Harlequin Intrigue June 2015 - Box Set 2 of 2: Navy SEAL Newlywed\The Guardian\Security Breach (7 page)

Tracie sighed. “Then we do it.”

As they'd been talking, the sun had been steadily sliding toward the horizon, the shadows lengthening. Lights came on in the pool and a servant worked his way around the patio, lighting tiki torches. The atmosphere became more and more intimate as the sky darkened.

Alone with Rip, Tracie couldn't help but feel uncomfortable about her attempt to seduce him in the shower. Apparently he was not nearly as attracted to her as she was to him, or he would have taken her up on her offer, no questions asked.

With desire flaring up in the pit of her belly, Tracie leaned forward, prepared to run. “If you'll excuse me, I think I'll go change into something more formal for dinner.”

As she started to rise, a hand halted her progress.

“Just to make things clear,” Rip whispered. “I would have made love to you.”

She tried to pull away, her cheeks heating with embarrassment. Had he read her mind? “I know a brush off when I hear it.”

His grip tightened and he gave a quick yank, forcing her to fall forward to land in his lap.

“That's better.” He nibbled at her ear, while whispering, “Now we look like a newlywed couple and you have proof that I find you extremely attractive.”

The hard ridge beneath the placket of his trousers nudged her bottom and a thrill shivered across her body. Oh, yes, he was attracted. “Then why walk away?”

His hand clamped on either side of her face, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “Because you're a smart, beautiful and wonderful woman, and you deserve more than a fleeting affair.” He leaned closer, brushing his lips across hers. “And I mean to show you how much more you deserve than a one-night stand.” His words were low, his breath warm against her lips and then he crushed her to his chest, his mouth claiming hers.

Unable to resist, Tracie wrapped her arms around his neck and gave in to the desire that had been building since she'd first met this incredible man.

His tongue slid along hers in an urgent caress, drawing a heartfelt moan from deep in her chest. Warm, strong hands slipped down her back and up her sides, his thumbs skimming the underside of her breasts.

So caught up was she in his seduction, Tracie didn't hear anything outside her own moans and the blood pounding against her eardrums.

Rip raised his head, reluctantly releasing her lips.

The man she'd first seen wearing the powder-blue servant uniform when she'd entered the hacienda stood ten feet away, his head downcast but peering up from beneath heavy black brows. When he was certain he had their attention, he spoke quietly, “Pardon, Senor, Senora. Dinner will be served in fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you,” Rip said without releasing his hold on Tracie's body.

After the servant left, Rip stared into Tracie's eyes. “That's just a taste of what you could have.”

Her body on fire, Tracie wanted nothing more than to retreat to their room and make mad, passionate love to this man. But there was more than sexual desire emanating from his eyes. He held her gaze with an intensity she could imagine he used to attack any challenge, including taking on the enemy. “Just so you know, I'm not good at relationships. Bruce, my ex-fiancé is a perfect example of how lousy I am at it. I don't think he was really ever interested in me to begin with.”

“Then your fiancé didn't deserve you.” He dragged in a deep breath and let it out. “I guess I have more work to do on that front.” His hands wrapped around her hips and lifted her off his lap to stand on her feet.

She wobbled for a moment, still affected by that kiss.

“Go, change into something more formal. I'll see you at dinner.” He turned her and patted her bottom, propelling her forward.

Torn between being annoyed and flattered, she thought about slapping him for patting her fanny. Instead, she chose to scurry away before she threw herself into his arms and begged him to take her back to the room, not send her back on her own.

Tracie entered through the back patio door and turned down a wide, airy hallway, heading for the wing where their room was located.

Halfway down the hallway, Hector stood staring at a portrait.

Her feet making very little noise, Tracie was almost to Hector before he noticed her.

He stiffened and stepped back.

Tracie glanced at the portrait of a woman and a small boy and it hit her.

Hector had witnessed the murder of a woman and a small boy at the hands of the guerilla fighters.

A lead ball dropped to the pit of her stomach and her eyes burned with unshed tears. “These are the woman and child you were talking about, aren't they?”

He didn't respond at first, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Finally, he nodded. “I had known Marisol since we were both children. She had such a hard time getting pregnant. When Alejandro was born...” Hector broke off, scrubbing a hand through his dark hair. “I'd never seen her happier.”

“You must miss them terribly.”

Hector nodded. “I'd give anything to have them back.”

“I imagine you would.”

He closed his eyes and seemed to draw himself up before he turned to her. “Hank did not tell me why you and your husband really came to Honduras. It is not a honeymoon getaway for most people.”

