Without a Trace

by Velvet Vaughn

  It was pitch black inside the windowless room, but Wyatt’s arms anchored her to reality. She rolled until they were face to face, even if she couldn’t see his expression.

  “Morning, darling,” he rumbled in his sexy accent.

  “Good morning. How did you sleep?”

  “With you in my arms? Perfectly.”

  She smiled. “Me, too.”

  Then his lips met hers unerringly in the dark—how did he do that?—and she was lost in the sensation of kissing the man of her dreams. The man she loved. She didn’t protest when he rolled her over and slid inside. She reveled in the fullness, the sense of rightness that enveloped her. Even mostly clothed and trying her hardest to keep silent, the feel of his body was enough to send her hurtling towards release. He moved slowly, deliberately, letting the feelings build. When the sensations overtook her, she rode the wave, biting her lip to keep from shouting her euphoria to the world. He followed after her, his harsh breaths fanning against her ear. When he collapsed on top of her, she wrapped her arms and legs around him and held on tight.

  #

  After another shower that led to more touching and caressing, Wyatt handed her a fresh t-shirt while he pulled on the last of his clean clothes. Too bad Father Juan didn’t have a washing machine. Her pants would be able to walk on their own, soon.

  Ryan was sitting up, his back propped against the wall. He continued to improve, though one eye was still swollen shut. He made another trip to the bathroom under his own power, though Wyatt stood a few steps behind, ready to catch him if he took another tumble.

  Once they’d all eaten and showered, there wasn’t much to do but sit around and talk. The books Father Juan supplied were classics she’d read many times, so they didn’t provide a distraction. Every hour or so, she coaxed Ryan into standing and performing a set of exercises, from toe-touches to side bends to knee lifts.

  The last time she “encouraged” him to get up and walk in place, Wyatt snickered. She shot him a look, but he widened his eyes in innocence.

  “Get up.”

  Wyatt blinked. “What’s that?”

  “I said get up. Do you think I didn’t see the face you made behind my back at Ryan?”

  “What face…I didn’t—”

  “Get up.”

  Mumbling under his breath, something to do with sadistic torture masters, he stood and followed her instructions. Soon, they were all stretching and limbering up their muscles. Rehab was never fun, but she wanted Ryan’s stamina up in case they needed to leave quickly. She was shooting for tomorrow.

  Though Wyatt liked to give her a hard time about being a drill sergeant, he always completed the exercises she threw at him. She’d even left detailed instructions with Maggie and Kayla on his rehab program. Speaking of…

  “Wyatt?”

  “What? I’m touching my damn toes,” he grumbled.

  She smiled at his attempt. He was touching them, albeit a bit wobbly. Still, A plus for effort. “What happened with Maggie and Kayla before you left?”

  He stood and wiped his forehead with the hem of his shirt. “What do you mean?”

  “You said you didn’t tell them you were taking a trip. Did they follow my rehab program?”

  His hands fisted on his hips. “Yeah, about that…I’m not speaking with Kayla. Ever again.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. “Why?”

  He threw his hands out. “She’s worse than you! You gave her a little power and boom.” She jumped back when he smacked his hands together. “Went straight to her head.”

  “She was only following my program,” she pointed out.

  “The hell she was,” he argued. “I’m pretty sure she was trying to kill me.”

  “Wait,” Ryan cut in before she could defend the female agent. “Why were you doing rehab? Were you injured?”

  “Not really,” Wyatt downplayed.

  “Yes,” she said at the same time.

  Wyatt shot her a disgruntled look. “A small on the job incident.”

  Incident? He called saving dozens of lives small?

  If he wouldn’t toot his own horn, she would. She’d blow the hell out of the thing.

  “A couple of weeks ago, rebels dropped a bomb and destroyed an entire airport hangar and everyone inside. Wyatt had just left the building and he was thrown through the air.”

  “Wow,” Ryan murmured. “That’s awful.”

  “That’s not all.”

