Rescuing Carmen, page 1
Rescuing Carmen
Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists
BRAVO Team
Book 3
Ellie Masters
JEM Publishing
Copyright © 2022 Ellie Masters
Rescuing Carmen
All rights reserved.
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This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this print book ONLY. No part of this print book may be reproduced, scanned, transmitted, or distributed in any printed, mechanical, or electronic form without prior written permission from Ellie Masters or JEM Publishing except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
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Image/art disclaimer: Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.
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Editor: Erin Toland
Proofreader: Roxane Leblanc
Published in the United States of America
JEM Publishing
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This is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, businesses, places, and incidents are either 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.
978-1-952625-41-1
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my one and only—my amazing and wonderful husband.
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Without your care and support, my writing would not have made it this far.
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You pushed me when I needed to be pushed.
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You supported me when I felt discouraged.
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You believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.
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If it weren’t for you, this book never would have come to life.
Also by Ellie Masters
The LIGHTER SIDE
Ellie Masters is the lighter side of the Jet & Ellie Masters writing duo! You will find Contemporary Romance, Military Romance, Romantic Suspense, Billionaire Romance, and Rock Star Romance in Ellie’s Works.
YOU CAN FIND ELLIE’S BOOKS HERE:
ELLIEMASTERS.COM/BOOKS
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Military Romance
Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists
Rescuing Melissa
(Get a FREE copy of Rescuing Melissa
when you join Ellie’s Newsletter)
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Alpha Team
Rescuing Zoe
Rescuing Moira
Rescuing Eve
Rescuing Lily
Rescuing Jinx
Rescuing Maria
* * *
Bravo Team
Rescuing Angie
Rescuing Isabelle
Rescuing Carmen
Rescuing Rosalie
Rescuing Kaye
* * *
Military Romance
Guardian Personal Protection Specialists
Sybil’s Protector
Lyra’s Protector
* * *
The One I Want Series
(Small Town, Military Heroes)
By Jet & Ellie Masters
each book in this series can be read as a standalone and is about a different couple with an HEA.
Saving Abby
Saving Ariel
Saving Brie
Saving Cate
Saving Dani
Saving Jen
* * *
Rockstar Romance
The Angel Fire Rock Romance Series
each book in this series can be read as a standalone and is about a different couple with an HEA. It is recommended they are read in order.
Ashes to New (prequel)
Heart’s Insanity (book 1)
Heart’s Desire (book 2)
Heart’s Collide (book 3)
Hearts Divided (book 4)
Hearts Entwined (book5)
Forest’s FALL (book 6)
Hearts The Last Beat (book7)
* * *
Contemporary Romance
Firestorm
(Kristy Bromberg’s Everyday Heroes World)
* * *
Billionaire Romance
Billionaire Boys Club
Hawke
Richard
Brody
* * *
Contemporary Romance
Cocky Captain
(Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward’s Cocky Hero World)
* * *
Romantic Suspense
each book is a standalone novel.
The Starling
* * *
~AND~
* * *
Science Fiction
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Ellie Masters writing as L.A. Warren
Vendel Rising: a Science Fiction Serialized Novel
To My Readers
This book is a work of fiction. It does not exist in the real world and should not be construed as reality. As in most romantic fiction, I’ve taken liberties. I’ve compressed the romance into a sliver of time. I’ve allowed these characters to develop strong bonds of trust over a matter of days.
This does not happen in real life where you, my amazing readers, live. Take more time in your romance and learn who you’re giving a piece of your heart to. I urge you to move with caution. Always protect yourself.
