by Tess Summers
His beautiful assassin was a worthy adversary. He should’ve expected this.
Fuck, he was looking forward to the day he could punish her for it.
Chapter Two
Dante
It’d been a month since she’d disappeared again. This time, no one knew where she was.
No one.
No amount of money was going to help him find her. He was just going to have to be patient until she decided to resurface, or until she let her guard down.
Then an opportunity landed in his lap that was almost too good to be true. He wasn’t going to have to seek her out—Kennedy Jones was going to come to him.
“Javier has created a shitshow, again,” his uncle Ramon—the new patrón of the cartel—said with a sigh when Dante answered his call. “He’s kidnapped a pregnant American woman; some sort of retaliation.”
Dante shook his head as he processed what his uncle had just dropped in his lap. Javier was the fuckup son of his fuckup brother, Luis. Fortunately, Luis was aware of his shortcomings, and never made a power play. He was always content to be a bit player, which was why he was still alive and his offspring allowed to be a thorn in the family’s side.
“Why the fuck would he kidnap a pregnant woman?”
“It’s a long fucking story. You remember his wife, Adriana?”
“Yeah—but didn’t they split up?”
“Well, not exactly. She ran off to San Diego while they were separated, but Javi dragged her back here, then went right back to ignoring her. She got pregnant, though, and ran off again and managed to have the kid without him ever knowing. She went back to SD with the kid and bumped into her old boyfriend, who thinks the kid is his. Now the ex is trying to get custody, which is how Javi learned he even had a kid—Adriana called him for help.
“So Javi’s pissed off that some American is trying to claim his son as his own. Well, turns out the American has a pregnant girlfriend. So Javi goes to the US to get the kid and Adriana—and while he’s there he decides he’ll snatch the pregnant girlfriend too. He says it’s to, I quote, teach the American a lesson, but if you ask me he’s just being a macho pendejo. And to cap it off, the American just so happens to be a SWAT sergeant with SDPD, so needless to say the heat is on all of us. I want to beat his fucking ass for doing this to the organization right now, especially with things still being so unsettled. Like we need another goddamn target on our backs.”
“You didn’t sanction this abduction? Bring the woman here.”
“This isn’t your mess to clean up, Dante.”
“No, it’s not, but it affects the family, so I’m going to help get it straightened out.”
And lure Kennedy Jones back where she belongs in the process.
He needed to start getting things ready for his house guests. His cock moved at the thought of the preparations he was going to make for his CIA guest. Oh, the things he was going to do to his Bella.
****
Kennedy
She’d been following the story of the San Diego SWAT sergeant’s pregnant girlfriend with interest. The sergeant was a fellow Marine and the details reeked of a cartel abduction, so she wasn’t surprised when she got a text on her department-issued phone asking for help.
Cranston: Are you available for a consult? Intel suggests abducted pregnant woman and possible child being held at Dante Guzman’s. Williams and I currently at San Diego HQ.
Kennedy: I’m on the next flight out. Send me files of everything you have and call a meeting with all players—8 a.m. tomorrow, SDPD Main Station.
Cranston: Safe travels.
Was she really going to do this? Keni looked at the picture of a smiling Cassandra Sullivan in the online news article and decided, yes, yes she was. And what was the story about a possible child?
With a deep breath, she headed to her bedroom to pack. What does one wear to one’s possible execution?
Why, yoga pants, of course. Not only were they comfortable, but Dante always loved her ass in them. If she got caught, maybe he’d at least make her death painless if he was reminded of his attraction to her. Not to mention, they were appropriate attire for the cover story she was developing: She and Luke Rivas, the SWAT sergeant whose baby mama had been abducted, were going to be posing as tourists in Ensenada.
Her racing heart was because of the assignment, she told herself—it had nothing to do with going back to the estate that she had grown to love, or the idea of seeing Dante Guzman again. Nothing.
