by Eve Langlais
A bright warmth blossomed in his chest. “Why, little pint, did you just ask me to move in with you?”
Her cheeks flamed. “Visit. I asked if you wanted to come visit my place.”
“And sleep in your bed?”
She nodded.
“Meet your mom?”
A moue twisted her lips. “Yes. But don’t be too excited about that. Chances are she’ll harass you about your intentions toward me.”
A slow grin tugged at his lips. “So I shouldn’t mention the fact that all my intentions are dirty and involve you naked?”
“Don’t you dare!” Her cheeks couldn’t get any pinker. Kacy, the woman who could take on assassins without batting an eye, blushing when he talked about sex.
So fucking awesome.
What he found incredibly more awesome was what she’d proposed. She wanted to spend more time with him.
She’s not ready for whatever is happening between us to end.
It made him ridiculously happy.
“Don’t think this invitation means—”
Whatever she meant to say got muffled by the crack of a gunshot.
Taking off, his bare feet digging into the sand, he bellowed, “Take care of Darren while I go see what’s happening.”
He smiled when she yelled, “Get back here. You’re still injured.”
Barely, but it was nice to know she cared.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The worst part about hearing a shot being fired was sitting around waiting and babysitting while a guy—a guy she cared entirely too much about and had actually invited to come and stay with her—ran off to check it out.
If Marcus had not reminded her to guard Darren, she would have gone with him. Actually, had she managed to trip him—throwing herself on his legs and felling him like a giant tree—she would have left Marcus to guard the client while she checked things out.
Instead, she found herself stuck inside, sitting in the bathroom, with Darren tucked in the shower where the tile provided added protection from possible bullets. The client grumbled about her overreacting and didn’t shut up until she loaned him her satellite phone, which he tapped on furiously.
The noise of it irritated, but at least it indicated that Darren lived.
Did Marcus?
She’d heard three more gunshots after the first one.
Three. More. Shots.
And she didn’t know who the gunfire targeted. Worse, she couldn’t help but wonder if her stupid meathead had thrown himself in front of someone else using himself as a shield.
He’d better not. She kind of liked to think he only did that for her. And maybe Darren since they were good friends.
Sitting cross-legged by the bathroom door, she kept her knife and gun on the floor on either side of her within easy reach. Her gaze remained trained on the screen since she’d kept the sliding glass portion open to the beach, the better to hear anyone approaching.
The pocket door separating the bedroom and living area was shut. She’d wound a necktie through the handles to keep it that way. If anyone tried to bust in, she’d have plenty of time to shoot them.
I hope someone tries. She really wanted to shoot someone.
As time passed, she became aware of the exterior commotion—more than seemed normal. The helicopter appeared to be in use, the sound of its whirring, rotating blades distinctive. She could also hear the growl of a boat engine. Even distant yells as people chatted with each other.
No more gunfire, though.
She also noted a lack of screaming, which she counted as a good sign. Just not good enough to let Darren out of the shower. However, she did relent enough to throw him some cushions for his soft butt.
Eventually, the outside fracas died off, much at the same time as the natural light did. The thick twilight passed into darkness, unalleviated by any moon or stars. She wouldn’t light a lamp, though. Let anyone outside think the cabana sat empty. She kept vigil and eschewed even speech with her bored client lest she miss a hint of sound.
Where is Marcus? The nagging worry irritated, especially since she didn’t often experience it. The only person she usually worried about was her mother.
When a shadow suddenly filled the doorway to the beach, she had her knife in her hand, poised to throw it when she heard Marcus sing, “Honey, I’m home.”
Just for that, he almost got the blade in his throat.
“That is the worst Jack Nicholson impression I’ve ever heard,” Darren announced from behind her.
As for Kacy, she couldn’t speak. For some reason, her throat felt tight. Warmth flooded her veins, the icy chill of worry fleeing with her relief.
Despite knowing that Darren would see—would notice her weakness—she couldn’t help but launch herself at Marcus, flying at him and knowing he’d catch her. She hit his solid body, relieved he appeared unharmed.
He hugged her tightly with one arm. “Nice to see you, too, little pint,” he murmured against her hair.
“I wasn’t worried,” she lied, embarrassed at her uncharacteristic display of affection. She untangled herself from him and would have moved away, utterly mortified by her actions—shoot me now—but he grabbed hold of her hand and kept holding it as he chose a chair to sit in. He tugged her onto his lap.
Given Marcus didn’t appear concerned about more danger, Kacy allowed Darren to move into the room. He kept to the outer edges, out of direct sight of the door.
Smart boy.
“What’s happening?” she asked. She thought about moving off Marcus’s lap, her spot was highly unprofessional, but any plans to hide what she felt for Marcus seemed stupid at this point. Darren knew they were involved. They even had his blessing, or so he’d said to her at one point when she’d gotten up for like the fiftieth time to look for signs of Marcus.
“He’ll come back,” Darren had said. “He now has a reason to.” The implication was clear.
“You heard the gunshots?” Marcus’s voice rumbled, dragging her back to the present.