Contents
1. Carmen
2. Rafe
3. Carmen
4. Rafe
5. Carmen
6. Rafe
7. Carmen
8. Carmen
9. Rafe
10. Carmen
11. Rafe
12. Rafe
13. Carmen
14. Carmen
15. Rafe
16. Carmen
17. Rafe
18. Rafe
19. Carmen
20. Carmen
21. Rafe
22. Rafe
23. Carmen
24. Rafe
25. Rafe
26. Carmen
27. Carmen
28. Rafe
29. Rafe
30. Carmen
31. Rafe
32. Carmen
33. Carmen
34. Carmen
35. Rafe
36. Carmen
37. Carmen
38. Carmen
39. Rafe
40. Carmen
41. Rafe
42. Carmen
43. Rafe
44. Carmen
45. Carmen
46. Carmen
47. Carmen
48. Rescuing Rosalie
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ELLZ BELLZ
Also by Ellie Masters
About the Author
Connect with Ellie Masters
Final Thoughts
The End
One
Carmen
My roommates, and best friends, Kaye and Barbi, dance around me in their cap and gowns, excited to finally graduate from UCSF. They’re ready to cut loose and have a night out on the town, excited for their futures.
I wish I was as excited as them, but my future isn’t mine to control.
“We did it!” Kaye lifts her arms overhead, overjoyed and triumphant.
“Yes, we did!” Barbi hugs Kaye, then grabs hold of my arm, bringing me in for a group hug.
It’s a beautiful afternoon in San Francisco. The sun beat back the morning fog from the Bay, leaving clear, blue sky overhead. That sun shines, warming our faces and chasing away the lingering chill in the air. The aroma from scores of champagne bottles popping open at the same time swirls around us in a festive fizz, infusing the air with its sweet scent. It’s the perfect day to celebrate the end of a long four years at UCSF.
A group of co-graduates stands off to the side, shaking more bottles of champagne before opening them. The fizzy foam shoots into the air as they guzzle down what’s left in the bottle. They laugh. They smile. They egg each other on. Graduation gowns twirl and lift as they jump in the air and spin around. It’s hard not to let a smile creep across my face. I should be happy, like them.
Kaye grabs my hands, trying to get me to join in the dancing, but my attention snags on the motorcade parked next to the curb. The jubilant bounce in my step dies and that joyous feeling falters.
“What’s wrong?” Barbi props her hands on her hips. “You look like someone killed your puppy. Come on… We gotta celebrate.” She grabs me and spins me around. “Dance with me.”
Knowing Father’s security personnel watch from inside those vehicles, I let Barbi spin me around once, then pull away and act the way a woman of my station, and breeding, is supposed to act.
Undeterred, Barbi cups her hands over her mouth and shouts into the air. “Watch out San Francisco! We’re going to own the town tonight. Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!” She punches the air and bounces up and down.
Beneath our graduation gowns, we’re dressed for a night on the town. The plan is dinner, then dancing. The form-fitting red silk of my skimpy dress pairs phenomenally with expensive four-inch heels. They make my tanned legs look fantastic.
Kaye joins in with Barbi, shouting at the top of her lungs. Our fellow graduates hoot and holler with my friends as they spill out onto the street and head to their celebrations.
Their exhilaration is palpable. Overwhelming. They’re excited.
Everyone, but me.
It never crossed my mind Father would send his men to collect me on the day of graduation. I figured I had at least the night to say goodbye to my friends.
I wish I could join Kaye and Barbi. We had the best night planned, but the Bentley, with its motorcade, makes that impossible.
With lead and tail SUVs full of security personnel, any joy that comes from graduating UCSF summa cum laude disappears between one beat of my heart and the next.
“Ladies, I have to bow out.” The words tumble from my lips before I hide my disappointment.
“Bow out of graduation night?” Kaye, with her pert lips and perfect pout, looks at me through fake lashes and far too much makeup. She layers it on, both in makeup and personality. “But we’ve been planning this night for months. You can’t bow out.” Her lower lip pushes out in a pout.
“I’ve been summoned home.” I gesture toward the motorcade.
“No way.” Kaye turns with Barbi toward the street. Her jaw drops. “You really are a big wig.”
They know my father’s the Minister of the Interior for Nicaragua, but it’s clear they have no idea what that means or dismiss its importance because Nicaragua is a small country compared to the United States of America.
Kaye hits the nail on the head, however, but misses one small detail. I’m not the big wig. That distinctive honor belongs to my father, Maximus Angelo. The only man more powerful than my father is the president of Nicaragua, although some might argue my father holds more power than the president.
