South of the Border

By Cherie De Sues

Agent Danielle La Rue got her first chance as a field agent on a low-risk assignment for the DEA. Her new reckless partner has the desire to avenge another agent's death, screwing up her opportunity to shine.

Agent Rick Tarrango long ago went Mustang as a field agent for the ATF. Rick doesn't like to follow the rules; they're more like guidelines. As Dani and he butt heads over a Mexican drug cartel blood bath, he's drawn to the sexy and smart ex-Navy SEAL. But Rick will do whatever he can to bring his friend's murderer down, even go against orders.

The leader of a drug cartel and an arms dealer are ready to do battle in a small coastal town in Mexico. Dani and Rick have to find the yacht carrying firearms in from Guatemala. Can Dani reel in Rick long enough to get the job done or will she trust her heart instead?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cherie De Sues
• Release date: Sep 20, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301295098

Cherie De Sues

Chérie De Sues is a "critically acclaimed", "award winning" and "best selling" author of thrillers, paranormal and contemporary suspense romances. A member of Romance Writers of America (RWA), and RWA participant in both the RITA and Prism Awards. Chérie also writes under the pen name of Rose Embyrs for pagan non fiction books which have been in the top 20 bestselling books at Amazon. When Chérie takes a break from writing novels, you can find her at romance conventions, book signings, online, or traveling to research her next novel. She shares her beach cottage on Galveston Island, with her Irish terrier, Reilly.

Book preview

South of the Border

By Chérie De Sues

Black Cat Press mass-market edition published 2010

All rights reserved.

Copyright © 2010 by Chérie De Sues

Cover art copyright © 2010 by Fiona Jayde

Smashwords Edition

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form

or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system

without permission in writing from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third party websites or their content.

DEDICATION

To my son, Scott, who has grown into the marvelous man

I always knew he would someday. Kind, sensitive and

still can't find the mustard in the refrigerator!

To Reilly, my Irish terrier, who has a

great nose for trouble and fun.

Chapter One

The muggy heat swamped Agent Danielle La Rue as she stepped down the rickety metal ramp. The small Mexican twin-engine roared with antique propellers as she met the only flight attendant on the tarmac. Dani grimaced, wondering if the handshake and toothy smile were in some way an apology for the bad flight.

In a handoff worthy of the NFL, a young Hispanic baggage handler laid her bags at her feet. With a last backward scowl at the plane, Dani hoisted up the heavy gear and a camera bag.

Peering through the dust, she saw a small white building in the distance that bore a hand-painted sign in Spanish. She sighed heavily and headed to the customs counter from the promise of a cold soft drink inside.

An icy blast of air cooled her cheeks as she slipped past the out-of-service metal detector. She sneered, appalled at the lack of security, and rolled her eyes at the guards sitting in the corner of the room reading newspapers.

A small elderly man motioned for her to put the two canvas bags on his counter. She complied, pulling out her fake passport, as the octogenarian slowly rummaged through her hurriedly packed items.

Chewing her lip, with her mind on a cold beer and a fish taco, Danielle rolled her tight shoulders for the mission ahead. Her big chance, maybe her only chance, to shine with an assignment that put her into the field.

As one of the newest members of the Drug Enforcement Agency, she hadn’t expected the nod of confidence. Her Section Chief had been clear that she must photograph and investigate the aftermath of a bloody, gun battle of a drug cartel. Eight people were dead, and there were reports from the Mexican police linking members of the Hernández drug cartel.

She understood the assignment had a low risk, but if she did a good job and gave a thorough report, she hoped for better. Like her last boss, the U.S. Navy, seniority seemed everything to the DEA. The men and women who made the assignments followed the pecking order carefully. She had no problem with the system, after eight years of working communications as a Navy SEAL. Hell no, she understood all about seniority.

Special Agent Landers was very specific that this would be her chance to prove her worth, and she’d better not screw the pooch.

The building’s plate glass window, facing the street had layers of filth and she focused through the sludge with narrowed eyes. She had expected her ride to be waiting for her, where was he?

The agency arranged for a local Agent known for his arm’s length of Mexican contacts, to take her to Santiago Astata, on the Pacific coast. The man didn't punch a card for the DEA , and he might be one of those cowboys for the Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms agency. The ATF and DEA often worked together on Mexican drug cartels for mutual interest. Where there were drugs, there were guns. She chewed her lip. The ATF boys were a wild bunch and had a reputation of making their own rules in the field.

The elderly man returned her passport and she zipped up the bags.

Her eyes moved to the soda machines, and winced as she read the Spanish word vacío, empty. Danielle groaned as she unzipped her bag again and pulled out a warm bottle of water. The tasteless liquid didn’t satiate her thirst, but at least it washed down the sand.

Emptying half the bottle in one gulp, she stuck the remainder in the side pocket of her bag and walked out the front door of the tiny building to wait by the curb.

Dani heard the sound of squealing tires before she saw the vehicle. She glanced up in time to see the jeep lean to the side, practically on two wheels, as the tires took the corner. The scruffy white vehicle bounded toward her and she stood solidly, praying the brakes worked.

As the speed junkie came to a sudden stop, she blew a sigh of relief through her tight lips. She picked up the heavy camera bag and slung the strap over her shoulder as her guide, slash, driver, pulled up. Who in the hell could this be but an ATF maverick.

The dust kicked up by the Jeep's sudden stop, surrounded her in a storm of choking dry sand. She glanced through the filthy window and the smug smile on the rugged charmer behind the wheel, who'd just ground into her last nerve.

She let out a low purr, as her body responded to the dark curly hair worn longer in the back and a body made for the San Diego Chargers.

He stood on the seat and looked around the village, until his brown eyes and long lashes dropped into hers. He lifted a brow and scanned her like an MRI, as his mind went places she didn’t have time for at the moment.

Sticking out a stubborn jaw, she walked over to the Jeep, set her bags into the back, and waited for the man to introduce himself. He would be Agent Carlos Mesa, transplanted to Mexico to keep an eye on the drug cartel in the area.

Sorry, this ride is for Dani La Rue, and you don’t fit the qualifications. His eyes roamed over her body, as if he’d been in the desert too long without a drink. Believe me, I’m sorrier about this than you are, but there’s a taxi service phone just inside the airport.

His sexy grin may have been a compliment, but she didn’t intend to allow him to reduce her to a blonde bimbo. Behind her, the tiny puddle jumper she’d traveled in, roared for takeoff to its next destination, and her patience went on empty.

Look Carlos, I’m Dani and you’re taking me south on the 200 highway. Now. Her voice growled low and demanding, the last thing she needed would be another chauvinistic Agent.

As she climbed into the passenger seat, he'd lost the grin