Having just witnessed Hector's raw emotions about the loss of his wife and son, Tracie was tempted to blurt out the real reason they were there. But she bit down hard on her tongue, remembering Hank's entreaty not to trust anyone, even his contact.

Tracie shrugged. “In case you haven't figured it out, Chuck and I love a challenge. We like adventure and working through difficult situations. It's what makes our relationship so exciting.”
Among other things
, she added silently.

Hector held her gaze for a long moment before nodding. “Very well. If you have other goals in mind, please keep me informed. I might be able to help you.”

“Thank you. I will.” With a smile, Tracie edged past the man. “I need to change for dinner. Thank you for helping out with our security and for letting us stay in your beautiful home.”

He gave her a slight bow. “It is my pleasure.”

Tracie hurried away. Feeling as if she were still being watched as she rounded a corner, she glanced back and saw Hector standing exactly where she'd left him, his gaze following her.

A shiver of apprehension coursed down her spine. Hank wouldn't warn her to trust no one without reason. Still, she felt guilty for deceiving Hector, when he'd opened up to her about his loss.

Back in the bedroom, Tracie avoided looking at the king-size bed where she and Rip would sleep that night. After the kiss they'd shared, she wasn't sure she could lie beside him and not want more.

Oh, hell. She knew she wouldn't be satisfied to just sleep with Rip. She wanted all of him, but was she willing to open her heart to a man? Especially a man who had heartache written into every muscle in his body? He was a SEAL. They'd never see each other and he'd be all over the world, possibly with a different woman in every port.

No. She couldn't risk her heart. Not so soon after her former fiancé had proven he was traitorous to the country she loved and had lied to her during their entire time together.

A little voice in her head reminded her that not all men were the same. Still, she wasn't ready to trust her instincts again. Not yet. Maybe never.

Chapter Seven

Dinner was conducted in silence. Rip forced himself to eat, fueling his body for whatever was to come. Despite his resolve, the devil on his shoulder was pushing him to make love to Tracie before he had her full commitment to the possibility of a longer-term relationship.

He didn't know how long he could hold out and not take her to the next level, especially if they would be sleeping in the same room. For certain, he couldn't lie in the same bed and not touch her. It would be the floor for him. Hopefully, the discomfort would help to cool his desire.

As he sat at the long teak dining table that could have hosted a party of twenty, he stared across at Tracie.

She wore a simple black dress crisscrossed low in the front, exposing so much of her breasts, he couldn't look at her without his gaze drifting lower.

She'd twisted her silky brown hair up into some fancy knot at the back of her head, the long line of her throat tempting him nearly as much as the low-cut neckline of her dress. Several times he'd had to swallow hard to keep from groaning out loud.

When the meal was finally over, he nearly leaped to his feet. “I think I'll go for a walk.”

Rising with more grace, Tracie raised her brows. “That sounds lovely. Do you mind if I join you?” Her lips quirked at the corners as if she knew he couldn't refuse her and knew he wanted to.

With the possibility that anyone could be watching, Rip nodded and held out his hand. “Please. I haven't had nearly as much time with my new bride as I'd like.” He pulled her arm through his and guided her to the rear of the house and out through the patio door they'd gone through earlier.

The pool shone a soothing blue, the lights beneath the water tempting him. Later he'd come out on his own and swim a dozen laps to burn off some of the energy smoldering throughout his body. He wasn't used to taking things slow and he hadn't had an opportunity to work out since he'd met up with Tracie on this crazy mission Hank Derringer seemed to be in charge of.

Past the pool, several steps led down into a garden filled with every type of flower imaginable. Soft lights illuminated the path, pointing up to showcase one or another flowering bush or vine.

With Tracie so close, her bare arm touching his, Rip could almost imagine they really were on their honeymoon, enjoying a walk through a resort's grounds. When he reached a rose arbor, he stopped and turned her to face him, gathering her hands in his. “For the sake of our cover...”

Pulling her close, he circled her waist with one arm and cupped her chin with his free hand. Then he bent to kiss her.

Before his lips connected with hers, the rumble of an engine broke through the silence and darkness.

Tracie's body stiffened and they both turned their heads toward the sound.

It grew louder as an aircraft appeared, silhouetted against the moonlit sky.

“Think that might be our bodyguards?” Tracie asked, still standing in the circle of Rip's arm.

Rip returned his gaze to her face, her green eyes inky dark and reflecting the light from the moon. “Right now, I really don't care. All I seem to be able to think about is kissing you.”

Her gaze returned to his and she smiled. “Then what are you waiting for?”

“I haven't a clue.” He captured the back of her head in his hand and kissed her, long and hard, his tongue pushing through to tangle with hers. When he finally came up for air, he leaned his forehead against hers. “What am I going to do with you?”

