Yours in Black Lace (19 page)

Emelio rapped his knuckles against the wood. A startled, electric silence greeted the sound. He knocked again, louder. Finally Braga replied, “Carlos, you imbecile, get in here.”

He raised one arm behind his head then turned the knob just enough to open the door. Behind him, he heard Jason whisper, “What the hell are you doing?”

Emelio ignored him, except to give a gesture ordering the team to stay back for now. He nudged the door wider with his foot and stepped into the room, raising his other arm and lacing the fingers together. His eyes scanned the thirty-by-thirty-foot meeting space, assessing the situation.

His gaze settled on Stephanie. She was on her knees in the center of the room, head bowed over her hands. Even at a distance, he could see that her pale cheeks were wet with tears, her features set in a forlorn expression.

An almost uncontrollable rage choked him, burning away all other emotion. It infuriated him to see her subjugated this way, bereft of her usual vitality and sass. His fingers itched to reach for his gun. Damned if he would let Braga have the satisfaction of breaking her spirit.

“Sanchez!”

At the startled exclamation, Emelio turned his attention to his nemesis. Braga’s face registered shock and recognition before yielding to anger. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he realized he’d been caught in his own trap.

Braga brought the Glock 29 up and pointed it at Stevie’s head. His resonant voice oozed frigid sarcasm. “You must be one hell of a fast driver, Sanchez. You’ve arrived just in time to watch her die.”

Emelio’s heart stopped, trapping his breath in his throat. He risked breaking eye contact long enough to glance at Stevie. She looked scared, but in her eyes he saw hope, and then she had the audacity to wink at him.

It threw him off for a second but he refocused. He took several steps farther into the room, talking fast to keep Braga from pulling the trigger. “Don’t do it. There’s only one way out of this room and the hallway is filled with cops. It’s over.”

Braga’s eyes darted toward the door, but his aim never wavered. His gun was still trained on Stevie.

“It’s over. Carlos and Felipe are under arrest. We have Weston’s death on audiotape and Stevie is an eyewitness.” He walked closer still, moving to his left to hold Braga’s attention. “We’ve got you for jury tampering, conspiracy, kidnapping and murder. No way are you going to skate on the charges this time.”

Braga stared him down. “In that case, I have nothing more to lose. I may go to jail but I will have my revenge.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Emelio saw Stevie reach under her dress and draw out a pistol.
Dios mio,
what a woman. She was constantly surprising him. He struggled not to betray her with his reaction.

“Let Stevie go. She has nothing to do with this. Let her go and take me in her place.”

Braga’s laugh was devoid of humor. “She has everything to do with this. You are lovers. You care for her. I want you to have to watch as she dies, just as I had to watch Carolína.”

“Lina never would have been in that warehouse if you hadn’t involved her in your criminal activity. You gave her that travel business, with everything in her name, so that she would take the fall if anything went wrong.”

“No! I protected her. Nothing would have happened to her if you had not interfered. It was you who made her betray her family. You are responsible for her death!”

Emelio flinched under the weight of the accusation. “God knows, I never meant for her to get hurt. I didn’t directly involve her in the investigation until the very end.”

Braga scoffed contemptuously. “She was part of it long before you knew. You thought you were so smart, Sanchez. But I was one step ahead of you all the time.”

“What are you talking about?”

“My cousin came to me. She confessed.” Braga’s smile was terrible to see. “Any information she gave you after that was only what I wanted you to know.”

Emelio’s voice was a hoarse whisper. “I don’t believe it.”

“Face it, Sanchez. A young woman’s lust may have been easy for you to manipulate, but her guilt was even easier. She owed me her loyalty and she paid for her betrayal.”

He stared at Braga, unnerved, as the truth hit him full force. “Overtown was an ambush. You cold-blooded son of a bitch. You didn’t just trap Lina in the middle of your deal. You set her up for execution.”

A kind of madness gleamed in Braga’s eyes, his expression one of barely leashed fury. “She was pure until she began a relationship with you! You took a sweet young girl and corrupted her for your own pleasure. Once you had her, she was forever tainted. She was never the same!”

Emelio’s mouth twisted into a sad smile as the weight of failure lifted from his shoulders. He’d thought that Lina offered to help him out of love, but she had only been working for her cousin. Perhaps he’d broken the rules and lost sight of his responsibility. Maybe Braga had used and manipulated her. But, in the end, the truth was that Lina made her own choices.

For the past two years he’d been seeking forgiveness, trying to regain his lost honor. He realized now that the only person he needed to forgive him was himself.

“Lina knew what she was doing.”

“She did not! Carolína was my angel, she was everything good and pure. You ruined her!”

Emelio noticed Stevie shift her position on the floor and glanced over at her. She lifted her hand just enough for him to see the Walther, then nodded once. Whatever happened next, she was ready. He had to be, also.

