South Beach Sizzles Collection

By Charity Pineiro

Savor the Sizzle with four unique and different stories set in Miami's sexy and glamorous South Beach!

NOW AND ALWAYS

Connie Gonzalez is a driven, ambitious woman who is one of the FBI’s best agents and determined to prove herself in a man’s world. Assigned to the Miami Bureau, Connie soon finds herself going undercover in Miami's glamorous South Beach area. An injury throws her together with the very rich and tempting Dr. Victor Cienfuegos. Victor is everything Connie should avoid, but despite the risks of her work and allowing any distractions, Connie cannot deny the attraction between herself and the sexy physician. Will danger keep them apart or is their love strong enough to survive for now and always?

FAITH IN YOU

Paul Stone accepts Connie Gonzalez’s invitation to join her for a traditional and fun-filled Cuban Christmas Eve dinner. Paul is instantly captivated by her intriguing kid sister. Carmen Gonzalez is leery of the self-assured FBI agent whose upscale upbringing provided him with all he ever needed. . .except love. After a fast-paced courtship, Paul and Carmen are ready to walk down the aisle, blissfully unaware that fate – and their own secret fears – will test their fragile commitment long before they make it to the altar . . . .

TORI GOT LUCKY

Finding Mr. Right wasn’t what she had in mind . . .

When Tori got lucky, she never imagined that her one night fling would turn into something more. But her birthday surprise turns out to be "the one" and before long, she and Gil are talking about making it something a little more permanent.

There’s just one problem. Okay, maybe more than one. Like Tori’s three best friends who fear that once Tori gets married, she’ll disappear as so many of their friends have over the years. And her mother and father who are making all kinds of noises about Tori and Gil’s plans for a quick and simple wedding. Not to mention Tori’s perfect sister with her new little baby. . .

With pressure building from all sides, Tori and Gil do the only possible thing: Elope. But can their new marriage survive the demands of friends, family, and their own insecurities?

Only time will tell whether Tori truly got lucky.

NY Times and USA TODAY Bestseller TO CATCH HER MAN from the Dangerous Dozen Romantic Suspense Boxed Set

Truth tries the bond between a reporter and the detective who nearly died for her.

Handsome cop Carlos Ramirez nearly lost his life protecting reporter Sylvia Amenabar after her investigative report went south. Carlos knows Sylvia is a tough nut with lots of relationship issues, but he’s never been one to give up without a fight. Even if Sylvia has a lot of luggage she’s carrying into their new relationship.

Sylvia has never had time for a real relationship. She’s too busy trying to make a name as one of Miami’s top journalists. Besides, she’s seen what can happen when you make bad choices. Her mother had made that kind of mistake with Sylvia’s playboy father. But when her mother warns her that some men can start an itch that no amount of scratching can stop, Sylvia worries that Carlos might just be that itch.

When her latest investigative report threatens to ruin her best friend’s boyfriend and implicates Carlos as well, Sylvia finds she must discover the truth and clear Carlos---or lose the things she holds most dear.

"(A) terrific South Florida investigative romantic suspense thriller." Harriet Klausner, Amazon Top Reviewer

• Language: English
• Publisher: Caridad Pineiro
• Release date: Aug 6, 2014
• ISBN: 9781498928557

Book preview

SOUTH BEACH SIZZLES COLLECTION

Contemporary Romance Boxed Set

Now and Always

Faith in You

Tori Got Lucky

To Catch Her Man

NY Times and USA Today Bestseller

Charity Pineiro

SOUTH BEACH SIZZLES COLLECTION

Copyright © 2014 by Caridad Pineiro Scordato

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

All texts contained within this document are a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons (living or dead), is entirely coincidental.

SOUTH BEACH SIZZLE COLLECTION cover design © 2014 by Sarah Hansen at Okay Creations

NOW AND ALWAYS by Charity Pineiro

Copyright © 1999 by Caridad Pineiro Scordato

FAITH IN YOU by Charity Pineiro

Copyright © 1999 Caridad Pineiro Scordato

TORI GOT LUCKY by Charity Pineiro

Copyright © 2006 Caridad Pineiro Scordato

TO CATCH HER MAN by Charity Pineiro

Copyright © 2007 Caridad Pineiro Scordato

CONTENTS

NOW AND ALWAYS

Connie Gonzalez is a driven, ambitious woman who is one of the FBI's best agents and determined to prove herself in a man's world.

Assigned to the Miami Bureau, Connie soon finds herself going undercover in Miami's glamorous South Beach area. An injury throws her together with the very rich and tempting Dr. Victor Cienfuegos. Victor is everything Connie should avoid, but despite the risks of her work and allowing any distractions, Connie cannot deny the attraction between herself and the sexy physician. Will danger keep them apart or is their love strong enough to survive for now and always?

FAITH IN YOU

Paul Stone accepts Connie Gonzalez's invitation to join her for a traditional and fun-filled Cuban Christmas Eve dinner. Paul is instantly captivated by her intriguing kid sister. Carmen Gonzalez is leery of the self-assured FBI agent whose upscale upbringing provided him with all he ever needed. . .except love. After a fast-paced courtship, Paul and Carmen are ready to walk down the aisle, blissfully unaware that fate - and their own secret fears - will test their fragile commitment long before they make it to the altar . . . .

TORI GOT LUCKY

Finding Mr. Right wasn’t what she had in mind . . .

When Tori got lucky, she never imagined that her one night fling would turn into something more. But her birthday surprise turns out to be the one and before long, she and Gil are talking about making it something a little more permanent.

There’s just one problem. Okay, maybe more than one. Like Tori’s three best friends who fear that once Tori gets married, she’ll disappear as so many of their friends have over the years. And her mother and father who are making all kinds of noises about Tori and Gil’s plans for a quick and simple wedding. Not to mention Tori’s perfect sister with her new little baby. . .

With pressure building from all sides, Tori and Gil do the only possible thing: Elope. But can their new marriage survive the demands of friends, family, and their own insecurities?

Only time will tell whether Tori truly got lucky.

TO CATCH HER MAN

Truth tries the bond between a reporter and the detective who nearly died for her.

