Pint-Sized Protector

by Eve Langlais

  The room still appeared clean.

  She stopped the act. “What’s your first impression?”

  “Of the island or the people?”

  “Everything. You recognized a couple.”

  “I recognized a few of them, and I’d bet if I had a computer, I’d quickly figure out the others.”

  “Any clue as to what you all have in common?”

  His brow arched. “Other than the obvious wealth?”

  “Are your business interests aligned?”

  “Not in the least. Madame Bouvier, the lady with the younger companion, deals in lingerie and sexual enhancements for older women.”

  Kacy’s nose wrinkled. “That doesn’t seem to have anything in common with that guy from Australia, who is a cattleman.”

  “I’m going to guess there is something else that binds us together.”

  She planned to discover that reason. “Get ready for bed and don’t leave this room.” She slipped off her high-heeled shoes and laid them in front of the bathroom door. The windows were high and narrow; however, that wouldn’t stop someone wily and of slim build. “I’ll leave you my gun.”

  “Why? Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to find Marcus and see if he has any news for us.” Because she didn’t like the fact that he hadn’t met them at the door.

  Still not worried about him. He’s a big boy. But he wasn’t academy trained.

  Leaving the client alone was not an approved academy strategy; however, she didn’t plan to go far, and she ensured she’d hear if something happened. Working quickly, she strung items across the sliding door to their deck that led down to the beach. She layered more things on the windowsill. If anyone tried to come in, they’d make enough noise. She hoped.

  “Will you hear this over your snoring?” Kacy asked.

  “I do have some sense of preservation,” he retorted.

  “Not really, because if you did, we’d have never come here.”

  “Where would the fun be in that? I thought the academy trained its operatives to take chances.”

  “Operatives, yes. Clients, no.”

  “You’re no fun.” Said with a smile as Darren laced his hands behind his head.

  She was okay with that. “Here. Keep this handy in case you need it.” This being her gun. She chose to tuck a knife into the sheath on her thigh because only dumb girls went out unarmed.

  Leaving Darren, she strung more items across the threshold of the bedroom door. A vase, a few seashells. The knickknacks in this place proved plenty.

  Emerging from the cabana, she noted the shed door still stood open, and the strand of Christmas lights strung along the path provided only faint illumination.

  She didn’t have the slightest idea where to start looking for Marcus. Calling out for him probably wasn’t the brightest idea either.

  To anyone watching, she had to appear as if she had a purpose, so she muttered, “Where does a girl find some wine in this place?”

  She didn’t expect a reply, and most definitely didn’t anticipate the hand that slapped over her mouth.

  So she bit it.

  Hard.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Ow! Why are you biting me?” Marcus couldn’t help but yelp as Kacy’s sharp teeth nipped him.

  He removed his hand from her mouth but kept her tucked against him in the shadows, mostly because he liked the feel of her. She didn’t thrash or elbow him in the nuts, yet, so he enjoyed the cheap thrill of holding her while he could.

  “If you don’t want to get bitten, then don’t grab me without warning.”

  “If I warned you, then I’d never get my hands on you.”

  “I should have Darren fire you.” Said in an indignant huff.

  “You can drop the act, little pint.”

  “Who says it’s an act?”

  “We both know you like me.”

  “In your dreams, meathead.”

  He laughed, a low, husky sound. “You wouldn’t believe what you do in those.”

  Whirling in his grip, she pulled her arm back, but he tensed to absorb the punch.

  “How’s my acting now?” she snarled.

  “Wasted since no one is watching. I took a page from your book and found the hidden cameras out here. Three to be exact, plus a microphone.”

  “People could be watching in person,” she said, pulling out of his grip and putting space between them.

  “They could, but they’d have a hard time. Whoever designed the foliage in this place did so brilliantly. There is no real place for anyone to hide.”

  “You hid.”

  “In the only spot available. Anyone else wouldn’t be able to get close without me noticing.”

  “From this side perhaps, but what about on the beach side?”

  He shrugged. “Not much I can do about that. Anyone with scuba or snorkeling gear could technically swim right up to our beach. The good news is we’d see them coming.”

  “If we’re watching, which we’re not.”

  “I can’t be in two places at once, little pint.”

  “You should try harder.”

  Harder? He’d never been so hard in his life.

  “If you’re so worried about Darren, then why are you outside?”

  “I was looking for you.” A grudging admission.

  “Why, little pint, I’m touched. You were worried about me.”

  “Was not,” she hotly retorted.

  “Is it because you were thinking about the kiss you owe me?” He wanted to punch himself for saying it, and yet, his query had an effect.

  She inhaled sharply, and her cheeks bore a bright spot of color. “I owe you nothing.”

  “I didn’t take you for a welsher of bets.”

  She scowled—and still managed to look sexy. “Let’s go inside. Before we attract attention.”

  “Yes, kissing out in the open might blow your cover.”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of whipping your ass.”

  “Anything involving your hands on my body is okay with me.”

  With a growl of annoyance—or lust, maybe a combination of both—Kacy stalked back into the cabana.

