Forbidden (15 page)

A small smile curved the corners of her mouth. “Of course you realize you’ve given me the power to totally torment you?”

Cal smiled back at her. If this was torment, it was the sweetest he’d ever known. She probably didn’t realize that he would have waited for her for an eternity. A few minutes of teasing wouldn’t make a speck of difference when compared to that.

He lightly ran his hands up the taut muscles of her inner thighs, holding her gaze. Her smile faded, and the fire in her eyes burned white hot as he touched her.

Slowly, she lowered herself on top of him. Slowly, he pressed himself upward until he filled her completely. And still she gazed into his eyes, and he into hers.

It was beyond good, beyond great, well past incredible, and it left amazing in the dust. It was a new experience and deserved a brand-new word, one that hadn’t been thought of yet.

Cal felt himself smile, saw Kayla smile too. And he knew what it was he was feeling. There already
was
a word for it—and the word was a perfect one.

That word was love.

Kayla began to move slowly, excruciatingly, deliciously slowly. He matched her pace, pulling her down on top of him to kiss her—long, penetrating kisses that mimicked the movement of their bodies. He felt her melt in his arms, heard her soft moan of pleasure as he continued the steady rhythm she’d started.

He couldn’t help himself, and he picked up the pace. But she welcomed it, moving even faster, gripping him tightly with her legs. She kissed him one last time, then pushed herself up. She was magnificent—head thrown back, candlelight reflecting off her perspiration-slickened body.

Her breasts were peaked tightly with desire, and he reached for her, wanting to touch her, needing to touch her. She moaned and pressed herself more fully into his hand.

And then, like the first rumblings of an avalanche, he felt her shudder with the beginnings of her release. To his surprise and delight, she opened her eyes. Gazing directly at him, Kayla let go. And she swept him with her over the edge. He went with his eyes open too, burying himself in the sweetness of her body, and losing himself in the depths of her soul.

It was beyond good, beyond great, and well past incredible.

There was no doubt about it. It was love.

         
13
         

Kayla watched the flickering candlelight throw shadows around the room, listening to the slow and steady rhythm of Cal’s breathing.

Making love to Cal Bartlett had been among the most powerful experiences of her entire life.

He’d been so gentle, so kind, so
careful
with her. More so even than was necessary. Not that she’d particularly minded. In her narrow band of experience, she’d never had a lover who had, well…
loved
her so completely. With Cal, she had felt cherished. It was an experience she hoped she’d get a chance to repeat. Often.

He shifted slightly, pulling her closer, her back against his front, murmuring something unintelligibly sleepy that ended with a wonderfully contented-sounding sigh as he cupped her breast with one work-roughened hand.

For the first time in her entire life, Kayla was precisely where she wanted to be. Well, maybe she didn’t exactly want to be in San Salustiano, but she certainly wanted to be in this man’s bed, clasped in his powerful arms.

She was where she wanted to be, but what about Cal? Would she forever remind him of Liam, thus bringing him more sorrow than joy? If so, she wouldn’t be able to stay with him, no matter how much she wanted to. God, wouldn’t that be the ultimate screw-up of her life? She’d finally found the one man she couldn’t live without, only to find that the mere sight of her would forever bring him pain. The irony was outrageous.

But she was getting ahead of herself here. Before they could go their star-crossed, tragic, separate ways—if indeed that was what they were going to do—they first had to get safely out of San Salustiano.

She turned to face Cal, intending to wake him. She could see the glowing numbers of his watch on the bedside table. It was nearly four o’clock. They’d planned to arrive at the airport at five, on standby for seats on a filled six
A.M.
flight. It was time to get up and moving.

But Cal looked so peaceful in sleep, Kayla hesitated, watching him for a moment instead. His hair was tousled and his cheeks were dark and rough with the growth of his beard. He looked dangerously sexy, even with his flinty gray eyes closed.

Kayla had to moisten her suddenly dry lips as she remembered how he’d held her gaze as she’d exploded with passion, as he’d sent her spiraling over the edge. She also couldn’t forget the way he’d let her hold him as he’d cried.

She bent to wake him with a kiss, but paused, listening hard. She’d thought she’d heard…

Tap, tap, scratch, tap.

There it was again.