Handsome cop Carlos Ramirez nearly lost his life protecting reporter Sylvia Amenabar after her investigative report went south. Carlos knows Sylvia is a tough nut with lots of relationship issues, but he’s never been one to give up without a fight. Even if Sylvia has a lot of luggage she’s carrying into their new relationship.

Sylvia has never had time for a real relationship. She’s too busy trying to make a name as one of Miami’s top journalists. Besides, she’s seen what can happen when you make bad choices. Her mother had made that kind of mistake with Sylvia’s playboy father. But when her mother warns her that some men can start an itch that no amount of scratching can stop, Sylvia worries that Carlos might just be that itch.

When her latest investigative report threatens to ruin her best friend’s boyfriend and implicates Carlos as well, Sylvia finds she must discover the truth and clear Carlos---or lose the things she holds most dear.

About the Author: Charity Pineiro

Additional Books by the Author

NOW AND ALWAYS

by Charity Pineiro

Now and Always: Chapter One

Miami, Florida

Victor glanced at her resume, certain he wouldn't hire her. She was too young and too inexperienced. Nancy at the personnel office must have been crazy to even send her over. He considered calling the agency to cancel her upcoming interview, but the young woman was probably on her way. Disgustedly, he stared at the empty waiting room of his office. This was going to be a bad day all around.

The temp had misread his note, canceled his appointments for the day, and rescheduled them for tomorrow. Too bad that today was the day he had time for his patients. Tomorrow he was expected in surgery.

Victor dragged a hand through his hair and tried to guess how many of his patients would remain with him if these screw ups continued. And all because his regular nurse/receptionist, Yolanda, had decided to get pregnant.

Damn, he cursed, but Victor wasn't angry at Yolanda. He was sorry that she was now at home, flat on her back until the arrival of the baby in another four or five months. He couldn't wait for her to come back once she had the baby, even if only on a part-time basis. But Yolanda's unexpected defection to the ranks of motherhood had thrown his neat little world into a state of chaos and made him question too many things.

He was supposed to be a triple S if there was such a thing -- thirtySomething, Single, and Successful. An up-and-coming orthopedic surgeon who hopefully would be Chief of Orthopedics sometime this year.

So why was it that with so much supposedly in his favor, at times he didn't know who or what he was any more or what he wanted out of life?

He set aside the resume, drew in a deep breath, and smelled something rank. Looking down at the overflowing wastebasket next to him, he caught a glimpse of the days’ old remains of someone's lunch. Something else the temp couldn't seem to do right, although it defied logic why someone couldn't arrange to keep the wastebaskets clean and the office looking neat.

Victor shook his head, stood, and began to straighten the disorderly piles of magazines and health brochures available for his patients. He walked into the receptionist's area and stopped short. A number of his patients' files were haphazardly stacked on the desk, waiting to topple at the slightest provocation. If they did, it would take hours of work to reorganize them. He reached to balance the precarious pile.

From the other side of the desk someone said Hello, surprising him into jostling a goodly portion of the files onto the floor. They landed in a heap of scattered papers and manila file folders.

He cursed under his breath and glared at the young woman. Couldn't you have knocked at least?

She squared her shoulders and crossed her arms in front of herself. I did, but apparently you didn't hear. She eyed him curiously as he stooped down and shoveled together the papers from the files. If your bedside manner's like this, it's no wonder you have an empty waiting room.

He stopped picking up the papers. Who are you anyway?

Carmen Gonzalez. I'm here for the interview for the nurse/receptionist position, although you look like you're in more of a firing than hiring mood.

He laughed, surprising himself. There was just something about her that made it hard to stay angry. Maybe it was her sauciness or her young eager face. Too young. I'm sorry you wasted your time coming.

You're not even going to interview me? she said softly, her crimson painted lips forming a frown. Look, I know we started off on the wrong foot.

He held his hand up to stop her. It's not you. I'm in a rotten mood and besides, you're too—

Young and too inexperienced, Carmen finished for him. Nancy was afraid that you would say that.

Victor nodded, bent, and returned to gathering the papers. Nancy knows what I want.

And you're certain that I'm definitely not it, she shot back quickly.

He laughed again, shook his head, and glanced at her. Do you always do that?

She looked taken aback and her dark chocolate eyes widened with doubt. Do what?

Finish whatever anyone is saying.

She blushed brightly and looked away. Only when I'm nervous.

Victor doubted that there were many situations in which Carmen could be nervous. She struck him as the cool and capable type. Just like his old receptionist Yolanda who could handle just about anything. Despite that, he needed someone with more job experience, especially with the nightmare his office had become in the last few weeks.

He stood and rearranged the scattered papers and folders into a pile on the desktop. He would have to organize them when he had a precious spare moment. Look, I appreciate your coming down here, but I think Nancy made a mistake. It just wouldn't work. I need someone who can straighten out this mess and handle my patients.

You actually have patients? she teased and glanced around the empty waiting room.

A chuckle worked out of him and he pondered again what it was about her that could make him laugh given the current state of his life. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he had actually been this spontaneous. Not in a long time anyway.

Yes, I do have patients. The problem is that the temp canceled today's appointments and rescheduled them for tomorrow. I have to be in surgery tomorrow. So if you don't mind, I really have to go and start calling them. Hopefully I'll still have some patients left when I'm done. He bent, collected the last of the papers, and dumped them on the desk.

Carmen had yet to move, so he eyed her, wondering why she was still lingering and she finally got the message.

Carmen gave him a disappointed nod and walked away.

The office phone began to ring. The problem was the phone was nowhere to be seen.

Victor searched all over the desk and burrowed under the pile of papers that had once been his files.

Well don't just stand there, he snapped at Carmen. She had stopped at the sound of the ringing and now stood in the middle of the waiting room.

Please help me find the phone, he added more politely, ashamed that he was being rude. That wasn't normally his style, but he had neared his limit of patience.

Carmen shook her head in amusement, picked up the phone they kept for patients to use, and with the quick push of a few buttons, she answered. Dr. Cienfuegos's office.

She glanced at him for further instructions as the garbled sound of someone on the other end of the line drifted over to him.

Victor didn't know how she had done it and didn't care at the moment. He waved for her to go on with the call.