  Following her in, he noted that, while she’d ditched the shoes, she still wore the dress, a summery frock that skimmed her body in ways that enhanced her curves.

  Curves he really shouldn’t notice. But…he was a man. A man whose balls ached. Whose cock refused to be tamed in her presence.

  And she kept torturing him.

  Perched on a chair, Kacy tucked her legs under her, nothing lady-like about her pose, and yet he’d never seen anything more sexy and feminine.

  She turned all business. “Did you find anything?”

  Ah, yes, the job. “Shouldn’t Darren hear this?”

  “You can report to him in the morning. Let him get some sleep. You’ll have the breakfast shift with him while I grab some extra z’s.”

  “You trust me to guard him?”

  “I don’t have a choice.” Then, more grudgingly, “You aren’t completely useless.”

  He grabbed his heart. “Ack. I think I must be dying because that wasn’t an insult.”

  She threw a flowered pillow at him. “Don’t be a meathead.”

  “Why? You going to beat me up again?” Please do.

  She shook her head and sighed, but he could see the smile hovering. “Tell me what you found.”

  It wasn’t as much as he would have liked. There were eight guest cabanas in total, ringing the island, far enough apart to give each one privacy. All were occupied by couples, and most, like Darren, had also brought a security person.

  The main house didn’t appear to have anyone staying in it, although it was harder to figure out, given none of the staff spoke English, and he didn’t want to push too hard.

  “I’ll see if I can subtly pump them for info tomorrow. What about the owner of this place? The guy who invited everyone? Did you find out anything?”

  At th
at question, Marcus shook his head. “Nada. Either no one knows, not even the staff, or they’re not saying. I even talked to a few of the other bodyguards. They claim their bosses have no idea either. All they know is that their clients came because of some mysterious invitation.” Weird thing, all of the security personnel seemed to have been outfitted in the same black security T-shirts meant to identify them. He had found extras on his bed when he returned from dinner. A not-so-subtle hint about their dress code while on the island.

  “Are all these people stupid? Who the hell just drops everything to go somewhere to meet someone?”

  “People with money to burn and power at their fingertips. The people on this island are loaded and span the nationalities.”

  “I noticed that at dinner. Or should I call it a snack?” She rubbed her tummy. “I could have eaten a whole tray of those little crab cakes and still had room for more.”

  Marcus grinned. “Hungry? Would it help to know they had steaks and baked potatoes for us big and burly men?”

  “I hate you.”

  “Now, little pint, you know what they say about hate.”

  “What do they say, meathead?” The words might sound challenging, but the way she said them…

  “It’s not your fault you lust after my body. It is impressive.” For some reason, despite being a usually low-key kind of guy with the ladies, with Kacy, he turned outrageous. He goaded her constantly, trying to get a rise out of her.

  “Impressive if you’re into giant rocks. I prefer my men slimmer, more finely toned than steroid bulky.”

  “I don’t do ’roids.”

  “And I don’t do meatheads. So if we’re done, continue with your report.”

  “Only a few of the visitors brought wives. Most, like Darren, brought girlfriends. Two of them of are young. I swear that old dude has to be pushing seventy. He could be a great-granddad to his arm piece. I don’t know how he can possibly keep her satisfied.”

  “Going to offer your services?” Her eyes sparked as she spat the query, and he held in a grin.

  Is that jealousy I hear? “I thought maybe I could get close to her, you know, give her what she needs in exchange for information.”

  Kacy’s fingers dug into the wicker armrests, and while she said in a cool tone, “Sounds like a good plan,” he detected a subtle undercurrent of anger.

  “Glad you approve. Hope I’m not too rusty. It’s been a while since I’ve been with a woman. Touched and kissed.”

  “You kissed me.”

  “I did, but barely. And then, even though you owe me a kiss, you reneged, so I guess I didn’t do it right.” Funny, because he could have sworn sparks had flown between them.

  “Your kiss was fine.”

  “Only fine?”

  Her fierce scowl couldn’t hide the red in her cheeks. “Great. Are you happy?”

  “Not really, because if it was great, why won’t you pay up?”

  “You didn’t technically fly the chopper.”

  “You’re splitting hairs.”

  “Are you going to harass me until I kiss you?”

  “Nope. I will just say I thought you were a woman of your word.”

  At that, she sprang out of the chair and stalked toward him, five foot nothing of bristling Latina fury.

  And passion.

  “I won’t have it said I don’t honor my debts. Bend down.”

  “Make me.”

  Instead, she jumped, once again climbing him and wrapping her limbs around his torso, and while she didn’t need his help holding on, his hands still cupped her ass, cradled the fullness of it, hating the fabric of her skirt that stood in the way of his touching her flesh.

  Her lips mashed against his, a fierce kiss meant to prove a point. Meant to pay her debt.

  But the anger in it quickly softened. The embrace turned sensual. Soft. Sweet.

  Standing there, their mouths fused, as did their tongues. Their panting breaths became one. One molten moment.

  Marcus couldn’t help but feel himself weaken as all the blood in his body and brain fled to a point south of his belt. His erection strained behind his slacks, swelled with need for this woman.

