Authors: Lora Leigh
"Josef Missern called just before your arrival to
apologize for his brother's actions and to assure me that
he alone will deal with the transaction in the
morning."
Hell, he should have expected that.
"Fine." Ian shrugged. All the better. He would
get the weapons he needed and Sorrell's spies could
attest to the fact that Ian took his protection of Kira
very seriously.
"You say fine, as though threatening to kill Martin
Missern was of no importance?" He shot Ian a
contemptuous look. "They will be watching for you now.
They will put a bullet in the back of your head
without warning. You should strike first—"
"Whoa! Are you suggesting I send men in to kill the
Misserns because they might retaliate for my threats
against them?" Ian laughed. "God love your heart,
Diego. How have you managed to survive all these
years if you're constantly killing people off like diseased
animals?"
"Because what I kill
are
diseased
animals," he snapped back. "Deny this. I dare you."
His uncles hadn't been diseased. Diego's younger brothers,
their wives and children, had been murdered
with merciless speed the moment Diego learned they were
considering turning over evidence against the
Fuentes cartel to the American and Colombian authorities.
Ian kept his mouth shut. He didn't care about Diego's
excuses or the poor pitiful story the other man
would no doubt relate. He just wanted this meeting
finished.
He rubbed at the side of his nose before shoving his hands
into his slacks and retaining eye contact with
Diego.
"Is there a point to this?"
Diego sneered. "You are like a willful child."
"We established that my first month here. Should I
have asked if there was a
new
point to this?"
"Take care of the Misserns," Diego warned him.
"Do not give them the chance to strike out at you when
you are not looking."
Ian pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I'll consider
it."
Diego's eyes widened in surprise. "You will?"
"Of course." He shrugged. "When I meet with
Josef tomorrow if he hasn't followed my security
instructions to the letter than I'll blow his nasty little
head off just like I do anyone else who pisses me off.
Satisfied?"
Ian felt a warning itch just beneath his flesh. How much
blood had he shed in the past year? How many
animals had he already killed? Terrorist spies and cartel
enemies were a dime a dozen, there were so
many now.
Suddenly, his skin felt coated, oily with blood and guilt
and the slime that came from dealing with slugs.
And the head slug stood across from him, watching him as
though he were proud of him. As though he
had said something to be praised for. For God's sake.
Diego nodded slowly and seemed to release a sigh of relief.
"I worry." He swiped his hand through his
salt-and-pepper hair. "You are strong and they know
this. To kill you would be a great source of pride
for them. To succeed where Sorrell's agents have
failed."
"Stop worrying." Ian rubbed his hand over the
back of his neck to dispel the primal sense of foreboding
he could feel gathering inside him. "I'll take care of
the Misserns. And Kira."
Diego nodded. "Yes, you must take care of Miss Porter.
She is known for her reserve and refusal to
take a powerful lover. Many will look at you with awe for
succeeding in capturing her interest. You are a
son to be proud of." He nodded decisively.
Ian barely contained his disbelief. "For God's
sake," he muttered. "This is insane. She's a woman, not a
trophy."
"Ah, you defend her honor." He chuckled.
"Perhaps she will be around a while, yes? Maybe babies one
day?"
Ian blinked back at Diego. The old man was going senile.
He shook his head. "I'm going to bed."
Diego chuckled. "I do not doubt there will not be much
sleep for you this night. Try to rest a little, ah?
The Misserns, they are wily. You will need all your senses
in the morning."
"Sure. I'll take care of that," Ian said, shaking
his head.
Diego was still chuckling like a rabid clown as Ian left
the office and headed toward the stairs. Just in
time to watch the entry doors open and Daniel and Cristo
step inside. They were carrying Kira's luggage
and several carryalls. One rather large duffel bag. He was
betting he knew exactly what resided in that
duffel bag.
"I only brought her essentials." Daniel
Calloway's voice was cool, distant. "I'll take those up to her then
you can show me a room close enough to hers to make certain
she's not murdered in her sleep." His
hazel eyes clashed with Ian's.
Master Warrant Officer Daniel Calloway had been a SEAL
himself before his retirement from the navy
at age thirty-eight. He had immediately taken the position
with McClane as Kira's bodyguard.
He was still in peak fitness five years later, though there
was a dusting of gray at his temples. Ian bet
Kira had given him each one of those gray hairs.
"Cristo, bunk him in with you," Ian ordered.
"We'll go over the rules of this little game in the morning."
"Is his room close to hers?" Daniel appeared
unwilling to let that bone go.
Ian shot him a mocking smile. "It's close to my room
actually. And since that's where she'll be sleeping, I
think it will do."
Daniel's lips thinned in disapproval. "For now. That
will do."
Deke cleared his throat. "Let's go, man," he
urged Daniel. "The boss is still wearing his piece. I'd hate to
see him pull it."
They went, but not before Daniel shot him a quiet, warning
glare.
Ian pinched the bridge of his nose and strode quickly
through the foyer to the living room. There, he
headed straight to the wet bar and the bottle of Crown
Royal he kept for emergencies.