Yes, Mrs. Ruiz. We're sorry that the doctor's temp called to cancel your appointment.

Victor heard the angry burst of Spanish from his position across the room.

Carmen held the phone away and motioned for him to take the call, but he waved his hands and shook his head. The last thing he needed to deal with today was Mrs. Ruiz. He didn't care if she was one of his mother's very rich, very influential friends. She was a royal pain in the ass, generally vicious, and he was in no mood to deal with her today.

Carmen relented and got back on the phone. In Spanish, she calmly explained the mix-up. She reminded Mrs. Ruiz about Victor's problem, what with poor Yolanda having difficulties with her pregnancy and leaving him without help. That seemed to bring a round of commiseration from the other woman.

Yes, of course. I can imagine how hard it was for you, too. I'm sure you can understand how Yolanda feels and how poor Dr. Cienfuegos is trying to handle all this with her gone. You know men are lost without us, Carmen said, earning the other woman's sympathy.

Another burst of Spanish came across the line and then Carmen laughed, a rich, full-throated laugh that reached into her eyes. He grinned, enjoying how she had the shark eating out of her hand. It gave him second thoughts about his earlier decision not to hire her.

Yes, yes, I agree, Carmen said, shaking her head and looking his way. I'm so glad you're not angry. What would be a better day for your next appointment, by the way? She motioned for him to bring over his appointment book and after a few tries, he located it, and brought it out to her.

Carmen plucked the pen from his shirt pocket, sat down, flipped through the pages, and very efficiently rescheduled Mrs. Ruiz for another day.

Thank you very much for being so understanding. She hung up and handed him his appointment book.

There was no way Victor was going to take it. Please reschedule the rest.

She eyed him doubtfully and clutched the book to her chest. I thought you weren't going to hire me.

I'm not. Not yet anyway, he admitted with a grin and a shrug.

He motioned to the phone sitting in the patient's area. How did you do that with the phone and how did you know about Yolanda?

Carmen laughed, her dark eyes sparkling and her smile displaying straight, toothpaste bright teeth. We have the same phone system at the nursing school. I temp there sometimes for Nancy, who happens to be Yolanda's cousin. And you will hire me. Trust me. I'm very determined.

She surely was, he thought with a nod.

Victor walked back toward the receptionist's desk. I'm going to try and straighten out the files.

He stopped short, turned, and asked, You're not planning on getting pregnant any time soon, are you?

You're not allowed to ask that question, she reminded him, waggling a finger.

Victor knew that only too well, but that didn't stop a suddenly mischievous streak from tossing back, Well, I did ask. Are you?

Carmen chuckled and shook her head. If I was, my parents would be checking me into the nearest convent.

He wrinkled his brow, trying to figure out that comment. Why?

She shot him a saucy grin. Because I'm a good Cuban girl and still single. We don't do that kind of thing, Carmen said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

The laughter that erupted from his chest was heartfelt. It made him feel warm and alive, something he hadn't felt in a long time.

Carmen, you are too much.

She nodded, placed the appointment book down, and dialed the next patient on the list. My sister Connie says the same thing.

He stopped short. There are two of you?

She waved him off. We're not twins. Connie's my older sister. My way too serious older sister.

Victor smiled and mumbled again, Too much.

Hey, Dr. Cienfuegos, Carmen called out. You should do that more often.

He faced her, slightly confused. What's that?

Smile. You're kinda cute when you smile.

Now, Carmen. You know you're not supposed to say that kind of thing, he teased, waggling his finger in warning as she had done before.

She grinned saucily. Well, I did.

Victor chuckled and walked away to fix his files. He stopped at the desk and looked back at her as she started making calls. He wasn't going to hire her. She was too young. Too sassy. And as he looked at her, took in for the first time all her too dangerous feminine curves, he wondered if he was dead not to have noticed them before.

He was definitely working too hard.

Now and Always: Chapter Two

Connie Gonzalez slipped on the thin latex gloves before entering the crime scene. She stopped at the door and checked the frame for signs of forcible entry. Not a nick marred the lock or door jamb. The perp had a key or was let in by the victim, she told the agent behind her, who examined the door and agreed.

Easy work, Gonzalez. Any beginner could see that.

So let's see what else we have then. Stepping inside the room, she scanned the interior of the shabby motel room, typical of those backstreet, by the hour establishments. Two mismatched chairs sat beside a scarred table strewn with the remnants of a take-out Chinese dinner for two. She stepped over and opened the containers. One from Column A. One from Column B. Husband says they had finished dinner when he left. Must be light eaters, she commented about the nearly full containers.

The agent behind her grunted, entered the room, and sat down at the table. He picked up a fork and one of the containers. Want some? he asked.

Connie shook her head as he dug into the fried rice and leaned back in the chair.

Sir, I don't know how you can handle that, she said as she approached the bed where the victim lay. Or at least what remained of the victim.

What's the matter, Gonzalez? Stomach a little queasy? he teased as she bent at the knees and made herself face level with the edge of the bed and the body of the victim.

Connie laughed and tossed her shoulder length cap of hair aside. Hell, no. The salt and grease will kill you. Plus the MSG always gives me a headache.

He chuckled and dug back into the fried rice as Connie rose, walked to the other side of the bed and examined the blood splatter patterns on the sheets and victim.

Twelve gauge shotgun. Two blasts. One to the chest. One to the privates. She blushed as she examined the victim's body.

The other agent laughed, nearly choking on the mouthful of rice. That some new technical term, Connie. Privates?

Yes, sir. I petitioned to add it to the FBI dictionary. What do you think? While she waited for his reply, she checked out the bathroom, and after examining the area, returned to the main area of the staged hotel room.

Her superior grabbed an egg roll, waving it as he spoke. I think you need to get a thicker skin. That Catholic school innocence gives the male agents a real opportunity for making you uneasy. Want some egg roll? He held up the victim's purported dinner and as he moved it around, bits of filling flew off.

Can I help it you guys don't have any class? Anyway, let's get this over with. You're making me hungry. Where's the other body? she said and sat down at the table across from him.

This time her superior did choke on the egg roll.

She reached over and pounded his back until he had control.