  He managed to find a seat on the couch, sitting down harder than he’d meant to, yet despite the jarring movement, Kacy remained clinging to him, lost in the passion of the kiss.

  She chose to straddle his lap and undulate against him, her heated core pressing against his firmness.

  The skirt of her dress rode up, and his hands kneaded the smooth flesh of her ass. A part of him expected her to bite him or push away at any moment. Yet she seemed just as caught up as he was by the arousal flaring between them.

  Just as needy and hungry.

  While his hands explored the curves he’d been lustfully admiring, so did she check him out, her hands skimming under his shirt, palming the hard planes of his chest. She ground herself against him, making small sounds against his mouth, sounds that he absorbed.

  With his long reach, he slipped his fingers under her and stroked against the damp crotch of her panties, a flimsy G-string that took only the slightest tug to move out of his way.

  With her mound bared, he stroked her velvety petals, spreading them to insert a finger, wetting the tip with her honey.

  He used her own slick juices to rub against her button, feeling her breath hitch as he pressed and circled that sensitive spot.

  Losing herself to the coiling passion, her fingers dug into his shoulders, and she stopped petting his flesh while fiercely sucking at his tongue.

  He stroked faster, alternately rubbing and then slipping a finger into her tight channel, feeling the hot walls of her sex clench. Her body bounced against his fingers, and he found himself panting for breath as he felt the pleasure coiling in her body, heard and smelled it.

  He thrust his fingers inside her just as she came, her sweet sex clenching and squeezing him so tightly, his own hips arched in reply. She buried her face into the crook where his neck met his shoulder and bit at his skin, her whole body trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her breaths came in hot and fast pants.

  For a moment, she collapsed against him, soft and sweet and sensual.

  Mine.

  Then, she bounced off.

  Smoothed her skirt down.

  And walked away.

  “Where…” His voice emerged very husky. “Where are you going?”

  She tossed a coy look over her shoulder. “I paid my debt, plus some. Now, I’m going to bed. ‘Night.”

  Night?

  But—

  But—

  His erection throbbed painfully.

  And he might have jerked one off if he hadn’t heard her screech, “Motherfucker!”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Entering the bedroom, her body still tingling, Kacy couldn’t help but notice the empty bed. The stuff by the sliding door untouched. And yet, the glass itself was open, and only the screened part remained closed.

  No signs of struggle, which probably meant that Darren had wandered off on his own. After being told not to go anywhere. Was it any wonder she yelled?

  Marcus almost slammed into her as he ran to answer her call.

  “Where’s Darren?” he asked, easily seeing over her.

  “I don’t know, but he’d better hope he’s dead because if he left this room of his own volition, I’m going to kill him.”

  Perhaps she should kill herself, too, for allowing herself to be distracted.

  Is that what we’re going to call my orgasm in the living room? A distraction?

  What was she thinking?

  The real problem? She wasn’t thinking, not clearly at least. She’d allowed her needs to interfere with the mission. Let herself be goaded into pleasure before duty.

  And now, she paid the price.

  I lost my fucking client.

  Grabbing her gun from the nightstand where Darren had left it, she emerged from the cabana onto the deck and, by the soft glow of a crescent moon,
immediately saw Darren down by the water.

  Alone.

  Tucking the gun away, she motioned Marcus back as she approached. But Marcus didn’t listen.

  He never listened.

  He took.

  Took advantage of her weakness for him and exploited it—giving her extreme pleasure.

  I should kill him.

  Right after she murdered her client for being a moron.

  “Do you have a death wish?” she hissed as she got close enough for Darren to hear her over the sounds of the waves lapping the beach.

  “I wanted to see the beach in the moonlight.”

  “How about wanting to see your eightieth birthday?” she snapped.

  “Give him a break,” Marcus rumbled at her back. “I think someone’s having a sentimental moment.”

  “Am not,” Darren retorted.

  “Really? Then tell me you weren’t thinking of Francesca and how you met her on that beach in France.”

  “Who’s Francesca?” Kacy could have sworn she’d heard the name before.

  “The woman he fell for who ditched his ass.”

  “I am not pining for Fran.”

  “I warned you what would happen if you started moping about her again.” Before Kacy could stop him, Marcus lunged at Darren and shoved him into the water.

  Her client came up sputtering. “I was not moping.”

  Kacy held out her arm before Marcus could trip him again. “I can’t let you hurt the client.”

  “Dunking doesn’t hurt. What you did, though…” Marcus glared, and she felt a twinge of remorse.

  Kacy had used him, let him pleasure her in an attempt to flush her attraction for him out of her system. He, on the other hand, got blue balls. Sucked to be him. Especially since she still tingled and felt great.

  “Are you going to whine about it?” she sassed, hand on her hip.

  “Nope. But I have no problem getting even.”

  She didn’t expect the hands that grabbed and tossed her, because what girl who’d just been pleasured would think that same man would dunk her in the warm waves of the ocean?

  She stood with a glare, hair streaming with water. “Why, you—”

  “Come and get me, little pint. If you can,” he taunted, fingers beckoning.