Her Three Protectors [The Hot Millionaires #3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (25 page)

“Just leave it,” Troy said when Porcha tried to administer help. “Get me somewhere safe then we’ll sort it. It’s not terminal.”

Porcha wasn’t so sure, but Troy’s eyelids were drooping, he was clearly exhausted, and she was so relieved to have him back that she didn’t argue. As an ex-nurse, she was well aware of the restorative powers of sleep and supported his head on her shoulder for the duration of the trip back to Jupiter.

Beck drove just as fast on the return journey, and as soon as they arrived, Porcha marched Troy into the master suite, stripped off his clothes, and went to work on him. Adam picked up his stinky clothing and disposed of it. He and Beck then stood back and let her get on with it.

“This wound needs stitches,” she said. “We should have stayed at that hospital.”

“No hospital,” they said in unison.

“They’d recognize it as a gunshot wound, which would mean police, dah-de-dah,” Adam explained.

“You stitch it, babe,” Troy said drowsily.

“But, I don’t—I can’t. You’d need an anesthetic.”

“He’s a big boy.” Beck’s grin told them that he was back to his old, irrepressible self. Even so, his cover was blown because, he’d made a poor job of disguising just how concerned he’d been about Troy, and Porcha would have fun later teasing him about that. “He can take it.”

“Well, all right then, but don’t blame me if you finish up with ugly scars on that gorgeous body of yours.”

“Hey, you never tell me my body’s gorgeous,” Beck said, affecting hurt.

“Those who ask don’t get.”

Porcha set to work. Troy hissed a few times, but apart from that he showed no reaction at all as she stitched his flesh back together in two places. He was pale, pain was etched in his features, but he really was a tough guy. Once she was done, she wrapped plastic round his upper arm.

“I’m afraid you really do have to hit the shower before you can sleep,” she told him. “You smell like you’ve been in a Dumpster.”

“That would be because I have.”

“It’s not the smell that bothers me,” she said, “but the dirt could lead to infection. You’ve got a load of small cuts on your abdomen.”

“That’s what crawling through ceiling ducts does to a person.” Troy looked dead on his feet but gamely tried to stand up. Adam gave him a hand. “Come on then, nurse, lead me to the shower.”

“I’ll join you,” she said, stripping off.

“Hey,” Beck protested.

“He can’t wash himself.” Porcha smiled sweetly at Beck. “Would you like to give him a hand?”

“Point taken,” he said, grinning as he stepped back.

“Hell no!” Troy said at the same time. “You think I’d trust him anywhere near my delicate regions?”

Porcha chuckled. “That’s what I thought.”

Naked, she guided Troy toward the huge shower stall and switched on the water. She soaped him all over, and Troy actually sighed with pleasure. Hot water and getting clean appeared to revive him. Feeling light-headed with relief that they were all safe, she impishly took her time soaping his genitalia with a large sponge, repeatedly wiping it back and forth across his balls.

“Porcha!” Troy placed a hand on her arm. “I don’t want you to think I’m complaining, but I really don’t think I could manage it right now.”

She dropped the sponge, stood upright, and wrapped her arms carefully round his neck. “I thought I’d lost you, Troy,” she said, her voice breaking as the emotion she’d been holding in check came pouring out faster than the water poured over their heads. “You put your life on the line for me and almost died.”

“Hey,” he said, wrapping his good arm round her waist. “That’s what I do.”

“No one’s ever tried to protect me like that before. My brave husband actually tried to save his own miserable neck by dropping me in it.”

“Ah, but if he hadn’t, we wouldn’t have met.”

“Don’t make light of this, Troy.” She tapped a finger lightly against his chest. “I want you to know how much I appreciate what you’ve done.”

Troy kissed her. “It’s okay, babe. It’s all over now, and we won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.”

Porcha didn’t understand how he could make such a promise but didn’t press the point.

“I love you, Troy,” she said simply, dropping her head on his chest. “I don’t know how it’s happened, but I love you all.”

“What, even Beck?”

“Of course.”

“Well, we love you, too.” He captured her lips in a drugging kiss. “Where have you been all our lives?”

Porcha pulled herself together. She had given way to temptation in a weak moment but couldn’t afford to indulge her vulnerable side indefinitely.

“We need to get you into bed,” she said, turning off the shower and reaching for a towel.

She dried him off and then herself, unwrapped the waterproof protector from his arm, dosed him with painkillers, and tucked him into bed. He appeared to fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

“I’ll stay with him,” Porcha said, heading for the opposite side of the bed, “just in case he needs me.”

“We need you,” Beck said, playing the fool again.

“Your time will come, big boy,” she said, pausing to kiss both him and Adam before climbing in next to Troy.

* * * *

Troy woke with the dawn, feeling battered, bruised, and lucky to be alive. It had been a close one. He glanced at the sleeping Porcha and died a little inside. Had she told him that she loved him or was that just wishful thinking? Well of course it damned well was! Why would a classy lady like her want anything to do with a has-been soldier like him—like them? He ran a finger along her hip, and her eyes instantly flew open.

“Are you all right?” She leaned up on one elbow, her tits dangling below her, and reached out a hand to touch his brow. “What do you need?”

“You.”

“Troy, you’ve been badly hurt.”

“Hmm, I can think of a good way to make the pain go away.”

“You’re in pain. Where does it hurt?”

“Right here.” He took her hand and guided it to his erection. “Think you can do anything about that swelling, nurse?”

“Well, I’m not sure. Perhaps it needs washing.” She ran her tongue across her lips, making it clear what she intended to do the washing with. “What do you think?”

His chuckle sounded as lethal as he now felt. “You’re the professional health caregiver, so I’ll be guided by you.”