How did you know there was another body? he asked once he could talk again.

No forced entry. The posture of the victim's body would indicate that she wasn't yet asleep and the sheets were off her even though it's kinda cold in here.

She rubbed her arms against the chill and looked up at the two-way mirror at one side of the room where other instructors were monitoring the test. If it's intentional, please turn up the heat. My Cuban blood can't handle this cold and it's the least you can do for solving this little puzzle.

The instructor sitting across from her laughed and dug back into the pint container of Chinese food. Don't get too cocky, Agent Gonzalez. Or should I say, Agent-in-Training? Since so far you're the only one to have picked up on it, let's hear your theory.

Connie nodded, leaned back in her chair, and confidently laid out her explanation for the crime. As I was saying, the victim was not covered, and the bed, lumpy and soft as it is, shows a deep impression. More than our little 'victim', if she was of average weight for that height, would have made, she said, pointing to the mannequin that had been prepared for the exam.

The husband claims they had been involved with some drug dealing and that his wife was supposed to meet with one of the men.

She chuckled and shook her head in disgust before proceeding. You guys have a twisted idea of what meeting with someone is. Anyway, as I said before, there was no forced entry. The nature of the gunshots is not typical of a drug style execution. The husband claims they ate dinner, but it was barely touched. My guess is, he went to get dinner, came back, and saw through the window that his wife was doing it with someone else. Not too smart on her part, but maybe she thought he would take longer to return. In any case, when he saw what was going on, he lost it, went and got his shotgun, returned, and blew them away. He laid out the dinner to support his story.

The instructor nodded and urged her to go on. What about the other body? Where did it go?

Connie stood, walked over to the mannequin, and pointed to the groin area. I'm assuming you intended these bits of stuff on the mannequin to be brain matter, because it's inconsistent with what would happen to a shotgun blast to the 'privates', she said with a smile, teasing him. So, I'm assuming they were involved in, let's just say something my Catholic school mind would rather not discuss in mixed company.

I knew you were good, the instructor said.

Connie did a mock bow and continued. The plastic liner of the shower curtain is missing from the bathroom and there's no trail of blood from the bed to outdoors. Therefore, the husband likely wrapped his wife’s lover in the shower curtain and took the body elsewhere. That's supported by the small bit of plastic caught on a nail by the door jamb.

The instructor clapped. Very good, Connie. Nice job today.

Thanks. If you don't have anything else, I'd like to go back to the dorm now, she said and walked back to her teacher.

He stood and plopped the pint container of food back onto the table. Big exam tomorrow, right?

Connie nodded. I have some studying to do and I want to call home and see how things are going.

He laid a hand on her shoulder. Don't worry. You're going to pass that test with flying colors. You're the first one to solve this crime and only a few others will get it as quickly as you did. You're one of the best I've had.

I appreciate that vote of confidence. Only the best could choose where they wished to be and she was itching to go home to Miami.

After another few exams, she only had one real hurdle left to go: the self defense test. She hoped that when all was said and done, she would be at the top of her class and buying a ticket back to Miami.

* * *

After a quick dinner in the cafeteria, Connie returned to the small, dormitory style room she shared with one other woman. She sat at her desk, quickly glanced through her e-mail, and seeing nothing urgent, closed her laptop. The various messages could wait until after she talked to her family.

She dialed and the phone rang a few times before her sister Carmen answered.

Hey, sis. How are you? she asked.

Good. What about you? Carmen responded.

I'm fine. Have any luck landing a job yet? Carmen had been looking for a nursing position for once she graduated.

Even if I told you, you'd probably never believe me, Carmen replied.

Connie leaned back in the chair, propped her feet on the desk, and wondered what trouble her sister had gotten into this time. Carmen, with you anything's possible. Please, don't keep me waiting.

Carmen regaled her with the details of her interview with her prospective employer. Connie laughed as Carmen described the look on his face as his files fell on the floor. Her eyes teared up from her amusement as her sister exaggerated the telephone run-in with Mrs. Ruiz.

This guy sounds like he's in real trouble, she said.

Carmen chuckled. Yeah, real trouble. He needed help right away and I felt so bad for him that when he asked me to call everyone, I gave in.

Connie shook her head. Oh no, sis. Don't tell me he's got a pretty face and got you to do the work for free. We didn't raise a fool, you know.

I know, Connie, Carmen said with an exasperated sigh at her sisterly chiding. He offered to pay me.

And you accepted of course, she jumped in.

Now, Connie, don't get all crazy.

Tell me he paid you, Carmen. There was a moment of silence on the line, then her sister laughed--the unrestrained, earthy laugh Connie had missed so much during the months of their separation.

Well? she prompted.

Do you always do that? Carmen asked.

Connie furrowed her brow, trying to imagine what her sister was talking about. I don't get it.

Victor--

It's Victor now? When did that happen? she teased as she slipped her feet off the desk, tucked the cell phone between her ear and shoulder, and gathered her books and study materials.

"Victor asked me if I always finished sentences for other people. So do you?"

Heat crept into her cheeks and Connie was glad her sister was not in the room to witness her embarrassment. All right, you got me. I'll keep quiet while you explain how he got you to do his work for free, didn't hire you, and became Victor all in the course of one day.

Carmen chuckled. "Lighten up. He did pay me for the day and he likes to be informal."

Connie waited for her sister to go on, wondering if she had gotten the job, but Carmen didn't say another word. After fifteen seconds or so, Connie asked, So did he--

Hire me? I knew you couldn't keep quiet, Carmen kidded.

Connie wished her sister was in the room with her so she could provide a sisterly smack to get her in line. Tell me, she pressed and looked at her watch. She had to hit the books shortly.

Do you know he actually had the nerve to ask if I planned on having babies soon? Carmen admitted.

Connie bolted upright in her chair, righteous indignation seething in every pore of her lawyer's body. He's not allowed to ask that. The Neanderthal should know. If he refused to hire you because of that, we'll sue.

Take it easy, my little legal eagle. He admitted he shouldn't have asked, but then again, it's something I wasn't thinking of doing right now.

Her adrenaline going, Connie couldn't stop. I should hope not. At least not until you're married.