She sat up, her sudden movement waking Cal, who was instantly alert.

“What is it?” he whispered. The room was dim with only the light from that single candle. The radio was still on, softly hissing white noise. The station had long since gone off the air for the night.

“Someone’s on the balcony,” she breathed.

Tap, tap, scratch. It was a little louder this time.

Cal slid out from under the sheet, reaching for his jeans. Kayla did the same, pulling on her shorts and shirt, taking no time to search for her underwear.

Kayla flicked the light switch. Nothing. The power was still out.

“Do you have the key to your room?” Cal asked almost silently.

The key to her…? No. Wait, yes. It was in her purse. She quietly opened it and handed Cal the key to the room next door, questioning him with her eyes.

“I’m going to go through your room and try to get behind whoever’s at that door,” he said.

“You’re kidding!”

“I’ll be all right. You just be ready to run if they get that door open, okay?”

“No way am I going to retreat if you’re attacking from the rear,” she ordered fiercely. She pulled the lamp cord from the wall, holding the narrow part of the heavy ceramic base like a baseball bat. “Okay. Now I’m ready.”

“Kayla…”

“Go,” she whispered. “I’ll be right here.”

He hesitated. “Maybe we should both just clear out. We could just leave. Right now.”

“Maybe we should find out who the hell wants to break into your room at four o’clock in the morning—knowing that we’re in here, asleep.”

Tap. Tap, tap.

Cal turned to look at the curtained door.

“Go,” she said again.

He nodded. “All right, but you’re coming with me.”

Kayla couldn’t argue with that.

Together, they crept out into the hallway and Kayla watched as Cal quietly unlocked the door to her room. Soundlessly, he pushed it open and they moved stealthily inside.

Following Cal’s lead, Kayla stood behind him, hardly breathing, barely even blinking. When he was convinced there was no one waiting in the room for them, he moved toward the open sliding door and the balcony, and again she followed.

Kayla still clutched her lamp, but she felt far from prepared when she heard the soft murmur of voices on the balcony. Whoever they were, there were more than one of them. They were speaking in Spanish, but she couldn’t quite make out the words.

Cal must have heard them too, and decided that he didn’t like the odds. He motioned for her to back up, to head toward the other door.

And then the wind blew the curtain, and Kayla saw it. The dim moonlight glinted off an enormous and deadly looking automatic rifle one of the dark figures was holding at the ready in his arms.

His
arms?

The curtain had moved back into place, and Kayla closed her eyes, trying to remember exactly what she had just seen.

If that was a man, it was a very young man, hardly no more than a child…. Or a girl. It
was
a girl—the teenage girl they’d met the day before yesterday, in the mountains.

Why was she trying to get into Cal’s room? Obviously not to kill them. She’d had plenty of opportunity to do that up in the jungle, where their bodies would have disappeared without a trace. And obviously, she wasn’t attempting a robbery. The balcony door to Kayla’s room had been left open, with her clothes and her suitcase right there for the taking. Her things had been moved around, probably searched, but nothing taken. The girl and her friends had been in there, looking for something. Something or
someone
they no doubt hoped to find in Cal’s room.

Such as Cal and Kayla, perhaps?

Kayla had to believe that they were members of the rebel army. And despite her youth, the girl was clearly in a position of command. Kayla had suspected this girl knew more about Liam than she’d let on. Maybe she had some information. Maybe she knew what had happened to Liam from the time of his abduction to the time of his death. Maybe she knew the location of his body.

“There’s too many of them. I’ve counted at least four,” Cal breathed into her ear. “I need to get you out of here.”

“But I want to find out what they want.”

“They want more hostages.”

She shook her head. The rebels—or whoever they were—could have taken them hostage two nights ago.

“Kayla—”

She knew he wasn’t going to be happy with her for doing this, but she
had
to know. Before he could stop her, she stepped around him, through the curtain, and onto the balcony.

Cal was right behind her, but as three different muzzles of three different, very frightening-looking assault weapons were aimed directly at them, Kayla didn’t need to glance in his direction to know he was angry. He was angry, but she knew he would have followed her directly into hell if she’d led the way there.

She may very well have just led the way there.

