Del Roca never stayed in one place long enough to be caught. He either killed or replaced his henchmen with predictable ferocity. His tentacles reached into every corner of the globe, which was why the mobster had proved to be their most effective enemy. “I’m speeding things up here,” he informed Alexei.
“I didn’t think you’d wait for us,” Alexei agreed. “But you should—”
Diego cut the line. His timing couldn’t have been better. All hell broke loose as he came around the back of the barn. The charges he’d set went off. Goons barrelled out of the building, shooting wildly, while a small black helicopter that had been buzzing overhead, turned tail and flew away. That was one less thing to worry about. Then a female voice raised in anger seared his brain. Ducking low, he ran in the direction of the commotion. It was a relief to hear Celina not only alive but cursing fluently. She had quite a vocabulary. Slamming into the side of the barn, he shot a quick look around the corner. An old woman had run out of a side door, and Celina, who had squeezed her top half out of a small window, was directing a flurry of punches at her as she tried to drag Celina to the ground.
Prioritize ripped through his brain. Evaluating the available cover and the firepower of the thugs, he decided that whatever the odds against him, Celina was his priority every time.
He had to admire her. She did half the job for him. Landing a blow on the old woman’s head, she knocked her to the ground. Grabbing hold of Celina, he dragged her the rest of the way out of the window. As he shoved her behind him, he took out two of the gang, then turned, picked her up, threw her over his shoulder, and ran for cover.
“Put me down,” she yelled, pummeling his back.
Not a chance. He kept on running and didn’t stop until they were deep in the forest, where he could finally set Celina down on her feet.
“No shoes,” she wailed, hopping after him as he turned to get his bearings.
“Sit,” he commanded. Diving into his medical pack, he brought out two bandages, one for each foot. It wasn’t ideal, but it was all he had.
Protecting her feet took up valuable time. Hearing the thugs closing in, he shielded her with his body “Stay behind me,” he instructed harshly as he backed deeper into the undergrowth, weapon raised.
“Even when I shoot my gun?”
He blinked as she took out two gunmen. “Where did you learn to shoot like that?”
“In woods like these, just a few miles down the road. When food got scarce in the orphanage, I used to go hunting with the village doctor. He taught me to ride too, and he was a great shot, as good at shooting bullets as he was at taking them out. He insisted I learned how to handle a gun. He believed in dangerous times, we should all know how to defend ourselves.”
“He sounds like a great man.”
“He was,” she said quietly.
“And you’re quite a marksman,” Diego approved as he grabbed her arm and urged her on through the undergrowth.
“It’s surprising what you can do with hunger as your spur,” she agreed.
“And in memory of a good man,” Diego added.
“I think you’re right,” she admitted sadly as they pushed on. “I think he must be dead. The thugs have been using his house, and they’ve wrecked it. He would never allow that. He would have fought to his last breath. And Marissa’s dead too. I heard the gang talking about it.”
“Was she your friend?”
“Yes.”
Tense with grief, she turned away. But not for long. She soon turned back to him and, firming her jaw, she explained, “We grew up together in the orphanage, then Marissa was my teaching assistant at school. She was supposed to follow in my footsteps and go to university. She had her whole life ahead of her until those bastards took it away.
“Was Marissa why you came back?”
“I had to do something to destroy the gang.”
“You did,” he said quietly. “You set everything in motion, and now their fate is sealed.” Yanking her behind a tree, he put a finger to his lips, and they remained motionless until he signaled that the danger had passed. “They’ve turned back. They must have heard there was a crack shot on the loose.” Celina relaxed as humor glinted in his eyes. “Where did you get the gun, by the way?”
“The gang boss got careless, and so did his elderly assistant.” She shrugged. “I took advantage.”
“You certainly did,” he agreed dryly.
He drank her in. Even now, she looked great with her mussed-up hair and her tight Spandex dress rolled up high, and that gleam of determination in her eyes. Made for sashaying and posing rather than running for her life, the showy dress had been short to begin with, but now it was little more than a bandage. He was furious with her for putting herself at risk like this, and so proud at the same time that it hurt. Yanking her close, he gave her a short hot kiss. Dios! He’d missed her. A desperate need filled him to protect Celina and keep her safe, and to punish those who would have hurt her. That still had to be done. He wouldn’t hold back when he got his hands on the scum, but for now, his hands were full of Celina, and that felt right.
“You okay if I help you shoot our way out of this?” she asked as they moved off again.
He laughed as he dragged her close for one last fierce kiss. “I thought you’d never ask.”
~~o0o~~
The team of vigilantes commanded by the four members of the Blood and Thunder team had rounded up the surviving slavers. Having handed them over to Interpol, with whom they worked closely, they were able to congratulate Celina for all she’d done. Thanks to her, they had uncovered a huge network of subscribers to what had turned out to be the gang’s frighteningly regular auctions.