Ah, Connie. Earth to Connie, Carmen teased. This is the twenty-first century. People do that now.

But not you, Carmen.

How do you know? her sister said, knocking all the wind out of her sails. Connie's little sister had. . .well, lost it…while Connie was still nearly a virgin at the age of twenty-six. She didn't consider her couple of short college relationships a lot of experience, sexually that was. She didn't know what upset her more, Carmen's active love life or her own chaste state.

Carmen, she said huskily and paused to clear her throat. As long as you took the right precautions.

And as long as her sister wasn’t doing it with that no account Julio from down the block, she thought to herself.

A heavy sigh drifted from the other end of the line. Of course, I do. Don't you?

Connie blushed, hesitated, and then stammered out a quick, Of course. Of course I do. Well, at least the few times she had in any case.

Believe it or not, Victor hired me, even though I was too young and too inexperienced. I don't know why and I don't care. He's paying me well and I'll be able to get experience so I can get another job once Yolanda comes back.

That's great, Carmen. Congratulations. We'll have to celebrate once I get home. Home, she thought with a pang of longing. It had been months since she had been back to the small cinder block house off Calle Ocho in Little Havana.

You know where you're being assigned already? Carmen asked.

Connie hesitated and finally admitting, Well, no. Just wishful thinking on my part.

Con? Carmen asked softly, using her pet nickname for her older sister. The one reserved for important moments or serious ones.

Connie wondered what was suddenly bothering Carmen. What’s up, sis?

Have you talked to Mom and Dad about where you'll be living if you're assigned to Miami?

Connie chewed on her bottom lip. No, but they have to know I'm not going to live at home if I come back to Miami. I mean that’s so Old School.

I know. Still, Mom launched into one of her 'My Daughters' speeches the other day. I think she'll give you a hard time if you tell them you plan on getting your own place.

Connie sighed and dragged a hand through her hair. Well, I'll deal with it if and when I'm lucky enough to get the Miami assignment.

Not to mention good enough, she thought, suddenly assailed by doubt.

Okay. I won't say anything. Besides they're not home right now. Want me to have them call you later?

No. I'll be at the library studying. Tell them I'll call tomorrow. Carmen?

Yes, Con. What is it now? Carmen said with a sigh, as if waiting for Connie to chide her about something.

Connie smiled, certain she would catch Carmen off guard. You never told me if he was cute or not?

Who? Victor? Carmen said, obviously playing dumb.

Of course, Victor. Who else?

There was a long, drawn out moment over the phone line as her sister considered it. I don't think he's your type at all, Connie.

And yours? she teased.

No way, came the immediate reply. He's much too old.

Connie pictured him, wondering what he looked like from Carmen's sparse references. The picture of a cigarette-smoking, paunchy, sixty-something male chauvinist immediately came to mind. Well, I hope he's not so old that you'll be looking for another job in a few weeks.

I said old, not ancient. I think he'll be around for a while.

Carmen stopped for a second and laughed. The kind of laugh that told Connie her sister wasn't being totally truthful. Okay, Carmen, spill the beans. What's with this doctor of yours?

Don't worry, Connie. You have to go, remember, so take care. I'll talk to you soon.

Connie stared at the phone for a second after Carmen ended the call, wondering what her sister was keeping to herself. Then she grabbed her things, slipped them into a well-worn knapsack that had seen her through law school and now nearly thirteen weeks at the FBI Academy. She hoped that in another two weeks, she would retire the knapsack forever as she left the academic realm and jumped into the real world.

That was, if she could nail all her exams. She rose, heading to the library for another long night of studying. This was too important to leave anything to chance.

* * *

Connie stared at the results posted on the bulletin board and smiled. Her joy was short lived, however.

So, Speedy Gonzalez. Think you're one up on us, don't you, she heard from behind her.

She looked over her shoulder and upward as she stared at the man who had been the bane of her existence for the last two and a half months.

Paul Stone was handsome, intelligent, wealthy, and he made sure everyone knew it with his inbred arrogance. A native Floridian, he had grown up in, as he said it, Myah-muh, and considered Connie just one of the thousands of Cuban cockroaches who had invaded his city.

You have a problem, Stone? She faced him and crossed her arms before her in a challenging pose.

He leaned closer, towering over her as he looked at the test grades and standings. You're number one. I'm number two, but not for long, he said as he shifted away, but still remained close.

That self defense test. He tsked and shook his head in chastisement. Pretty little thing like you is going to have a hard time, darlin'.

Connie, barely over five feet, craned her neck to examine his six foot plus height and too broad shoulders. Well, you know what they say. The bigger they are--

The harder they fall, he finished for her with a decidedly assured masculine smile. Not this time, Speedy. Give me a call in Myah-muh from wherever you're assigned. He waved and was about to walk away when Connie stopped him by laying a hand on his arm. She took a piece of paper from a pad, jotted down a number, and handed the slip to him.

Stone took it and scrutinized it for a second, a deep furrow across his brow. What's this?

Connie smiled. It's the number for the Miami Bureau office, she said, pronouncing it Mee-ah-mee as the Cubans did. "Call me, Stone and I'll let you know how things are going in Mee-ah-mee."

She left him standing there, open-mouthed. But even as she tried to put his words out of her mind, she knew he was right. The self defense test tomorrow would be the hardest challenge. Especially if their instructor decided to test her mettle by pitting her against someone like Stone, who had at least a foot of height and a hundred pounds on her.

But she could do it, she reminded herself. She was a black belt and well-versed in martial arts.

She would knock Stone flat on his ass if she had to in order to get back home.

* * *

She stood on the mat in her ghi, waiting as the instructor explained the scenario to the class. Also dressed in the traditional martial arts garb of a loose white jacket and pants, a black belt around his waist, he walked around the circle of men and women who would one day be FBI agents. His hands were held loosely behind his back as he strolled and dictated the terms of the test.

Class. As I indicated earlier, there will be bodily contact in this test just as one day in the field you will be required to defend yourselves. Of course, it is to be light bodily contact. We don't want anyone to be injured during the exam.

The instructor returned to the center of the mat and faced her. Gonzalez. You have earned the honor of being the first one tested today. Let's see, he said, looking around the circle of students once more.

