UntilMidnight
Page 1
Until Midnight
Desiree Holt & Cerise DeLand
Book 2 in the Nemesis series.
She’s a strong woman who runs her own high-profile security and protection agency. He’s a burned-out agent with Mossad, on a personal crusade. But when Adam Molloy saves Nicole Welles’ life at a Mexican resort, circumstances bind them together. Not to mention an instant chemistry so hot it rivals the Mexican sun. One predatory kiss and Nicki’s body melts. They may be after drug dealers and killers, but there’s plenty of time for powerful orgasms and inventive erotic activities.
It’s soon evident that her would-be killer and Adam’s crusade intersect. The chase takes them from the Yucatan Peninsula to Washington, D.C., to a private island in the Bahamas. And the sex takes them to a new level of physical pleasure. As they scramble to escape danger and catch the killers before they strike again, the couple is determined to also make their pleasure last until midnight and beyond—and many midnights thereafter.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Until Midnight
ISBN 9781419932441
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Until Midnight Copyright © 2011 Desiree Holt & Cerise DeLand
Edited by Helen Woodall
Cover art by Syneca
Electronic book publication February 2011
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Until Midnight
Desiree Holt & Cerise DeLand
Dedication
To the men in our lives, past and present, who inspire mystery, desire and love.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Beretta: Fabbrica D’Armi P. Beretta S.P.A.
Glock: Glock, Inc.
Humvee: AM General Corporation
Interpol: International Criminal Police Organization Interpol Association
Israeli Desert Eagle: Magnum Research, Inc.
Johnnie Walker: Diageo US VI
Keds: SR Holdings Inc.
LaRue: LaRue Tactical Co.
Lear: Learjet Inc.
NSA: National Security Agency
PayPal: PayPal, Inc.
Ray-Ban: Luxottica Group S.P.A.
Spode: Porcelain and Fine China Companies Limited
Willard InterContinental Hotel: InterContinental Resorts and Hotels Inc.
World Bank: The World Bank Group
Chapter One
Nicole Welles drew in a deep breath, inhaling the salt-scented air and listening to the rhythmic lap of ocean waves against the sand. She consciously forced every muscle in her body to relax.
The last two weeks had been a bitch. Financially rewarding but no less than a trip to hell deserved. Nemesis had been contracted by Macmillan Global to retrieve their boss who had been kidnapped by one of the largest drug cartels and held for ransom. Since this particular cartel was known for returning their hostages more dead than alive, Macmillan wanted the boss out right now.
They’d done it. She’d led the team herself. There had been some bloodshed but fortunately not on their side. Now she was trying to decompress in a bungalow at a very private, very exclusive resort on the beach in tiny Costalegre near Puerto Vallarta.
She was thinking about heading back to the villa for a shower and turned over to fish her watch out of her beachbag when a heavy thunk! sounded behind her. Instinctively her brain registered what it was and she rolled off the lounge onto the sand, grabbing for her beachbag where her 9mm was stashed. When she lifted her eyes to see what was happening they were met by a pair of very tanned legs dusted with dark hair.
“I have a gun,” she said, pointing it upward.
“So do I.” The voice was deep and almost gravelly. “Fucking lot of good yours would do you if I planned to kill you. You’d already be toast.”
Keeping a two-handed grip on the gun, she rolled lithely to her knees and then to her feet. Inches away from her stood what she could only think of as a man who was menacingly sexy. And tall. Much taller than she was, which was a trick since she was five ten. Shaggy black hair framed a face defined by deep grooves in the cheeks, a square jaw and startling blue eyes beneath heavy brows and thick lashes.
Dressed in a loose shirt and shorts, every bit of his muscular body she could see was deeply tanned. And the gun he was holding was even bigger than hers. An Israeli Desert Eagle, one she was very familiar with.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
“The man who just saved your life.” His voice was deep and hoarse as if he’d been shouting for a long time. “Who are you?”
“What do you mean, saved my life?”
He looked up and down the private stretch of beach, empty except for the two of them. As far as Nicki knew, only three of the resort’s bungalows were occupied at the moment.
“Put away your gun and I’ll show you.”
Put away the gun? She stared at him for a long moment, something weird sizzling between them, then lowered the 9mm to her side.
“That’s as put away as it’s going to get until I know what’s going on around here.”
“Come on.”
He, too, lowered his gun and closed steel fingers around her wrist, tugging her toward the thick groves of palm and coconut trees bordering the beach. Carefully pulling back a prickly bougainvillea he pointed at a body shoved against the roots of the shrub.