She brushed her thumb across his cheek and replied, “Make love—” Her words halted and she pressed her hand against his chest. “Never mind. Perhaps we should greet our bodyguards and fill them in on our plans.”

“I wonder how much Hank told them?” Rip still wasn't sure about the Texas billionaire he had yet to meet.

“I suppose we'll find out.” She led the way back to the house, walking a step ahead of Rip. He wanted to catch up to her and hold her arm like he had as they'd walked out to the garden, but he sensed she was putting distance between them on purpose.

As they entered the hacienda, Hector was descending the staircase. When he reached the bottom he met Rip and Tracie halfway across the wide foyer. “I believe Hank's men have arrived. My team are bringing them to the hacienda.”

“Thank you.” Rip moved up beside Tracie and slipped his arm around her waist. “I'd like to speak with them before we turn in for the night. Tomorrow will be a full and hopefully fruitful day.”

“I've briefed my team on your needs. The man in charge speaks fluent English and will coordinate the details with your bodyguards once you decide on a plan. My men are prepared to ride out with you tomorrow as early as seven in the morning.”

“Thank you, Hector.” Rip held out his hand. “Your hospitality is exceptional.”

Hector placed his hand in Rip's. “Say the word. I can do more.”

“Thanks, but you've already done more than we could have hoped for.”

With a nod to Rip and then Tracie, Hector backed toward the stairs. “If that is all you need of me, I will bid you
buenas noches
.”

“Good night,” Tracie echoed.

Rip merely nodded, his attention shifting to the hum of engines outside the front of the house.

He cupped Tracie's elbow and steered her toward the grand entrance.

A servant rushed forward and opened the heavy wooden door before Rip could reach out to open it for himself. He just couldn't get used to someone else doing things for him.

As when he and Tracie arrived, two Jeeps pulled up in front of the house, each mounted with machine guns. One had four of Hector's men on it with one manning the gun. The other Jeep had three of Hector's men and two additional men in the backseat.

As they climbed out of the back of the Jeep, they spoke in Spanish to the men in front. Both men had dark hair and swarthy skin and wore blue jeans and faded heather-gray T-shirts with no identifying marks on the fabric. With their appearance and nondescript clothing, they could easily have been any tourist or local.

The first one out walked up to Rip. “You must be Mr. Gideon. I'm Carlos Rodriguez, and my partner is Julio Jimenez. Mr. Derringer sent us to provide for your security while you're in Honduras. We can also translate for you if the need arises.”

Rip nodded. “Call me Chuck.”

Carlos nodded and repeated, “Chuck.” He turned to Tracie. “Mrs. Gideon, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

Tracie took the man's hand and shook it. “Please, I'm Phyllis. And it's nice to meet you, as well.”

The men who'd brought them from the airplane jumped into the Jeeps and kicked up gravel as they spun out of the driveway and away to their posts, leaving the four of them alone.

Gripping Tracie's arm, Rip nodded toward the two men and said, “Let's walk.”

Carlos fell in step with Rip on the opposite side of Tracie. “Hank said you might run into trouble with the guerillas who have taken over this area of Honduras. I'm not certain how much help the two of us will be against an entire army of them.”

“Our host, Hector DeVita, has promised us the use of four of his men. Phyllis and I want to explore opportunities around the town of Colinas Rocosa. There is a plantation near there we want to pay a visit to, and Phyllis is interested in the town itself. If I'm not mistaken, there is a fiesta scheduled for tomorrow. Once we've concluded our business with the plantation owner, we'll join the festivities.”

When they were far enough away from the house, Carlos stopped. “For the record, we're here to help a brother,” he said and lifted his shirt aiming his tight abs toward the moonlight.

For a moment all Rip could see were dark spots across his skin. But as his gaze focused in on them he made out a tattoo of tiny frog footprints.

Rip smiled and relaxed. “I'm glad you're on board.” He held out his hand. Carlos gripped his forearm and nodded solemnly then jerked his head toward Julio who also lifted his shirt and displayed another set of frog prints. Rip extended his arm to him, as well, and they clapped hands on each other's shoulders.

These men were SEALs. Whether they were on active duty or had since separated from the service. But once a SEAL, always a SEAL, and they stood by each other.

Knowing they had his six made him feel better about the mission. When they had a chance to get away from Hector's compound, he'd go into more detail with them. Having established that the men Hank had sent were just what he needed, Rip circled around and headed back toward the house.

“Did Hank send anymore information about the investigation?”

Carlos shook his head. “No. But he has Brandon working hard to find anything that will be of use to us.”

