Midnight Rescue: A Killer Instincts Novel (7 page)

“Yep,” Ethan confirmed.

“Another safe house?”

Kane spared her a glance as he hopped out of the Jeep. “Actually, we live here.”

Her mouth twisted in a sardonic smile. “Do you boys have slumber parties every night?”

“Funny. Morgan didn’t tell us you were a comedian.” Without a backward look, he strode toward the house, his faded jeans and navy blue T-shirt clinging to his lean frame. D marched after him, shaved head gleaming in the afternoon sun.

“Don’t mind him,” Ethan said. “Cute and cuddly isn’t in Kane’s nature.”

“No, I don’t suppose it is.” She decided to take advantage of Kane’s being out of sight and said, “How long have you worked for Morgan?”

“About two years.” He smiled endearingly. “I’m the rookie.” He swiftly changed the subject. “Can you walk?”

She took a tentative step forward and swallowed when her body ached in protest. “Probably not.”

Infinitely gentle, he wrapped one muscular arm around her shoulder and helped her across the dusty earth toward the house, while Luke stayed behind to unload the Jeep. Ethan half carried her up the front steps,
and she winced as her shirt brushed against the welts on her back. Her head was starting to clear, though. She didn’t feel as light-headed as before, and that showed improvement. Now all she needed was for her ribs to stop feeling as if they’d been scraped raw. A few days of rest would help speed the healing process along, and then she could make plans to get back to Colombia to finish her mission. How long had she been in the safe house? One day, she figured. Which meant she had eleven days until the auction. Eleven days to find a way out of here, return to Colombia, and rescue those girls.

“Is Noelle here?” she asked, glancing around the front hall. She was surprised by the elegance of the space. Gorgeous landscapes covered the off-white walls, bringing an air of peace and charm, and a skylight above allowed sunshine to stream into the house.

“She went into town,” came Kane’s voice. “She left word with Lloyd that she’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Lloyd?” Abby echoed.

“Our housekeeper.”

She raised one brow. “Your housekeeper is male?”

“Yep. He’s a great guy,” Ethan said. “You’ll like him.”

He was about to say more when a blur of brown and black burst into the hall and Abby found herself staring at a huge German shepherd with oddly floppy ears. Her gaze connected with the liquid brown eyes of the dog, who snarled when he saw her.

“And this is Bear,” Kane said with a grin. “Don’t be offended. He doesn’t usually like strang—”

A loud whine interrupted. The dog was suddenly at Abby’s side, rubbing his nose against her leg. Bear stared up at her, unblinking, then shifted his head toward Kane and Ethan and let out a deep growl.

Both men raised their eyebrows. “Why is he growling at us?” Ethan asked in a wary voice.

Kane let out a sigh. “He’s protecting her.”

I can protect myself,
she almost grumbled at the dog.

Shaking his head, Kane turned to Ethan. “Take the mutt and go help Luke unload the gear. I’ll show Abby to her room.”

With a faint good-bye, Ethan slid out the front door, leaving her and Kane alone in the massive hall.

“Cute dog,” she remarked wryly.

Kane looked a tad bewildered. “Uh, not usually.” He shrugged and reached for her. “Come on—let’s go upstairs.”

She moved away before he could take her arm. For some reason, she didn’t want him to touch her. When Ethan helped her inside, his touch had felt brotherly. The younger man wasn’t attracted to her. Neither was D, or even Luke, despite his subtle flirting, which was why she felt reluctantly at ease with them. But Kane… He hadn’t flirted with her, hadn’t sent any suggestive looks in her direction, yet she sensed the sexual awareness simmering beneath the surface. He noticed her as a woman, and that was something that always made her distinctly uncomfortable.

“I can manage,” she said coolly, walking toward the stairs on her left. Her ribs throbbed, but she breathed through the pain and forced her legs to carry her up the steps.

Kane trailed after her, and she could feel his dark green eyes boring into her back. On the second-floor landing, he took the lead, ushering her into a bedroom that was surprisingly cozy. Pale yellow curtains hung at a large window that overlooked the grounds. A tall cedar
bookshelf rested against one wall, crammed with novels, from Dostoevsky to Stephen King, and the lovely stone fireplace with the leather armchair next to it offered a quiet niche to lose yourself in. The massive bed with its four posts and filmy canopy reminded her of something out of a Victorian-era painting.

