Authors: Lora Leigh
It wasn't his office. The villa was leased, the grounds
heavily patrolled, and the small island a haven from
the estate in Colombia that had seemed to grate on his
nerves worse by the day when he had been there.
Hell, he didn't need this.
He ran his hands over his face once again and restrained
another curse. Kira was a complication that he
knew he should have anticipated. He had known a year ago
that she could fuck his plans up royally.
Because he wanted her. He wanted her until the want burned
in his guts. Until the hunger for her
interfered with his ability to even take another woman.
He hadn't had a woman since meeting up with Kira in Atlanta
last year. Since he lay over her in the
monstrous bed in her condo, felt her body conform to his,
and her kiss burn into his soul.
He had been insane to kiss her at that point and he had
known it. If it had stayed at a kiss, maybe he
could have retained a measure of control. But now, he had
to touch, taste sumptuous flesh and push to
the edge before he pulled back in the gathering realization
of where it was going.
If he had taken her that night, he never could have never
walked away from her.
He shook the memory away at the sound of a brief knock, his
head lifting as Deke stepped back into the
office.
"I told you to get some rest, Deke," he sighed.
They had existed on catnaps for most of the week, working
to get the arms shipment in place on this tiny
island and make certain that parts of it headed to Colombia
in a timely fashion. The processing
warehouses for the cocaine the Fuentes cartel dealt in was
in too much danger from the forces looking to
take over the business.
He had to hold on, just a little bit longer, then he could
blow those fucking warehouses to hell and back
himself.
"I'm heading that way soon, boss." Deke stepped
into the room and closed the door behind him. "I was
checking a few things. I don't like it when people slip in
that we don't know about. These came in after I
made contact with some other informants."
Deke handed him the reports as well as several grainy color
photographs. He laid the report aside and
looked at the photos first.
Two known Sorrell agents had come in by way of New York.
Ian recognized the French nationals with
a little sneer of his lips. The other was the assassin they
had taken out in the warehouse the night before.
The assassin's dossier was thick, his kill rate nearly one
hundred percent.
"They paid good money for him," Ian murmured.
"Sorrell isn't going to be happy that he failed."
"We got lucky last night, boss," Deke said.
"I can't see the Missern brothers fucking up like that, even if
they are in bed with Sorrell. It's all about the profit to
them. I'm suspecting a leak in-house."
Ian suspected that as well. It wasn't the first time
Sorrell's men had been where they shouldn't have.
"Look into it." Ian flipped the pictures to the
desk and ran his hands over his face before leaning back in
the chair and staring back at Deke thoughtfully.
He waved at the bodyguard to take a seat, his eyes narrowed
as Deke stared back at him expectantly.
"Sorrell's gearing up," he murmured. "He
wants the cartel bad enough to try to take me out now. What
would his next move be?" He knew what he suspected,
but he needed confirmation of it.
"He'll keep trying. Odds are, he'll get lucky,"
Deke told him. "Until we find a way to neutralize it. We
need a position of strength, Ian. Something that will make
him crawl out from his hole."
"What about this rumor of a daughter that we keep
hearing about? Have you managed to learn anything
there?"
Deke shook his head. "Nothing substantial. Just that
she exists and Sorrell is searching for her. We know
he has a son, but only because he's slowly shifting some of
the smaller responsibilities to that son's
shoulders. He goes by the name Raven."
Ian rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. "Pull in a few of
our contacts in France and see if you can't learn
more. If we get to her first, we could use her."
His gut clenched at the thought of that. If Sorrell had a
missing daughter as they had heard for years, then
no doubt she was better off staying anonymous.
Unfortunately, if she did exist, he couldn't allow that
anonymity. He needed her too damned bad.
A second, a moment's thought went to the fact that he was
willing to use such an innocent before he
hardened his resolve. There was no time to worry about the
innocence of Sorrell's daughter. The game
he was playing here was too deadly, too imperative.
"There was a call that came in this morning as
well." Deke nodded to the report. "Joseph Fitzhugh and
his son. Some kind of English aristocrats that say they
know you. They wanted to meet and talk."
Ian grimaced at the names and shook his head. Fitzhugh and
his son had flown to Colombia when Ian
first left the SEALs and arrived at Diego's estate. He had
met the diplomat in the line of duty years
before, and Fitzhugh felt it was his place to try to
convince Ian of the error of his ways. He wasn't the
first, he wouldn't be the last.
He shook his head. "No meet."
"I assumed you would say that." Deke nodded
somberly. "Must be hard as hell, boss, having all these
so-called friends coming out of the woodwork. I haven't
seen Durango team yet though."
"You won't see Durango team," he said. "But
they're on the island. I can feel Macey's sniper scope like
you feel a mosquito biting into your flesh."
He'd been feeling it for more than a week now. That itch at
the back of his neck, the curl of anger in his
gut. For some reason, he had expected them to know better,
despite how well he had laid in the
evidence that he was indeed a traitor. It was contradictory
and illogical, but feeling that scope's bull's-eye
on his head was pissing him off.
