by Karen Anders
Beau wanted to smash his face again. In Spanish, he asked, “Why did you come after us?”
“Orders,” he said, giving Beau a nasty look. His eyes went to Kinley, caressed her face and moved slowly down her body.
“Ojos aquí,” Beau ordered. He wanted the cartel goon’s eyes on his own and off Kinley.
“Vamos a violar a tu mujer antes de matarte.”
We will rape and kill your woman before we kill you. Beau grabbed him by his hospital gown and dragged him close. “You’re not going to live to see the next few minutes, if you don’t answer my question.”
It was obvious the guy understood him. It was in his eyes.
“Who ordered you to come after us?”
He stayed mute.
Beau hit him in his freshly bandaged nose. He howled and covered it.
In heavily accented English, he growled, “We were to kill the women and child and anyone one else who saw us,” he said, his voice muffled.
“Is this about Diego Montoya?”
The man’s eyes widened and he spat. “That pendejo!”
“What do you know about him?” Beau’s voice was low and hard-edged.
“He’s a dead man walking.”
“Like you?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Only we’re putting the word out on the street that you’re cooperating with us. So, you might as well.”
His eyes widened and he hesitated only for a second. “I’ll need protection!” he said, fear alive in his eyes.
“What do you know about Montoya?”
He blew out a breath looking like a trapped rat. Beau had zero sympathy. “He changed his appearance and we’re looking for information on who did the surgery. They want to know what he looks like now.”
“Here?”
“No, in Cuba.”
“The doctor’s name?”
“I don’t know. I swear.”
No matter how Beau came at the guy, he didn’t have the information they needed. Both he and Kinley reported back to their respective supervisors. They checked out of the hotel they were in and into another one. Two DEA agents watched over them while they slept. Well, he tried to sleep. Lying on his back, he missed the soft warmth of her snuggled up to him. Who the hell would have thought he’d enjoy a snuggler?
Dammit, he didn’t know what was wrong with him. It was as if his technique for keeping himself distant had suddenly eluded him.
He shifted restlessly, thinking what might have happened if he hadn’t been in her room when those goons had broken in. He was a seasoned warrior, used to sleeping with one eye open, tuned to his surroundings and any change in them.
He wasn’t downplaying Kinley’s abilities, but she’d never been in combat. Combat was complete and utter chaos and the only things that’d kept him alive were his teammates and his training and skill.
He shifted again to his side and pushed the heavy hair off his face. Damn, he’d been sleeping alone for a long time, so why in hell couldn’t he just shut down?
He wanted Kinley with him...to keep her safe. Dammit, he hadn’t wanted to fall into that trap. Simple investigation hadn’t made him worry about her. But they’d been in two firefights since they’d landed on this island. Las Espadas had quite a presence here. Made him wonder why Daniel the bastard wasn’t aware. Or were they out in force because of the possible sightings of Montoya?
Montoya. What a piece of work, a lowlife and a very wanted man. Montoya had originally been a pilot flying drugs and he’d happened to get the DEA on his tail, but had managed to not only elude them, but to get the drugs where they needed to go.
The leader of Las Espadas, Pedro Martinez, wanted to reward his ingenuity. He hired Montoya as a kind of air-traffic controller, negotiating directly with the Mexican cartels, then guiding their cocaine flight from Cuba to secret runways in barren stretches of Mexico. Knowing he was being monitored, he’d sing a snippet of a song as directions to pilots.
He’d become a gatekeeper to Martinez, fielding his phone calls and accompanying him on foreign trips. He was the one who opened the conduit of money from “The Assassin” into the cartel’s coffers.
So, the doctor in Cuba could have been compromised. But they wouldn’t know that until Beau went hunting for him.
He was determined to keep Kinley out of any more firefights. He had to give her credit. She had reacted quickly and even taken down targets without hesitation. She was such a bundle of uptight nerves, that had surprised him. But in a battle, she threw down and threw down hard.
Daniel, the bastard, had been a fool to treat her like he had.
He had never discounted a woman. He might have had a long string of them, but he always chose the kind that knew the score and didn’t mind playing with him for a night. His reaction to the way Daniel was trying to get a second chance with her was something that Beau didn’t understand. But all he could think about when Daniel had cornered her in the snack area was that he wanted to break his face, even though Kinley was more than capable of taking care of herself.
He sat up and ran his hands through his hair again, swearing softly. Sweat broke out on his brow. Struggling for breath, he knew he might have made a mistake here and he wasn’t used to admitting that. He felt his short leash getting shorter. If Daniel touched her again, he wasn’t sure what he would do. He flexed his hands, weapons in their own right.
All he could think was mine. She was his. It might be temporary, but for now, right this freaking second in time, she was with him.
He also realized that they were going to Cuba. He’d already suggested to Chris that he take this mission solo. Mostly because he was trained for this kind of covert op and he would be able to get the job done quickly. In and out, smooth as butter. She could stay in the Bahamas. He gritted his teeth at the thought of leaving her here anywhere near Daniel. But Cuba would be dangerous.
