by Tawny Weber
“Can you finish the tour barefoot?”
“Believe me, it’ll be a pleasure.”
Spence gave her naked limbs a long, heated stare that had Mia leaning in for the kiss she knew would follow. But he didn’t lean closer. Instead, he slipped the shoes from her fingers, letting them dangle by the straps from one hand while gesturing for her to lead the way. Mia blinked in hurt shock.
“I’ll carry those and you can tell me about the launch of your fund-raising extravaganza. How’d everything go with the cocktail party? Why are you so stressed when it was clearly a huge success?”
His easy confidence in her abilities soothed Mia’s feelings.
“All things considered, it went well.”
“What went wrong?” At her frown, he shrugged. “You have that things-went-wrong crease between your brows.”
“Nothing went seriously wrong,” Mia claimed. Still, she rubbed her fingers over the furrow creasing her forehead, hoping it’d ease the stress evidenced there. “At least, nothing wrong on my end. The subs were great—everyone did a fabulous job. The guests enjoyed the food and drink, the entertainment and the music.”
“But?”
But Spence had been so scarce during the event that she’d only caught a handful of glances of him from afar. The launch of the biggest triumph of her career, and she’d spent more time obsessing over where her crush was than doing her job.
But she couldn’t say any of that. She’d only known the man a month. There was no way she was going to admit how much he meant to her.
“But there were a lot of glitches on the Alcosta side of things,” she said instead. “You’d think tonight would rank really high on the priority list, wouldn’t you? Considering the amount of money this fund-raiser is costing him, to say nothing of how important it is to solicit enough donations to pay for that hospital, I mean.”
“So, why did Alcosta leave early?” Spence asked, voicing the same thing she’d been wondering for half the night.
“How’d you know he left?”
“I monitored the coming and going of everyone tonight, remember?”
Mia tried to tamp down her irritated curiosity. Alcosta was her client and his business was his own. He’d hired Mia so he didn’t have to do all the work on this fund-raiser—including hosting duties—so what did it matter if he left them for her? After a few more seconds attempting lame excuses for the man’s lousy behavior, she gave up.
“You saw him leave—did he seem okay? You know, like was he sick, or did he seem upset?” He’d hit on her again, but had seemed to take her refusal in stride. He wouldn’t have left because of that, would he? Mia shoved her free hand through her hair as if that’d dislodge the tension pounding in her head.
“He didn’t say a word about leaving early to me. He just disappeared. I didn’t even know he was gone until after an eager donor and I searched the ballroom twice.”
Talk about looking ineffective. Her stomach ached as lingering humiliation warmed her cheeks. Hopefully her fast-talking charm had offset the impression that she didn’t know what she was doing.
“Alcosta was on the phone when he left. Judging by his body language and extensive cussing, he was pissed, but he looked healthy enough.” She felt rather than saw Spence’s shrug. “He did have your roommate with him.”
“Jessica?” Surprised, Mia stopped to stare at him in the moonlight. “Really? I was irritated that she was gone, too. But I figured she’d ditched the party to have makeup sex with her lover.”
“Not unless Alcosta is her lover.” When Spence arched one brow, Mia shook her head. “Why’d you think she’d run off for sex? And what was she using it to make up for?”
“I feel like I’m gossiping,” Mia realized, acknowledging the hint of shame in the back of her throat with a rough laugh. “Whispering salacious secrets and innuendos in the dark.”
“You, the coordinator of a multimillion-dollar fund-raising event, are giving me, the head of security for the same, a rundown on the evening. Every piece of information helps me to safeguard the rest of the events for the guests, for the charity and, most of all, for you.”
Awww. For her? Mia’s heart melted a little, as did the last of her reservations.
“About an hour into the party, Señor Alcosta was holding court with a lot of muckety-mucks, wowing them with stories about all the great things he’s done over the years. At that point, I estimated that we had about 15 percent more drop-in guests than we’d estimated.” She smiled when he gave her a congratulatory shoulder bump. “I wanted to make sure there were enough canapés, so I snuck back to the kitchen to talk to the caterer. That’s when I heard Jessica on her cell phone, having an ugly argument. Like a cussing-and-insults-and-raging-tears argument.”
Maybe it was the breeze—it was cooler here on the far side of the grounds, away from the house—but Mia swore she felt Spence stiffen.
“Did you overhear anything?”
“Just enough to figure she was fighting with her boyfriend. Accusations about not being there, saying he’d do things and he didn’t—that sort of thing.” Mia shrugged, not sure how that factored into security for the events.
“And Alcosta didn’t say anything to you before he bailed?”
“He didn’t say anything that gave me the impression that he was thinking about leaving, but I knew he was irked. With me, mostly,” she admitted with a grimace. Since mentioning the pass would only irritate Spence, she explained Alcosta’s other issue. “He wanted my uncle here for all of the events. Apparently, he talked his attendance up quite a bit and was even hoping for a private meeting or two. So he was pretty irked to find out that Uncle Luis won’t be here until tomorrow, at the soonest. I suppose he thinks I didn’t do enough to ensure my uncle would be here all weekend.”
