Enticed by the Operative (Doctors in Danger, Book 1) (13 page)

Which was why they needed to get back to the apartment. He didn’t think they were being followed, but the thick vegetation of the jungle had a muffling effect on noises, and it would be all too easy for the men to sneak up on them.

Olivia panted behind him but didn’t speak. Maybe she was angry with him, or maybe she was just saving her breath for the hike. Either way, there would be time for talking once they were safely indoors.

If she was willing to listen.

He felt his face heat, and not from the exertion of the hike. He’d acted like a child, yelling at her when he should have been congratulating her. She’d gone into the lion’s den and emerged unscathed, which was something to be proud of. She’d come a long way from the fragile, scared woman still shaking in the aftermath of Carlos’s appearance at her home.

He pulled his hat down low on his face once they entered the village, not wanting to draw attention to his dirt-covered face. Fortunately the streets were fairly empty, as it was the hottest part of the day and most people were inside. They made their way quickly to the apartment building, and he led the way up the stairs to their second-floor unit.

The cool darkness of the apartment was a relief after his time in the jungle. He laid his pack on the ground, sighing in pleasure as the air hit the sweat-damp skin of his back for the first time in hours. He wanted nothing more than to lie on the floor and let the fan blow over him, but he had to make peace with Olivia first.

She carefully shut the door behind them, looking every bit as relieved to be inside as he felt. He watched her set her own backpack down, saw her features relax as she pulled the thick braid of her hair off the back of her neck to take advantage of the cooler air.

Words of apology crowded into his mouth, but he remained quiet for a moment, drinking in the sight of her. She truly was a remarkable woman, and she deserved to hear him say that. The last thing he wanted was for his earlier temper tantrum to crush her newfound sense of confidence with respect to this operation.

“Do you want to talk about what happened back there?” Her eyes were closed and her tone was mild, but he could tell from the remaining tension in her muscles that she was still annoyed with him.

“I overreacted,” he said simply.

Her eyes popped open and he caught a flash of surprise in their brown depths. Olivia clearly hadn’t expected him to admit fault so quickly, and her reaction stung a little bit. Did he really seem that arrogant?

“I’m sorry,” he continued. “You were right—you did an outstanding job, and I shouldn’t have given you a hard time about it.”

She studied him a moment, weighing his words. “I’m sorry I scared you,” she said finally. “I honestly didn’t mean to.”

He thrust a hand through his hair and looked down. “I know. It’s not your fault—I just let my emotions get the better of me. It won’t happen again.”

“Is that right?” He heard Olivia take a step and he looked up to find her standing only inches away. His muscles tensed in anticipation and his fingertips itched to touch her, but he forced his hands to remain by his sides.

She stared up at him, her dark eyes pulling him in. He couldn’t look away, even if he’d wanted to. “Does that mean you care about me?” Her voice was soft, but there was no artifice in her tone. She wasn’t asking because she wanted him to stroke her ego—she was asking because she genuinely wanted to know.

Might as well give her the truth. “You know I do.” He unlocked his arm and brought his hand up to touch the side of her face. Just a brief caress, the slide of fingertips on skin. Enough to tide him over for a bit, until they could get out of this hellhole and back to a place where they could explore what was between them.

She closed her eyes and turned her face into his touch. His heart kicked against his ribs and he felt his breath hitch in his chest. They were standing on dangerous ground. He had to move away now, before he did something foolish.

Summoning all his self-control, Logan dropped his hand and took a step back. Disappointment flashed in Olivia’s eyes and it took a lot of willpower to keep from reaching for her again. But it was important to maintain the separation between them. He couldn’t think straight when he was touching her, and they were still in danger.

He cleared his throat. “We need to hide the drugs. It’s not smart to have them in the open here.”

Olivia nodded. “Did you have someplace in mind?”

“The mattress.” It was a cliché, but it looked like the only viable option. The floor was tiled, which meant there were no loose boards to pull up. And the ceiling was a flat expanse of adobe with no nooks or crevices that would allow for concealment. The cupboards were too obvious, and the toilet tank wasn’t large enough. That left the mattress. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best he could do at the moment.

They walked over to the bed and he flipped the mattress over, exposing its dingy yellow underbelly. Olivia brought her bag and knelt on the floor, then withdrew the plastic-wrapped packages.

“Are you sure we’ll be able to get these back to the US?” she asked doubtfully. “Won’t they be easy to detect?”

