her ears faded. Her clothes were drenched with perspiration, and she shivered. She lifted her head.
“Are you okay? God, baby.” Travis, crouched beside her on the dirt, sat down hard, and pulled her onto his lap, tucking her head against this chest. His strong arms wrapped around her felt so good.
“Gun. Travis...”
“It’s okay. There’s no gun.” He held her like that for a moment. “It’s okay. I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but it’s okay.”
She lifted her head to look at him, threw her arms around his neck and squeezed, her entire body wracked with trembling. They were alive.
And so was her father.
She jerked her head back and stared up at him, now standing beside them, hands on his hips, frowning at them.
Shaky, she struggled to get off Travis’s lap and to her feet, but fury surged inside her, giving her strength. Travis rose to stand behind her, his hands protectively on her waist. “Dad! What is going on! We thought you were dead!”
His frown deepened into a scowl. “Dead?” He cast a questioning glance at the man, the one who’d had the gun earlier. “You thought I was dead?”
The man from the hotel stepped forward. Samara was quick to note he no longer held his gun, although it sat in a holster on his hip.
He held out a hand. “Permit me to introduce myself. I am Carlos De Faria. DEA.”
Samara blinked but didn’t take his hand. “DEA?”
He nodded, and she finally stretched out a hand to shake his.
“I’ve been working undercover here in Matagalpa for several years.” He nodded at Parker. “Your father has been assisting us in setting up an important sting operation. We just took down a major drug cartel.” He jerked his head toward the trees and bushes behind them that hid the air strip from view. “Mr. Alvarez here has also assisted us.”
Javier’s face looked ashen, and he shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe what had happened. Raoul was nowhere in sight. Had he been one of the bad guys?
“But...Dad?” She turned her eyes to him. “You were helping the DEA?”
“I was until a couple of weeks ago. My cover got blown. We quickly had to fake my death. I’ve been in hiding ever since.” He turned to glare at Carlos De Faria. “You told me you’d get a message to them. That I was okay.”
Carlos’s eyes shifted. “Er...yes, well, we thought it would be more believable if even your family thought you were dead.”
“Jesus Christ!” Dad looked like was going to explode.
Her chest tight, Samara felt like she couldn’t breathe. “We thought you were dead,” she said again, voice choking. “Mom...oh my damn, Mom’s going to have a fit.”
“I am so sorry, Sam,” her father said, and he opened his arms. Much as she didn’t like to leave the safety and comfort of Travis’s embrace, she quickly looked up at him over her shoulder, and he released her. She took three steps, and then her father’s arms were around her and she was sobbing into his chest.
“Daddy, oh Daddy! I can’t believe this.”
He stroked her back and patted her. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry we did that to you. I wanted you to know I was okay. It was just going to be for a couple of weeks. It was the only way. Otherwise I really would be dead.”
She smacked his shoulder. “We had a funeral for you!” Then she sobbed again. “How could you do that to us?”
“Shit. You had a funeral?”
“Yes! A really big funeral!”
“Christ. I’m sorry.” He held her while she cried. Finally she drew back and dragged her palms over wet cheeks. She sucked in a quivery breath. “I guess I should be happy you’re alive, not mad at you, huh?”
He grinned. “I think I’d be pretty pissed off, too, if I were you.”
“Oh, Daddy.”
“In fact, now that you mention it, I am pissed off at you. Both of you.” His frown returned. “What the hell are you two doing here, anyway? Do you know how close you came to blowing the entire operation?”
“Yes,” Carlos De Faria spoke. “We’ve been working years on this.” He too looked at them with his brows tight over his nose. “I tried to warn you at the hotel to leave.”
“Well,” she huffed, “if you’d told me who you were, maybe I would have.”
He sighed. “I couldn’t tell you,” he said with great patience. “I was undercover.”
“Samara doesn’t like it when people tell her what to do,” Travis said.
She rounded on him then softened at the love and affection in his eyes and the smile tipping up his lips. She moved back toward him, still hardly able to believe they were alive and everything was okay.
“We came here to talk to Javier about Paquita,” she told her dad. “I found the information on your laptop, and I wanted to see if I could finish the deal.” Her lower lip pushed out. “Is there really a Paquita bean? Probably not, huh?” Her shoulders slumped. What an idiot she’d been. This had to be the biggest screw-up of her life. Yet another epic fail. She just kept making mistakes.
Travis wrapped an arm around her waist, and she leaned against him with a sigh.
“There really is a Paquita bean,” her dad said. “I have been talking to Javier about it. He can’t produce enough right now to make it economically viable, but if we help with some equipment, we should be able to produce large enough qualities.”
Her heart leaped. “Really? ’Cause I want to taste that coffee! It sounds amazing!”
The men all laughed, and Travis squeezed her tighter. “I love you, Sam.”
“Hey.” Parker stepped toward them, scowling. “What is this?”
Travis lifted his head and met Parker’s eyes. His stomach clenched. Parker might not be happy, but too damn bad. He was not letting her go now. “Samara and I are in love,” he said, lifting his chin. “I know I made a promise to you a long time ago, but...well, that was a long time ago.”
“Dad. I love him. I’m twenty-four years old. I’ll fall in love with whomever I want.”