Nicki stared. “Who’s that?”
“Since it’s you he was trying to kill, I thought perhaps that was a question you could answer.” His voice had a faint accent to it, one that Nicki was having trouble placing.
She crouched down to get a better look at the body. Dressed in faded jeans and a dark t-shirt, he had the definite darker skin and features of a Hispanic.
“I’d say Mexican at first glance.” She noted the bullet hole in the back of his head and looked up at the man standing next to her. “Your work?”
He nodded. “I was walking down to the beach and saw him lining up to blow your brains out.”
“Look at him. What’s he doing here?” Nicki peered through the dense foliage that crowded the crushed shell pathways. “This place only has eight bungalows and the owners are very particular who occupies them.”
The man made a sound suspiciously like a grunt. “Tell me about it. And they’ve got enough guards here to protect a third world country.”
She nodded. “People like him can’t just walk onto the grounds and wander around at will.”
“So.”
She stood up, still holding her gun
by her side. “Yes, so.” Shifting her gun to her left hand she extended her right one. “Since you saved my life I guess I should introduce myself. Nicole Welles.”
His grip was firm and warm, but Nicki wasn’t prepared for the little currents of electricity that raced through her body when their skin made contact. She schooled herself to retrieve her hand smoothly rather than yank it away, her first reaction.
“Adam Molloy.”
They stared at each other.
“Well, then.” She looked down at the body again. “We need to do something about the trash here.”
“I don’t think we want to take him up to the main building and call the police. Someone sent him. He didn’t conjure this up all by himself. Let’s stash him somewhere and let his bosses wonder what happened to him.”
She looked at him with a speculative gaze. “Interesting solution. Are you someone I should be afraid of?”
He smiled, white even teeth flashing against his dark skin and one dimple winking at the corner of his mouth. “Hey, I’m the guy who saved your life, remember?”
“Yeah, but you could have done that to get close to me.” She took a cautious step backward.
“If I wanted you dead, Miss Welles, you’d already be lying here next to this idiot.”
She realized suddenly that she was wearing the tiniest bikini she’d been able to find and Adam Molloy was letting his eyes take a slow journey over her body. She turned slightly so he couldn’t see the instant puckering of her barely covered nipples. Well, wasn’t this a fine mess. She had no idea who this man really was, who the man was who’d tried to kill her, and her body, all on its own, was thinking about sex.
“Let’s clean the place up.” Molloy’s deep voice cut into her thoughts. He shoved his gun into the waistband of his shorts at the small of his back and lifted the body as if it weighed nothing, hard muscles flexing beneath the tanned skin. “Why don’t you gather your belongings from the beach while I handle this…situation. I’ll be back in a minute.”
He strode away without waiting for an acknowledgment from her.
Nicki stared after his figure as it disappeared onto the trees. What an arrogant ass. And who exactly was Adam Molloy that he was staying in this very private place? Besides a walking sex machine, that is.
Nicole! Snap out of it. Find out what the hell is going on.
She stomped back to where her things still lay next to the lounge she’d been using. Picking up the sarong that matched her bathing suit, she wrapped it around herself and knotted it under one arm. She stowed her gun in her beachbag, drew the drawstring tight and slung it over her shoulder. She was halfway back to her bungalow when tall, dark and mysterious Adam Molloy materialized seemingly out of nowhere.
She stopped in the middle of the path. “Finished already? What did you do, feed him to the fish?”
There was that smile again, making her knees suddenly week and the pulse deep in her womb thump out its rhythm. Holy shit! Nicole Welles never reacted this way. Not to any man. Oh, she was far from a stranger to sex but it was always carefully planned and on her terms. She never allowed herself to react this way.
It must be the situation. It’s not every day someone tries to assassinate me.
“In a matter of speaking. I’ll tell you all the gory details if you buy me a drink.”
“I don’t think I’m much in the mood for the bar. And I’d like to try to find out who that idiot with the gun is. Was.”
He took her arm and urged her along. Her feet moved as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Me, neither. But I’ll bet your bungalow has a fully stocked bar. I know mine does.”
She stopped, pulling against his hold. “We’re not going to your bungalow.”
“No. We’re going to yours.” He tugged her forward again. “Don’t you want to figure out who that guy is and how he got here?”
“I don’t think the answers are at my place.”
“Right. That’s where we’re going to talk about this and dig for answers. Come on.”
She found herself at the door to her bungalow, wondering how he even knew which one was hers. Oh, right. With so few people on the grounds he’d probably scoped out all the guests as soon as he checked in. And when exactly had that been?