“Probably, but we have a baggage handler on the payroll,” he explained. “He’ll take the bag off the plane and bring it to Alan, bypassing customs and the drug dogs.” He retrieved his pocketknife as he spoke and sliced through fabric. Fortunately the mattress was old and the stuffing crushed down, which meant he didn’t have to pull any of it out to make room for the drugs. He inserted the packages, making sure they were flat. They did still have to sleep on this thing, after all. Then he sealed the slit in the mattress with a strip of duct tape and put the bed back together.

“Very tidy,” Olivia observed drily.

“I’m glad you approve.”

“I can’t believe I’m actually going to sleep on a mattress full of drugs,” she muttered, shaking her head. “How did my life get so messed up?”

“For what it’s worth, I doubt you’ll even feel it,” Logan said, striving to lighten the moment. “Just try not to think about it.”

A mischievous glint entered her eyes. “I can think of some ways you can distract me.”

Heat flared in his chest, spreading down his limbs in a trail of sparks. He swallowed hard. “I can, too,” he said, his voice suddenly raspy. “But we agreed to wait until we got back.”

“Hmm...” She stepped closer and trailed her finger up his arm. Goose bumps rose on his skin and his mouth went dry. “We did say that. But what if I want to reconsider our arrangement?”

His body rejoiced and he reached for her before his brain could butt in and ruin things. She emitted a soft, breathy laugh as he pulled her hard against his chest. The sound warmed his blood and made his skin tingle with anticipation.

He threaded his hand through her hair, which was thick and damp with the sweat from her earlier exertions. A gentle tug brought her chin up and her lips into the perfect position.

“Are you sure about this?” he whispered.
Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes...

Her breath was warm against his chin when she responded. “I’ve never been more sure in my life.”

CHAPTER 12

“S
he has the packages.”

Carlos picked idly at his salad, searching for a stray tomato. “You are certain?”

“Yes.” But there was a slight hesitation to the word. Carlos remained silent, waiting for his informant to elaborate.

“I’m confident she has them. I saw her hike into the forest this morning, and she just now returned.”

“Perhaps she was simply communing with nature,” he suggested, feeling a perverse sort of satisfaction at antagonizing the caller.

“That’s not like her.”

“So you say.”

The informant was silent for a moment. “I will search the apartment as soon as they leave to confirm she picked up the merchandise.”

“They?” Carlos seized on the word. “You haven’t dealt with him yet?”

“No.”

Carlos dropped his fork and it clanged loudly against his plate. Heads swiveled, but he picked it up again, playing it off as a fumbling error. People quickly lost interest, but he waited a moment before speaking just to be sure.

“Were my instructions unclear?” He was careful to keep his voice level—it wouldn’t do to draw attention to himself again.

“No—not at all. It’s just—”

“Just what? You know how I feel about excuses.”

“Yes, sir. I just haven’t been able to get him alone. Yet,” the informant tacked on, almost stammering with anxiety. “I will, though. Soon.”

I doubt it
. It seemed he was going to need to find another tool for this particular job. But whom could he trust?

“See that you do,” he said, keeping his thoughts to himself. No sense in triggering panic—he might still have use for this one yet.

He blocked out the rapid-fire apologies and excuses ringing in his ear, trying to think. Dr. Sandoval was due to arrive back in ten days. That didn’t leave much time for a plan B...

“Yes, yes, yes,” he said impatiently, cutting the caller off. “Get back to me when you actually have news.” He hung up mid-assurance and placed the phone on the table, next to the bread plate.

If Olivia Sandoval really did have the drugs, that was good news indeed. But it wasn’t enough. The DEA agent had to be dealt with, and the sooner, the better. El Jefe expected an update soon, and he wanted to have good news to share with the man when they next spoke.

If not, he wouldn’t be speaking for very long.

* * *

Olivia had barely gotten the words out of her mouth before Logan’s lips came down on hers. His arms banded around her torso, locking her in place against him.

Not that she wanted to move.

He kissed her fiercely, like a starving man who’d just found a meal. His passion was all-consuming, crashing over her in a wave that was almost overwhelming. She gasped for air and clung to him, fearing that if she let go she’d lose him forever.

Heat radiated off his body and she melted against him, feeling the edges of her body soften like warm candle wax. She tugged at the hem of his shirt, but their bodies were pressed too tightly together to move the fabric more than an inch or so. A groan of frustration escaped her mouth and Logan captured it in his own.

He obligingly moved back, keeping his mouth on hers while she pulled his shirt up. Only when the fabric bumped into his chin did he break the kiss, and then only for the split second it took to jerk the shirt over his head. It fell to the floor in a dirty heap and Olivia wasted no time putting her hands on his chest.