“We did,” Kacy replied, leaning over to flick on a light. Time to get out of the dark.
“Anyone die?” Darren asked.
Marcus shook his head. “No, the bullet only grazed Manuelo.”
“The Brazilian fellow?” Darren’s tone held a musing note to it.
“We heard several shots,” Kacy pointed out.
“That was his bodyguard returning fire.”
“Did they get the shooter?”
“They did. One of the newer staff brought to deal with the extra guests. They think he was responsible for the shooting this morning, too.”
Working alone? Or did they have to worry about more of the staff being assassins in disguise? “I thought I heard the chopper taking off, and a boat.”
“Stefanov had Manuelo flown off the island with his girlfriend and security guard. The dude apparently wasn’t staying a minute longer.”
“That only explains the helicopter.”
“Because you’re impatient and didn’t give me a chance to finish,” teased Marcus. “Given this was the second incident today involving a newer staff member, Stefanov decided to not take any chances and fired everyone who’s been with him less than two years and sent them back to shore.”
“All of them?” The query emerged on a high note, and Darren looked surprised. “That must have been quite a few.”
“It was. He’s only got a skeleton staff left. A handful by the sounds of it, plus a few of his own security.”
But would the measure be enough? She didn’t imagine Stefanov had mentioned those who had invaded the island their first night here. Anyone with a boat, or even a parachute, could drop in. “While the gesture is nice, getting rid of most of the staff might not be enough. That’s two shootings that we know of now while in his care. We never even told him about the snake, and I have to wonder if others are having similar issues. With all that’s happened, I imagine, by morning, this place will be almost empty. Everyone will want a ride out of
here.”
She felt more than saw Marcus shrug. “Possibly. Although Manuelo was the only one demanding. Everyone else just kind of came out for a peek and then went away.”
“You think they’ll stay? But it’s not safe.”
“Even the most loyal can turn,” Darren said.
“Not me. Money doesn’t interest me.”
“But what if they threatened someone you cared about?”
Darren’s pointed look made her squirm. “If you’re implying we won’t do our job—”
Darren cut her off. “No, I have no doubt you both would die rather than betray me, but not everyone is so loyal.”
About time Darren recognized it. “In other words, we can’t be sure Stefanov’s rid himself of all his problem employees. Will we be leaving in the morning then?” she asked.
“Maybe.”
“What do you mean maybe? This trip was obviously some kind of setup.” Kacy thought about launching herself off Marcus’s lap to slap and shake some sense into Darren.
“I won’t deny that there’s some manipulation going on, but at the same time, the attempts thus far have been rather inept.”
“Bad aim isn’t incompetence. It’s luck,” she groused.
“I think what Darren is saying is if someone really wanted us dead, they would have done a better job by now.”
“Is the fact that the gunmen so far can’t shoot a reason to stay? Are we waiting for someone to actually die?”
“Aren’t you at all curious as to why we’re here?” Darren asked.
“No, because obviously you have an idea and you’re keeping it secret.”
“It’s academy—”
“Business,” she finished with a sigh. “Yeah, you said that before, but that only works so far as an excuse.”
“I don’t want to say anything yet until I gather more intelligence. What I will say, though, is we are under attack, and by we, I mean everyone associated with the academy.”
Brow furrowed, she queried, “And what does that have to do with Stefanov and the others?”
At first, she thought Darren wouldn’t reply, his lips clamped shut, but Marcus joined the conversation, not willing to let his boss and friend keep this secret.
“I might not be academy trained, but I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess that all these folks gathered here either run or work for academies of their own.”
At that leap of logic, her mouth rounded. “Is he right? Do they also run their own schools?”
Darren’s mouth pinched. “Yes. More or less. Some have schools. Others are a little more covert and specialized. But Marcus is right. In essence, we all train elite operatives.”
“Stefanov, too?”
At her query, Darren frowned. “I would assume so. Though he hasn’t confirmed it.”
“Why gather you all in one place? Is someone looking to take the schools down?”
“Yes, someone seems to be targeting us, but that’s not why we’re here. This meeting was supposed to be about collaboration and joining forces. We’ve had some incidences with academy operatives clashing with others on missions. We want to avoid that in the future.”
“A NATO for assassins.” She shook her head. “Unbelievable.”
“And top secret. These people wouldn’t be happy if they knew their secret was out. I’m not the only one who’s been threatened recently.”
“And that threat appears to have followed us here. I still think we should leave.”
“Not yet. Let’s see what the dawn brings,” Darren announced. “And speaking of dawn, I’d like to see at least one before we leave, which means, bedtime for me.”
But Kacy was too wound up to go to sleep yet, and Marcus sensed it.
“Come on. We’ll go into the other room so his majesty can get his beauty rest.”
As Marcus went to drag her, she pulled back. “But what if—”
“Don’t argue, little pint. It’s been a long night,” Marcus growled.
“Listen to Marcus,” Darren interjected. “If it makes you feel better, pull the drapes, throw down your noisy booby traps, and go. I’ll be fine.”
