pdf - Eye of the Storm.PDF (11 page)

Almost immediately after Teresa's exit, a youthful waiter with a glass of something fruity and most likely alcoholic entered the cabana. "From the senor for the senorita." He bowed and began to place the drink before her.

One of the leering men had sent her something to drink? All the lectures from her dad and brothers about men drugging unsuspecting women's drinks came to mind. Did she look stupid? She shook her head and waved the drink away. "No, thank you. I don't accept drinks from men I don't know. My
novio
would be very upset." More like livid.

"Senorita, please." The young man pleaded, his tanned complexion almost pasty with fear. "The senor will be very angry. He will think I upset you."

Teresa entered with a salad and the soft drink and began to argue with the waiter in rapid Spanish, the dialect so heavy that Keely couldn't follow most of it. She got enough of the gist and had to stifle laughter. The very sweet Teresa was reaming the poor guy a new asshole. The girl described in detail the physical attributes of Ren, Vanko and Tweetie then told the young man he had more to worry about from the senorita's men than the senor.

The waiter, his face now beet red, bowed and left the cabana, taking the drink with him.

"Teresa,
gracias
. Maybe I should go back to my suite. I'm obviously attracting unwanted attention. Could you have my lunch boxed to go?"

In fact, Keely's neck had begun to itch like crazy. Something bad was about to happen. She didn't want innocents caught in the crossfire, plus her weapons were in the room.

"Yes, that might be good." Teresa frowned. "The senor Tonio mentioned is a very bad man. He takes what he wants.
?Entienda?
"

"Yes, I understand." She massaged her temples. All of a sudden she was tired. "I just wanted to have a normal lunch like a normal tourist."

"You are not normal." Teresa waved a hand toward Keely's head. "Your hair, it is an attraction. Your body, also—it spoke to the men as you walked into the restaurant." She shook her head. "You must not walk around the resort without one of your men, senorita."

"I agree."

Teresa turned to leave. "I will hurry the meal and pack it for you to take."

"
Gracias.
I still want to shop with you—later when Vanko can take us."

"Good. I will enjoy that." The drapes parted and Teresa left.

Closing her eyes, Keely lay her head against the high-backed chair. Unwanted tears filled her eyes. Damn, why couldn't she have a boring, simple life? She'd always had to watch out for predatory males. She'd been fairly safe in Cambridge at MIT, or had been until the crap with the DoD turncoat and the NSA had begun. But everywhere else, she'd had to make sure she dressed down, covering her feminine assets.

Men were pigs, as Teresa said. Well, all men except for her brothers and maybe Ren and Vanko. She snorted—no, they were pigs, too, just not to her.

"Senorita?" A low, raspy male voice spoke. Every nerve in her body went on alert.

Her brain screamed danger. The dangerous male was close—too close. How had a man sneaked into her space without her knowing? She must be more tired than she realized.

Keely opened her eyes. Damn, there were two of them! Large thugs with guns holstered—looked like Beretta submachine pistols—but showing under their lightweight jackets. They stood in front of her table and between her and the exit. Their heavily muscled bodies touched the table's edge. She'd bet the taller one had enough reach to grab her across the table. She slowly nudged her chair back.

While the expressions on their faces would suit a statue, their eyes glittered with menace—and lust. They were highly aroused as the tents in the front of both their light wool dress pants showed.
Well, this was just frick-fracking great.

As their libidinous glances took in her face, hair and cleavage, she slid the steak knife from the table with her left hand and then transferred it to her right under the cover of the tablecloth. She held the weapon against her right thigh in the folds of her full skirt.

The knife was not a perfect throwing knife, but it would do. She might be able to take one man out and get past the other into the open where someone might come to her defense.

"Senor Trujo would like the pleasure of your company for lunch. He was not happy you rejected his drink." The taller of the two men spoke. Both thugs frowned as if she had insulted them personally.

"Senor Trujo?" A sudden chill swept over her body and it took all of her control not to shudder. Did the
narcotraficante
boss know she was associated with Ren and the others? How could he? She'd never met the Argentinian drug lord and had only been

"associated" with Ren and SSI for a few days. Even if the DoD traitor had mentioned her to the pissant drug lord, Trujo still should not have connected her to SSI.