The two men with guns, and the man still crouched by the sliding door, trying to jimmy it open, all started talking at once. Kayla could pick out words and phrases she didn’t quite like the sound of—talk of killing them now, talk of hidden agendas and identities pertaining to her and Cal’s ability to materialize on the balcony the way they did. One of them actually thought this proved they were spies working for the Special Forces Police.

“Silence,” the girl said brusquely and quite definitely. “Nobody’s killing anyone.”

Kayla saw that they’d found the listening device underneath the wicker table. It had been removed and crushed, like a cockroach. She took advantage of the sudden silence to point at it and whisper, “There’s another in my room, but we have a radio in here”—she pointed at the sliding door to Cal’s room—“so we can talk inside without being overheard.”

The girl gazed at her. “None of them are working. With the power out in the hotel, the transmitter is inoperable. We don’t need your radio on to talk.”

“Are you sure, because…”

“We are sure. We took out the power lines in order to talk to you without being detected.”

“I assume that’s why you’re here,” Kayla said hopefully. “To talk?”

“Got it.” The man forcing the lock triumphantly slid the door open.

The girl didn’t answer Kayla. Instead, she gestured with her head to one of the other men, and he went inside first, gun held at the ready. He stuck his head through the curtain a moment later. “All clear.”

At the girl’s obvious invitation with her weapon, Kayla went inside first. Cal was right behind her, and she risked a glance at him.

One of the men had a flashlight, and Cal’s gaze was following the beam of light as it traveled around the room. The light lingered on the rumpled sheets of the unmade bed, on the brightly colored condom wrapper, torn in half and lying on the floor, on Kayla’s lacy underwear and his T-shirt, lying where they had fallen. The room seemed to echo with the heat and passion of their recent intimacy.

The girl crossed toward the radio and turned it off. Then she reached down into the bedside table and removed the miniature microphone. She dropped it onto the tile floor and crushed it under the heel of her boot.

Cal looked down at Kayla. He was angry at the guns aimed in his direction, but he was right there beside her, one hundred percent.

“This is going to be okay,” she said to him, realizing that for all he knew, they were about to be executed. The conversation had been going on around him in a language he didn’t understand. “They just want to talk.” God, she hoped she was right about that.

“If you’re wrong—”

She reached for him. “If I’m wrong, I’ll never forgive myself.”

Cal held her tightly, speaking softly into her ear. “If you’re wrong, I just want you to know…there’s something I didn’t tell you last night—”

“Sorry to interrupt this tender moment, but we don’t have a lot of time.” The girl spoke in her perfect, nearly accentless English, sitting down on one of the chairs by the sliding door. One of the men stood guard by that door, another stood at the other door, looking out the peephole at the hotel corridor. The third man—the one who’d picked the lock—had opened the front panel of the TV set, and was dismantling the video camera that had been hidden inside.

“My name is Marisala,” the girl continued, looking from Cal to Kayla. “And you’ve already met Armando—you broke his nose, in fact, earlier this evening.”

The man crouched in front of the TV set gave Cal a baleful glance. His nose was, indeed, bandaged.

“Since he was unable to deliver my message, I decided to deliver it myself.” Marisala gazed at Kayla. “You are Mike, are you not?”

Kayla slipped out of Cal’s arms, moving closer to Marisala, her heart pounding. She had been right. This girl had come with information about Liam. “Liam was the only one who ever called me Mike,” she said. “You
did
know him, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Marisala admitted. “I met him when he first came to Puerto Norte, more than two years ago. I was just a kid then.”

She was just a kid now, but Kayla wasn’t about to tell her that, not while she was carrying that very grown-up gun.

“We were told that he wasn’t killed in the bus explosion,” Cal said, “but that he was kidnapped by the rebels and taken into the mountains.”

Marisala laughed. Her smile was sparkling, and it made her look like the beautiful teenage girl she was, softening even the harsh scar on her cheekbone. “Is that what they told you?” she asked. “That
we
took Liam?” Her smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. “They intercepted his fax to his newspaper,” she told them fiercely. “They didn’t like the story he wrote, didn’t like the dirt he’d managed to uncover—didn’t like his focus on the Special Forces Police and their arm-long list of human rights violations.
They
tried to kidnap him, tried to
kill
him. He came to me, badly injured—he knew I had friends who could hide him in the mountains.”