Engaging autopilot on his private jet, in which he was flying Celina back to Spain, he turned to face her. This was the first chance they’d had to talk in private. Celina had insisted on joining him on the flight deck after taking advantage of the comforts of the cabin, where she’d showered and put on a spare set of his sweats. They drowned her, but she still looked great. She hadn’t lingered for long in his luxurious private quarters. She still couldn’t quite believe she was safe, he guessed, and needed company, his company.
“We lost Del Roca,” she commented, staring at him with concern.
He shrugged. “These things happen. I’m relieved you didn’t meet him.
You’re braver than you know, braver than it’s safe for you to be. I don’t want you to risk your life again.”
“I couldn’t think of another way to infiltrate the gang. I knew you wouldn’t let me go if I told you what I planned to do.”
“Too right I wouldn’t,” he agreed. “Next time, trust me. Talk to me.”
“Next time?” She huffed a rueful laugh. “I still wouldn’t tell you. You’d have had me in chains faster than the slavers.”
“Don’t ever compare me to them,” he said quietly.
She held his gaze and then said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t even joke about it.”
“I’m the one who should apologize. Humor’s what saves us from becoming brutes like those men. It shows we’re human, shows we care. If we can laugh, the next stage is to move on. You’ve done nothing wrong.” After activating autopilot, he raised her hands to his lips and kissed them.
“You’re making me cry,” she protested when he released her. Knuckling her eyes, she pulled a rueful face.
“You’re tired.”
“Exhausted,” she admitted with a sigh as she rested back in the seat and closed her eyes.
“Go to my private quarters and lie down. I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed.”
Pressing her lips together, she shook her head. “I won’t be able to sleep. I’d rather be here with you.”
“I’ll come with you. I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep. I’ll call the copilot now—”
“No. I’m fine.” She touched his hand. “Don’t make a drama of it.”
She was frightened of sleep, frightened of the nightmares she might have, and no wonder.
What Celina had been part of was sick beyond belief. Some of the viewers at the auction in which she’d been on sale paid a regular subscription to watch the proceedings just for the hell of it, while others were serious buyers. All the women were helpless, vulnerable victims who would probably never be heard of again. It meant a lot to Celina to pass on what she’d learned, and Interpol had been more than grateful for a clean-up that hadn’t taken a huge bite out of its budget.
“You don’t mind if I stay here on the flight deck with you, do you?” she asked.
He looked into eyes that were wide and vulnerable and shadowed with sights he’d been spared. “Not at all. You do what’s right for you.”
She smiled, and for a while they were content in each other’s company. They’d made it out. They were together. Anything else was a bonus.
“I can’t stop thinking about my friend being killed.”
Her voice was small, and knowing this was a crucial moment for Celina, maybe even the first small step in the healing process, he called his copilot, and then gave her all his attention.
“They laughed about it,” she said frowning. “They talked about Marissa as if she was an empty carton they’d tossed in the trash.”
“We won’t stop until every gang member is rounded up,” he promised. “We won’t leave this here. The team has a hundred percent success rate, simply because we never give up. Your friend won’t be forgotten, nor will all the other women the gang abused. We won’t stop until Del Roca and every single vicious thug working for him has been dealt with.” He leveled a stared into her eyes. “Trust me on this.”
“I do trust you,” she said. “There’s no need,” she insisted when he started to undo her harness. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re exhausted. You’ve been through a terrible ordeal. You could have been killed like your friend.”
“So could you,” she pointed out.
He shrugged. “It’s my job. It’s what I do.”
She firmed her jaw. “Then let it be my job too.”
“When you’re over this,” he agreed. “If you go back now, when you’re angry and grief-stricken, emotion will take over, and that could kill you.”
“I will go back and finish this,” she said stubbornly.
“Of course you will,” he soothed. “But for now, accept you’re in no state to help anyone, least of all yourself, so please, let me take over.”
She gave a small, sad smile. “You’re good at that,” she conceded.
“That I am,” he agreed.
His copilot’s timing was perfect. “Let’s go somewhere else to talk,” he suggested to Celina when the knock came on the door.
The switch of personnel was made smoothly. “Straight to bed,” he advised once he’d closed the cockpit door behind them. He escorted her to his private quarters at the rear of the jet.
~~o0o~~
She was soul weary and desperate to feel Diego’s arms around her. She needed to know he was safe, and she wanted him to know how much she appreciated him risking his life to save her. And for what? Marissa was dead. But so many other women would be saved. She had to cling to that thought, just as she had to cling to the fact that she’d come close to joining the ranks of the disappeared herself, and that she might have, if Diego hadn’t saved her.
His private suite on board the jet was such a contrast to the stinking barn where she’d been held captive that, for a moment, her head reeled. Her life recently seemed to comprise a series of stark contrasts, and while the cockpit had been full of distractions, this was a haven of calm. From the crisp white linen to the artwork on the walls and the thick layer of carpet beneath her feet, and even the pristine cleanliness, it was a perfect representation in miniature of the privileged world Diego inhabited. She couldn’t pretend she belonged here, but it was a welcome resting place, and for the next couple of hours, she was going to take him up on his offer and just say thanks.
