Instead, I’d let them stay in the suites on the fourth floor since I slept on the solarium level anyway.
“This is your home or your family’s?” Angel asked from the back seat.
“Mine alone,” I murmured, looking over at Kensington.
Her mother’s compound was more stately than this, and I doubted her father’s was anything less. Kensington had inherited her residence in London from her grandparents, and it too was imposing.
“This is brilliant,” she murmured, gasping when we came out of the oak canopy and could see the bay.
I’d never cared about another’s opinion of my home. It was mine. With Kensington, her praise made my chest puff out.
“We can take a walk down to the beach later, if you’d like.” Angel could come along, of course, but something inside me hoped she wouldn’t.
I took their bags in and showed them to the fourth floor.
“Where do you sleep?” Kensington asked when I showed her into the master bedroom and Angel to the companion suite.
“On the level above.”
“But your things are in here.” She pointed to the open door of the dressing room.
“My apologies. I’ll move them before you retire for the night.”
“That isn’t what I mean, Cortez. I don’t want you to give up your bedroom for me.”
I smiled and walked over to the windows. “You aren’t.”
Her forehead scrunched.
“I promise. Would you like to get settled now?”
“I’d rather you show me around, if you don’t mind.”
“You two go ahead,” Angel said, coming to the bedroom door. “I have some work to catch up on.”
We took the lift to the lowest level. Given it was unseasonably warm for December, I invited her to make use of the outdoor pool.
“Hello, Señor Cortez. Welcome home,” I heard Marta, my housekeeper, say. I walked over and embraced the woman I’d known since I was a teenager.
“Kensington, meet Marta. Should you need anything and I’m not available, Marta will help you find it.” I went on to explain that another guest was getting settled on the fourth floor and both women would be staying with me indefinitely.
I’d already made arrangements for additional household help. Since my parents would be spending the holidays in Madrid, the staff from their Mallorca residence would be available to assist Marta when needed.
Kensington commented favorably on each level of my home, but it was the solarium that she fell in love with, as had I.
“It’s breathtaking,” she said, marveling at the one-hundred-and-eighty-degree views. “What is that over there?” She pointed toward the chapel.
“Many of the historic properties on the island have private chapels.”
“Is that a cemetery?”
I nodded, not wanting to encourage questions about that particular part of the estate.
“This is where I sleep,” I said, showing her the place I considered my sanctuary.
“Oh. I see.” She smiled when I hit the switch that rolled up the floor-to-ceiling windows. “No wonder you don’t sleep below.”
I kept the fireplace cleaned and stacked with new wood, so I knelt down and lit it while Kensington peeked into the bathroom.
“You have the same layout,” I said when I saw her standing by the jetted tub.
“Does this open as well?” she asked.
I hit a switch, and instead of rolling into the ceiling, the window above the bath split in the middle and tucked into pockets in the walls on either side.
“No luxury spared,” she murmured.
“She belongs here,” said the woman who too often of late interrupted my thoughts.
I closed my eyes and rested my hand on the fireplace’s mantel. Stop it.
“Let go, Cort. Stop fighting. Let her into your heart.”
“Come,” I said to Kensington, rushing her out of my space and over to the lift. “Please make yourself at home. There are intercoms you may use to contact Marta if there’s anything you need.”
“Would you still like to take a walk down to the beach later?” she asked.
I shook my head. “You and Angel may go. There’s much work I need to catch up on, given my unplanned trip to New York.”
I saw the flash of hurt in her eyes but made no apology. If anything, Celestina’s words only reminded me of my resolve to stifle any feelings I’d developed for Kensington.
I walked back to my sleeping quarters and stretched out on the bed.
“Shame on you,” came the voice I chose to ignore.
Twenty minutes later, as I stood against the railing, looking out at the sea, Kensington and Angel walked out to the pool five floors below me.
The hot-pink bikini she wore, similar to the one I’d seen in photos, was in stark contrast to the blue water of the pool. She dove in and swam underwater to the opposite end. I continued watching as she and Angel made several more laps before Kensington climbed out, removed her bikini top, and stretched out her fucking perfect half-naked body on a chaise.
I couldn’t look away. I had to look away. Every time I did look away, my eyes were drawn back to her. Every part of me wanted to touch every part of her. Was it so wrong?
I turned my head to the right and looked down at the cemetery where my beloved Celestina rested. Seeing the headstone, even from a distance, reminded me that wanting Kensington wasn’t just wrong, being with her was out of the question. That part of my life was finished. I’d loved once and lost everything. I’d not do it again.
I walked back into the bedroom and pulled out the book I’d started in Budapest. Later, I’d let Marta know I’d have dinner in my suite, and tomorrow, I’d leave for Madrid to spend Christmas with my family.
Kensington wasn’t here for a holiday, she was here because she needed protection. I knew enough about her life that I’d contacted Z and asked specifically for Angel to be put on her detail. There was no one else Kensington was close to other than her deceased grandparents. I also knew Teagon would have no desire to spend the holidays with her family.
