UntilMidnight

by Desiree Holt, Cerise DeLand

  She keened. “You’re killing me, sweetie.”

  “You’re thrilling me, baby.”

  She looked down to melt at the sight of his mouth wet with her and smiling at his work. His fingers busy inside her as he elbowed his way up to haul her up his thighs.

  Her pussy quivered in expectation. Her lips trembled. “Put that long red cock inside me or I’m gonna die here.”

  He slid right in.

  She could not breathe. He was so huge, so rigid, so bold.

  He snarled. Halted. Hung his head a minute, his nails digging into her ass cheeks. “You just get better and better.”

  “Yeah?” She meant to challenge him, but knew she just whimpered the word.

  “Yeah.”

  She squeezed his cock with her vaginal muscles. “Prove it to me.”

  He anchored his knees deeper into the bed and seized the flesh of her hips. “Coming up.”

  He pushed into her to the hilt. Worked his hips like pistons, filling her with the hot girth she knew now she was going to have a hard time forgetting. She wiggled nearer. Wanted him impossibly deeper, harder, stronger.

  He rammed her, creating a friction, a torment she treasured and then she broke like glass. Shattering, thousands of pieces of herself flung up high to cascade around her. Like a starburst, an explosion of a million tiny fragments of herself scattered everywhere. Flowing down around them both. Pulsing with him, she felt her cunt quake around him and then felt him throb with wild spurting releases of his own.

  She cried out. Her cunt throbbing. Full of him. Clinging to him. Needing him as she rejoiced at the tiny explosions that made her writhe and buck, mewl and catch him to her.

  He wrapped himself around her, his big, lean, hard body the force of nature that made her life suddenly real. Made danger a reality. Made her mind blank and then, as their bodies cooled and coiled together once more, made her realize that they were crazy to lie here and love each other.

  Some madman wanted her dead.

  And now, for protecting her, she was afraid the same man would want Adam dead, as well.

  She planted a kiss on Adam’s throat. “I have no words for what just happened here.”

  He arched back and smoothed her hair from her cheek. “So don’t try. I won’t. We’ll find words later. When you’re safe.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Come shower with me.”

  “Is that wise?” she asked with a mixture of sexual innuendo and fear for their lives.

  “For now. Quickly.” He put his hand out. “We need to go see the management about our man.” He led her gaze to his cock, which even lax and covered in latex was impressive enough to make her bite her lower lip. “And we have to visit the resort shop for certain supplies.” His mouth tipped up in a wicked grin. “Coming?”

  “I did. I will. I hope to often again.”

  He pulled her up against him, his sculpted body against hers and making her think of how soon they could find their way to a bed again. “Job one for me is saving your luscious ass so I can make this sweet pussy purr for me often.”

  Their shower was filled with laughter and far too many caresses that seduced and tempted. But they each stayed prudent, wise.

  “I can’t keep my hands off you,” he swore as they dried each other off and he kissed her nipples, one by one.

  With one leg curled up around his thighs, Nicki rubbed her pussy against him one last time and twirled away. He wasn’t going to like what she planned. “I’ve got to stop plastering myself to your skin! I’m getting addicted!”

  He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her waist to look at her reflection in the huge wall mirror. “A habit I don’t want you to break.”

  She stepped out of his arms and put both palms to the top of the dressing counter. “We have to talk about who we’re going to see. We have to do it now.”

  He inhaled, his eyes going dark with the danger they now had to address. Throwing the towels to over the rim of the whirlpool, he went to the sink and began to comb his hair. “The owner I know is not in residence.”

  “Neither is the one I know.” Scott Henderson is recuperating from an emergency appendectomy on his Caribbean island. I’ll bet at his age that surgery wasn’t a lot of fun. “So that means we find out if the other two are here.”

  “No. Neither one,” he shot back. “I know. I checked before I came.”

  She accepted that, as Mossad, Adam knew things other mortals—even she—would never think to ask before arriving. “But?”

  He gave her a small wink. “The assistant manager is here. In fact, I called him to make my reservation. I met him years ago. In Ramallah.”

  “A Mossad agent goes to the West Bank capital?”

  “Honey, we go anywhere we want.”

  She grimaced playfully. “I will never again doubt how true that is. So what is this manager doing here? In Mexico? At an ultra lux resort?”

  “He’s a Palestinian, true. But no radical. Not in politics, either. And when I met him?”

  She nodded. “Yes?”

  “He was squeaky clean. Educated. Harvard. Business degree. Class of ’01. From a prominent family of very rich Palestinians who are in real estate development. Christian, too. In fact, they originally came from Jerusalem and were forced from their homes in 1967 when our army marched in. They say their family had lived in the Old City so long that they were there to greet Jesus when he came for Passover.”

  “So you are telling me he is a friend of yours?”

  “No. I’m telling you I trust him to tell us the truth. Or as much of it as he can.”

  She considered that a moment and strode away into his bedroom to get her clothes. When Adam followed, he got dressed as quickly.

  “What are you cooking in that mind of yours?” he asked.

  “What’s the manager’s name?”

  “Muhammed Abbas.”

  “And why is he the assistant manager here? Any ideas?”

