Cowboy Boots and Unadulterated Pleasures [Cowboy Boots 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (4 page)

“Tell me that’s not the suite in between ours and Kelly’s.”

Crue waggled his brows.

“Damn it!” Gabe screamed, slamming his fist against the computer monitor. “What the hell is Daniel thinking booking Colt in the room next to Kelly’s?”

“Truth?” Crue asked. “He wants Lorenzo dead. He knows Colt will never stand for Lorenzo raising a hand to his daughter.”

“You really believe that?” Gabe asked.

“You don’t?”

“Why should I? Daniel’s walls aren’t filled with Father-of-the-Year plaques.”

Gabe’s eyes darkened with the same pain Crue had seen in his own eyes soon after they started shadowing Kelly. He couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror anymore. He’d stood by and let a man strike a woman he cared for, perhaps even loved, all in the name of orders. Sometimes he wondered what the hell Daniel was thinking. And Donovan? If he saw Brock Donovan anytime in the next decade, he’d likely rip him to shreds.

“This hasn’t been easy on any of us,” Crue finally admitted.

Gabe pointed at the right screen. “You think you’ve had a hard time controlling me? Try controlling that. Your brother will plow through me
and
you seven times in the fit of anger, and twice more when he makes up his mind to kill the son of a bitch.”

Crue popped his jaw. Damn TMJ might get the best of him before this job was over. “I won’t stand in Colt’s way. If you ask me, Daniel has played roulette with his daughter’s life one too many times. And when I see him, I plan to tell him about it face-to-face.”

“What about Colt? Will you tell him the same?” Gabe asked.

Crue considered what he was asking of him. “Colt hasn’t played with her life. He never would. As for telling him what I think about the situation with Daniel? You’re damn straight. He needs to know.” He crossed his arms and stared at the monitors. “Daniel is aware of what’s been happening here. I can feel it in my gut. Colt needs to understand what Kelly has been up against.”

“Before you talk to him, think about how you plan to handle him after the fact,” Gabe said, always reasonable to a fault. “If Colt finds out what Kelly endured on our watch, Lorenzo won’t be the only one with a target on his back.”

“I’m not afraid of Colt,” Crue said.

“You should be,” Gabe told him. “Your big brother is a piece of work when it comes to protecting those he loves. And when it comes to Kelly? He’s deadly.”

Crue watched their surveillance equipment. He pondered how much Colt knew. He considered what might happen when Colt finally met up with Kelly.

More than anything else, Crue wondered why Kelly hadn’t tried to make contact with them when they were located only two doors down from her own. From his understanding, Daniel had told her several businessmen rented the room for meetings. They’d been there over ninety days and she’d never so much as called the room to see if their service was all right. She hadn’t sent anyone from player development. Questions hadn’t been asked when they’d phoned the front desk. Seemingly, their room simply didn’t exist.

Crue narrowed his eyes on Kelly as she flopped down on the couch and curled up in a ball. Either she was exhausted, scared, or sad. His money was on all of the above. While she didn’t know—or had pretended not to notice—he and Gabe were there, she’d known from the moment Colt had entered the casino.

Damndest thing he’d ever seen his life.

If he hadn’t been monitoring the security room, he wouldn’t have believed it. From the moment Colt and the others had walked in the casino lobby, she’d been on high alert, apparently wise to the phony names they’d given at registration.

Crue wondered if the two of them just had a sixth sense when it came to one another. “How is it that we can occupy one of her rooms for three months and she doesn’t seem to notice? Then, the second Colt is in the building, she’s locking down the elevator?”

“Beats me.” Gabe rose. He walked over to the sink and splashed some water on his face. After making a mess, he grabbed a hand towel and dried his face.

“There’s a bathroom down the hall if you need to freshen up,” Crue teased him.

“This sink is closer,” he said, looking between the glass shelving in an awkward attempt to check out his reflection. Rubbing his cheek, he said, “I need a shave.”

“I agree. You’d almost pass for George Clooney right now. You don’t want to draw any unnecessary attention to yourself.”

Gabe grinned. “Clooney, huh?”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

“There’s only one thing that will swell this head right now and your compliments ain’t it,” Gabe drawled, returning to his seat.