  “Yeah, it is,” Wyatt tried.

  She ignored him. “Concussed and injured, he crawled to his vehicle and withdrew a sniper rifle. With a severe case of double vision, he managed to take out the helicopter that had circled around and was about to bomb a tank holding hundreds of gallons of jet fuel. It would’ve wiped out everything and everyone within a twenty-mile radius.”

  “Damn,” Ryan murmured in awe. “That’s impressive. How the hell did you manage to carry me through the woods after that? Shouldn’t you still be recuperating?”

  “Aussie blood,” Wyatt boasted. “We’re made of sterner stuff.”

  “No doubt,” Ryan agreed.

  She did, too. He was a superman among men. The bravest, strongest, most incredible man she’d ever met. Not to mention kind, sweet and thoughtful. Mix all those together and it was no surprise she’d fallen hard for the warrior. He was one-in-a-million.

  She retreated to the bathroom before she did something stupid like blurting out her feelings or worse: attacking him with a captive audience. She wasn’t sure she could control herself. Her feelings were at the surface. Despite the precariousness of their situation, with Wyatt at her side, she knew they could withstand anything they encountered.

  When she returned, Ryan was grilling Wyatt on his job with COBRA Securities. He was fascinated with their work and wanted to know everything about the company and the employees. Soon to be a part of the group herself, she included her insights into the dynamics of the people. Talking about Maggie and the others brought a wave of homesickness she’d never experienced before. Being stranded in a foreign country with deranged kidnappers after them might have something to do with the feelings, but she couldn’t wait to fly home, knowing she was safe.

  With Ryan’s military background, he would fit right in with the other agents. She studied him, wondering if he was interested in applying for a job. He’d ended his military career and hadn’t decided on a new career path. Luke and Logan, the bosses at COBRA Securities, had way more jobs than agents right now. She knew from Maggie that they were planning on hiring more people over the next few months to cover the work. She wasn’t an expert, but she thought he would excel at the job. She’d have a chat with Wyatt later to gauge his thoughts. She’d recommend Ryan, but it would mean more coming from Wyatt.

  Time passed quickly and before she knew it, Father Juan was sticking his head inside.

  “Anyone hungry?” He patted his belly to translate his question to Ryan.

  “Yes,” they all answered in unison, bringing a smile to Father Juan’s face. He slid the door open wide and swung around with a tray in his hands. Wyatt jumped up to take it from him. The scent of warm bread and steaming vegetable soup wafted to her and her stomach growled.

  “We would love for you to join us,” Amelia told him.

  “I would be honored,” he said, looking pleased.

  After the soup had been ladled into bowls and passed around, Wyatt sliced into the bread and handed everyone a plate.

  “This looks delicious,” she told Father Juan.

  “The bread is courtesy of one of our villagers. She bakes it fresh each day.”

  Amelia took a bite and almost moaned. It melted in her mouth. The soup was divine, and it hit the spot. As they ate, Father Juan shared stories of the missionaries that travelled to the remote village and how one man tried to teach him hip hop moves. He demonstrated a couple, to their amusement. She and Wyatt took turns translating for Ryan.

  Ryan’s good eye was drooping and Am
elia could feel exhaustion pulling at her, too. With Amelia’s help, Father Juan gathered up the dishes. Wyatt insisted on carting the tray back to his kitchen. Father Juan bid them goodnight with Wyatt following behind.

  “Do you want to use the bathroom before bed?” She asked Ryan.

  He nodded and swung his feet off the side of the bed. She stayed a few steps behind in case he had any trouble, but he made it and closed the door. Wyatt returned and she walked into his arms as naturally as if she did so every day.

  “You tired?”

  She stifled a yawn. “Yes.”

  “You can use the bathroom after Ryan. I’ll wait.”