“You don’t know what you’ve got,” she murmured as she looked around.
“I know what I almost lost.”
The tone of Diego’s voice made her turn to face him. And of course, the doubt came back. Maybe it was tiredness, but all she could think was, what had he lost? Sex on tap? Her tech expertise? The fact she was a crack shot? Diego was a billionaire and a royal duke. She was an orphan, the girl with no name, who had been called Celina for no better reason than the moon had been shining on her blanket on the night she was found. But there had been a blanket. Someone had cared for her. Her mother had cared for her. It was just getting her head around the fact that the man staring with concern into her eyes right now seemed to care for her too.
She didn’t move as Diego took the single step necessary to bring her into his arms. “Stop,” he whispered. “Stop doubting, and trust me. Sometimes good things are taken away, like your friend Marissa, but not always. Don’t waste precious time fretting about something that might never happen.
“You can have your pick of women. Why me?”
He shot her a look of pure irony. “I’ve been asking myself that over and over. There has to be an easier option than a woman with a mind of her own.”
“A dog?” she suggested in her first weak attempt at humor.
“Even my dogs are willful, but I love them just the same.” He smiled ruefully. “What’s life without a challenge?”
I love you so much, she thought as he stood back and waited for her to climb into bed, but she knew she’d feel gauche and awkward in his sophisticated world. It was better to remain working for him, where she knew she could do a good job.
Chapter Twelve
Courage had proved instinctive when the chips were down, but love was hard, Celina realized as she snuggled down in Diego’s bed.
Bad things can happen unexpectedly, whatever Diego said. Life can quickly spiral out of control.
“Leave the past behind you, where it belongs,” he insisted.
“Can you read my mind too?”
“Yeah.”
He remained by the bed. She felt safe while he was there. She didn’t want to be alone. She’d changed out of his sweats and was wearing one of his clean tops. It was like a rather long dress on her. Everything he owned was giant-sized. “Another shower can wait,” he’d told her. “You had one at the airport before you came on board, so just lie back now, close your eyes and picture yourself somewhere you’ve felt safe in the past.”
In his arms?
Everything smelled so fresh and good, as if sunshine had been woven into the fabric. Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes. This was all very new to her, this feeling of letting go, of being cared for, and she couldn’t say she didn’t like it.
“Sleep,” Diego insisted as she rested her face against the deep bank of pillows. “I’ll stay with you.”
I’ll close my eyes for five minutes and he’ll be gone, she thought. He must have better things to do. But when she closed her eyes, blackness quickly overwhelmed her, and she welcomed the healing power of sleep.
~~o0o~~
He watched Celina transition from exhaustion into a sleep so deep, she might have been comatose. This was the first time he could remember wishing a flight were longer. She needed her mind to switch off. Seeing worry fade from her face as she drifted away was worth every moment of his time. As much as he wanted her, and he did want her, she needed this more. She touched him in more ways than he could say, and it upset him to see her still wrapped in a defensive huddle even in sleep. Sex had always been a simple transaction in the past, but it was the last thing on his mind now. Friendship with a woman was new to him. He had acquaintances. He had lovers. And then was Celina, who was both.
Her life had been an emotional desert similar to his. He’d never known if his parents would be home when it came to the holidays. They weren’t interested in hearing about bullies and the harshness at school. As a little boy of seven, he couldn’t have articulated this anyway. He’d learned to fend for himself and to say nothing that might up
set his parents’ smooth-running life. He was glad that things had been that way. It helped him to understand Celina. Her childhood had been hideous compared to his, nothing short of a master class in survival, so it came as no surprise to him that she felt the urge to devote her life to helping others.
Thinking he was disturbing her as she stirred, he turned to go.
“No! Don’t leave me,” she exclaimed, and reaching out, she clung to his wrist. “Stay with me. Make love to me. Help me to forget.”
“I need to take a shower—”
“No,” she said fiercely. “You need to make love to me.”
Fully awake now, she pinned him with a stare. He smiled inwardly at her courage and determination. This was Celina, he reminded himself, and she was strong. She knew exactly what she wanted, and always had.
It also turned out she was right.
~~o0o~~
Kisses, touches… Diego was the perfect antidote to mental anguish. Her body craved him, and her mind did what it was told on this occasion. It helped that his enthusiasm matched hers. Light the blue touch paper and stand well back, she thought as he stripped off his clothes. Her excitement was at fever pitch by the time he threw back the bedclothes and joined her on the bed. Every nerve ending she had fired repeatedly as she clung to him. She wanted him to cover every part of her with his hot, hard body. She needed to feel his heat. She craved the affirmation that they’d survived and could go on to enjoy a purposeful life. Wrapping his arms around her body, he dragged her close. She loved it when he pressed her against him. She loved his touches. She loved his—
“What?” he asked as she cried out. He frowned. “What did they do to you, Celina?”
“I did it to myself,” she admitted.
“What?” he said tensely. “What did you do?”
She was seeing the face his enemies must see, she realized, and that expression was terrifying. “It’s just a small abrasion.”
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