Chapter Three
Dante
He’d actually grown quite attached to his pregnant houseguest. Cassandra was beautiful, intelligent, and considering the circumstances, quite charming. He tried to make her stay as pleasant as the situation allowed, and he did know one thing—there was no fucking way he was allowing her and her baby to be separated and sold. He’d buy her himself if he had to, but hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.
Then came another phone call from his uncle.
“The boy isn’t Javi’s.”
Dante wasn’t surprised. Cassandra had laughed at him when he’d told her the reason his nephew had taken her in the first place. “All you have to do is look at Lucas to know he belongs to Luke. There’s no way he’s your nephew’s child.”
He’d immediately relayed that information to his uncle. Javier and Adriana had gone north to Anaheim to take Lucas to Disneyland and wait for things to settle down before they tried to cross the border into Mexico with him. Meanwhile, Ramon demanded a blood test before agreeing to help Javier any further.
“So now what?” Dante asked his uncle.
“Fuck, sobrino, I don’t know. Javier’s already had a fit—told Adriana he’s going to sell the kid to teach her a lesson too. I don’t know why he doesn’t just give the kid back—he’s already taken the woman. But he’s being pigheaded and spiteful.”
Damn it. Dante needed to think of something fast to buy some time.
“We might as well make a profit on all this. We’ll package him with the baby when she’s born—siblings bring a higher price. Then we get rid of all the problems at once, and make back some of what we’ve spent on Javi’s shitshow. I hope you’re planning on putting him on a tight leash after this clusterfuck.”
“Forget a leash, he’s going on a fucking shock collar after this stunt. I don’t like this shit one bit.”
Dante didn’t either. “Bring the boy here; he can stay with the woman until she has her baby. I’m sure she’d be happy to take care of him; she speaks very fondly of the kid. And if he’s in my custody, we can be sure Javi doesn’t pull any more stupid shit.
“Jesus Christ, your estate is going to be overrun. Do you have the personnel to handle that?”
“How difficult can it be to keep a pregnant woman and a three-year-old under control?” Dante said with a laugh.
“Well, if you need extra men, let me know.”
He didn’t need extra men; he wanted her rescue to be easy. It would be safer for everyone involved, including himself, if security was as lax as he could get away with without rousing too much suspicion.
Call him a narco with a soft spot for women and children. Well, most women. There was one woman in particular he had a hard spot for. And if she showed up to take Cassandra and Lucas—which he was counting on—she wasn’t leaving with them. Keni was a smart woman; she should know that.
No, if Kennedy Jones set foot on his estate, it meant she was ready to serve her penance. And Dante was more than happy to mete it out.
****
Kennedy
The six a.m. flight from Tucson to San Diego got her to the police station with just ten minutes to spare. She had dressed in a black dress and heels, making sure her hair was perfectly in place when she left for the airport early that morning and checking it again in the cab from San Diego International. She’d found it was usually best to appear feminine, almost sexy, when first meeting men she was going to work with. It disarmed them. Especially if they were expecting Keni to be Ke
nny.
She met with everyone involved with the case of Cassie Sullivan’s abduction, which now included Luke Rivas’s son, Lucas. Months earlier, the boy’s mother, Adriana, had shown up at Luke’s doorstep and introduced him to his three-year-old son—a son he’d never known about. He happily accepted the boy, and even allowed Adriana to live with him, as long as it meant Lucas was under his roof.
A few days ago, fearful that Luke and Cassie were going to try and get full custody, Adriana had disappeared with the boy and called Javier Guzman—still her legal husband—for help. She’d let him believe Lucas was his, thinking Javi would help her smuggle Lucas back into Mexico. That had blown up in the woman’s face when Javier’s uncle insisted on a DNA test. When Javier learned the results, he took Lucas from her in a rage, telling her he was putting the boy up for sale on the black market. In desperation, she had gone to Luke and told him everything she knew, which was how the CIA had learned that Cassie and Lucas were both being held at Dante’s estate, waiting for Cassie’s baby to be born.
