Navy SEALs Complete Series: 3 Books + 3 Novellas (Tempting Navy SEALs) (104 page)

“Did the team tell you what that code word means?” He didn’t blink, his eyes didn’t burn. They chilled her to the bone.

“They told me,” she admitted, wondering if she was hurting or harming her cause with the admission.

Emotion flickered in the back of his eyes then.

“And you came anyway?” His lips flattened with the first sign of emotion. Anger sparked in his gaze. “Have you lost your fucking mind, Kira?”

Had she? No, he was just that important to her. And when exactly he had become that important to her she wasn’t really certain.

“Would you leave me in this battle alone?” she asked him instead. “If you stumbled into this situation and learned the danger I was in, would you walk away from me, Ian?”

“That’s different.” More emotion. A tinge of stubborn determination and a flash of latent hunger.

“How’s that different?” She leaned forward, her chest tightening with emotions she was still trying to make sense of. “How’s it different that you couldn’t walk away from me, but you expect me to walk away from you?”

“You’re a woman.” He cleared his throat then grimaced at the unconscious flash of nervousness he would have known she saw in that action. “You don’t desert a woman in trouble.”

“But I wouldn’t believe I was in trouble,” she told him. “I’m a trained agent. I would believe I was handling it fine
myself. That I didn’t need you to protect me. Why would you want to stick your nose into it?”

And why did she need him to admit that he cared more for her than he would any other female agent that his male chauvinism would insist he help? She was the fool he called her if she needed that. Because Ian Fuentes wasn’t a man who let himself get involved emotionally with many people. She knew he loved his mother. He respected his stepfather, and he had sworn his life to Nathan Malone after the preteen Nathan had been instrumental in saving Ian’s mother’s life.

From what she had learned, Ian had a team bond with the other SEALs of the group he had fought with. He respected them, he would have died for them. And he protected them, as he was protecting them now.

He was an island unto himself, the team had revealed. Friendships were all work related, and female relationships lasted only weeks. Ian scratched an itch, nothing more, when it came to those women that he so easily walked away from.

The only thing that had given her hope was the knowledge that Ian
knew
her. No matter her disguise, no matter her persona, he could see through it. It took more than a good eye to do that. And it took more than a good eye for a man to walk away from scratching his itch as he had the night when he slipped into her condo.

She had made him feel something that night. She knew she had. She had been watching his eyes at the same moment she had realized herself that Ian could touch her as no other man ever had.

“You’re not answering me, Ian. Why would you help me even if I felt I didn’t need your help?” Strike while they’re weak. Jason had drilled that into her since she was ten years old, but somehow, she had a feeling he hadn’t envisioned this situation.

She slid from her seat, lowered herself to the soft carpet of the floor between them, and wedged herself between his thighs.

And he hadn’t expected that. But she hadn’t expected it of herself either. Something softened that she hadn’t known was hard inside her. She was a woman rather than an agent. A lover rather than a weapon. And the transition was so natural, so freeing, that for the first time in her life, she was beginning to wonder exactly who she was as well.

“Y
OU
’
RE TOO QUIET NOW,
”
SHE
murmured, her hands sliding up the insides of his thighs then along his tight abs to his chest.

“I would have still tried to protect you.” He swallowed, the movement tight, tense. As tight and tense as the muscles beneath her hand. And his eyes were warming, darkening.

“Why would you have done that, Ian? That’s my question. Because you’re a chauvinist, or because of something more?”

He surprised her when he reached out, trailing his fingers down her cheek, and said somberly, “I am a chauvinist, Kira. I need to protect you.”

“And I need to be here with you, Ian.” It was all she could do to keep her voice from shaking, her eyes from filling with tears. “I need to watch your back.”

“What the hell am I going to do with you?” He pressed his forehead against hers as he framed her face with his hands and stared down at her as though confused by her. “I know what I’m doing here. I can work this better alone.”

“And do without this?” Her lips touched his, smoothed over them before she allowed her tongue to peek between her lips and dampen the male curves. “Why should either of us do without, Ian? I can help you. And I can . . . satisfy you.”
Love you
. Those words had almost escaped past her lips. They did send a surge of heat and fear rushing through her.