“Good. Hector's men want to meet with us this evening to go over the timing of our travels tomorrow.” Rip turned to Tracie. “I can fill you in on the details later, if you'd like to call it a night?”

Tracie chewed on her lower lip for a moment before nodding. “I'll leave you men to it. I am tired.”

They'd arrived at the front of the hacienda and the steps leading up to the massive wooden front doors.

Rip walked Tracie up to the door and leaned down to touch his lips to hers. “I'll be up as soon as I nail down the details of our expedition tomorrow.” He pressed his lips to the spot just below her earlobe and whispered, “I know you want to come with me.”

“Yes, but you can handle this on your own. I really am tired.”

Rip gazed into her eyes, his brows puckered. Finally, he opened the door for her and she disappeared inside.

He hadn't liked that she'd given in to him so easily. He'd find out what was eating her later, for now, he had work to do.

* * *

N
ORMALLY
T
RACIE
WOULD
have insisted on going with her partner to any planning sessions for the mission they would conduct. But after seeing the camaraderie of the SEAL men, she'd felt like an outsider. With Rip's kiss fresh on her lips and her emotions in a twist over everything that had happened that day, she needed the time alone.

She headed straight for their room and took the opportunity to prepare for bed without Rip making her feel incredibly hot and needy.

Hector's staff had been through the room and removed the dress they'd flung over the camera. Grabbing a lightweight throw blanket, she tossed it over the camera, not in the mood to be on display, now or ever.

Unfortunately, Hank's team had put together the perfect bridal trousseau and the only sleeping garment inside was now spread out across the sheets of the huge bed.

Tracie held up the scraps of material. The incredibly sexy, mostly sheer white teddy sported faux-fur trim around the lower-than-low neckline and where the elastic would stretch along her outer thighs.

How was she supposed to sleep in that? She riffled through drawers of clothing the staff had unpacked from her suitcases and found one dark, long-sleeved T-shirt and a pair of dark jeans, apparently for any night ops they might need to conduct.

Well, it was nighttime and she wasn't sleeping in the faux-fur bit of fluff. Not when Rip would be lying in the bed beside her.

Not only would it tickle her, but every time she moved, she'd be reminded of how close Rip was and how far he'd pushed away from her since the shower.

The teddy was definitely out. She wadded it into a tight ball and shoved it under the pillow, stripped out of her clothes and pulled the T-shirt over her head. It fit her perfectly. Therein lay the problem. It wasn't long enough to cover her bottom. Her pulse pounding, not knowing when Rip would be back in the room, Tracie slipped beneath the sheets and pulled them up over her. The long-sleeved black T-shirt stood out against the crisp white sheets.

A knock on the door made her jump. “Who is it?” she responded, remembering she hadn't locked the door, leaving the lock open for when Rip returned.

“
Pardon, Señora.
It is Dehlia Perez. I have fresh towels for your bath.”

“Just a minute.” Knowing how strange she must look in the black T-shirt, Tracie shucked it, grabbed the white teddy and pulled it over her head, tugging it down over her torso. Shoving the black T-shirt beneath the sheet by her feet, she leaned back against the pillow and pulled the sheet up over her breasts. “Okay, you can come in now.”

The door opened and the maid entered, wearing the powder-blue uniform and carrying a stack of clean, thick white towels. She closed the door behind her and hurried toward the bathroom. When she came back out, she walked directly over to Tracie.

“Bueno?”

“Yes.” Tracie smiled at the woman and willed her to leave so that she could change back into the black T-shirt before Rip returned.
“Gracias.”

Slowly, the woman walked backward, her gaze skimming through the room, looking for anything out of place or needing attention. Her glance shifted to the blanket hanging from the light fixture, but she didn't say anything. She reached the door and opened it.
“Buenos noches, Señora.”

“Good night.” Tracie let go of the breath she'd been holding and listened for the sound of footsteps retreating down the hallway before she reached for the snaps between her legs.

No sooner had her hands dived beneath the sheets, the door opened and Rip stepped in.

Tracie froze as Rip's gaze swept across the faux fur barely covering her nipples.

His nostrils flared as his fingers twisted the lock on the door.

Based on his instant response, Tracie knew the man was interested. Though she wished he'd quit giving her mixed signals.

Too late to trade the teddy for the T-shirt, she pulled the sheet up over the faux fur and the rounded swells of her breasts.

“Woman, you don't know what you're doing to me,” Rip grumbled, low and barely audible.

Nevertheless, Tracie heard him. Her back straightened and she sat up, letting the sheet fall down around her waist. The teddy was so sheer it didn't hide much beneath the soft white fabric.