Killer Secrets (14 page)

affiliations. Diego was related to the better part of his
generals. His generals were related to their

lieutenants and their lieutenants were related to the
soldiers. It was a circle that continued on and on.

There might be a few spies, a few speaking from both sides
of their mouths, but they all agreed.

Terrorism made it hard on the drug trade. Terrorist
fanatics made it even harder to sell drugs. Ergo, don't

let the French terrorist in on the business.

Some of the smaller cartels were too weak to fight the
pressure Sorrell brought to bear, but the larger

cartels opposing him were now doing what Ian had begun
eight months ago. Absorbing those smaller

operations with the promise of protection.

This wasn't a game, and there was a hell of a lot more to
it than drawing in information. If Kira aligned

herself with him, then for the first time in her own
career, she would no longer be giving the appearance of

a neutral party. She would be compromising herself. And
that begged the question, why?

For ten years she had worked as an undercover independent
operative for various agencies. First the

Federal Bureau of Investigation, and then the Department of
Homeland Security. Why risk herself and

her supposed neutrality now?

As Jason McClane's niece, and a stockholder in the various
companies and properties he owned around

the world, Kira was known as his "source." One of
the few people he relied upon when it came to

investing in certain businesses. He was well known for
working in the hot spots of the world, for turning a

profit out of humanitarian aid by building contacts. And
Kira was well known in those hot spots. It was

one of the ways she gathered her information on
insurgencies, the movers and shakers involved in those

conflicts, and where they might be going. And in certain
instances, disguised and dangerous, she was

known as the Chameleon. Able to blend into her surroundings
to gather information that had nothing to

do with McClane or his various businesses.

He'd seen her as a blonde, a redhead, and a brunette over
the years. She could use makeup like a

weapon, changing her features so drastically that the true
persona of Kira Porter wasn't even

recognizable. Unless you followed body movements rather
than faces, which few people did. The shift of

a hip, a particular gleam in the eye that had nothing to do
with color, the soft curve of an ear unique to

one woman, or perhaps just an underlying scent. Or maybe it
was just one woman's effect on a particular

man and his ability to recognize it. Because in each
instance he had become harder than iron and so

damned aroused he was nearly panting when he saw her. No
matter her persona.

Durango team, the unit he had fought with for the past five
years, had run several ops based on

information provided by the Chameleon. In each instance she
had been on the inside of the op and

present when it went down. And each time, Ian had
recognized her, though the team had never been

given her identity. Hell, he'd even taken her prisoner once
when the team had been sent in to rescue an

American diplomat being held in South America.

She poked her nose into places too damned dangerous for his
peace of mind, he was beginning to

realize.

"I'm certain my ceiling is perfectly
interesting," she said sarcastically. "I was attempting a discussion

here."

Ian looked down to where she rested on his chest. The
irritation in her gray eyes brought a smile to his

face. Damn, he should be running as fast as possible from
her.

"I don't need your help, Kira. You'd help me more by
leaving."

There was no doubt he was going to have to stay away from
her.

"I think you're well aware that's not going to
happen," she gritted out. "Do you think you're the only one

who has a stake in identifying and capturing that bastard?
Sorry, Ian, no-go. It's just as important to me."

Of course it was. One of Sorrell's militant groups had
claimed responsibility for the blast that killed her

family and Jason McClane's fiancée twenty years before.

"You can't let this get personal, Kira," he told
her somberly, aware of the irony behind his statement.

"And this is no place to try to fight what's between
us, as well as the job at hand. It risks both our lives."

"I don't believe that. What we have between us makes
success that much more important. It will make

working together easier."

"For you maybe." He brushed her hair back from
her face, wondering at the almost innocent quality in

her face. She had an air of purity, of life, that never
failed to amaze him. Or to challenge him. She had no

idea what she was asking for when she asked to share his
bed.

"For you as well." A frown tugged at her brow as
her gray eyes darkened.

Ian shook his head. "I'd be too concerned with
protecting you, watching out for you, than I would be on

the danger. I can't afford that distraction. I can't afford
the cost to my soul if you were killed here." He

was a chauvinist. He had never pretended to be otherwise.
When a woman was anywhere in the vicinity

working an op, a part of him was always looking out for
her. Women were strong, no doubt. Resourceful

and intelligent. But the primal male inside him still
insisted that they were to be protected.

"It's my risk to take," she informed him. There
was no anger in her tone, only strength, purpose. She was

a force to be reckoned with, his head knew that. She was an
experienced operative. But his heart, right

there below his head, clenched in fear at the danger she
could be in.

She was his to protect. The only way to protect her was to
get her out of the game.

"We're not going to agree on this, Kira," he
finally said. "Let's enjoy what we have of the night, because

you are not a part of this mission."