His skin was warm and dusted with dark hair that tickled her fingertips. He made a low sound in his throat, and the vibrations of his approval traveled down her arms and settled in her belly, creating a delicious sensation that complemented her own growing need. She slowly moved her hands up to the broad expanse of his shoulders, pausing here and there to trace the lines of his muscles, so different from her own.

Logan tugged on her shirt with a few hesitant jerks, silently asking her permission to remove the fabric that separated them. Not wanting to take her hands off him, she broke their kiss long enough to whisper, “Yes.” In one smooth motion he pulled it off her body and she heard the rustle of fabric as it joined its fellow on the ground.

His hands were large but his touch was gentle when he reached for her. But just as his fingertips grazed her skin, he jerked back, almost as if burned.

“What’s wrong?” Why was he taking a step back? Had he changed his mind? Oh, God, how was she going to get through the next ten days without dying of embarrassment if he pulled away now?

Logan held his hands out, fingers spread, and was staring at them as if he’d never seen them before. He turned them over and studied his knuckles, then ran his eyes up his arms. “I’m filthy,” he said, his tone suggesting he was just now realizing this fact.

“Oh.” Her brain scrambled to make sense of his words. Did this mean he wasn’t about to explain why this was a bad idea? She had the sudden urge to laugh out loud, but she stopped herself, not wanting to seem like a crazy woman. “Is that all?” A little dirt never hurt anyone, and they had other, much more interesting things to focus on...

“I can’t... Not like this.” His cheeks went pink under the filth and he met her gaze, his green eyes distressed. “You deserve better.”

Her heart turned over at his thoughtfulness and a wave of affection came over her, washing away her earlier doubts. She smiled up at him. “You’re very sweet.”

He was already working the button of his pants and toeing off his shoes and socks. “Give me five minutes,” he promised, his expression earnest. “I’ll take the world’s fastest shower and I’ll be right back.” He took a step back, bumped into the side table next to the bed and barely avoided falling down with his pants around his ankles. Wobbling slightly, he regained his balance and made it into the bathroom. He shut the door, then jerked it back open and poked his head out.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he said. The door shut again and the pipes groaned as he turned the shower on.

Olivia shook her head, smiling to herself. She’d never met anyone like Logan. He was the perfect combination of silly and serious, sweet and protective. He made her laugh and yet she felt so safe when he was around, like nothing bad could touch her. It was a strange feeling when her rational mind knew she was in the midst of terrible danger. But Logan insulated her from the worst of it, something she appreciated more than words could say.

She glanced down at her shirt, lying in a sweaty heap at her feet. She could do with some freshening up as well, and there didn’t seem to be any point in waiting for him to vacate the bathroom. If they shared the shower, they’d be conserving water. It was the environmentally responsible thing to do...

Her mind made up, Olivia shucked off the rest of her clothes as she walked over to the bathroom door. She pushed it open, and Logan hollered from behind the curtain. “Almost done.”

“Don’t rush on my account.”

“Just give me—” He stuck his head out and the words died in his throat when he caught sight of her. He swallowed hard. “Um.”

Olivia raised a brow. “Cat got your tongue?”

He shook his head, his eyes glued to her body. “More like my brain just exploded.”

She laughed, and a purely feminine part of her thrilled at his response. “Good thing I’m a doctor.”

“Are you going to put me back together?”

“Something like that.” She took a step forward. “Move over. I’m coming in.”

Logan stepped to the side to make room for her, his muscles growing tense as she approached. She brushed past him and ducked under the warm spray, closing her eyes in bliss as the water cascaded down her body, washing away the feel of the jungle.

Logan made a low, strangled sound and she opened her eyes to find him staring at her, his gaze filled with desire and something close to reverence. His response made her feel both empowered and cherished, and she blinked back a sudden surge of tears. She hadn’t connected with a man like this since Scott had left, and Logan’s obvious appreciation gave her a sense of completion that she didn’t realize she’d been missing until now.

She took a moment to look at him, to drink in the view of his strong, toned body, naked and willing. He was a glorious sight, made all the more appealing because she knew what lay beneath all that muscle and bone. Logan had the heart of a guardian, and she felt a little thrill at the knowledge that he had chosen to protect
her
.

She lifted her hand and reached out, stopping just before she touched him. He met her eyes and answered her silent question with a nod. She placed her palm over his heart, loving the feel of his pulse against her skin. Strong. Steady. So full of life.