Fate had a horrible sense of humor—and even worse timing.

"I do not know Senor Trujo. I do not accept drinks or lunch from men I don't know.

My
novio
would frown on it. Beyond that, it is just a stupid thing to do."

The shorter thug looked to her left hand which lay on the table. "I see no ring."

Damn, she really needed to buy a ring—and would just as soon as she got away from these two Neanderthals.

"We just got engaged. Last night. He's buying a ring now. He is meeting me for lunch to celebrate."
Way to think on your feet, Keely.

The two men looked behind them as if they expected to see her fiancé approaching.

"He can come find you. Senor Trujo's table is the best in the house. We will see your
novio
when he arrives. Come," the smaller man held out his hand, "Senor Trujo does not like to be kept waiting."

"I'm leaving. Going back to my room. Please get out of my way." She placed her left hand at the edge of the table and pushed her chair further away using her feet. Then she stood, keeping the knife in her right hand hidden in her skirt.

"We cannot allow you to do that, senorita." The taller of the two men reached for his gun.

Keely brought her right hand up and threw the steak knife. It hit the man reaching for his weapon in the upper arm. As he bellowed his rage and grabbed at the knife to pull it out, she shoved the table at the other man. The edge hit him in his groin, a direct hit on the obscene bulge in his pants. She muttered, "Pervert."

The man she'd knifed came around the table, reaching for her. He grabbed her arm in a bruising grip. She used his forward momentum to throw him over her hip. He landed on his head at the back of the tented cabana. He hit so hard the supports shook wildly.

Keely ran for the opening. The shorter man attempted to grab her with one hand while he held onto his aching manhood with the other. He was livid with rage and swearing in Spanish; he'd gladly hurt her if he could catch her. She twisted and avoided his grasp then kicked out at his knee, sending him to the ground.

Keeping her gaze on the downed men, she blindly pushed through the draperies and ran into a large male body. Instinctively, she thrust her hand up toward the face, hoping to break this new attacker's nose.

"No, none of that, you little spitfire. I'm the good guy here." Ren's growling voice soothed her instantly as his arms surrounded her in a tight embrace.

"Ren?" She trembled in his arms, her face turned into his chest.

"Yes, baby. It's Ren." He held her with one arm around her waist as he soothed her back with his other hand. "Who are these fucking assholes?" He sounded mean—no, he sounded deadly. Her trembling lessened. She was safe. He wouldn't let anyone hurt her.

She looked up at him. His eyes burned with the need for retribution, but she knew he'd want her out of the danger zone and out of the public eye before he did anything. She stroked a shaky hand along his tight jaw. He was containing his rage as the wild pulsating muscle in his jaw attested, but she sensed it wouldn't take much for him to let loose his wrath.

"Come closer," she spoke softly. He leaned down until his ear was against her lips.

His narrowed gaze never left the two men who, she sensed, now stood, breathing heavily behind her.

"What?" His breath whispered over her ear.

She clued him in on the situation in a low tone. "They are Trujo's men. The creep sent over a drink. I refused it. They came over. Tall guy announced Trujo wanted me to have lunch with him. He can't know who I am, can he?"

His gaze switched to her, gentling as he scanned her face. "No." He paused, thought some more, then swore viciously under his breath. "No—how could he?" His head jerked up and turned toward the main pool dining area. She knew he looked for his enemy.

"That's what I thought." She rested her head on his chest. His heart pounded loudly.

Inhaling, she luxuriated in his scent; it calmed her just as it had for the last three days.

She nuzzled the opening of his shirt at his throat, then touched the tip of her tongue to his sweaty skin. Spicy and lemony all at once. She liked it. His taste, like his smell, steadied her.

His hand moved from her waist to press her face into his chest, his fingers threaded through her curls. It was a blatant act of possession. He spoke to the two thugs over her head. "Who dared approach my woman?"

The way he said "my woman" should have struck every stubborn, independent nerve in her as wrong, but instead it thrilled her. He'd claimed her, even if it was just for show and her protection.