Before she could protest further he pulled her lips to his,
catching them in a kiss as soft as sunrise and as

hot as lava. That was what she was. Sunlight and heat, and
for just a few more hours, he needed that

heat. He needed Kira in ways even he didn't understand. And
that scared the hell out of him. She

softened a part of him that he had never believed would
soften. His determination to always remain

detached was like ashes in the wind with her.

But she came to him, like a pure fresh breeze pushing out
the stench of evil he lived with. Her lips moved

on his, heated silk, her hands flowing over him like pure
passion.

This time, he let her have her way. He lay back and watched
and let her touch and her passion flow into

him. Let himself enjoy the sheer rapture of her touch.

This wasn't the time to assert his own control. His own
dominance. He wanted her to carry away the

knowledge that he could be gentle, that he could touch her
with tenderness. Because once the sun rose,

he would once again be a product of the world he lived
within.

What was it about her? As her lips moved over his, her
tongue tempting him, teasing him, as he let his

hands coast over her back, that thought slid through his
brain.

What was it about Kira that made her touch so special? Her
sighs worth so much more than any others

he had ever caused? And it only made him ache more for the
screams of pleasure he knew he could

draw from her.

He didn't know why, and as her sharp little teeth nipped at
his lower lip, at that moment, he didn't care.

His hands bunched in her hair, rubbing the strands against
his palms as she kissed her way down his body

and his cock rose to full strength in welcome.

Hot lips moved over his chest. Her tongue licked and played
with the hard flat nipples there, the sigh of

her breath over them causing him to stretch beneath her in
pleasure.

Sharp nails scraped down his abdomen, sending pinpoints of
wicked sensation to attack his balls. And

he touched her. Caressed her back, her shoulders, cupped
her head in his hands and groaned in hunger

as her lips reached his abdomen.

Sex had always been one of his greatest pleasures. Sex with
Kira could become addictive though.

"I've been dying to taste you," she whispered as
she moved between his thighs, her hands wrapping

around the length of his shaft firmly, enclosing him in
soft heat as he felt his heart racing.

"It's all yours," he murmured, the sound of his
own voice surprising him. It was gravelly at the best of

times, but the roughness to it now went beyond that.

Emotion always made it deeper. He didn't want to look into
the emotions she raised inside him. He

couldn't do that, not yet.

But he could let the pleasure wash over him, and when her
damp, wicked mouth surrounded the head of

his dick he didn't have a choice.

"Damn. That's good, Kira. So good." It was like
liquid hot ecstasy. Her mouth surrounding his flesh, hot

and wet, without a condom, each sensation raking over
sensitive nerve endings and cording his muscles

with tension.

The sight of her consuming his cock was enough to blow his
mind, assuming he had any mind left after

that earlier orgasm.

Which he didn't. Because when her mouth tightened on the
head of his cock and her tongue flicked over

it, he latched his fingers in her hair and held her there.
Right there. Where her tongue flicked over the

sensitive under-crest and sent shards of sharp sensation
racing through his shaft straight to his tightened

balls.

"Your mouth should be licensed," he groaned.
"It's damned wicked."

The fingers of one hand stroked the shaft as the other
moved to the tight sac of his scrotum. There, her

nails scraped and played and had his teeth clenching at the
lust overwhelming him.

Ian let her have him. All of him. He pushed the danger to
the back of his mind, the operation and the evil

he faced on a daily basis, to relish her touch.

"So good," he whispered as she sucked at the head
of his cock, forcing him to tighten, to hold back. "I

love your mouth. Your touch."

A moan rippled over the tight flesh.

His lashes lifted to stare down his body at her.

Her face was flushed with passion, her eyes darkening,
swirls of gray and blue-gray color intermingling in

a storm that mesmerized him.

She pulled back, let him watch her tongue curl around one
side of the wide crest and watched a small

drop of precum form on the head of his cock. Kira smiled a
sultry smile, and when her tongue raked over

it, drawing the little drops inside her mouth, he ground
his head into the mattress to keep from releasing

then and there.

"Come here." His hands slid to her shoulders,
urging her to him. "Ride me. Let me feel that sweet, hot

little pussy taking me again. Just one more time."

He reached to the bedside table, fumbling for one of the
condoms that he had left there.

Kira took care of that quickly. Within seconds she had the
hard length of his erection sheathed and was

throwing one leg over his hips, coming down to him, letting
him watch.

Damn her. She moved slowly, letting him watch as the
engorged crest parted bare, slick folds and began

to disappear inside the hot depths of her pussy. An inch at
a time, rising and lowering to take more, until

with a groan, he was seated fully inside her.

He stared up at her, his hands moving to cup her breasts,
flick her nipples before they moved to her

back and drew her down. He wanted as much of her as he
could get. Every touch, every taste, every

sigh.

He watched her breath hitch as he fought just to breathe
himself, feeling the snug grip of her sex stroking