Solo. Yeah, that’s what he’d been doing for a number of years. Taking the warmth women had to offer in brief spurts, meeting the needs of his body, but never engaging his heart. It had been simple...until now. From the moment he’d met the fiery redhead, he’d been...intrigued. Besotted.
He rose out of bed and slipped on a pair of shorts. Knocking softly on the adjoining room door, he waited.
The feelings that were growing for her were impossible. Especially when she wasn’t interested in a relationship that could jeopardize her career. The only factor that played a role here was if she was as involved in her career as Jennifer was. He was long over his ex, but not the ingrained fear of trusting the wrong person again and getting his heart broken. Yes, Kinley was different than Jennifer in so many ways. Her coloring, her outlook on life, her confidence.
Trouble. God, he was in trouble here.
She answered the door in one of those nothings that women wore to sleep. This one was hot pink.
“What’s wrong?” she asked when she saw his face.
“Nothing.” When she snuggled into his arms, he maneuvered them both back into her bed. Just where he’d wanted her.
Her eyes a sleepy green, she said, “You should be sleeping.”
“Couldn’t,” he said, then dipped his head and pressed his mouth to hers. The clamoring in him settled down immediately. He kissed her for a few more minutes. “How are you doing?”
She shrugged. “It’s been a crazy week so far.”
“Yeah, that is for sure.”
“I’m glad you’re on our side.”
He smiled.
“Can you show that knife trick to me sometime?”
“Sure. It’ll make you more of a badass.”
She laughed softly. “Right. That fits.”
Without saying a word, he settled against her. With her soft, steady breathing, the intoxicating scent
of her filling him up, he sank against her and fell right to sleep.
He woke up at her restless movement as she groaned softly, and kicked off her sheet. He looked down the length of her body. A damp sheen of sweat covered her skin, from the backs of her calves, in the tender hollows behind her knees, up her thighs and over the incredible curves of her butt. Was there a woman on this planet as put together as Kinley Cooper?
She made a soft sound in the room and he straightened. Was that a whimper? Suddenly she thrashed and he knew a nightmare when he saw one.
“Chérie. Wake up.”
Her eyes fluttered open and she stared up at him. “You were having a nightmare.”
“It was a bad one,” she shivered, wrapping her arms around his neck. Settling against him she closed her eyes.
He held her close, knowing what she was going through. This had been quite a case so far. She made a contented sound and he let himself drift until he fell asleep again.
* * *
The warmth of him was a surprise when she woke up but hadn’t opened her eyes yet. His arm was around her waist and his face buried in her hair. She could feel the heaviness of his breath against her neck. She sighed. That was all she could do. The scent of him wrapped around her, a scent that told her he was all male, hot and spicy.
She looked at the clock. Breakfast was going to be here in a few minutes. He shouldn’t even be in her room, but she couldn’t dredge up enough energy to protest with his heavy muscles against her back.
She tried to slip away from him, but he tightened his arm around her waist, and dragged her under him.
“Where you goin’, chérie?”
His accent was thick, his voice husky in the morning.
“Breakfast will be here any minute,” she said looking up into his arresting face.
“Mmm.” He nuzzled her. “I think I found my breakfast.”
“Beau, no,” she said weakly. “We have a briefing in an hour.”
There was a knock on the door and he sighed.
She slipped out of bed and grabbed her robe as he rose and watched her walk away from him. He disappeared through the adjoining door when she opened the door. Both male agents turned, their gazes going over her.
Kinley smiled at the woman who rolled in the tray and ignored the male interest. When the girl raised her head, she stopped in midroll as Beau, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans came back through the door, it was quite obvious that the way the man looked knocked the poor girl for a loop.
He was deliciously tousled, his hair mussed, beard stubble making him look even more appealing and quite dangerous. That girl was too young to have any defense against him.
“I’ll take that for you,” he said with a smile.
She came back to herself and relinquished the cart. He took the warmer off one of the dishes and wrinkled up his nose. Then the other. He looked up at her. “Ah, shoot, sugar, I like the Big Easy, but I don’t like eggs over easy. Do you think I could get ’em scrambled with just a bit of pepper?”
“Of course, sir, right away.”
She picked up the dish and, blushing heavily, exited the room.
As soon as the door closed, Kinley arched a brow at him.
His lips curved. “What?” he said innocently, holding her gaze. The combination of that twinkle in his eyes and his laughter was downright lethal.
“You know what.”
“Are you saying that you think I have experience in cajoling members of the opposite sex?”
“Oh, I don’t think I could stretch my imagination that much,” she said.
He laughed and picked up a blueberry off one of the plates and popped it into his mouth.
* * *
When Kinley entered the meeting room back at the embassy, she settled into one of the chairs and Beau took a seat next to her. As soon as Daniel and Ken entered, the wide-screen came to life, revealing both the director and the commandant flashing on the screen.