Did she love him? Was that why she couldn’t let him go? Good Lord, when could something like that have happened?

“You can only distract me,” he growled, but his lips were still whispering over hers. His tongue touched hers. His teeth caught her bottom lip and nipped erotically. She shouldn’t have felt such pleasure from a simple caress, yet it streaked through her senses and sent heat curling through her womb.

“Only when you need to be distracted.” Her hand curled around his neck, fingers sliding into his hair, holding him to her as her lips parted further beneath his.

Unfortunately, he didn’t take the offered kiss or satisfy her need for his taste. One hand gripped her hair and pulled her head back enough for her to glimpse the knowing light in his eyes.

“I’m not such a pervert that you can distract me with sex in the limo, Kira,” he assured her, amusement mixing with irritation. “And this was a serious conversation we were attempting to have.”

“Since when?” She rolled her eyes in mocking exasperation. “All I’m hearing are warnings and dire threats. Chill out, Ian. I make a damned good partner if I say so myself. You should really consider yourself lucky to have me.”

A frown jerked between his brows, but before he could speak the door beside him was pulled open. Before Kira could react herself, Ian pushed her back, jerked his weapon from his side, crouching in front of Kira, the barrel of the gun locked beneath Deke’s chin.

“Protein,” Deke wheezed, his tanned face paling. “Thought you knew we stopped.”

Kira peeked over Ian’s shoulder at the small covered silver tray. She could smell coffee and bacon and she was hoping against hope there were fluffy eggs under there as well.

Ian eased the gun back as she pushed past him, took the tray, and flashed Deke a smile.

“He’s touchy, huh? I told him to chill out.”

Deke cleared his throat. “Brought you breakfast as well, boss.” He rubbed his neck as he pulled back, reached behind him, and accepted another tray. Leaning forward, he placed it in the seat across from Ian. After delivering the food he moved back quickly and closed the door. A few seconds later the vehicle restarted and was moving once again.

“She sat back, uncovered her tray, and inhaled in satisfaction when she saw the mound of fluffy scrambled eggs awaiting her. Coffee, no cream or sugar. A pile of bacon, two homemade biscuits, a dish of jam, and silverware.

“Almost like home,” she murmured. “Why haven’t I found this place during my visits here?”

“Veronick doesn’t do breakfast for just anyone,” Ian snapped. “Goddamn, Kira, you didn’t even realize the fucking car had stopped.”

Kira dug her fork into the fluffy eggs. “Of course I did. And so did you.”

She watched his expression from the shield of her lashes. God, she was loving this. Loving sparring with him, confronting him, pushing him.

He stared back at her in bemused irritation. “How the hell do you figure that?”

She sighed, swallowed, then pointed her fork at him. “I felt it. You tensed, your eyes dilated, then you slowly relaxed. You knew. Deke just caught you off guard when he opened the door.”

He dropped his head back, stared up at the ceiling as though he were praying, and breathed out roughly. “You’re going to drive me crazy.”

“Of course not.” She gave him a rather delicate snort. “But I might be able to teach you to have a little bit of fun. Did I mention you had grown rather prickly over the last eight months? You used to know how to have fun, Ian.”

He used to know what fun was, anyway.

“I used to know better than to involve myself in operations with you,” he bit out. “You’re dangerous, you’re
reckless, and I swear to God I’ve never met a woman that needed tying down for her own safety more than you do.”

She widened her eyes. “Wow. Been holding that in for a while, Ian?”

She had to suppress a smile. He wasn’t angry, at least not at her. She was affecting him, and she knew that affecting Ian wasn’t an easy thing to do. She hadn’t expected him to handle it nearly this well. He hadn’t tied her to his bed while he went about his business; she considered that a major step in the right direction.

“Tonight, you’re spanked,” he informed her darkly. “Spanked until you scream for more, Kira.”

“That’s punishment?” she asked with a grin as a shiver of anticipation raced up her spine. She could handle that.

“No.” He shook his head slowly. “That’s my reward for not strangling you.”

J
OSEF MISSERN WAS AT HIS
most charming. He stepped into the limo, taking the rear-facing seat and staring across the short distance at Ian and Kira. A sly smile curled the Frenchman’s lips and lit his light blue eyes.