  “His family owns a minor share of the business and he’s in training to run one of their new facilities solo. They’re building a new one outside Santa Fe in the States.”

  “Good to know.” She headed for the hall. “See you later.”

  “Hey!”

  She heard him jog after her.

  “Wait a minute, lady!” He took her elbow and stopped her. “You are not going alone.”

  She looked Adam squarely in the eye. “I know I am.”

  “And why is that logical?” he challenged her.

  “You think this man is safe. Uninvolved in the attempt on my life. Innocent about blowing up my bungalow. But I want to see how he plays it out for me. I don’t want his explanation clouded by niceties to you about old acquaintances not being forgotten. I want to see the whites of his eyes when he talks to me. I want to read his body language.”

  Adam raised the palms of his hands in the air. “You’re right. And then there is the other factor—”

  “Yes.” She smiled, drew close to Adam and curled her fingers into the wonderful wet black hair at his nape. “If he’s involved and distressed I still walk the earth, then the fact that you are somewhere out there able to rescue me is a big plus.”

  “Great minds,” he whispered as he gave her a hot hard kiss, “think alike.”

  * * * * *

  Nicole never made it to the manager’s office, but saw the confusion of resort staff aiming fire extinguishers at the rubble of her bungalow. Among the shouting men and women stood one tall, olive-skinned man who shouted orders to his staff and into his cell phone.

  She picked her way across the debris to look up into the anxious face of Muhammed Abbas. A square-jawed, deeply attractive man with the blue eyes of the Mediterranean Sea, he spoke unaccented American English and Spanish with an ease that astonished her.

  “Señor Abbas,” she greeted him and put out her hand, “I am Nicole Welles.”

  “Miss Welles,” he said as he immediately closed out his conversation on his phone, “I wondered where you
were! Our staff did not know if you might be in your rooms!” He did look relieved as he examined her. “You are well. My god. So good to see you out here! Where were you?”

  “Out walking. I saw it happen from far down the beach.” She shaded her eyes with one hand in order to see him better. A handsome man. Utterly shaken. Good.

  “I am very sorry about this. I will, of course, make compensation to you for any items you have lost.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.” She tipped her chin toward the mess. “My personal items are replaceable. I’m concerned with who set this.”

  “Set it?” His winged brows shot upward. “I am at a loss—“

  “I’m not.” She let her she-wolf come out for a bite of him, always the best way to push a man into confusion “Are you used to having your facilities erupt in explosions?”

  “Explosions? No. Never!” He was defensive, but also inquisitive. “We take pride in our maintenance and our supervision of our grounds. You think this was an explosion?”

  “I know one when I see one.”

  “So do I,” he said softly, realizing he couldn’t con her. He eyed her with a new respect before he turned to examine the small fires scattered over the blackened earth where her little house once stood. “I never thought there could be any here.” His voice drifted off into the mist of his own private memories.

  The West Bank, she knew, could be a violent place as Israeli settlers and Palestinians fought for the same land with fists and guns and C4. “I understand. But other things have happened here to me.”

  He swiveled toward her, shock draining his features of reason. “What do you mean?”

  “May we adjourn to your office?”

  He scowled. “Certainly.” He took her elbow as he called over one of his male staff and gave instructions to call him when the fire trucks arrived. “My first priority is your safety and happiness.”

  Nicki gave a fleeting thought to persuading Muhammed to remain and to call for the police. But she wondered how effective the locals would be in forensics for explosives. This part of Mexico was one that had quite a few exotic resorts, but it was also listed on Interpol’s list of most dangerous criminally controlled areas. The relationship between the drug cartels, law enforcement agencies and government was close and rife with corruption. Someone local had executed this job. And quite a few someones had knowledge of it.

  If Calderon and the Campeche cartel were truly the ones after her here, Nicole had to learn how they had gotten inside this compound and who had helped them. Then she might be able to look beyond Calderon and Campeche to finger the linchpin who had given the order to destroy her.

  She hurried beside Muhammed as he led her toward the main building sequestered among the huge palm trees and pink bougainvillea. Inside the cool, dark stucco building, he showed her toward his office. Appointed in caramel-colored Saltillo tiles and pale daffodil walls, his ultra-modern glass, steel and leather furniture spoke of a man and a corporation devoted to the very best of everything.

  She took one of the chairs and sank into buttery comfort.

  “A drink?”

  “Ice water, thank you.”

  He strode to the wet bar and fixed her a tall glass filled with slivers of ice and bubbling water. When he returned to hand it to her, he sat down across from her and with deadly serious eyes, said, “Tell me what has happened to you here.”

  She recounted the incident on the beach in short sentences. Leaving out Adam’s role in any of it, she told him that she had killed the would-be assassin. She had dragged his body into the shrubbery. But she kept her words short, her descriptions brief, thinking this best until she could read the wind on Muhammed’s complicity.

  At each revelation, Muhammed stiffened, and at the end asked, “Why did you not come to me immediately?”

  “I am a security expert, Mr. Abbas. I know to investigate my own challenges. Naturally, I was concerned for my safety but interested in relying on myself first. You, second.”