“I see you’re admiring the bed.” Kane’s voice came out slow and silky. “Most women seem to like it.”

She whirled around in time to see a sensual glint fill his green eyes, and she immediately stiffened, confused by the fire that spread through her body. What the hell was that? Desire? She banished the thought. No, she didn’t feel things like desire or sexual awareness. It was probably indignation, over the fact that he was flirting with her.

“I want to see Noelle,” she said firmly.

“I told you, she’s not back yet. So why don’t you take a nap and I’ll wake you when she gets here.” He raked a hand through his blond hair. “It was a long flight. Get some rest.”

She squared her shoulders. “I don’t want to rest.”

“Fine,” he muttered. “Then how about a cup of tea? Lloyd’s really into tea. He has these different kinds that are supposed to treat all types of ailments.” He cocked his head. “Maybe he’s got one with truth serum.”

Her lips tightened. “I’ll have coffee.”

“Of course.” He rolled his eyes. “Well, then, we’re going back downstairs apparently.”

He kept his hands to himself as they headed down the staircase. The kitchen was off the main hallway, an enormous room with granite counters and stainless-steel appliances. When they walked in, a giant of a man was pouring steaming coffee into two large mugs, as if he’d
anticipated the request Kane hadn’t even posed yet. The man had a head of curly red hair, a beard that seemed to devour his entire face, and a bulky frame that made him look like a linebacker.

“You must be Abby,” the giant said with a cheerful smile. “I’m Lloyd.”

“Nice to meet you.” She was slightly taken aback by his gentle voice. It seemed out of place coming from such an intimidating, massive man.

“May I ask what happened to your face?” Lloyd inquired in a polite tone.

She met his eyes. “I walked into a door.”

“Of course,” he said with a nod. He glanced at Kane. “Sit out on the patio. It’s a gorgeous day. Blue sky, yellow sun, singing birds—my three favorite things.”

“Well, God forbid we miss out on such splendor,” Kane said mockingly.

Lloyd shot him a disapproving look before turning to Abby. “Kane doesn’t appreciate the simple things in life.” He placed the coffee mugs on a steel tray. “He’s also too sarcastic for his own good. Don’t blame him for that, though. It’s his nature.”

Abby followed Lloyd through the sliding glass door that led out to a large stone terrace. She sank into one of the high-backed wicker chairs surrounding the white table, breathing in the fresh, balmy air. “You’re right,” she said to Lloyd as he handed her the coffee mug. “It’s gorgeous out.”

“At least one of you appreciates it,” Lloyd responded. He set Kane’s mug on the table and headed back to the kitchen.

“Where’d Morgan find that guy?” she asked, watching
as Lloyd ducked to avoid hitting his head on the doorframe. “The Dallas Cowboys?”

“Nothing so glamorous. He was working as a Mob enforcer in Boston when he and Morgan crossed paths.” Kane lifted his cup to his lips and took a long sip. She couldn’t help but be drawn to his mouth. It was far too sensual. Wide, with a bottom lip slightly fuller than the top one. His mouth was his only soft feature. Everything else about him was hard, rugged, piercing.

“Checking me out?” he quipped, eyeing her over the rim of the mug.

“Trying to figure you out,” she corrected. “How’d you meet Jim?”

“He approached me after I left the SEALs. I’ve been working for him for eight years now.”

“You were a SEAL?”

He nodded. “So was Luke, but he was with the East Coast teams. I was with the West. What about you? How did you end up working for Noelle?”

Abby sipped her coffee, letting the hot liquid slide down her throat. “She found me when I was doing contract work for the CIA. She made me a better offer and I took it.”

Kane looked intrigued. “Did she train you, or was that Jeremy Thomas?”

Her throat clogged at the sound of Jeremy’s name. She stayed quiet. She didn’t like talking about Jeremy. He’d died seven years ago, yet the loss was still fresh, a painful vise that squeezed her heart.

“Tell me,” Kane asked curiously, “why did an Army Ranger decide to adopt a fifteen-year-old foster kid?”

“You’d have to ask Jeremy that,” she answered in a cool voice.

“I’d like to, but apparently he’s dead,” Kane said bluntly. “Want to fill in the blanks?”

“No.”

“I thought so.”

“On the plane you told me you knew Devlin,” she said suddenly. “I want to know about him.”

Kane narrowed his eyes. “Why? Are you planning on launching a second attack on him?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure he’s going to try to come after me.”