“Ah, how nice to see you again, Ms. Porter,” he greeted her. “As lovely as a sunrise and as deceptive as the oceans.” He chuckled. “You are a fitting mate to one such as he.” He nodded to Ian with a sharp movement of his white-blond head.

“Let’s get down to business, Missern.” Ian’s voice hardened at the obvious flirtation in the other man’s voice. If Ian hadn’t wanted to kill him before, he wanted to kill him now. “Would you like to tell me the connection you have to Sorrell?”

The slightest dilation in Josef’s eyes assured Ian he wasn’t off the mark.

“We are here to discuss weapons, my friend.” Josef smiled easily once again. “I am willing to make you a one-time deal at a wholesale price in apology for the assassin
that showed up at our meeting, as well as the strike Martin would have taken at our fair Miss Porter. His games are sometimes not always understood by those who do not know him.”

“And the assassin? Was he a game as well?” Ian asked coldly.

“He was an unknown variable.” Josef sighed as though in regret. “We did not know he was there.”

“Let’s cut the shit, Missern,” Ian snapped. “You knew, because you told Sorrell about the meeting. Just as Martin’s attempt to strike Kira was a move designed to draw our relationship out into the open.”

Josef’s sensual lips pursed in amusement. “The information came to us by an anonymous source that told of your connection in Atlanta, and here as well. It seems you have other eyes watching you, my friend.”

“And you report your tips concerning me to your good friend Sorrell,” Ian suggested. “It’s a very dangerous way to live, Josef.”

“I did not relay this tip, Ian.” Josef shook his head firmly. “Rather, I received it from a source that paid a hefty amount to have the connection proven.” He spread his palms upward. “It was a business transaction. Yes?”

“Or your death warrant.” Ian dropped his voice to a guttural suggestion, aware of Kira’s subtle tension beside him and Missern’s flash of fear before he covered it.

“We are men of business, Ian.” Josef shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “This is what I have enjoyed in our dealings together. You understand the value of the dollar over the stains of blood. I am here to make amends for these things. I do not wish to war with the Fuentes cartel.”

Ian tilted his head and stared back at Josef mockingly before he turned and stared out the window of the car instead. There, Trevor was landing the specially modified helicopter just as planned.

“Ian?” Josef questioned him curiously. “Is there a problem?”

“Order your men down, Josef,” he ordered as the Missern bodyguards turned their weapons on the helicopter. “You’re in no danger. You have my word on it.”

Josef watched him closely but pulled his cell phone from the pocket of his jacket and hit the keypad.

“Pull back,” he said into the receiver as his gaze clashed with Ian’s. “We have his word no harm will come.”

Ian let a smile tug at his lips at the unspoken trust. He had learned that even here, in this world, a man was judged by his word.

“I’ve exacted my payment for Martin’s attempt to touch what belongs to me,” he told Josef as he held Josef’s gaze. “I’ll also accept a hundred M-16s at wholesale price, three grenade launchers, and an amount of ammo to be determined once I return to the villa and discuss our needs with Diego.”

Josef blinked back at him. “Quite a bit of apology, wouldn’t you say?”

“Consider yourself lucky.” Ian lowered the window beside him and nodded toward the helicopter. A door slid open, and the instantly recognizable form of Martin Missern tumbled from the side. He struggled to his feet, his swollen, bloodied face staring in weak bemusement at the limo as several of the bodyguards rushed for him.

“What the hell is this?
Mon Dieu
, what have you done to him?” Josef’s hand went to the door only to have his wrist caught by Ian’s, twisted, and his body jerked around until his face was pressed into the leather seat as he bellowed in pain.

“He’s alive,” Ian snarled, tamping down his regret that Kira was here. That she was seeing him as he was. “I should have killed him, Josef. Next time, I’ll kill both of you.”

He leaned over the arms dealer’s body, his head next to Missern’s, his eyes glaring into the light blue pain-ridden gaze of the other man.

“The next time Sorrell wants information, the next time he wants you to strike out at what’s mine, remember this.
And remember, next time I’ll beat the life out of you myself. I don’t think you want that, do you?”