“I’m not talking about the head in your pants,” Crue said. “And you’d better stay out of that mix.”

“What mix?”

“The walls are about to come tumbling down,” Crue told him, pointing at the screens.

Colt had walked to the door several times, but he hadn’t left his room. Kelly had reached for the phone above her head, looked at the facing, and then hurled the small device across the room.

Gabe frowned. “What’s that about?”

“She’s kept the same number for years. Colt has her digits. And he hasn’t used them.”

Gabe shifted in his seat. “Then call up your brother and tell him to give her a buzz. There’s no reason for her to sit there alone when—”

“When what?”

“When she’s clearly distraught because she knows he’s in the next room!”

Crue shook his head. “I’m not going there.”

“Care to tell me why?”

“She’s due to get married. If I know Colt, he’ll stop the wedding, but he’ll do it in his own time, under his own terms.”

“Like hell,” Gabe said, grabbing the phone on the table. “Colt is like every other man on this team. Sometimes he needs a good swift kick in the ass to get him moving in the right direction.”

Gabe had just started poking numbers when the speakers resounded with Lorenzo’s voice. Gabe jerked to attention and set the phone next to the keyboard. Crue turned up the volume. “This should be interesting.”

“You don’t think he knows anything about Colt. Do you?”

“Look at his body language. He knows too much and that is a telling sign. If he has a clue of who Colt is, we need to find out why and how he is so well connected,” Crue said, shooting Gabe a sideways glance before fiddling with the computer settings. “I gotta bad feeling about Lorenzo Molinelli. And I’m starting to believe he knows Kelly’s every move before she makes it.”

“Funny,” Gabe said. “I’ve thought that very same thing.”

“Uh-huh. Then why didn’t you say anything before now?”

Gabe grinned. “I didn’t know for sure if I could trust ya.”

Crue laughed. They’d saved one another’s lives for nearly a decade. Their faith in one another was absolute. In fact, their entire team had been one of the strongest divisions in the Underground Unit because of the element of trust built between the operatives. They’d been through hell and back together.

“You know what bugs me most about this whole mission?” Crue asked. “How could a father let his daughter stay in bed with a monster if he suspects Lorenzo Molinelli is the head of a criminal organization with ties so strong he doesn’t leave a knot or kink for anyone to trace? What kind of man does that?”

“A man who is forced to look at the bigger picture,” Gabe suggested. “A man who does his job regardless of what it costs his family.”

“I might buy that if we were talking about a different man. Unfortunately, I’ve watched Daniel throw Kelly under the bus one too many times.”

Lorenzo bent down and nipped at her ear. “I missed you.”

Kelly cringed as his tongue tapped her lobe, hoping he would read enough and yet not too much into her reaction. Grabbing the quilt at the end of the sofa, she drew the blanket over her hips, snuggling underneath.

Lorenzo walked around the circular couch. As he approached her from the other side, his eyes darkened. He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of the material. The designer clothing fell to the floor. “Tired, darling?”

“I’m not feeling well, Lorenzo.” She tried not to breathe him in as she turned her head to avoid his kiss. A woman’s scent was all over him. His breath smelled like aged pussy, as if he’d lain between a woman’s legs and pleasured her for half the morning. Cheap perfume and the stench of even cheaper women and bad sex filled her nostrils, and while she hadn’t felt well prior to his entry, now she could vomit.

“Ah, do tell, love,” he rasped, lowering himself to her, grinding his half-erect cock against her hip.

With his body flush against hers, he curved his right arm above her head. Her stomach lurched. She covered her mouth as he stared down at her. From behind her hand, she said, “Please move. I’m about to throw up. I ate some bad chicken at lunch.”

Shifting quickly, Lorenzo moved out of her way. She hurried to the bathroom, slammed the door, turned on the spigot, and splashed water in her face. Concurrently, she filled a nearby tumbler with water then repeated the process three more times. After she turned off the water, she stood at the toilet with one tumbler in hand. She forced herself to gag by placing her finger down her throat. Then she dumped one glass of water in the toilet. She gagged again and again, each time pouring water into the toilet bowl and flushing.

Lorenzo knocked on the door. “Shall I call a doctor?”

Her act apparently convinced him.

“No!” she cried out, gagging again for show.