Slamming the glass to the bar, he filled it halfway,
brought it to his lips, and swallowed with a desperation
born of a hunger he couldn't explain, even to himself.
Ian snarled, held back the curse sizzling at his lips, and
stalked from the room. He knew, knew she was
going to be trouble. The moment he saw her, five years
before, he had known.
And by God, he was right.
Thirteen
IAN HIT THE STAIRS, TAKINGthe steps two at a time, and
passed his bodyguards without so much
as a word.
He entered the sitting area of his suite and closed the
doors with deliberate restraint.
He wanted Kira out of here. He wanted her safe. And now, it
was too fucking late for safe. Whether he
wanted her here or not, here she was, and he'd be damned if
he would fight to keep his hands off her.
Looking around the silent room, darkened and empty, his
gaze was drawn to the open balcony doors.
Ian moved to them and stepped out into the darkness that
filled the night.
Dark, but never alone. The hairs on the back of his neck
lifted in primal warning. Hell, he'd been a
SEAL long enough to know what it meant. He'd felt it for
more than a week now, known he was being
watched, and he knew who was watching him.
He let his gaze travel along the hills across from the
balcony, mockery twisting his expression.
Where are you, Macey?
He could feel Durango team's tech wizard watching him. One
of the few friends
Ian had ever allowed himself, a man who now considered Ian
a betrayer and the enemy.
He was out there, but so were the others. His former
commander, Reno Chavez. His lieutenant
commander, Clint McIntyre. The Cajun, Kell Krieger. He and
Ian had made lieutenant at the same time.
And Lieutenant Junior Grade Mason "Macey" March.
He couldn't keep a rank above junior for the life
of him. Macey had problems with authority figures and never
failed to lose rank by arguing with superior
officers other than his commanders. That and hacking their
computers.
They were all out there, and they were all watching him. He
could feel the bull's-eye painted on his chest
and at times he wished they would go ahead and take the
shot. He would never be the same after this
mission. Once trust was destroyed within a team, it wasn't
regained with an apology once the truth was
found out.
"Ian?" Kira spoke from the thickly padded chair
she sat in against the outside wall.
He had known she was there. He could feel her. Smell her.
Just as he could feel his former team
members watching from a distance.
At that thought, a frown pulled at his brow as he braced
his hands on the balcony railing.
"Who's your backup team, Kira?" he asked, his
voice so soft he knew it went no farther than her ears.
"Daniel." Her answer was quick, questioning.
The shadowed darkness of the land that rose around them
held his gaze. Friends that had faced death
with him countless times now watched him as the enemy. Was
that why the Chameleon was here as well?
He hadn't confirmed her suspicions that he was there to
take Sorrell or Diego down, but somehow she
had known.
He turned back to Kira, feeling the tension rise inside him
as she watched him silently. She sat, her legs
folded beneath her, his shirt wrapped around her as black,
silky hair flowed around her like a short cape.
He felt the anger burning in his gut, and the suspicion
rising in his mind. Pacing to her, he gripped her arm
and pulled her from the chair.
"No one watches you?" he asked as he jerked her
close to his chest, feeling her gasp then soften in his
arms as he laid his lips at her ear. "I feel them out
there, Kira. Who else did you take your suspicions to?
Did you pull the team out here with you?"
"No." She shook her head desperately, but
believing her didn't come as easy as her answer had.
"Don't lie to me." He backed her against the
wall, feeling the hunger inside him, the arousal and need that
clawed at his balls like a trapped animal.
Hunger and anger. Helplessness and rage. Once again he
couldn't protect someone he loved. She
refused to let him protect her. Refused to hide and let him
face the danger and he couldn't bear it.
"Ian." She arched against him. "Would I lie
to you?"
"In a fucking heartbeat if you thought you needed
to," he snarled, knowing it, feeling it. "I don't need you
to protect me."
He clasped her head in his hands, tilted it back and found
his gaze focused on her lips. Lips that had
been red and swollen in the limo, moist with the essence of
his cum and slack with the lust beating inside
her.
He dropped his hands to her shoulders and dragged the shirt
from her, dropping it to the floor of the
balcony.
"I wouldn't dare try to protect you." Her head
dropped back as his lips pressed to her neck and then
opened, his teeth raking, his tongue licking as he grew
intoxicated with the taste of her.
"You're a liar." He nipped her neck in
punishment. "Tell me what you've done, Kira. Don't make me
force it out of you. Don't betray me. Not like this."
He felt her still in his arms.
"Poor little sailor boy," she whispered
mockingly, her fingers working the buttons of his shirt slowly.
"God forbid that anyone should care what happens to
you. Should we take out an ad? To whom it may
concern? Ian Richards Fuentes is an island unto
himself?"
He jerked her hips forward, burying the hard ridge of his
shaft against the giving mound of soft flesh
between her thighs.
"Don't push me!" She was up to something, he knew
she was. She and that damned team he once fought