“Agent Jerrott, your request to go into Cuba to track down a possible picture of Diego Montoya is granted, but your request to do this solo is denied. SA Cooper and Wescott will accompany you. Agent Westcott has a contact who may have information on the identity of the doctor. You and Cooper will pose as a wealthy married couple.”
Kinley stiffened beside him and turned to glare at him. He didn’t look at her. He had been trying to cut her out of going to Cuba? Why? Didn’t he trust her to pull her own weight? Did he think she was incompetent? Couldn’t handle herself under pressure or undercover? Disappointment in him flooded her system and on its heels, anger. Hadn’t she just spilled her guts to him about being discounted? Hadn’t he heard a word she’d said?
“Sir, with all due respect, I’ve logged hours of undercover work, covert ops—”
The commandant said, “I have reviewed your file, Agent Jerrott. But this operation is better served with subterfuge than brute force. You will not engage the Las Espadas. You will locate the surgeon with the ruse that Agent Cooper wants plastic surgery, get a picture of Montoya and then get out. You have three days. In your mission packet you will find the map of where you need to be for extraction. Don’t waste time. Good luck.”
Chris said, “You’ll acquire weapons once you’re inside.”
“Yes, sir,” he said.
Kinley left the conference room and was directed to a room that had clothing laid out. So many different outfits, expensive jewelry, suitcases and a set of...wedding rings.
“Kinley,” Beau said.
She couldn’t look at him right now. “It would be better if you gave me a few minutes,” she said. What she couldn’t quite handle was her doubts. What if he was right? What if she messed up? There were so many things that could go wrong.
“Chérie,” he said, his voice closer, which meant so was he. She had to look up, but she really needed more space and more time. She was raw inside. Dealing with Beau up close in her personal space was more than she could take on at the moment.
“Don’t call me that. Not right now.” She took a steadying breath, and looked up.
“Let me explain.”
“What is there to explain? You don’t trust my abilities. After what I said to you...” She stepped back, picking up an outfit, thinking it might be too big for her.
He took a step closer and she tensed. She tried not to show it, but that much was really beyond her at the moment. The stabilized world she’d thought she’d constructed for herself had just been proven to have very shaky foundations. And she didn’t know what to do about that. What she did know was Beau Jerrott was the last person she’d ever reveal that to. He’d already gotten too much of her, had a way of looking at her, into her, like he saw far past her defenses, to some other place she was unaccustomed to people reaching. And that was without her being stupid enough to hand it over to him.
“No offense to your commandant, I don’t do brute-force missions. SEALs are all about stealth.” He said it quietly, but somehow the softer tone wasn’t the least bit comforting. In fact, it only served to unnerve her further. He saw too much, too easily.
“You want me to stay here. Admit it. You don’t think I can handle this mission.” She put her hand out when he took another step. “I was a fool to ever think anyone in the good-ol’-boys’ club would ever take me seriously. Just because we’re sleeping together doesn’t give you the right to make decisions for me. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.”
It was hardly a blink, and if she hadn’t been expressly looking for it, she’d never have noticed it, but there had been a flicker. She pounced on it without thinking twice. She was being eaten up inside thinking that he didn’t trust her.
“If you have concerns of any kind, why not just voice them? Don’t go behind my back and—”
His eyes went hard and flinty, and she had
to resist the urge to shiver. “I didn’t go behind your back.” Gone was that soft Southern drawl. In its place was a flat, steely voice that showed the other side of Beau. The warrior side. “I didn’t even mention you.”
“Right. You don’t have to. It’s firmly in your head. I’m a risk. Thanks, Beau. Thanks a lot.” She went to push past him, wanting nothing more than to end this conversation. She’d been badly rattled by the whole thing and this confrontation only made it worse.
He took her arm gently but firmly as she brushed by and turned her around to face him. “I’m not going to lie to you. Do I want you safely here? Damn right.”
She winced at that.
“You’ll be out of your element, Kinley. I don’t... I couldn’t handle you getting hurt.”
“Admirable,” she said, trying to maintain the steely facade, thinking her heart might melt out of her chest any second. “Is this about my abilities or my safety?”
“A little of both.”
Sex with a fellow agent could lead to this and it was her lapse to deal with. Men were overprotective of women—it was second nature. With Daniel, she’d been thrown to the wolves. But what was happening here with Beau? Was it his feelings for her that were making him hesitate, or the fact that she was going to be in a situation she hadn’t been fully trained to handle warring with the need to protect a woman he was intimate with?
His response changed things. “You need to put your feelings aside, Beau.”
He gave her a startled look.
“What feelings?” he growled.
“We’ve been intimate. You want to protect me. It’s part of the reason you want me to stay here. I can hold my own. I’m not as well trained as you are, but I can adapt and perform my duties. I know my way around a case, so stop with the macho bull.”
His jaw flexed as if he was gritting his teeth. “I like and respect you, Kinley. You can—”
“What? Trust you?” she demanded, embracing the righteous anger that filled her, along with the fear of failure, that it could all unravel at once. She tried to yank free, but he didn’t let her. “You should have told me your concerns. How can I trust that you’re not holding something back?”