He bent his right elbow toward the Ruger, then made certain Braga’s anger and attention stayed focused on him. “You were jealous, is that it? You planned to have her to yourself. But then she chose me. You lied to and controlled and exploited Lina because she slept with me.”

“
Cálle te!
Shut your mouth.”

“She gave herself to me, not to you. That’s it, isn’t it? You wanted her in your bed and she refused you.”

Braga’s face turned purple with rage as he swung the Glock 29 in his direction. “May you rot in hell, Sanchez.”

But now it was Emelio in danger, Emelio who needed to be saved. This time she wasn’t going to cower or crawl. This time she’d stand up to her abuser—it was the only way to truly be free. And, in doing so, she could regain the control she’d finally achieved over her life. She couldn’t go down without a fight, not when she had the power to save the man she loved.

The Walther weighed more heavily on her mind than in her hand. She’d never be able to callously murder someone, not after seeing Weston meet such a violent end. But she could sure as hell pop a cap into Braga’s left shoulder.

Stevie levered up on her knees and brought her pistol up, flexing her thighs for balance. She pulled the bolt back in order to load the first round. The harsh metallic click of the bullet sliding into the chamber echoed loudly in the empty room.

At the sound, Braga swung his head in her direction, stunned disbelief evident on his face. Bracing her wrist, Stevie narrowed her eyes and sighted down the barrel. Looking right into Braga’s cold black eyes, she squeezed the trigger.

Emelio arced his right arm over his shoulder, a gun appearing suddenly in his hand. He fired at the same time she did, the double blast deafening in the small room. Braga cried out, dropping his gun and falling backward under the impact of the two bullets striking his upper body.

“Shots fired! Move! Move! Who’s hit?” The Double O Team rushed through the door, quickly filling the meeting room with more guns and a lot of testosterone.

Emelio kicked Braga’s gun out of reach then he offered his hand, pulling Stevie to her feet. She continued to stare at Braga as he writhed on the floor, bleeding and in pain. She tossed her own gun aside, sickened by what she’d had to do.

As the Double O Team waited for an ambulance to take Braga away, Stevie squeezed Emelio’s hand and turned to look at him. Her gaze drank in the sight of his devastatingly handsome face. His golden skin was still pale and stretched tightly over his regal cheekbones. Everything he felt for her showed in the depths of his hazel eyes.

God, how she loved him. She loved him for his sensitivity and his dedication to his job, his loyalty and even his protectiveness. She loved his ever-present sex appeal and his creative spirit. Through the power of love, she had survived and she had triumphed. She had a future in which she’d never be a victim again, a future she hoped to share with the man who’d made it possible.

The aftermath of an adrenaline high slammed into her like a freight train. First came relief and then a weariness like she’d never known before. Then came the tears. Stevie gladly collapsed into the safety of Emelio’s embrace, sobbing as he rocked her in his strong arms.

“Tranquila, mi querida. Tranquila.”
She felt his lips brush her temples as he whispered into her hair. The words were in Spanish, but she understood the soothing comfort. A few moments later, Stevie stepped back and wiped her eyes, while Alex grinned at her and Jason made kissy noises.

Warm color flooded her cheeks. “Shut up, you guys.”

Emelio offered her one of his rare smiles. “Get used to it, Stephanie. They’ll have to.”

“What? This from the guy who was worried about how it would look back at the office?”

“It’ll look like this.”

He gathered her back into his arms and captured her lips in a kiss that set her hair on fire. It was hot and sweet and full of promise. Stevie wound her arms behind his neck, pulling him closer as desire sang through her blood.

The sound of applause had her stepping back, flustered. “Wow. That was Bond worthy.”

“You earned it, Jayne.”

“That reminds me. Nice trick with the gun behind your back.” Stevie cocked her head to one side. “Maybe next time, though, you could put it somewhere more convenient so I don’t have to save your ass.”

Emelio crossed his arms over his chest, one eyebrow arched in amused protest. “What are you talking about? You couldn’t have saved me—I got off the first shot.”

She scoffed. “You’re dreaming. I shot first.”

“No way, lady. You were still practicing your regulation combat stance when I took Braga out.”

“Oh, please. I had him—”

“Yes, you did, Stephanie.” Emelio’s gaze echoed the soft, enchanting tone of his voice. “I’m so damn proud of you.”

Her heart swelled, choking her with emotion. Tears shimmered in her eyes, threatening to set off another torrent of sobs. Her fingers trembled in his grasp and her voice broke. “You have no idea what it means to hear you say that. I’ve waited my whole life to hear someone say those words.”

“I only say it because it’s true. You’re an incredible woman, Stephanie. Strong, intelligent, passionate.” He reached out to cup her face in his palm. “All joking aside, you did save my life. In more ways than one.”

Stevie returned his quiet smile. “We saved each other.”