  She wanted to argue but she was sleepy. It wasn’t as if she’d done anything strenuous, but her body needed the rest. As soon as Ryan was out, she made quick work of brushing her teeth with one of the brushes she’d packed in her medical supplies and washing her face. It felt strange that she hadn’t worn any makeup for days. Her brows and lashes were so light, they were virtually impossible to see. She never left the house without mascara, but she hadn’t even given it a thought while she’d been in the jungle.

  Leaving the light on for Wyatt, she retreated to the small bed they shared. Ryan was already fast asleep. She scooted against the wall and waited for Wyatt to join her, but her eyes closed, and she was out before he returned.

  #

  Wyatt tugged the string to extinguish the light and left the bathroom. Ryan was sound asleep which meant he and Amelia could indulge in a little nocturnal nookie. Only…she was asleep, too. He sighed. So much for the sex-a-thon he had planned. It was just as well. He needed to rest and build up his strength for the days ahead. His only goal was to get Amelia to safety. The thought of the kidnappers still after them made his pulse pound. They were not giving up.

  Kicking off his boots, he settled them against the end of the bed, ready to step into them if needed. After tugging the string to the overhead light, plunging the room into blackness, he eased back the covers and crawled in next to her. She rolled over and cuddled against him with a purr and he gathered her close. There was no better feeling in the world than having her in his arms.

  The future flashed before his eyes, fifty years ahead. They were cuddled exactly like this with her snug in his arms. They were older and gray, but the love hadn’t diminished. If anything, it’d grown stronger. There were children and grandchildren and memories too numerous to count. A good life—a very good life—filled with love and happiness.

  He swiped a hand down his face, hoping he was psychic and that the visions were real. Ethan Addison’s girlfriend owned a fortune-telling shop. Though she didn’t do readings herself, her aunt was gifted. He’d never felt the need to have his fortune told, but he’d love to know if the vision in his head, so vivid and intense, would come true. God, he hoped so. The thought of spending his life with Amelia, sharing the good and the bad, made his heart soar.

  He knew he needed to sleep while he could. They were safe. Once they left, it might be days before he could let down his guard. Only, his brain was working overtime.

  He thought about the conversation with Ryan earlier. The man was interested in COBRA Securities. He had the background to qualify as an agent, but he’d need to pass Dante Costa’s rigorous tests. Wyatt didn’t know about his shooting accuracy, but he’d need to ace those tests, too. He was a good judge of character and he thought Ryan would be a good fit. He had no problem recommending him to Luke and Logan as a possible recruit, if he was interested.

  The door slicked open and Wyatt shot straight up. He’d dozed off and had no idea what time it was or how long he’d been out of it. Complete darkness sucked and messed with his internal clock.

  Blinking to focus, he spotted Father Juan, backlit from the light in his bedroom. He looked worried…no panicked. Wyatt’s instincts were instantly alert. He jumped up and snapped on the light.

  Father Juan bent over to slide an overflowing box inside that contained packaged food and bottles of water. “I just got word that a group of armed men are headed this way. One of the villagers was out hunting and spotted them. They’ll be here soon. I’m not sure if the two men who were here earlier are with them but bolt the door and don’t come out.”

  Amelia jumped off the bed. “Father Juan, stay in here with us where it’s safe.”

  He smiled kindly at her. “Thank you for the offer, but they will wonder where I am. I’ll be fine. I will let you know when it’s clear.”

  As soon as he slid the bookcase in place, Wyatt shot the bolts that would make it impossible for anyone to get inside.

  “I hope we didn’t bring trouble to his door,” Amelia murmured.

  Wyatt nodded. “Me, too.”

  “It’s my fault,” Ryan said. He held up a hand when they both started to protest. “We wouldn’t still be here if I’d been able to move.”

  “Not your fault,” Wyatt insisted. “They don’t know we’re here now. Even if they found out we had been at one time, they don’t know we’re still here. They might search all the huts, but they won’t find us, so it’s really the same as if we’re gone.”

  “The only ones at fault are the men who kidnapped us,” Amelia asserted.

  And they weren’t giving up. They wouldn’t be safe until they were out of the country.