Mallorca was six hours ahead of Naples, Florida. I picked up my mobile, checked the time, and placed a call.
“Rile? Long time no talk,” joked Casper.
“Are you interested in an assignment?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“It will be faster if you fly commercial.”
“Not a problem, Rile. Just get me the hell out of here.”
I told her I’d email her flight confirmation as soon as I booked it.
Casper had suffered a loss like I had, although hers was more recent. Her husband had been killed in an op a little over a year ago. With no other family, I knew she’d be the first to take on a job over the holidays. I could tell myself that her being a woman had no influence on my decision to contact her over another independent, but I’d be lying.
While I couldn’t allow myself to pursue Kensington, I wasn’t ready to watch any other man do so either.
9
Kensington
“What’s wrong?” Teagon asked when I pushed my way into her room and flopped down on the bed.
“It’s almost as if there’s a voice inside his head, and the minute he gets close to kissing me, it tells him to stop. And not just stop, to push me away.”
“Pretty nice digs, though.” She stood and walked out to the terrace. “It’s so beautiful here.”
“Right?”
“Think it’s warm enough for a swim?” she asked.
“Outside, you mean?”
“Is there another option?”
I told her that in addition to the pool on the lowest level—the one we were looking at—there was another on the top floor, plus an indoor pool somewhere. This place was so big, I couldn’t remember where I’d seen it.
“Rile said he slept above us. Where the pool is?”
I nodded. “You should see it.” Actually, I didn’t want her to. I pictured him there,
naked naturally, because a man like Cortez would surely sleep that way.
“So that one?” she pointed below us.
“I’m game, as long as it’s heated.”
“Wuss.”
I changed into my suit but left everything else in my bag. There’d be time to unpack later. I grabbed a cover-up and met Teagon by the lift.
“I feel like we’re back to being schoolmates.”
“Gawd, but we got in a heap of trouble then,” she said, shaking her head.
“Wasn’t that long ago.” I winked.
“Oh, boy.” Teagon laughed and rolled her eyes. “And I’m supposed to be protecting you.”
“About that…you don’t think it’s a bit over the top?”
She shook her head, and all evidence of amusement washed from her face. “Konstantine is dangerous, Kenzie. Don’t doubt it.”
When I rolled my eyes, she put her hand on my arm.
“I’m here to protect you, not to be your best mate. You need to remember that I’m working.”
The pool was heated, and the swim felt bloody fantastic—especially after Teagon’s scolding. I did a few laps, climbed out, and saw that Marta had left a stack of towels near the chaises. I spread one out and removed my bikini top, anxious for the sun to bake the stress toxins out of me.
A few minutes later, Teagon sat beside me. “You’re teasing the tiger, all right.”
“You can’t be serious.”
She laughed. “I’d love to see the look on Rile’s face right now. He’s probably swallowed his tongue.”
I shielded my eyes from the sun. “He’s European, Teag. Topless sunbathing isn’t exactly rare.”
“Your tits are so much nicer than mine.”
“Sod off.”
“I’m serious. I’m leaving my top on.”
I flipped onto my stomach and turned my head so I could see the upper levels of the house. Cortez was leaning on the railing of the top floor, and even from here, I could tell he didn’t look happy. He could bloody well sod off too. If he didn’t want me around, he had plenty of options. Like letting me go home, for example.
I turned away, and when I looked back, he was gone.
“What’s Cortez’s deal, anyway?”
Teagon sighed and rolled to her stomach. “I’ve heard rumors.”
I faced her and propped my head on my hand. “Share.”
“It’s been some time, but evidently, he was involved with a woman who was killed. Some kind of accident.”
“Seriously?”
“Remember I said rumor.”
“I guess that would explain why he’s so standoffish. At least in part. How long ago did you say?”
“I’ve no idea. It’s all very hush-hush.”
“Why?”
Teagon shrugged. “It’s just that way in the intelligence world with our own. No matter who it is.”
“He kissed me once.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“Best bloody kiss of my life.”
“Figures.”
“Who was the best kiss of your life?”
Teagon shook her head and laughed. “Oh no, we’re not going down that road.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve bleached it from memory.”
“Your best kiss? That makes no sense. Why wouldn’t you want to remember it?”
“Because I’ll never see him again.” She looked away.
“What happened to him, Teag?” God, I hoped he hadn’t died too.
“He’s an American.”
“Well! That explains everything.”
She turned her head so I could see her eyes, and in them, I saw the same hurt I felt when Cortez pushed me away a few minutes ago.
“What happened?”
“He got back with an ex-girlfriend.”
“The wanker! While you were involved?”
“Yes. Involved is a good word.”
“How’d you meet this American?”
“He was my flight instructor.”
“Gordon Bennett!”
“Can we change the subject now?” Teagon sat up and pointed behind me.