She might have protested more, except being in the same room as Darren wouldn’t stop a bullet, and she’d hear an intruder before they managed to get in.
Despite the smirks she knew the men wore, she did weave a layer of items across the door and windows. She also made Marcus check the bed inside the sheets and under for snakes.
Only once she was satisfied the room was secure did she untie the sash keeping the pocket doors closed to pull them apart and enter the other room. Marcus shut them most of the way, leaving them open only a sliver.
He then flopped onto the wicker couch, which creaked alarmingly, and she feared for its life when he yanked her down on top of him.
“We’re gonna break the couch,” she warned.
“I’m okay with that.”
“We should do a perimeter check.”
“I already did before I came in.”
“We should probably—”
Kiss. Or so Marcus thought, given his lips silenced hers. With her worry over him now turned into relief, it wasn’t hard to fall into the pleasure of embracing Marcus. She wasn’t used to worrying about a man. Her mother, yes. Even her aunt and her cousin.
But this fear that Marcus wouldn’t return to her… He’d come to mean so much to her, so fast. What would I have done if he’d actually died?
Gone on a killing spree—and cried.
Kacy hated crying, so it was a good thing he didn’t make her do it. She clutched his face and showed him how happy she felt that he’d returned without any new holes.
He reciprocated his happiness at seeing her with an erection that butted against her bottom. The evidence of his arousal was all it took to wet her panties.
How could she desire him again so soon? He’d pleasured her earlier that day, and the night before.
Yet, once again, her hunger for him knew no bounds.
Did it really matter how he managed to get her so aroused?
She should be more concerned about the fact that his hands roamed over her body and pushed up her skirt.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Hopefully, you,” was his reply.
Another guy would have gotten slapped for saying it. Marcus got a kiss, and yet when he fully shifted her so she faced him, straddling his thighs, she said, “We can’t go any further.”
“Why not?”
“Because Darren is in the other room,” she hissed. When she would have pulled away, he tightened his arms around her.
“So what if he is? He’s sleeping. I can already hear him snoring.”
So could she. Still, though… “What if we wake him up?”
“Then you’ll have to be quiet.”
“We shouldn’t let ourselves be distracted.” She tried to be a good girl.
“What’s distracting me is the thought of not sinking into you.”
Her breath caught. “We could be attacked at any minute.”
“Doubtful. Anyone watching will wait until they think we’re all asleep. So instead of wasting time talking…” He winked.
“We wouldn’t have time to get dressed, and I hate running after criminals while naked. It’s hard to get them to take you seriously.”
“That statement screams of a good story, which you’re going to tell me someday. But not now. And I might add, we don’t have to get naked to make this work.”
True, she did wear a loose skirt, and his pants had a zipper.
The snoring from the other room was constant. If it stopped, it would provide ample warning.
“I guess since there’s nothing else to do…”
“Brat,” he growled before taking her mouth in a fierce kiss. His hands tugged her skirt up her legs, and she lifted herself enough so that he could bunch it around her hips. It revealed the holsters strapped to each thigh, both once again filled with weapons.
He sucke
d in a breath. “Damn that’s sexy, little pint.”
Funny how that name used to bother her; yet now, coming out of his mouth with such reverence, it only served to melt her.
“You think I’m sexy wearing weapons?” Any other man would have dropped to his knees and begged for his life while blubbering. Really unattractive, she might add.
“You’re fucking sexy wearing anything. Or nothing. But the weapons…yeah, they add an extra element to it. I’ve never been with a woman who could handle herself like you.”
“You will never be with another woman like me.” Because Kacy was beginning to realize Marcus was the man for her. The guy her mother said would one day come into her life and sweep her off her feet. She just hadn’t expected a man who could literally pick her up one-handed and not strain while doing it.
“I’m okay with spending my life with you.”
The husky admission saw her kissing him. She clutched his face and devoured his mouth, fusing her lips to his, tasting him and squirming against his rigid cock, a cock held back by only a thin layer of fabric.
He moaned as she wiggled on him, rubbing her mound against him for friction. She nabbed his lower lip between her teeth, nibbled on it as his hands cupped her ass. The callused tips abraded her skin in a nice way, sensitizing her to his touch.
Made her crave more…
As Kacy kissed him, she savored his flavor, tasting the gum he’d recently chewed, the minty taste lingering. She skimmed the tips of her fingers through his hair, the strands longer than she’d expect from an ex-military guy.
Her hands stroked down his muscled arms and then skipped over to his torso to tug at his shirt, pulling it off him.
“What happened to keeping our clothes on?” he asked.
“I changed my mind. Let them be distracted by your body so I can shoot them,” she teased, admiring the hard strength of him.
She explored his physique, skimming her palms over his flesh, learning his shape, loving the feel of his hard ridges. She discovered what made him catch his breath, pinching his nipples; and what made him twitch, raking her nails down his abdomen. Kacy touched and explored as much as she could reach while his fingers dug into her ass cheeks and he ground her against him.