God knows how much the man would pout if Uncle Luis canceled altogether.
“Hell of a night,” Spence murmured.
“It was, and mostly in a good way.” Surprised at how good she felt after dumping her stress and irritations all over Spence, Mia was finally able to flip the coin and focus on the upside. “Everything else in the evening went really well, from the response to the mariachi band to the gourmet-margarita bar, the guests seemed to have a great time. The party did so well that we’ve already raised half of the target funding.”
Her arm still tucked through Spence’s, Mia paused next to the statuary garden, an expanse of weathered and cracked stone lions and conquistadors, to do a barefooted, hip-wiggling happy dance.
“Half, baby,” she crowed when he laughed. “That’s millions of dollars. Added to that, we’re completely booked for the morning’s breakfast auction, we sold another forty tickets for tomorrow’s golf tournament, and I’ve already had to call for two more croupiers and another bank of slot machines for Monte Carlo night.”
“Damn.” He breathed in evident admiration. “If a lover’s tiff and the host bailing early are the worst things that happened, you should consider this a huge success.”
“I think I will,” Mia said with a laugh. Even as the idea of owning her success settled in, she shivered a little as the statues seemed to stare menacingly out at them in the dark. To avoid them, she took the next twist in the path, the one that led to a small, remote terrace.
“I’m proud of you,” Spence murmured, stopping on the path between two rose hedges to take both of her hands in his. The moon glowed behind him, throwing his face into shadows. “You saw what you wanted, and you went after it. And despite all the nay-saying claims that it’d either be impossible or it’d be a mess, you worked your ass off and made this fund-raiser a success. No matter what comes next, you did that. You are a success.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, reveling in the feeling of someone’s compete faith in her.
She waited, wanting him to kiss her. The memory of his lips on hers made her tingle with need
.
But he only watched her. Staring with an intensity gleaming in his eyes that made her twitchy. What did he see? What did he want?
Pulling her hands free, Mia ran a self-conscious hand through her hair and wondered if stress had worn away all of her makeup.
“Why don’t we finish our tour of the grounds, then see if the crew is finished,” she suggested, wanting the anonymity of darkness. At least until she figured out what he saw when he looked at her like that.
He continued to stare for a long moment and then nodded. With a gesture that she choose their direction, he waited to move at her signal.
Mia let out a long, satisfied breath, the last dregs of lingering tension fading from her shoulders as they strolled along the cobbled paths.
“Will you use this terrace for the last event?” he asked as they approached the small enclosed patio on the farthest side of the house. With its fountain and comfortable chair groupings, it’d be nice for a small gathering. But the remote location and lack of doors inside made Mia shake her head.
“No. We’ll keep the guests to the more easily accessible areas.”
And with that, everything seemed back on an even keel. They discussed traffic patterns, the variety of menu options planned throughout the weekend and personal tastes in music as they wandered their way back to the main patio. By the time they stepped onto the covered tiles, Mia was relaxed again.
“It’s nice out here,” she sighed, leaning against the railing for just a moment as she breathed the jasmine-scented air. Even with the fairy lights twinkling through the trees and over the trellises, the stars still shone, bright and gleaming. “I think if I’d been a guest tonight, this is where I’d have spent all my time.”
“Out here?” He shifted so he could once again stare at her with those soul-searching eyes. “What would you have done since most of the activity was inside?”
Music still played through the speakers, a delicate collision of flutes and drums. Mia reminded herself to shut down the sound system when they went inside. At least she’d turn it off out here. Maybe she’d let it play upstairs, since, as she usually did when she had a daybreak event, she was sleeping on-site.
And she hoped Spence was sleeping with her.
“I’d have danced. Want to try it now?” she asked, gesturing to the softly lit tiled area she’d cordoned off for dancing.
“The party is over, and you’re barefoot,” he pointed out.
Since barefoot meant she was that much closer to being naked with him, Mia was okay with that.
“It was a busy night, but I’m sorry I missed being held by you,” she said honestly. Then, because she desperately needed to confess at least some of what she was feeling, she drew in a bolstering breath and watched him through her lashes. “It was a triumphant night, but I missed being with you. I think it would have felt even better to experience all that success with you right there by my side.”
After a long moment, he held out his hand for hers. “Let’s make up for it.”
With the music washing over them, and the night air wrapping intimately around them, she went into his arms. Cheek resting against the hardness of his chest, everything suddenly felt right.
So, so right.
* * *
Spence woke slowly, the heaviness in his heart at war with the delight of his flesh. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know it was a couple of hours before dawn. He could feel the change in the air.
He wanted to grab this moment and hold it tightly. A memory he could take out later for comfort, for pleasure, for assurance that life could be filled with blessings.
The scent of gutted candles mingled with the spicy roses, both a distant pleasure compared to Mia’s perfume. He could smell it on him, just as he could feel her body, warm and lush, pressed against him.
Pure heaven.
He knew he shouldn’t be here.
Not with Mia. Not like this.
After finding the gun hidden in the flower bed, he’d spent hours searching bushes, nooks and crannies. But other than that initial weapon, the location was clean.