Kennedy had read Luke’s file last night in bed. After meeting him in person, she felt confident in her initial decision—he was the right man to take with her to gather intelligence and do surveillance. If they needed to wait for reinforcements, they would, but if she saw an opportunity to get Cassie and Lucas out, they were taking it. The fewer people involved, the less chance there was for something to go wrong. And Luke seemed amenable to following her orders—something she found some men still had a problem with, even though her reputation was impeccable and she’d proven herself time and again.
Through her high-powered binoculars, she caught sight of Dante shortly after she and Luke arrived in Ensenada and set up surveillance on the estate’s perimeter. He was walking from the house to his chauffeured armored car and was as handsome as ever—his caramel-colored skin a sharp contrast to his crisp white shirt, which was open at the collar. He wore a tailored grey suit and his black hair was greyer now. A rush of emotions took hold of her—love, regret, guilt, fear.
After surveying Dante’s security, they made the decision to extract Cassie and Lucas that night. In the back of her mind, though, red flags were waving like crazy—this was too easy, which wasn’t like Dante. Kennedy was good, but she wasn’t that good. This should be a lot more difficult.
“Get Cassie and Lucas out of here, Luke. If anything happens to me, you do not come back for me. I can handle Dante.” She had reiterated that to him several times, and she said the same to Cassie when she slipped into her room that night.
Kennedy wasted no time with pleasantries once she’d roused Cassie from her slumber, instead launching in with instructions.
“On my signal, you’re going to follow me with Lucas down the back stairs, to the right, and through the kitchen. We’ll wait at the back door and watch for the guard. When he walks by, the count will be fifteen, then we’ll slip out the door and run toward the driveway. Luke will meet us at the second hedge and guide us the rest of the way. Do you think you’ll be able to carry Lucas and keep him quiet?”
Cassie was already adjusting the top sheet around her center, creating a makeshift sling as Keni spoke. Quickly fastening it around her waist, the pregnant woman simply replied, “Yes.”
Keni grabbed Cassie’s arm to get her attention and look her in the eye.
“Under no circumstances are you to stop for me should something happen. I can take care of myself; you focus on getting out of here safely with the boy. Understand?”
Cassie nodded her acknowledgment, and they got Lucas situated against Cassie’s chest without even waking him. Kennedy began to pick the lock of the door leading into the hall. The lock clicked without her assistance, and she scrambled back.
She had been right—this was a setup, and she had fallen right into it.
The door opened from the outside and Dante stood on the threshold, still dressed in his grey suit, although he’d lost the jacket. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing the TAG Heuer watch she had given him as a present. Well, the CIA had gotten it for her to give to him, to legitimize her role as an heiress. She knew his wearing it tonight wasn’t a coincidence.
“My little assassin, I knew you’d come,” he murmured with a smirk, stalking toward her while she backed away to the middle of the room.
Without warning, Kennedy threw a punch, which Dante easily blocked. Then he gripped her wrists and spun her around to pull her back hard into his front. She began to struggle, and Dante escalated his hold to a bear hug.
Without even a glance toward Cassie and Lucas, he casually ordered, “You better go, Cassandra. Luke is waiting for you.”
Seeing the woman hesitate, Kennedy barked, “Go, Cassie, now.” She continued struggling with Dante. The scent of his cologne filled her senses, the warmth of his body and even his hold on her so familiar it took everything she had to keep fighting him instead of surrendering to his touch. But she had to keep fighting; her life—and Luke’s, Cassie’s, and Lucas’—might very well depend on it.
“Bella, stop,” he hissed in her ear.
She stilled momentarily, mainly to rest and regain her strength before continuing her battle to stay alive.
“Dammit, Kennedy, I said stop!”
That made her freeze. She’d never heard him use her real name. She wondered how he had learned it—and how much of her true identity he knew.