“Because you tore his eye out.”

“Yeah, and because he couldn’t break me. He seems like the type of man who doesn’t handle failure very well.”

Kane laughed. “You’ve got that right.”

“I found only the bare details when I researched him before going undercover. I need to know more. What am I up against?”

“Take your definition of
sick bastard
and multiply it by ten thousand. That’s Devlin.”

She sighed. “That bad?”

“Oh yes.”

“I know he was born in Liverpool, raised by his father. His mother was South African and died in childbirth. That’s all I managed to find out.” She took another sip of coffee. “Do you know more about his background?”

“More than I want to know,” Kane said, letting out a breath. “He left England and moved to South Africa when he turned eighteen, wanted to learn more about where his mother came from. Turned out she came from a shady family that had been smuggling diamonds into Liberia for years. Devlin dabbled in smuggling for a
while but decided the family business bored him. He found being a soldier for hire far more exciting.”

“And you know all this how?”

“Morgan was considering hiring him. He came on an extraction gig with us, about eight years ago, but he had a violent streak none of us liked. So Morgan cut him loose. Devlin went to work for Blanco a couple years later.”

“His dream job,” she said, sarcastic. “He gets to beat and torture people all day long.”

“Not many people survive his
interrogations
.” His green eyes searched her face. “Why didn’t he kill you, Abby?”

She shrugged. “Blanco had other plans in mind for me.”

“I take it you’re not going to share those plans with me.”

“I can’t.” She curled her fingers over the handle of the mug, a wave of desperation rising in her chest. Damn it, she shouldn’t be here. She needed to get back to Bogotá, needed to plan an attack. She’d been in perfect position before Kane and the men decided to rescue her, and now she’d be forced to start from scratch, figure out a new way to rescue those girls before Blanco sold them off like cattle.

Damn it
.

“We can help,” Kane said roughly. “Whatever you’ve gotten yourself into, you don’t need to do it alone.”

She met his gaze, startled by the intensity in his eyes, the sincerity of his voice. For a moment she was tempted to spill everything. Tell him about the girls she so desperately wanted to rescue. Tell him
why
it was so important to her. But in her entire twenty-eight years, she’d opened up to only two people. One was dead. The other didn’t know the meaning of judgment.

Would Kane judge her if she told him about her past, the things she’d done to stay alive?

Maybe. Maybe not.

Either way, she couldn’t trust him. He was a stranger to her. And a good-looking stranger to boot. Those movie star looks alone were reason not to trust him.

Lifting her mug, she took another long sip, then said, “Alone is the only way I know how to do things.”

“I assure you, the festivities will go on as planned,” Blanco was saying as Devlin marched outside.

Holding the phone with one hand, Blanco raised his other one when he noticed Devlin. An order for silence. Tightening his lips, Devlin drifted across the terrace to the iron railing overlooking the yard. He stared down at the lavish kidney-shaped swimming pool below, surrounded by healthy green foliage and colorful exotic flowers. Trying to control his impatience, he listened to Blanco’s half of the conversation, battling the impulse to grab the bloody phone and whip it into the pool.

“There won’t be a raid, Juan,” Blanco told the caller in a reassuring tone. “The assault you’re referring to has been highly overexaggerated. The men involved weren’t government. I have everything taken care of.” He paused. “I know you’ve invested a large amount of money in this invitation. Everything is under control… Yes, I know… My solicitor will be in touch with details by the end of the week.”

Blanco was fuming as he hung up the phone.

“Will Juan Cortez be a problem?” Devlin asked with a pleasant smile.

“Damn that woman,” Blanco said without responding to the question. “I ordered the guards not to speak of last
night’s activities, but word seems to have gotten out. The bidders are growing uneasy.”

“You could always cancel the auction,” Devlin said in a bored voice.

“Cancel it?” Blanco sounded outraged. “I will do no such thing. This is going to be something extraordinary, the festivities we’ve planned. Dear Devlin, we are offering a service no one else in the world would even dare advertise!”

Devlin didn’t give a bloody rat’s ass about Blanco’s auction. As far as he was concerned, they had more pressing matters to deal with. He reached up to rub his eye, grimacing when he encountered the coarse material of the ridiculous eye patch one of the guards had brought back from the market. As his impatience spilled over, he twisted his mouth in a lethal scowl. “Why isn’t the jet ready?” he snapped. “I told you I wanted to head out this morning.”