“Aren’t you going to open the door?” He had just a touch of amusement in his voice. “It’s not polite to keep people standing outside. Not to mention possibly dangerous.”
Nicki pulled out her key card, shoved it into the slot and pushed the handle down. The artificially cooled air hit her warm skin with a frigid blast. She hurried to adjust the thermostat and threw her bag on a table, then moved behind the built-in bar.
“All right. I suppose I do owe you a drink. And I do want some answers. What’s your pleasure?”
His mouth curved in a wicked smile. “If I said ‘you’, would I be overstepping my bounds?”
“Without a doubt.” She deliberately made her tone aloof. “What do you drink, Mr. Molloy?”
“Adam. Please. And I’ll have bourbon on the rocks.”
She fixed his drink and poured a glass of white wine for herself. When she handed him his bourbon his fingers touched hers and the same electric sparks shot through her again. What in god’s name was going on here?
He was sitting in one of the armchairs so she hitched herself onto one of the stools at the bar.
“All right,” he said, after he’d taken a sip of his drink. “I have two questions for you.”
“And I’ll answer them because?”
“You need my help whether you want to admit it or not. You’re here by yourself with some unknown killer after you.”
“And you can save me.”
“I already did.” He raised his glass to her and took another drink.
“All right.” The fact that he had that gun, a great aim and a sense of order about what to do with the body of her would-be hit man told her that Adam Molloy was no ordinary guy on vacation. With her brain whirling about who might have ordered her murder, she needed to sort this out. What better way than with someone logical, intelligent and talented with a Desert Eagle. “Let’s hear your questions.”
“Who are you really and why did someone send a hired gun here to take you out?”
She looked down at her wine, away from his mesmerizing blue eyes. “I told you who I am. Nicole Welles.”
“That’s a name. What do you do for a living? And why are you here?”
Nicki sighed. She supposed she really didn’t have much choice. The narrow escape had shaken her more than she let on, and Molloy was right that she was here alone. In the time it would take her to call her agency and get help someone else could show up to try again.
“I own a…security agency of sorts in San Antonio. Nemesis. We do…odd jobs.”
“Odd jobs? Sounds intriguing. How odd?” When she paused, he added, “Come on. Don’t stop now. I can always find out for myself but that would be so much work.”
“We provide security for high-profile individuals,” she told him. “We also do contract work for the government and sometimes…hostage retrieval. Things like that.”
“Ah.” He leaned back in his chair. “A woman after my own heart. So we can safely assume that our mystery man was here on orders from someone you pissed off in your…line of work.”
She nodded. It seemed the most logical thing. “But how did he get in here? This place has more security that the president.”
“That, Miss Welles, is a question we’re going to find the answer to. But we’ll have to do it very quietly. We don’t know if there’s someone else lurking around.”
She studied him carefully, his posture casual but his body on obvious alert. “And exactly why would you involve yourself in my problems?”
“Let’s say I’m curious. I want to know who and how. And you might say I’m between jobs so I’m at loose ends.”
“Between jobs,” she said slowly. “Exactly what does that mean?”
“Let’s see.” She tilted her head. “Dark tan so you’ve been in a hot weather climate. Longish hair so not military. Silent enough that I didn’t hear you approach and that’s a difficult thing, believe me. And one more tiny thing.” She craned her neck to indicate the gun he carried in the waistband of his shorts. ”You carry an Israeli Desert Eagle. Would I be off the mark if I said Mossad? Known in full as the Israeli Institute for Intelligence and Special Operations.”
He nodded agreement. “You’re sharp. But then if you’re in the business I’d expect you to be.”
“And what’s a Mossad agent doing here in Costalegre, Mexico? Surely you don’t have any covert ops or paramilitary operations going on here.” Or do you?
“No, I don’t.” He set his glass down very carefully on the little table next to him. “I just finished a very tough, nasty job that we couldn’t resolve. I’m, shall we say, weighing my options.”
Nicki raised an eyebrow. “Thinking of getting out of the business?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. If I had something else to do. Maybe not, though. That’s about all I know. But we’re not here to talk about me. We’re here to find out who wants to kill you and how they got onto this property without being stopped.”
“I just finished an operation myself, but I can’t think that the people we went up against would waste their time chasing after me. They have bigger fish to fry.”
“Maybe. But you never know.” He unfolded himself from the chair and was beside her before she even realized he was moving. “We’ll get to it…after.”
She looked up at him. “After? After what?”
His hands slid up her arms to her face and cup her cheeks. “After I fuck you.”
And his mouth came down on hers.
Chapter Two