He smiled and Connie cringed as his eyes settled on her worst nightmare.

Stone, please join us. You will be the perp in this scenario. Also, please bring that pipe with you, the instructor said, pointing to the long, heavy, hard rubber rod used in lieu of the real thing.

Stone grinned, picked up the rod, and tossed it into the air, where it flipped end over end before landing in his hand with a loud slap. He remained on the edge of the circle, five or so feet from Connie and the instructor, who outlined the remainder of the test.

Gonzalez, you have chased the perp into a confined area. You have also lost your firearm along the way. Having cornered the perp, he has grabbed the nearest weapon--a piece of pipe. It is up to you to disarm him and get the cuffs on.

The instructor tossed her the handcuffs which she tucked behind her back into the black belt around her waist.

Stone moved a little closer and flipped the hard rubber rod into the air again.

Connie backed away, wanting to keep him at a distance where hopefully her smaller size would give her the ability to outmaneuver him.

Stone maintained the space between them, circling, the pipe held loosely in his hand. A too satisfied grin on his face, as if he had already beaten her in the exam.

Did I mention that the perp is a psychopath who has just gunned down two other agents and who will stop at nothing to get away? the instructor advised.

Stone smiled with undisguised glee. Despite the earlier words about no injuries, the instructor had pretty much just given him free rein during the test.

A sickening feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. It lasted for about a second.

Stone charged at her, arms open wide, but she skipped away from his lumbering attack and delivered a quick punch to his ribs.

Stone grunted in pain and faced her, his grin gone and anger blossoming at the chuckling and murmurs from their classmates that she had gotten in the first strike.

She put her hands up in a fighting stance, waiting for him to rush forward again, but having felt the bite of her punch, he acted more cautiously. Feinting that he was going to attack, he tried to draw her in, but she would have none of that. With their size difference, she couldn't allow him to get a hold on her.

Class. Notice how Agent Gonzalez is keeping her distance. Being patient to wait for the right moment, the instructor advised.

She tried not to let his words distract her, keeping her eyes on Stone. Circling him, but Stone's patience was clearly at an end.

He heaved the rubber rod to distract her. She shot her left arm up to block the blow and the rod connected with a sickening thud, then a snap. Fiery pain seared along her arm from her wrist to elbow and black circles danced before her eyes as waves of pain engulfed her.

Sensing her weakness, Stone rushed her.

Through the agony, years of training and instinct took over.

She feinted that she was going down as he came at her. When he was near enough, she snapped up and kicked out. Her foot caught him straight in the groin. He stopped short, like a bull elephant shot dead in its tracks, and she completed her task. With a quick jab to his face with her good right hand, she knocked him out.

He hit the mat hard beside her, obviously dazed.

Cradling her one arm to her stomach, fighting the roiling nausea caused by the pain, she grabbed the cuffs at her back, sat on Stone's behind and slipped the cuffs over one wrist and then another.

Circles of dark and light danced in front of her eyes from the shards of agony shooting through her left arm. She took a deep breath and somehow managed to push upright.

From the mat, Stone roused, moaned, and mumbled a curse. He fought against the handcuffs, but she had the restraints on securely.

Facing the instructor, her vision fading, she nodded to confirm she was done with the test.

Then she landed with a thud on the mat beside Stone.

Now and Always: Chapter Three

Victor entered his waiting room, already twenty minutes late for his afternoon appointments thanks to an emergency surgery he'd had to finish.

I'll be ready in a minute, he called out to Carmen as he smiled at the patients waiting for him, noticing one who was not familiar.

He entered his office and jerked to a stop. A tuxedo and shirt hung on the door of his closet. He stuck his head back out. Carmen, can you help me for a second?

Carmen scooped together the files for the first few patients and headed into his office.

Victor sat at his desk, shuffling through some papers. As Carmen walked in, he pointed to the closet door, and she looked at the clothes hanging there.

Nice monkey suit, she said, smiling, and handed him the files.

He flipped open the first one and took a moment to review the details for the first patient. "Please put Señora Rivera in Number One. Now, let's get back to that, he replied, motioning in the direction of the tuxedo once more. What is that doing in my office?"

She made a face, and Victor knew the answer even before she spoke. My mother came by to make sure I didn't forget her latest little social function. He didn't want to do anything tonight but go home and get some sleep. It had been a difficult week at the hospital and the demands of his private practice had been steadily growing.

There's a special ballet tonight to raise money for the hospital. Your mother wants you at the Convention Center at eight o'clock. Carmen made another face and handed him the next patient's file, which he took and reviewed as well.

Room Two, was all he said, until she began to walk out the door.

Carmen, he called out.

She stopped and turned. Yes, Victor.

He rose and walked over to her. He placed a hand along her shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. Don't let my mother get to you.

Carmen blushed and glanced away. Your mother makes me feel like something she should scrape off the bottom of her shoe.

He took a deep breath. I'm sorry. I'll talk to her about her attitude.

Carmen waved her hands to stop him. No. No way. I don't need you fighting my battles. If and when she crosses the line, I'll do the talking, believe me. But in the meantime, my parents raised me to be a lady, so I'll bite my tongue.

He gave her shoulder another friendly squeeze. Thanks. My mother should have more of your class.

She smiled. "Even if I'm a poor, no account balsera?"

Victor sighed. His mother, as well as some of the older Cuban exiles, had strong, generally bad feelings towards the later exiles that risked their lives to cross the Florida straits in rafts. That didn't mean his mother had to be rude, especially to someone like Carmen, who had worked hard to make something of herself. I think my mother could learn a thing or two from you, so don't let her get to you.

Carmen nodded and handed him another file. I'll have them in the examining rooms in a few minutes. Let's get going or you'll never make the ballet. She did a quick pirouette out of his office, leaving him laughing.

Victor grabbed the patient's file and sat back down at his desk. He took a detailed look at it before slipping on his white lab jacket and heading into the first examining room.

* * *

He and Carmen worked a ballet of their own, pulling files, checking out patients, and scheduling new appointments and tests.