“What?” I turned my head and saw Cortez walking in the opposite direction of the house. “Where’s he going?”
Teagon shrugged.
“I’m going to change,” I said a few minutes later, standing and grabbing my bikini top and cover-up.
“Liar. You’re going to spy.”
Without answering, I rushed over to the lift and took it to the fourth floor. From there, I could see Cortez clearly as he knelt by a gravestone in the small cemetery.
I gave up watching after a while, only getting up every so often to see if he was still there. He was, long after the sun went down, long after Marta made dinner for Teagon and me.
“Is he okay?” I asked, thinking it was my friend standing behind me.
“Sí,” said Marta, startling me when she put her hand on my shoulder. “He goes to talk to her every night when he is here.”
“Who was she?”
“Celestina. His wife. Beside her, rests their unborn child.”
I gasped and covered my mouth; I wrapped my other arm around my stomach.
I thought about how Cortez had come to comfort me the night he and Grinder saved me from Konstantine, and again on the plane when I couldn’t sleep. I wished I could go to him, ease his sorrow the way he had my fear. I knew better than to try. While I welcomed him in my life, he pushed me out of his.
It wasn’t until the next night at dinner that Marta reported Cortez had left before sunrise.
“Where did he go?” I asked.
“To spend Christmas in Madrid with his family.”
“What the hell?” I mouthed to Teagon, who shrugged and pulled out her mobile when it vibrated.
“There’s another person from his team arriving in the morning. She’ll be staying on here as well.”
“She? Who is she?”
“Casper.”
I raised a brow.
“I haven’t worked with her, but I know of her. She was a really good agent.”
“Was?”
“She still is, but retired from the CIA. Quit is more accurate.”
“Do you know why?”
Teagon nodded. “Her husband was killed in an op. Rumor is the agency covered up his cause of death.”
“Why is she staying on?”
“Added layer of protection.”
Because Cortez wasn’t here and wouldn’t be. Gone were his promises of taking us into town to see the Christmas lights or visit the markets. Without a word, he’d fled to Madrid, solely to get away from me.
The next morning, I took the lift down one level, wondering if there were stairs somewhere. Surely there had to be. What if the lift broke?
“Oh! Good morning,” I said to a woman standing in the kitchen who, even from the back, looked nothing like Marta.
“Good morning,” she responded, turning around to look me up and down. “Kensington?”
“That’s right. Casper?” I stepped forward and held out my hand. “Good God,” I groaned when she shook it. “I thought you were supposed to protect me, not break me.”
She laughed. “Sorry about that.”
“Hey,” I heard Teagon say, coming in from outside.
“Wait. How did you get down here?”
She pointed behind her. “The stairs?”
“What stairs?” I walked outside, and sure enough, there was an outdoor stairwell. Not quite sure how I’d missed it. Well, I knew how I’d missed it; my mind was clouded with lust. No more, though. Even if Cortez were here, I swore off him last night. What kind of arsehole leaves on holiday without saying as much as happy Christmas?
When I came back inside, Teagon and Casper were in the midst of something, but immediately stopped talking.
I walked over to the dining table and took a handful of grapes from the bowl of fresh fruit. “If it’s about me, say it when I can hear you.”
Casper looked from me to Teagon, who took a deep breath.
“That isn’t always a good idea.”
I pulled out a chair, sat down, and rested my elbows on the table after I grabbed a banana. “Why not?”
“There are things we should be aware of that you shouldn’t,” Casper answered.
I thought that over. “Because I’d react and you wouldn’t?”
“Precisely,” said Teagon. “All you need to know is that Casper and I will work in shifts. One of us will be with you and/or watching you at all times.”
Casper leaned forward. “Do you understand?”
“So dramatic,” I muttered under my breath.
Both women glared at me.
“You know, the two of you could star in a BBC show about spies. Seriously, just look at you.”
Teagon had long, curly, dark blonde hair and blue eyes and looked like a girly-girl, although I knew she was anything but. I’d seen her take down both of her brothers, and they were twice her size.
Casper had shoulder-length, straight, dark almost-black hair that was shaved on the side and green eyes. I already knew her strength, given she almost broke the bones in my hand, but looking at her, I knew she could snap my neck without breaking a sweat. I shuddered.
Teagon rolled her eyes. “Might defeat the purpose of being spies.”
“Do all of you have tattoos?” I asked Casper, checking out the detail of her sleeve.
“All of who?”
“You know, Cortez, Grinder, you.”
She thought about it for a minute. “Pretty much everyone with the Invincibles does.”
“Lynx doesn’t,” said Teagon.
“Who’s Lynx?”
“MI6,” they answered at the same time.
“Well, not anymore,” Teagon added.
I had no idea what they were talking about, but I wasn’t interested in an explanation. “So, what happens now?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, can we go into town, have lunch or something?”
Again, Casper looked from me to Teagon, who shrugged.
Riled (The Invincibles Book 4) Page 6