“Why is there a motorcade and a Bentley waiting for you?” Barbi's eyes practically pop out of her head. Like Kaye, her lower lip pushes out. They’re disappointed by the change in plans. This was supposed to be our night, a time to celebrate.
“That’s Father flexing his paternal muscles.” It’s his way of telling me play time’s over. He’s indulged me long enough, and it’s time to come home. In typical, overbearing fashion, Father delivers the message with no room to misinterpret his intent.
“Down with the patriarchy!” Kaye and Barbi shout the feminist slogan at the cars, getting those milling about to join in.
The crowd around us echoes the words, not understanding the context, while I lift my shoulders to my ears and try to disappear.
I get their enthusiasm, but they don’t understand how very different our two worlds are or how precious their freedom is. Not to mention, there’s no way I want to be associated with anything remotely connected to taking down the patriarchy.
My father is the embodiment of everything the patriarchy encompasses, and my survival depends on supporting him. Support, in this context, means ensuring I marry into a family with the wealth and political power to further his aspirations for power.
In America, young women have the freedom to determine their path in life. In Nicaragua, that’s not how the world works. Daughters submit to the will of their fathers. Wives submit to the demands of their husbands. Widows submit to the decisions their sons make as head of the household. There is no freedom for a woman to pick and choose. Women who try find themselves quickly silenced.
This is something I know far too well. It’s the story of my life, but times are changing.
I hope.
“Ladies, I wish I could stay, but I can’t ignore this summons.”
“Don’t spoil tonight.” Kaye takes my hands in hers. “We’ve been planning this for ages.”
Barbi's brows bunch as she scans the motorcade. “He couldn’t give you one night?” More than Kaye, Barbi reads the situation. She understands the message.
“Doesn’t look like it.” My shrug is as defeated as I feel. Ruining our graduation celebration, especially after spending so much time planning it, turns my stomach. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t let him steal your dreams or extinguish your light. You’re meant for more than marriage and babies.” Barbi folds me in a hug.
Yeah, Barbi gets it.
Kaye? Not so much.
“Just don’t go.” Kaye hugs me next. “We’ll make a run for it.”
“In four-inch heels?” I laugh as we hug for what is likely the last time. My time in the United States is measured in hours.
My role may be that of a docile and obedient daughter, but these past four years, I armed myself with knowledge. Knowledge and something far more powerful.
If I can pull it off.
If I don’t get caught.
A man I know well climbs out of the Bentley and stands beside it. Juan Sanchez’s brooding gaze scans the crowd of festive graduates. The moment he sees me, those dark eyes latch on and hold tight.
There’s no escape.
For a moment, I watch those around me. Former classmates, many of whom I don’t know, eagerly race out of graduation to celebrate their grand accomplishment with friends and family. They laugh. They hug. They call out to one another, confirming plans for tonight.
I’m happy for them and wish I could be like them.
“Ladies…” I grab each of their hands and pull us in for a group hug. “Promise you’ll tell me everything you get up to tonight.”
“I promise.” Kaye wipes away a tear.
“Promise you’ll call?” Barbi squeezes my hand. “I don’t want to lose touch.”
“I promise.” This might be the first lie I tell my best friends, but the truth is too difficult to bear. This part of my life is over. “We won’t.”
“I’ll keep you to that promise.” Barbi pulls me in for a hug ten times tighter than the one before.
Envy shoots through me, followed by frustration and defeat, but I tamp down the useless emotions and grit my teeth. Fixing a smile on my face, I angle toward the motorcade, gliding across the sidewalk like a princess going to a ball.
As if it’s my choice.
No one ignores the summons of Nicaragua’s Minister of the Interior, not even his only child.
Juan steps away from the car with a flourish and a smile as false as the one I plaster on my face. “Congratulations, Señorita Carmen.” He speaks in the melodious Spanish of home. “Your father asked me to express how exceptionally proud he is of your accomplishment.”
“Is he?” Chin level. Shoulders back. There’s a quiver in my jaw I refuse to acknowledge. “I take it he couldn’t spare a day for his daughter?”