He jiggled the door handle. “Let me in. I’ll help you.”

“A minute, Lorenzo,” she said, using a nearby washcloth to wipe down the glasses and return them to the silver tray.

Grabbing a black eyeliner pencil, she dabbed a bit of makeup under both eyes and smoothed the color under her eyes, following the contour of the existing dark circles there anyway. As if transformed immediately, she looked sick, like a woman barely able to stand on her own.

Dampening the washcloth, she put the rag to her forehead and met him in the other room. Lorenzo looked as if he’d been punched in the gut.

“Come,” Lorenzo said, taking her by the hand. “I’ll put you in bed. You can rest. Then, after you have a short nap, we’ll have dinner with my associates.”

“Lorenzo, please. I can’t go anywhere tonight.”

Lorenzo narrowed his gaze. He tilted his head from side to side. After a moment, he said, “I think you’ll be much better in a matter of hours.” He dragged his thumb under the swell of her right eye. Staring down at the black mark on the pad of his thumb, his expression became one of stark amusement.

“Lorenzo, I can explain—”

“No,” he said, interrupting her. “I can explain.” He lowered his head to hers and whispered at her ear. “The man you think will save you arrived today. And for some reason, you don’t want to introduce your previous lover to your new lover, the man you’ll soon marry and take as your husband.”

She turned her head and gasped for a breath. While she went to extremes to fake an illness she did not have, she still considered herself quite unwell. The stench of another woman filled her senses and sickened her to the quick.

As if he understood her reasons for looking away, he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. Then, he lowered his lips and hovered an inch away from her mouth. Most likely he would’ve taken a kiss, but he wasn’t entirely convinced she hadn’t made herself sick. She saw the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

“I want you to look pretty tonight, sexy. After dinner, we’ll come back here and ask a few friends to join us. I want you to meet Marissa.”

Fury heated her to a degree hotter than the devil’s personal hell. She glared at Lorenzo’s lips as he began to describe the woman who had apparently occupied the better part of his morning, only she didn’t hear one despicable word falling from his lips.

What limited military training she had, she’d learned to use wisely. While in the US Navy, she’d stood watch for hours at a time and quickly learned how to pass the time so the hours weren’t entirely dreadful. She’d daydream, think of the more pleasant things in life, like time in Colt’s bed, the lover who’d taken her virginity, the man she’d romanticized in her mind more often than he’d held her in his arms.

Colt had been her saving grace more than once, and as Lorenzo described his morning activities in explicit detail, she thought of how she might have spent her morning, too, if only she had greeted Colt, Brand, and Kemper at their suite next door. If she hadn’t been part of her father’s grander plan, of an operation in progress, she would’ve spent her day in a much more enjoyable way.

With the sudden thought, she gasped. Lorenzo, apparently taken aback by any noise made at that particular time, gazed at her with satisfaction. “So that’s what bothers you the most, eh, love? You can’t stand to think of me, your fiancé, out traipsing through the other casinos with a gorgeous broad draped around my shoulders while I play at your competitors’ poker rooms.”

“It’s bothersome, yes,” she said, not about to address what disturbed her most.

He flattened his palm against the mattress. The heel of his hand bumped against her hip. As if touching her at that moment should’ve turned into a sexual conquest, he walked his fingers around the curve of her waist and flattened his hand against her stomach.

Thrusting his arm forward, he said, “I could break my own rules and make you fuck me right now. You know this and that knowledge is what absolutely terrifies you most. To know that I would stroke you with my cock after fucking another is quite possibly the most disgusting thing you can think of. Isn’t it, love?”

She’d tolerated a lot. She’d endured his abuse. She’d suffered the consequences of accepting one blow after the next when he’d raised his hand to her. She’d been this man’s pawn, her father’s keeper, and the Underground Unit’s dutiful soldier, but this was where she’d draw the line. She would not go to bed with a man who had been in another woman’s pussy just hours before. She would not.

Drawing upon her training and what she knew about Lorenzo, she calmly asked, “What’s your motive today, Lorenzo?”

He laughed. A bitter and wicked chuckle fell from his lips. He shook all over as if he thought the plan he had in motion would be far too humiliating for her to endure. Or perhaps worse. Maybe he had another agenda, another target—Colt.