  “I hear your rationale, Miss Welles. But still, I do not agree.”

  She waved a hand. “Your agreement is of no importance to me, Mr. Abbas. But what you know and who you know is.”

  His sea blue eyes narrowed on her. “You think someone here had a hand in this?”

  “I know they did. How else would this man get inside your very secure compound?”

  He pulled back. “I see your point. I will call my own security team to investigate.”

  “I must ask you not to do that. Not at the moment and perhaps not until after I have left the resort.”

  “Miss Welles. You are not responsible for this facility. I am. Therefore—”

  “Therefore, tell me what your relationship is with Felix Calderon and the Campeche cartel.”

  “What?” Offense written on his features, he sputtered. “Why do you ask about them?”

  “I must.” She waited for his answer, cool and unmoving. She could wait forever, if need be.

  “I have no relationship with men like that. They are vermin!”

  “Agreed. Still, I must hear you describe to me if you know Calderon personally and what you and your corporation do to ward off interference in this facility by his Campeche cartel.”

  He stared at her for a long minute. “I do not know Calderon personally. Have never met him or seen him.”

  “But?”

  He pursed his lips and shook his head, disgusted with what he had to say. “One of our owners pays fees to the local boss of the cartel.”

  She sat forward. “And for this fee, the cartel allows you to operate without fear of invasion or reprisal?”

  He nodded, his blue eyes blank. “I pay the fee each month.”

  “How? Where? To whom?”

  “In cash. In the flower stall in the Mercado. I leave it with the old blind woman who tends the stall.”

  “Does anyone on your staff accompany you?”

  “My driver.”

  “Anyone else? Ever?”

  “Once, my assistant.”

  “Their names?”

  “Rico Hernandez and Miranda Sanchez.”

  “Thank you. I suggest you talk to them after I am gone and see if they have any personal relationships with anyone in the Campeche organization.”

  “You do not wish to meet with them?” he asked, astonished.

  “Only if you cannot tell me one more thing.”

  “I will do my best. What is it?”

  “What is the name of the owner of the resort who authorizes the payment to Campeche?”

  Muhammed winced, reluctant to give out this delicate information.

  “Come, come, Mr. Abbas. All the owners will know what happened here sooner or later. You will have to tell them. Especially after I issue my complaint and send in my bill for compensation.”

  He inhaled. “Winston Haller.”

  Oh my god. She blinked, unable to believe the significance of the name. This man whom so many thought was a beacon of light to the world personified a dichotomy of opposites. Light to dark. Heaven to hell. Good to utterly evil. “Of Haller Enterprises?” She tried not to gasp in astonishment. Haller was one of the foremost philanthropists in the world. Fourth richest man in the States. And he had earned his billions during the nineties in his own computer electronics inventions that made communications easier, faster, less expensive. “Winston Haller?”

  “Yes. None other.”

  Chapter Five

  Nicki tried to keep her shock under control as she finished with Abbas, promising to furnish him with a list of her personal belongings that had been lost in the explosion. Certain items, however, like her personal arsenal and the little gadgets she always traveled with would never make it to that list. A list, by the way, she planned to mail to him as soon as she could get the hell out of this place.

  But in the meantime she needed someplace to hide herself and she needed to make plans.

  Winston Haller? A partner with the man who’d been her client? That was a
real shocker. Haller and Calderon. A devil’s mating if there ever was one. That meant that Calderon knew she was coming here—somehow, someway—and put his plan together. To destroy the “Yankee puta” who’d killed his brother. Never mind that his brother had been an integral part of kidnapping the hostage she’d just rescued. Or that the brother had been inches away from killing the hostage when Nicki shot him instead. This was blood vengeance and Nicki knew that was the worst kind.

  So he’d called up his good friend Winston Haller and blackmailed him into doing a “little favor” for him. Allowing a killer undetected on the premises of the very private resort. And god only knew who else, because the dead man hadn’t set the explosives charge.

  That meant that Adam’s contact was compromised, too. If one of the partners was tainted, they all were. She had to warn him.

  She’d barely made her way along the lushly planted walkway from the manager’s office when a hand reached out of a huge shrub and yanked her into the greenery.

  “What—”

  A warm male hand clamped over her mouth. She was gathering herself to react, wondering what her options were, when Adam’s voice whispered in her ear, “Just keep quiet. If I take my hand off your mouth can you do that?”

  She forcibly swallowed her anger and nodded her head once.

  Adam slid his fingers from her lips, trailing them briefly across her cheek before letting his hand come to rest on her shoulder.

  “What the hell—” she began in a furious whisper.

  “Liar.” His voice held just the edge of amusement. “You said you’d keep quiet.”

  Nicki took a long, deep breath, suppressing her bubbling rage and pressed her lips together.

  “Better.” Adam tugged her down to the ground with him, where the thickness of the shrubbery concealed them. “You have to know there’s another loose cannon walking around here and I was afraid he’d trailed you to Abbas’ office.”

  “The explosives.” She pressed her mouth close to his ear. “Our dead guy didn’t set them.”

  “Got it in one. I know you are the ruler of all things security but you can’t go running around here with a target still on your back. Come on.”