“I like Kennedy so much better than Ruby. It suits you, Bella,” he growled against her neck below her ear. “You don’t know how many times I almost slipped and called you Kennedy as I fucked you into submission, but I’d catch myself. It made me so hard, my little slut, whispering your real name in my head while I gagged you with my cock.”
His hands cupped her breasts, and he yanked her roughly against his hard body. His whispered words sent electricity through her veins, and she knew her nipples were pebbling as he palmed her tits.
Slut had been one of the many pet names he’d had for Keni when he was dominating her in the bedroom. Whore and bitch were other favorites, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit it had turned her the fuck on. Being owned by Dante had always made her feel sexy. The realization that he was using those dirty names as consolation synonyms for her real name suddenly made her feel cheap. The power she’d thought she held had been nothing but a ruse orchestrated by the man she’d thought had loved her. The one she’d thought she was betraying—but it turned out he’d known all along who she was, and had played her like a fiddle.
He’d been the perfect boyfriend. Gorgeous, polite, caring, thoughtful, even easing her into the submission he desired from her. Kennedy thought about the hours she spent in his arms after they’d had dirty, rough sex. They would talk about everything: his childhood, her fake one—the one she wished she’d had; politics, religion, dreams for their future… It had been so hard, those times when he held her, to continue playing the role of Ruby Rhodes, the CIA-created persona that had been designed specifically to make Dante Guzman fall in love.
Ruby was sexy, sophisticated, and eager to please—all the things Dante desired in a woman, according to the government’s research. Things innocent but feisty Kennedy Jones, born and raised in Fargo, North Dakota, had to learn fast if she wanted to play the part.
She’d studied the file on him—memorized it. Dante Mateo Guzman. Born March twenty-fourth, forty years old. Educated at America’s most elite boarding schools under an alias. Undergrad at Boston College, MBA from Stanford. World traveler, fluent in Spanish, English, and French. Currently the moneyman for the Guzman cartel his uncle headed, charged with laundering dirty money and acquiring assets. Preference for petite redheads—which was where Kennedy came in. She’d thought her alter ego’s name Ruby was overkill, but hey, she wasn’t the profiler creating the identity.
It had surprised her how quickly she adapted to her role as a sexy heiress sent to Mexico to learn Spanish. Of course, she was already fluent—how else would she be able to do covert surveillance in plain sight? It was amazin
g how freely people spoke in front of you when they thought you couldn’t understand them.
Playing a spoiled rich girl had been kind of fun, particularly because she had grown up in a trailer park in Fargo, studying her ass off to get the hell out of there and make a better life for herself. One with a home that had actual insulation and didn’t require the use of the oven as a heater in the middle of January.
What had surprised her the most about her alter ego was how much she enjoyed being used by Dante in the bedroom. How wet she got when he ordered her to her knees and face-fucked her without mercy, relishing the feeling of his warm cum as it splashed across her face when he roared his climax. The contented feeling of being owned as he smeared his seed all over her cheeks with his cock before ordering her to lick him clean, and the eagerness with which she would attend to the task.
For the past six months she had craved him; she just hadn’t realized the extent until she felt his hardness against her again. The fact he was probably going to kill her was making her body’s current traitorous response to his touch most inconvenient.
“If you ever cared anything about me, Dante, you’ll kill me quickly.”
That seemed to surprise him, and he tightened his grip on her tits as he rubbed his jaw against her cheek.
“Kill you? Oh, no, my sweet Kennedy, I wouldn’t let you off that easy.”
Suddenly it felt like a bee had stung her neck, and her world grew dark as she fought to stay conscious.
Chapter Four
Dante
Kennedy was afraid he was going to kill her.
That pissed him off a little—although given her offense, her fear was probably warranted. Had it been anyone else, killing her would definitely have been a consideration. But it was her, and it was him. He was going to punish her, and he was going to enjoy it, but the chances of him seriously harming her, let alone murdering her, were nil.
However, he was certain his family felt differently. It was best if he hid her away for a while, at least until he figured out how he was going to convince them to let her live.