He brushed his fingertips down her arm in a tentative caress that made her shiver. She stepped closer, pressing herself fully against him. His body was a study in textures, and she reveled in the different sensations. Soft skin. Coarse hair. Solid muscle. Her hypersensitive nerves cataloged each trait, and her need for him grew with every beat of her heart.

“I’m on the Pill,” she blurted, knowing that in a few moments the part of her brain responsible for thought was going to shut down.

“Thank God,” he murmured, his breath gusting out in a sigh of relief. “I’m clean. I was tested at my last check up a few months ago.”

“Me, too,” she said.

He grinned down at her, and the wicked spark in his eyes made her knees go weak.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

They moved together, exploring each other with hands, lips, and tongues. The warm water made her feel almost drugged, but the sensation of Logan’s body against her own was a potent force that demanded her full attention.

He lifted her up and she wrapped her arms around his neck, his casual display of strength making her insides go liquid. The tile was cold against her back, but then Logan slipped inside her, and she forgot everything but the man in her arms and this perfect moment.

* * *

Logan stretched out on the bed, his body so relaxed he felt almost boneless. “That was, without a doubt, the best shower of my life.”

Olivia put her hand on his stomach and traced a lazy path up, up, up until she reached his breastbone. She pressed her palm to his heart and he put his own hand over hers, anchoring it in place. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this clean before,” she remarked.

“It was my job to get all the dirt off you. And I take my job very seriously.” His blood warmed at the memory of his hands on her body, touching, caressing, gliding over skin slippery with soap.

She laughed, a contented, almost dreamy sound. “Let me be the first to compliment you on your...technique.”

“I’m so glad you appreciated it.”

“Indeed. It was just what the doctor ordered.”

“Only for you,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to the hollow of her shoulder. “I give very personalized attention.”

“That’s good to hear, because I don’t like to share.”

“I don’t, either.” A pang of memory pierced the bubble of his good mood and he frowned.
She’s not Emma
, he told himself again. He took a deep, cleansing breath and pushed thoughts of his former fiancée out of his mind—there wasn’t room in this bed for a third person.

“You know...” Olivia trailed off, sounding suddenly shy.

“Yes?”

She shifted until she could meet his eyes. “I don’t hop into bed with every guy I meet.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he assured her solemnly. She thumped him lightly on the arm and he grinned.

“You know what I’m trying to say,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him.

He did, but it was fun to tease her. “Can’t say that I do.”

The mattress shifted as she flopped onto her back and covered her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re impossible,” she said, sighing dramatically.

Logan leaned over and pressed a kiss to the inside of her upper arm. “Tell me.”

She eyed him narrowly. “I’m not sure I want to now.” Her tone was serious but the corners of her mouth twitched, giving her away.

He rolled fully on top of her and began to tickle her, enjoying the way she squirmed against him. “Tell me,” he repeated.

She giggled and intensified her struggles, creating some interesting friction between their bodies. Finally she cried out, “Uncle!” between laughs.

Logan stilled his hands and she went limp beneath him, the pace of her breathing gradually slowing as she relaxed. “I believe you were about to say something,” he teased.

Olivia laughed again and grinned up at him. “If you must know,” she said, sounding prim, “I was going to say that this was—
is
—special to me. That you...” She trailed off and looked away, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink.

“Go ahead,” he said gently.

She took a deep breath. “I haven’t done this in a long time.”

“How long?” There was no judgment in his tone. After all, he was in the same boat, relationship-wise. Still, he was surprised she’d been alone...

“There was someone once... He left just after my parents died.” She was silent for a moment, then cleared her throat. “So that’s why this means so much to me.”

Her words wrapped around his heart and he felt humbled by her admission. His throat tightened with emotion and he tried to clear it before speaking. “I feel the same way.” It came out a little gruffer than he’d intended, but Olivia didn’t seem bothered. She gave him an impossibly sweet smile and rolled toward him, seeking contact.

He folded her into his embrace, loving the feel of her body against his. She fit him perfectly—he could practically
feel
the broken, jagged pieces of his heart coming back together when she was with him. It was almost too good to believe, but if this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up.

Olivia let out a contented sigh and snuggled closer. “You know,” she said, her breath warm on his chest. “You were right. I really can’t feel the packages.”

Her observation was innocent enough, but it made the hairs on the back of his arms rise. She was right, he realized, with a growing sense of horror. He couldn’t feel them, either.

Logan sat up carefully so as not to knock Olivia off the bed. “What’s wrong?” Alarm entered her voice. “Your muscles are locked tight enough to break a bone.”