After two hours, just one patient remained in the waiting room--the unfamiliar woman he had first seen as he had walked in. As he left the examining room, Carmen handed him a brand new file and closed the door to his office as he sat at his desk.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye as he leafed through the medical record in the patient's file. I don't get it.

She blurted out, She's not one of your regulars. Actually, she probably can't afford your rates. She's on Medicaid and getting treatment down at one of the free clinics. But she's my parents' neighbor and friend and she's been having problems.

He raised his hand and stopped her rambling. You know I don't take patients like her.

Carmen bristled. "She has a name. Señora de Castro. She's eighty-six and has pain everyday from a wrist that hasn't healed properly since she fell and broke it six months ago."

Victor held his hands out to her, pleading. You know how it works. No matter what I may want to do, they'll refuse to pay for tests and treatment. I won't be able to treat her the way I want to.

You know that we can get things covered if we battle enough, Carmen urged and braced her hands on his desk and leaned forward to emphasize her point.

"You just said it. Battle. I don't have time for battles."

She raised one artfully tweezed brow. You don't have time for an eighty-six year old woman in pain? That's right. It's more important to be at the ballet.

Victor raised his hand in a stop gesture, hating it when she was right, and knowing she would not stop until he gave in. Fine. Please put her in Examining Room One and tell her I'll be with her in a few minutes. Who's the lady with her?

Her daughter.

He nodded. Ask her in also, so she knows what's going on.

Carmen reached over the desk and hugged him impulsively. Thank you, Victor. You're a good guy under all that money.

Yeah, right. Just this once, okay? He waggled a finger at her, but it was clear it wouldn't sink in. He just wondered how many more stray patients Carmen would drag in.

After a quick look at Señora de Castro's wrist, he was certain of what to do to help her. Why hadn't her regular doctor seen the same? he wondered. Still, all that mattered was that her pain would be gone. As the old woman passed a gnarled hand across his cheek and thanked him, he remembered for a second what it was about medicine that had drawn him. And he realized how far he had gotten from the ideal that he had prized so deeply.

But not today.

By the time he finished examining the older woman it was close to eight. He would be late for his mother's little event, but despite the tongue lashing he would surely receive, he didn't care.

He quickly changed into his tuxedo, a smile on his face, and left Carmen behind to close up the office.

Hey, Victor, she called out from behind the receptionist's desk as he walked by.

Yes, Carmen. What is it? he stopped to ask, straightening his hastily done bow tie.

You're too cute when you smile, you know. Watch out for all those debutante sharks. They'll eat you alive.

His smile broadened. Go home, Carmen. I'll see you in the morning, he said with a parting wave and left the office located in one of the nicer downtown areas. Within minutes he had reclaimed his car from the parking lot and was driving the red Corvette convertible--a gift to himself after his third year in practice--across the causeway and into the South Beach area.

Instead of turning down Washington Avenue to head straight to the Convention Center, he kept on going, slipping onto Ocean Drive instead for a slow cruise through the Art Deco section with all its renovated buildings sporting bright pastel colors. Their neon lights brought the night to vivid life.

He cruised past the Colony, Breakwater, Lario's, and further down at the other end of the strip, Versace's former mansion and the Cardozo, all decked out in their finery, with new life teeming again. At the end of the strip, signs proclaimed the availability of new condos and rentals in the upscale high-rise buildings that had just been finished.

Victor had to admire the spirit of the enterprising souls who were keeping South Beach's rebirth going strong.

Minutes later, he was at the Jackie Gleason Convention Center. He wheeled his car in front of the building and handed his keys to a valet with a warning about the care of his precious automobile. The valet, a young man of about eighteen, nearly drooled as he got behind the wheel of the souped-up Corvette and pulled away from the curb, the exhaust emitting a sexy growl.

Victor walked up the steps of the Convention Center. As he entered, he noticed the people still lounging around in the vestibule and was glad he wasn't so late as to have missed the start of the show.

Victor. Victor, over here, someone called and he turned in the direction of the summons.

His mother waved at him from a few yards away, the diamonds and gold on her fingers and wrist winking beneath the bright lights in the lobby. He walked over, gave her a tight hug, and shook his father's hand.

We were worried you weren't going to make it, his mother admonished, brushing away a speck of imaginary lint from his lapel.

I had some last minute patients.

His mother shook her head. More than likely that incompetent little nurse made you late.

Mother, Carmen is a wonderful nurse. I'll probably keep her on after Yolanda comes back.

Please, Victor. That girl is so low class, his mother said and looked around the room, waving gaily to someone across the way.

Victor examined his mother, taking in the expensive designer gown. Jewelry dripped at her ears, throat, and wrist. Thirty years ago it hadn't been there. Thirty years ago she had cleaned someone else's home and babysat the neighbor's kids while his father had tried to earn a living.

When had she forgotten about all that sacrifice?

I'm keeping her, mother, he warned, as if Carmen were some toy they were fighting over.

She flipped her hand dismissively, bracelets jangling, and ended the disagreement. Fine, Victor. If that's the kind of people you want to socialize with, what can I say?

He should have pointed out that he didn't socialize with Carmen, he employed her. But that wouldn't make a difference to his mother. She preferred this element, he thought, looking around. Everywhere people smiled, chatted cheerily with companions, but he wondered how many of them would have rather been somewhere else, just as he would. He suspected Carmen, or her family, might have little need for this kind of show. If and when they went to the ballet, it was because they wanted to, and not just because it happened to be an event on this week's list of things to do. If and when they wanted to have fun, they would.

Not like this elegant, decidedly boring gathering, he thought with a wistful sigh, recollecting the much more joyous parties of his childhood.

He would run around in his modest home, chased by an assortment of cousins and friends, engaged in game of tag. Adults mingled and as he played, he would hear the snippets of conversation about Cuba and Fidel. About last night's Yankees game and whether Miami would ever have its own baseball team or when it had finally happened, if they would ever win a Series.

In the kitchen, the women would be preparing mounds of food redolent with aromas that spiced every molecule of air in the house and even wafted outdoors.

He sighed deeply, shaking his head. Those had been the days of fun and good times.

His mother grasped his forearm, startling him out of his reverie.

Time to go in, Victor, she said.