Deke frowned at Ian's admission. "We can't afford to
have you taken out, Ian. Not at this stage of the
game. They have to be pulled back."
Ian shook his head.
"We continue on," he told him. "He hasn't
taken the shot yet, he's not going to. He's waiting. He knows
I'm aware of him. Let's see what plays out."
Deke breathed out roughly at the order. "I don't like
this. They shouldn't be here."
Ian shrugged. "Kira is the bigger worry," he told
the bodyguard. "She's unpredictable and she's trouble. I
don't want her involved in this, and I know her. She's here
because of me, not because of her uncle's
business."
Deke's eyes sharpened at that information. "Enemy or
friendly?"
Ian snorted. "What's her present mood? Your guess is
as good as mine. One thing is for damned sure,
it's not going to be anything you expect. Count on that and
wear a protective cup in the process. Because
that woman will end up busting all our balls if we give her
so much as half a chance."
Deke had no idea the trouble Kira Porter could cause. But
Ian did; he knew and he didn't like the
anticipation throbbing in his cock at the thought of it.
"So where do you go with her from here?" Deke
asked.
Ian shook his head. "I'll catch up with her tomorrow
night. Let her play for now. Let her think she's
safe."
His jaw clenched at the suspicious look Deke shot him. He
knew the other man wondered just how
deeply Ian was letting this life affect him. And Ian
admitted, it was damned deep. Sometimes, he didn't
recognize himself or what he had become.
"Your mother called again," Deke finally told
him. "You have several messages on your personal
machine."
Ian stilled. Marika Richards had no idea of the game her
son was playing, and the pain he knew she was
feeling cut at his soul.
She had nearly given up her life for him countless times
when he was a child, fighting to keep him away
from Carmelita Fuentes's murderous hands. Diego's now
deceased wife had hunted them like animals for
ten years, before Ian's stepfather, John Richards, had
found them.
For a moment, just a moment, he let himself remember his
mother's smile. No matter how frightened he
knew she had been, she had always found a way to smile at
him, to promise him that all things pass:
anger, pain, danger.
Be the best you can
be, Ian. Be strong and brave, and know you're being just. That's all that
matters. Know you're
being just
.
Those words whispered through his mind and sliced at his
heart. He knew she wouldn't see what he was
doing as just. She would never condone him killing the
father who had nearly destroyed both of them so
many years ago.
Sometimes, though, a man had to do what was necessary to
protect the just, the innocent. Too many
lives were held in the balance now. Sorrell and Diego
Fuentes both would have to die.
But first, he had to find Kira Porter and make damned
certain she left Aruba. How the hell was a man
supposed to destroy the monsters of the world when he knew
a delicate bit of satin and lace was going
to stand in his way? And she was there to stand in his way.
He knew it. He could feel it. And he would
be damned if he was going to allow it.
Three
HE WAS THERE. SHE KNEWhe was.
The moment Kira stepped out of the elevator of her hotel
that evening she knew Ian was waiting in her
room. Her breasts hardened, her nipples peaked against the
thin leather bustier covering them, and her
body came alive with instant, blazing heat.
It wasn't any particular premonition. She would have liked
to say she could just feel him. The truth was it
was the presence of the bodyguard leaning casually against
the wall several feet from her door that clued
her in.
Deke Santiago. Age thirty-six, married once, widower. A
dishonorably discharged Ranger.
Dishonorable because he had nearly killed his commanding
officer for screwing his then wife.
The court-martial had earned him a year in Leavenworth
because he couldn't prove the adultery. There,
he had met up with one of Diego Fuentes's lieutenants; four
years later he had flown into Colombia and
begun his life of apparent crime.
She paused as the elevator doors closed behind her, flicked
a long swath of black hair over her
shoulder, and sighed with an edge of irritation, aware of
the security cameras trained on her. She had an
appearance to maintain. That of bored socialite and thrill
seeker. Anyone searching for information would
check security cameras. She knew, because it was something
she did.
She moved along the hall, ignoring him. That's what she did
with bodyguards, she pretended to ignore
them. Her own, Daniel Calloway, was proof of that.
"I won't need you to check the room tonight,
Daniel," she informed him as they neared his connecting
room. "You can go on to bed."
"Are you sure, Ms. Porter?" His voice was colored
with suspicion as he held to his role and Deke's lips
quirked mockingly at the challenge in Daniel's voice.
"I'm positive. I'm certain the room is secure."
Daniel wasn't a stupid man, he knew Ian was there as well
as she did. He entered his own room and
closed the door behind him as Kira pulled her key card from
the lining on the inside of her sinfully
high-heeled boot.
She had hit the clubs early that evening, hoping to catch a
glimpse of Ian before he found her. It seemed
it had been a wasted effort. How long had he been waiting
in her room instead?
She was nervous. She hadn't been nervous over a man since
the last time she had seen Ian. Before that,