“That’s right, I am.” She dropped a light kiss on his lips. “So you’d best place yourself in my hands.”

“Now
there’s
a prospect to conjure with.”

Porcha slid down his body, obviously taking care not to touch his cuts and bruises, and took his prick in her mouth. His sharp intake of breath lent nothing to pain as she sucked him deeper, gently agitating his balls as her tongue went to work. Troy closed his eyes and let her do whatever the hell she liked with those magical lips of hers. He’d earned this one.

The door opened just as he bucked to a climax in her mouth.

“No need to ask how the patient’s doing,” Beck said cheerfully. “I found you some fresh clothes,” he added. “Not that you appear to need any right now.”

“Morning, Beck.” Porcha lifted her head and wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

“Morning, darling.” He bent to kiss her. “Is that all part of your bedside technique?”

“It’s the first thing they teach you at English nursing school. Far cheaper than prescription drugs.”

“I can vouch for its authenticity.” Troy sat up and winced. “Damned arm’s still stiff.”

Beck grinned. “Unlike the rest of you.”

A short time later, Porcha joined Adam and Beck in the kitchen. Adam had taken over and produced breakfast, which Woollard joined them for.

“Glad to see you’re okay,” he said to Troy, appearing to mean it.

Adam waved a fork at him. “Tell us how you got away.”

Troy gave them an abbreviated version.

“Sanchez-Punto’s guards aren’t very vigilant,” Beck observed.

“No, I wouldn’t like to be in their shoes right now,” Troy agreed. “First Porcha and then I got past them.”

“What are we gonna do about him?” Adam asked. “He won’t let up, and now he has us in his sights, too. He’s obviously a guy with a long memory who knows how to bear a grudge.”

“It would help if we had some idea how he intended to get this last load of diamonds in,” Troy said.

“I wish I could help.” Woollard spread his hands. “But I honestly don’t have a clue.”

The internal house phone rang. Woollard stood up to answer it, asked a few curt questions, and then told the caller to let the delivery through.

“I’d forgotten about that,” he said, sitting back at the table.

“About what?” asked several voices.

“Sal was celebrating his return to the paths of legitimacy—”

“Not that he’d ever occupied them in the first place,” Beck pointed out.

“Whatever, he was marking the occasion by buying Porcha a car. He wanted her to be able to go out alone and just have fun driving. The car was to be your birthday present,” he added, glancing at her.

“It’s your birthday?” Troy, Adam, and Beck asked together.

“Tomorrow.”

“Let’s go see what your perverted husband bought you.”

They trouped outside in time to see a bright yellow Porsche 911 convertible come to a stop outside the front door. The delivery guy gave Woollard something to sign and disappeared into the car that had followed him in.

Troy shared a glance with his two buddies.

“Now we know what Sal was really trying to say,” he said.

Woollard shook his head. “What do you mean?”

“The guy you captured who’d been in on the interrogation of Sal told you he kept repeating two words over and over, right?”

“Yes,
Porcha
and
hidden
.”

“Exactly. He wasn’t saying Porcha knew where the stones were hidden,” Troy explained. “He didn’t drop her in it at all. He was saying that they were hidden in the Porsche.”

Porcha gasped. “I’m guessing you’re right.” She paused. “I’m glad.”

Troy touched her shoulder. “Get the car into the garage,” he said to Woollard. “If there are diamonds hidden anywhere in the bodywork it won’t take Beck long to find them.”

An hour later, Beck reported that the car was clean. “But there
was
something hidden in the door panels,” he said, washing his hands to remove the grease from them as he spoke. “The screws had been put back in a hurry and hadn’t been tightened up properly.”

“Which doesn’t help us much,” Adam said gloomily.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Troy fell into a kitchen chair, and the others, including Woollard, joined him. “Do we know when that car arrived in the country?”

“It usually takes between one and two weeks to clear stuff through all the channels.”

“So, Sal’s tame port man would have nodded the car through before word of Sal’s death hit the news.”

“And once he knew he was dead, he reckoned to take a little look-see and helped himself,” Beck added.

“That’s how I see it.”

“Then we’re still back to square one,” Porcha pointed out.

“Not necessarily.” Troy turned toward Woollard. “Are you serious in that you only want to be involved with Sal’s legitimate businesses?”

“They belong to Porcha now.”

“I don’t want anything to do with them.” She flicked a half smile at Woollard. “Be my guest.”

“We can talk about that later. If I run them then you deserve a cut of the profits, not to mention this house and all Sal’s other assets.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I shall leave here with a suitcase full of clothes and nothing more. You’re his son. It’s all yours. I intend to make a new start. I don’t want a life that’s built on the profits from other people’s misery.” Adam was seated beside Porcha, and she reached for his hand. “I should have listened to Georgio and given Sal a wide berth.”

“Sal
was
trying to give you more freedom by going legitimate,” Beck said.

“No, I’m sure he wasn’t. He was very good at flamboyant gestures, but I would still have been as firmly under his control as ever. Woollard’s mother escaped him, and he wasn’t going to let that happen a second time.” She expelled a long breath. “He had me well trained, and although I hated what he made me do, it was as though he’d got inside my head and I couldn’t seem to fight against him.”

Troy smiled across the table at her. “What I’m trying to say is that Sanchez-Punto wanted to muscle in on Sal’s diamond-smuggling business. Well, we might not be able to give him the diamonds, but we can give him a list of all Sal’s contacts, the people along the line who made it happen.” He glanced at Woollard, who nodded in agreement. “We can also tell him who we think has the diamonds that were in the Porsche. It’ll be up to him what he does about that.”

“And we give him all that in return for leaving us alone.”