And, God knew, she felt safe, even with two dangerous, armed thugs behind her.

"What's going on, Ren?" Vanko's voice was a welcome addition to the tableaux.

Now there were two against two.

"Keely? Did those bastards touch you?" Her beloved brother's voice added to the mix.

Teresa must have called the suite when she saw the danger. Bless her heart.

Keely turned within the circle of Ren's embrace, her back against his chest, her butt against his groin. They fit perfectly. She shook off the incongruous thought, time enough for that later, now she had to concentrate on the current tense situation.

The man at whom she'd thrown the knife glared at her, but his anger was icy and under control. This was a man who could wait for revenge. Cold vengeance was the worst kind; you never knew when the avenger would turn up. She shivered.

Ren rubbed her arm, his chin resting on the top of her head. "Keely, you okay?" He placed a small kiss just below her ear. Goose bumps raised on her arms.

"Now I am. Just a little chilled."

"Vanko, give me your jacket." Ren took the proffered jacket and placed it around her shoulders, then pulled her back against him.

The bleeding thug's frigid gaze was fixed only on her. His complete disregard for the three men ranged around her confirmed he was the more dangerous of the two and that she had made a bitter enemy. "This is the
novio
you told us about?"

Despite the added warmth of Vanko's jacket and the security of Ren's arms, she shuddered at the evil look the taller man shot her. "Yes." Her voice was soft, hesitant, then she coughed and said more firmly, "Yes. This is my
novio
." She refused to show fear to this man. He'd jump on it, use it against her.

Ren's arm tightened and he brushed a kiss on the top of her curls. "Easy. I've got your back."

"I will tell Senor Trujo. We are sorry for frightening you,
poco gata
. We will leave now." He gestured to his companion, who rubbed his sore groin and shot a dagger-like glance at her.

The asshole had called her "little cat" which in colloquial Spanish equated to "little bitch"—as in prostitute. Ren stiffened, then cursed at the insult to her, showing he knew his gutter Spanish as well as she did. His anger was obvious in the viciousness of his swear words.

"I don't think so." Ren's voice halted the two men's departure. "I want to meet your boss, personally. Take me to him now. His invitation and your threatening actions and verbal insult to my fiancée are inexcusable."

"No!" She wiggled and turned within his arms, her hands flat on his chest. His heart thudded under her touch. She could almost smell the adrenaline changing his scent. His body was gearing up for a fight. "I'm … fine. I … am … fine. Let it go, please? For me?"

She added in a low tone. "For now."

He bristled. A muscle in his jaw twitched. A low rumble sounded in his chest, akin to a large predatory cat's angry growl. She stroked his pecs, attempting to soothe him, pressing small kisses over his shirt. He obviously wanted to meet with Trujo, taking only Vanko and Tweeter along. She had to convince him of what a bad idea that would be—

she had intel they needed to see before any meeting took place. They'd be outnumbered, outgunned. Trujo's estate was an armed camp. She couldn't let them go without proper planning—and more backup.

"Keely. Baby." Ren's voice pleaded. He took one of her hands and brought it to his lips to kiss. He stopped then frowned as he fingered a new red mark on her arm where the tall goon had grabbed her. He swore again, casting a fulminating glance at the man closely observing them. Then he looked back to her, his eyes narrowed, smoky grey-blue in their anger. "You fucking had to defend yourself. So hell yeah, I want a meet with the fucker. The other stuff is just side bennies."

The fact he wanted to meet Trujo more on her behalf than on his own terrified her even worse. Still, all her reasons to delay the meet were valid. "I was scared. I overreacted. Please?" She buried her face in his chest, tears wetting his silk shirt. "Please."

She stroked him with her free hand.

"Keely … sweetheart … it's okay. God, stop crying." Ren swung her into his arms, then addressed Trujo's men over her head. "Don't ever let me see either of you even look at my woman again. I won't be so forgiving next time."

Keely peered through water-logged lashes. The taller man nodded, then pulled the other man with him. Vanko closed the draperies, shutting out interested onlookers.

Tweeter stood next to them, a concerned glance on her.

"Keely, stop crying. You're killing me here." Ren rubbed his cheek against her hair.