Victor turned to go with her, but then he spotted the woman at the far edge of the crowd. He was lucky to have seen her, he realized. She was all of five foot, two or three inches over, at a maximum. Petite, but with curves that a sequined, sapphire blue gown clung to lovingly. She took a step and the gown parted, revealing a surprisingly long, well-shaped leg for someone that petite. Desire roused and he took a deep breath to control himself.

Victor, come on, his mother chided and plucked at his arm.

He spared one last glance at the young woman and wondered what her shoulders would look like when she removed the short gold bolero jacket that hid them from his eyes. He would have to track her down after the ballet. He noticed with amusement that beneath the sleeve of the jacket there was the clear bulkier line of a cast that continued downward to her wrist. A perfect way for him to start a conversation.

Later, he thought, and reluctantly followed his parents into the hall.

* * *

Connie checked out the crowd, searching for her suspect. The vestibule was nearly filled, people packed back to back, making it difficult to identify the man for whom they were searching.

Well, Gonzalez? Any luck? she heard over her earpiece.

No. Are you sure your informant's reliable? The hidden mike registered her voice, sending it to her partner. She strolled to the edge of the crowd as they filtered into the hall for the ballet.

He's always been right on before, came the loud reply in her ear.

Easy, Roberts, or everyone will hear you, she joked and hoped he would take a hint and tone it down to save her hearing. She walked around slowly again, remaining in the lobby as the last stragglers filtered in for the performance.

No luck. I'm on my way in, she replied and headed out to the mobile communications unit parked behind the Convention Center. Her partner, Jeff Roberts, a fifteen year veteran of the FBI, met her in the truck, which was being manned by two other agents. Portable cameras had been set up as well, providing views of the entrance and the back of the Convention Center.

Didn't see him outside, Jeff advised and reached for a cup of coffee.

Maybe he's a latecomer, Connie replied. She sat down on one of the stools and took off the three inch high heels necessary for the dress. I'll be glad when tonight is over. My feet are killing me. She accepted a cup of coffee from one of the agents monitoring the cameras and radio.

I bet he shows for the end of the benefit. He'll have the money and his contact will have the plates, Jeff advised.

I hope you're right. If those plates get into the wrong hands, there'll be a lot of fake hundreds hitting the streets, Connie acknowledged, then sat back for a moment of quiet before having to return to the crowd. As she rested, she stole an occasional glimpse at the grainy color monitors. There was little activity going on at the moment. In what seemed like minutes instead of an hour, she was back at work, strolling around inside with the fundraiser patrons while Jeff waited in a car outside in case they needed to go after the suspects.

Connie was standing to one side, watching the people exit the hall, when she saw him. Not her suspect, but the tall, good-looking man who had been eyeing her earlier that night. He was at least six-foot and leanly muscled, with classic features. Light eyes, she surmised although from this distance it was tough to tell the exact color.

Not her type, she lied to herself.

Anything, Connie? Jeff asked over the earpiece.

Nothing, she replied and reminded herself she was here to catch a counterfeiting suspect and not check out handsome men.

She scrutinized the patrons in the lobby again, but had no luck. If their man was around, he was hiding well. Connie was about to head outside to the steps of the center when someone stepped in her way.

A broad chest blocked her view and she looked up into the face she had been admiring just moments earlier. Warmth drifted up her neck at the thought he might have noticed that persual.

As her gaze met his, she realized he had blue eyes. Incredibly blue and gorgeous.

Excuse me, she apologized, uneasy at being that close and needing to get by him to head outside.

He raised his hand in apology. No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to just run into you.

Connie hoped he wouldn't notice the flush on her cheeks. He held out his hand and began to introduce himself. Victor--

Look, I really have to go, she replied, moving away from him, but he grabbed her hand, keeping her beside him, and a jolt of warmth traveled up her arm from the contact.

Please, don't go, he said, smiling. A smile that had her taking a deep breath to slow the quickening beat of her heart.

Connie. Connie! What's going on? Jeff bellowed.

She winced from Jeff's volume and pulled her hand out of the stranger's grasp. Look. You seem really nice, but I'm working.

A stunned look crossed the man's face. Working? You're a working girl?

Gotta run, she said and rushed away, searching the crowd for their suspect.

Victor watched her go. When had hookers gotten so upscale?

Well, maybe the high class call girls, he thought, thinking it a shame. She had too much refinement to be a prostitute. He shrugged, slipped his parking ticket stub out of his pocket, and hurried outside. His obligation to his mother was done and he wanted nothing more than to head home and slip into bed.

Sadly, to an empty bed.

He walked outside and handed the valet his ticket. As he stood on the steps, a flash of sapphire blue caught his eye. His working girl was at the curb, leaning into the window of a car, and speaking to someone. Apparently she had found her companion for the night.

Victor smiled with some measure of satisfaction as he realized they wouldn't be going anywhere real soon. The car had gotten boxed in.

The man in the car got out, and as he did so, a black Jaguar that had been parked at the far end of the curb, clear of the other traffic, pulled away with a screech of tires against the pavement.

The young woman he had admired earlier waved at the older man and pointed toward his Corvette as the valet brought it around. The man flagged down the valet who stopped and got out of the car, a puzzled look on his face.

It took Victor a second to realize that his working girl and the older man were both flashing badges as they jumped into his car. Victor sprinted down the steps, but they slammed shut the doors of the Corvette and peeled away from the center, tires burning rubber from the sudden acceleration. Victor's Corvette quickly made up the distance on the Jaguar and was right on the Jaguar's rear end as both cars fishtailed around a corner and roared out of view.

Victor cursed. It was definitely not his night.

Now and Always: Chapter Four

Victor glanced at his watch for the fifth time in the last twenty minutes and cursed. His one free night and he was stuck in the office, waiting for Carmen's older sister. To hear Carmen tell it, her way too serious, too-hardworking, FBI Agent sister. But nevertheless, the perfect sister according to Carmen.

Despite Carmen's sisterly pride, Victor suspected Connie was probably either boring as hell or an uptight career woman. He glanced at her file one more time and then at his watch. He would give her another five minutes, no more. He didn't care that Carmen's sister had broken her arm in Virginia and now needed a Miami area doctor to take over her care. If she needed him so