  Since the room was carved out of a hill, it was completely soundproofed. A war could rage right outside the church and they wouldn’t know it. The downside was that he had no idea what was happening. Would the gang come in hot, firing at anyone who moved? Or would they simply ask questions and move along to the next village? He feared for the former but prayed for the latter.

  #

  The good thing about a hidden room was exactly that—it was concealed. Unless someone knew about it, they wouldn’t be found. Amelia had never been claustrophobic before, but twinges of unease started settling in her bones. She glanced around. Was there enough air for three people? What if the gang set fire to the church? They’d be trapped inside with no way out. They’d surely die of smoke inhalation.

  With all they’d been through the last few days, now was not the time to panic. She inhaled through her nose and held the breath to settle her jittery stomach. She glanced at Ryan to see he’d fallen back asleep. He still had remnants of the sedative in his system. She wished she could sleep.

  As if sensing her inner turmoil, Wyatt covered her hand with his. She looked at him and her nerves calmed instantly. He had that effect on her. He was her anchor, her rock.

  “Wait here.” He slid off the bed and tugged the string, plunging the room into darkness. Then the bed dipped, and his arms wrapped around her like the best blanket in the world. She snuggled against him, absorbing his strength.

  “In case there are any cracks under the bookcase,” he said, explaining his decision to turn off the lights.

  “I’ve never been afraid of confined spaces before, but this is freaking me out a little. It started when I was tossed in the cell, knowing I couldn’t get out.”

  His grip tightened. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Amelia. I’d give my life first.”

  A shudder wracked her body. She knew he absolutely meant every word. He’d almost died saving his coworkers, his friends. He was honorable and noble.

  “Ow. What was that for?”

  Her hand smarted from slugging him on his rock-solid bicep. “For talking about dying. I don’t want you saying things like that.”

  “Why? It’s the truth.”

  There was no sense in arguing with him, so she snuggled deeper into his embrace.

  “I hate hiding in here like a coward,” he muttered. “It’s not the villagers’ battle to fight.”

  “Maybe it’s not the gang who kidnapped us. It might be a different group of people.”

  “All men and armed? They’re looking for us. I can feel it.”

  She sighed. “So can I.”

  #

  Gustavo led his men to the small cluster of huts situated in the foothill
s of the Picos Dentados. They were able to use all-terrain vehicles through much of the jungle, but most of the villages were only accessible by foot, so they had to leave them and walk the rest of the way. Another complaint he’d make the escaped prisoners pay for since he hated to hike. He didn’t like to sweat unless it was over a beautiful woman’s body. Otherwise, exercise was for the weak, as far as he was concerned.

  He glanced around with a curled lip. This village resembled all the others located deep in the rainforest. It looked like the one he’d grown up in until he’d been able to claw his way out. He vowed never to be poor again, living without basic necessities like three meals a day and hot water. He wore Italian suits and shoes made from alligator hides. His watch was a diamond Rolex and he only drank the finest wines. He’d made sure his home was built with every luxury available including imported marble tile and solid gold fixtures. It was opulent and extravagant and anyone who stepped inside knew that the owner was a very successful man.

  So, it pissed Gustavo off that he was traipsing around the jungle looking for three escaped prisoners. He had men to do the grunt work for him. But these three were essential—well, two were important. Donald Bainbridge promised to pay big for the woman doctor. She’d witnessed their drug exchange, apparently. Gustavo could care less who saw them. Most people in Santigo feared him, including every government official. He’d built his reputation on blood and death, so people knew to avoid him or face the consequences.

  The woman was Donald’s problem, but until it was resolved, Donald wouldn’t do business with him. Donald brought in a significant amount of cash. Gustavo was not hurting for money—far from it. But he lived by the creed that more was always better. More money. More women. More power. If Gustavo didn’t produce the woman, Donald would take his business elsewhere. If he wasn’t in an American jail, that is. Gustavo chuckled. He had no doubt the woman would tattle at the first opportunity.