get his hands on
her there had been an interruption.
There would be no interruptions now, the wild side of his
brain reminded him with frantic lust. He could
push her against the wall, bury himself inside the hot grip
of her pussy, and find the relief he needed with
teeth-clenching desperation.
"And you're not?" she asked him as he slowly
released her hands.
Hands that slid down and curled over the hard ridge of his
erection, stealing his breath.
"Do you think you really managed to slip into that
naval clinic unseen, Ian?" she whispered then. "You're
good, big boy, but you're not that good. Don't you know
that entry point you found unsecured was
unsecured for a reason? That the guard was napping, for a
reason. That Nathan's bathroom door was
closed. For a reason. I knew you would be there. I knew,
all I had to do was wait, because I knew the
signs that a path had been made for you. You're working an
op here and we both know it."
He released her slowly, his hands curling over her
shoulders as he pushed her away from his body,
despite every cell in his cock screaming no.
She turned slowly to face him, wearing nothing but the
bronze silk robe and panties so tiny he wondered
why she bothered. Witchy gray eyes stared up at him, the
cloudy color ringed with a thin circle of
gray-blue that had always fascinated him.
The dangerous statement had cleared the mind-numbing lust
from his brain and left him chilled to the
bone. His contact at DHS had arranged the visit, he knew
that. But
how had Kira known it?
"There's no op in progress."
He breathed in through his nose before he moved away from
her, pacing to the chair where his
expensive silk jacket had been laid. Shrugging it on, he
turned back to her, remembering the job, the
dangers, and the price of failure.
"He saved my life when I was a kid," he stated,
hearing his own raspy voice and recalling that his
screams at that time had nearly broken it. Nathan's was
worse. His voice was so ruined that the sound of
it would always remind the other man of the hell he had
endured.
Kira nodded. "He told me about that."
Ian clenched his teeth. "I needed to say goodbye. That
was all."
Her lips pursed. "Just saying goodbye? All security
measures were allowed to lapse so a drug lord could
say goodbye? Give me a break, Ian."
"Money in the right hands works wonders," he
assured her, staring back at her with the same icy
expression he had perfected over the past several years.
"I'm here by choice, Ms. Porter, don't make the
mistake of thinking otherwise. And trust me when I say, I
don't intend to leave."
Her gaze flickered then, whether with indecision or belief,
he couldn't be sure. Reading Kira was like
trying to navigate through lake fog. Damned near
impossible.
Finally, another of those irritating, knowing smiles shaped
her lips and she shrugged with a graceful shift
of her slender shoulders.
That smile was designed to make men crazy. To make them
dream of wiping it off her face with passion,
or with their dick filling that hot little mouth. Ian had
quite a few fantasies concerning the latter.
"Whatever," she finally answered smoothly.
"Uncle Jason is considering buying a villa here, did I mention
that? He's flying in tomorrow to check out a few
possibilities that I found today. You go ahead and play
your little games, Ian, I'm sure I can find a way to occupy
myself."
"Get the hell out of Aruba, Kira," he ordered her
harshly. "Don't turn this into a pissing match, because
you'll lose. The hard way."
She clicked her tongue then. "Really, Ian, you're
losing your perspective. Drug cartel leaders don't give
warnings, they act. I guess you'll just have to try the
cement slippers next." Her eyes widened. "Or are
they using something else here in the Caribbean? Sometimes
it's just so hard to keep up."
He'd had enough. He'd warned her. She was an experienced
agent, she knew the game, the rules and
the dangers. If she got her ass killed, then it was
Marie Sexton, Heidi Cullinan