Braga smiled menacingly and then his features melted into Tom’s. She screamed, but the sound was muffled as she shot the men who’d threatened her.

“It’s over, Stephanie.”

She must have dozed off because she startled when Emelio gently shook her arm. She dragged in a shuddering breath and sat up. He crouched down beside the chair and wiped the dampness from her cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“It’s all right now. You’re safe.”

Her throat felt tight with the residue of the horrific images in her mind. “I was dreaming.”

Emelio soothed her, his voice calm and understanding. “I know,
querida.
And I won’t lie to you—there will be other dreams. But in time, it won’t be as bad.”

For the rest of her days, Stevie knew she would remember what it was like to point a gun at another living soul and pull the trigger because she had no choice. She only hoped he was right about the healing power of time. She swiped the last tears away and offered Emelio a smile of thanks.

He looked as tired as she felt. The shadows in his expression reminded her that he’d been awake and under stress for almost two days. However, the gleam in his eyes suggested that his voice was rough with something other than weariness.

“Why don’t we leave the debriefings and the paperwork until tomorrow—Alex and Solis can handle things. I’ll take you up to your room.”

She pushed back from the desk and took his hand. Arousal warmed her skin and sped desire through her veins, making her forget her fatigue. “Is this the part of the movie where we indulge in life-affirming sex after narrowly escaping death and triumphing over the bad guys?”

“Yes, I believe it is.”

His mouth curved into a sensual smile. He stroked his thumb across her knuckles, sending a shiver of awareness along her nerves. The breath hitched in her throat as a reckless yearning coiled inside her. In that instant, she wanted nothing more than to be naked in his arms. She wanted to hold him close and make love until she forgot everything that happened tonight.

“Did you have anything particular in mind, chér?”

“Black-lace letter number nine.”

He lifted their joined hands to press a kiss onto her wrist. Then he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of one of the guest chairs and led her from the room. Upstairs in her suite, a single lamp cast a golden glow over the green-and-white walls. A cool breeze from the open balcony doors filled the room with the fragrant scent of jasmine.

Emelio gathered her into his arms, holding her tightly in his embrace. She could feel his heart beating in time with her own, confirming that they were still alive, making her more aware of what they’d almost lost.

He must have sensed her melancholy because he angled his face to kiss her forehead, her temples and cheeks, before brushing his lips over her mouth. She wrapped her arms more tightly about his waist and parted her lips for his tongue.

She opened to him, to the tenderness of his slow, healing kiss. Heat, warm and penetrating, increased the need arcing between them until the kiss became eager and urgent. Pausing to catch her breath, Stevie tipped her head back and looked into his amber-green eyes.

There she saw desire in their smoldering depths and so much more. So much more. She lifted her hand to caress the side of his face. Something primitive and humbling and powerful connected them. She felt it as surely as his pulse beneath her fingertips. Then she sensed a change in his attitude and saw the gleam of amusement in his gaze.

“Now that we’re finally alone, Lacy Sweetbottom, I—”

Stevie burst into surprised laughter.

“What? That’s a great name for a Bond girl.” He pretended to ignore her interruption. “As I was saying, Lacy, I think it’s safe now. You can reveal the contents of the secret document I’ve been carrying.”

Stevie cocked her head to one side, as though considering it. “I don’t know. This information is ultra top secret. I’m not certain you have the right security clearance.”

Sliding one hand along the curve of her backside, he cupped her sweet bottom and held her against his burgeoning erection. “Are you sure this isn’t all I need, 007?”

“It’s definitely what I need.” Stevie wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, feeling some of her old sass return. “Do you know what the Double O prefix means?”

“No. Why don’t you tell me.”

“In my case it means I have a license to thrill, darling.” She rubbed the hardened peaks of her breasts across his chest. A wonderful pressure tingled in her belly and she shivered in anticipation.

With a wicked grin, he pulled the small envelope from the breast pocket before tossing his jacket onto the wing chair.

When he handed the note to her, she shied away, confused.

“You’re supposed to read it out loud, remember?”

Her heart gave a little leap as a delicious ache settled between her thighs. Only a few days ago, the idea of revealing her fantasy this way had embarrassed her. Now, though, she knew without a doubt how safe she was with him and reveled in the seductive delight of his challenge.

Stevie took the envelope and slit it open with her thumb. Emilio perched on the arm of the sofa and waited, the eager light in his hooded eyes adding to the sensual beauty of his face. She unfolded the pearl-gray note card, pitching her voice low and sultry as she began to read.

“In my fantasy, you come to me in darkness, wearing only moonlight and a smile. No words need to be spoken, because you already know my every desire. Each beat of my heart whispers your name as your hands fulfill the secret longings of my body. I want to lose myself in you, to forget everything except the exquisite pleasure of your touch. Come to me, and I’ll be yours, in black lace.”