Who’d leave a loaded gun in a flower bed? Not only was it a dangerous and unprofessional move, it seemed desperate. But desperate and dangerous sometimes worked, he mused. Planting a gun meant not worrying about getting it past any security he might add at the last minute, past any security Penz would bring on board.
He’d done due diligence on all of the guest lists, and while there were plenty of wealthy names, he was sure that Penz was the potential target. Unfortunately, other than his gut, he had no proof.
Still, he’d notified the admiral, leaving a coded message since the damned man hadn’t been available.
Frustration had fueled the rest of his day, between waiting to hear back and trying to cover the location and the event, as well as protect Mia at the same time. Especially since his thoughts kept ricocheting between the memory of making love with her and her adamant statement about never getting involved with a military man.
About the fact that his feelings for her were intense and authentic and deep, and the truth that he was straight up lying to her about who he was, why he was there and what he was doing.
Reality and what he figured was best for Mia had won out over his own wants and needs. So he’d been determined to leave after the event. To go back to his hotel and grab some reality.
Instead, they’d ended up making love for hours.
Something about Mia simply short-circuited his good sense. When he was with her, he wanted to give her anything—everything—she wanted.
As if she’d reached into his thoughts and heard the offer, Mia stirred in his arms. One hand slid down his body in a tempting trail to snuggle between his thighs. Instantly aroused, he reciprocated with a groan.
As night drifted closer to day, he slid into the pleasure of Mia’s body. Mouths slid, tongues tangled. Limbs twisted between the sheets as the heat built in a slow, steady swirl of passion, until he slid into the hot welcome of her body.
Twining their fingers together, he pulled her arms over her head so her back arched and her breasts rose. Lifting her chin, Mia arched her back and met him, thrust for thrust.
Desire built, climbing, winding, tightening. Until it was all he was, all he saw. All he had.
He stared into the velvety depths of Mia’s eyes, watching them blur as her breath came faster, as her pulse raced and, finally, her body buckled beneath his. Watching her climax sent his own body flying, his orgasm rocking through him like an earthquake.
By the time Spence returned to earth, Mia had curled into him with a sleepy sigh. Wanting her to rest, he rubbed his palm in a soothing, sleepy rhythm over her back. He could feel her heartbeat slowing against his chest, her breath easing as she fell asleep.
This was good. Really damned good. He should probably try to figure out why, as amazing as it was to make love with Mia, somehow the holding her afterward made him feel just as good.
Actually, he probably shouldn’t think about it too hard, he realized. Since there was no chance of a future for him and Mia, the answer would pretty much suck.
Deep in contemplation of how bad it was going to suck, he heard his cell phone buzz. With the same care he’d use dismantling an IED, he unwrapped himself from Mia’s arms and reached over to snag his pants from the floor and retrieve his phone.
He glanced at the display.
Damn.
The bed of the woman he was protecting without her knowledge was hardly the place to receive intel, so Spence rolled off the mattress with nary a ripple. He waited until he was on the patio before toggling his phone to talk.
“Lloyd,” he answered in lieu of a greeting.
“Yo, Improv. It’s me, Smidge.”
“What’ve you got?”
“How about the fact that once upon a time, Santiago Alcosta had a stepb
rother? ‘Step’ went with the mom when the dad moved on to his fifth wife, but rumor is the brothers stayed in touch. Right up to the time that Step went boom in a military operation led by a certain US Army Captain to close down his hobby of trafficking pretty little girls over the border.”
“Revenge,” Spence realized quietly, all the pieces falling into place. “It’s not blackmail—it’s revenge for killing Alcosta’s stepbrother.”
“That’d be my take. According to the Army, the op was legit. Nothing hinky, nothing untoward. They didn’t advertise that Penz led the op, but it’s right there in the files. Anyone with a skills could pull it up.” Smidge’s tone changed from is usual jovial reporting to worry as he added, “Improv, this is serious. You okay to handle it on your own?”
Training, experience and, yeah, pure, cocky confidence had an affirmative teetering on the tip of his tongue. Then Spence glanced through the French doors, the filmy curtains casting his view of Mia in a dreamy haze.
He couldn’t risk her safety on confidence alone.
“Did you check the other names I sent you last night? Alcosta’s team?” he asked instead.
“I’ve worked straight through for three damned nights, sifting through a mountain of tiny hints of information—most of it in a foreign language—with a tweezer and a flashlight. I pieced it together one freaking word at a time to get you this intel. And instead of thanking me, you ask if I got more?”
Smidge’s cussing washed over him. Spence waited until it ran dry.
“Get me those reports when you can,” he said. “And thanks.”
Hanging up, Spence absently shrugged into his shirt but didn’t bother to button it against the morning chill. He stared out over the lush grounds surrounding the villa. After a moment’s consideration, he placed a call. He punched in a series of numbers, then hung up.
Two minutes later, his phone rang again.
“Sir,” he said by way of greeting. “News has come to my attention and I believe the situation is escalating. Permission to adjust protocols.”
“Report.”