Navy SEALs Complete Series: 3 Books + 3 Novellas (Tempting Navy SEALs) (96 page)

Being here had nothing to do with protecting the DHS interests in keeping Diego Fuentes alive and upholding their agreement to allow him to escape capture and prosecution. She was here because of Ian. Because of what he made her feel, made her hunger for.

She flicked a look beneath her lashes in Ian’s direction. She could feel his fury even across the distance of the booths separating them.

Of course, the fact that she was sitting with two of his
own suppliers couldn’t be comfortable for him. Or the fact that for the last few days, several of Sorrell’s contacts had made a point to inform her that they knew of her association with the Fuentes cartel heir.

Sorrell knew she was aligned with Ian, and it appeared he believed the McClane heir could become an asset he could use.

“Kira, it was a surprise to see you here after your accident last year.” Martin Missern, the beach boy weapons broker, smiled his most charming smile as icy blue eyes flicked over her bare legs revealed by the bronze stretch silk dress she wore. His gaze then lifted to the now barely noticeable scar close to her shoulder which was revealed by the thin strap that held her dress over her breasts. He and his brother had joined her without invitation based on an introduction made more than a year before.

The bullet she had taken in Atlanta last year in her role as the friend of a senator’s daughter had nearly taken her life. Thankfully, Ian’s and her uncle Jason’s quick responses had saved her. A premier plastic surgeon had removed the unsightful scarring later.

“I was rather surprised myself to be moving so freely,” Kira admitted with a smile. “But Jason has several business interests here that required my presence. And Daniel looks after me.”

Daniel was presently hovering over her like a warning specter from behind her seat. He took his duties as bodyguard very seriously.

“I saw you conversing with Ian Fuentes last week.” Martin finally broached the subject Kira had felt coming for the past half hour. “You are good friends, yes?” His smooth French accent did nothing to fool her. Charming he might well be, rather like a cobra, just waiting for the right moment to strike.

“We’re acquaintances,” she admitted. “We met in Atlanta last year.”

“Ah yes, you are dear friends with Senator Stanton’s
daughter.” Martin nodded as though that point of information were important. “He was a SEAL at that time, was he not?”

“I believe he may have been.” She arched a brow inquisitively. “Though it appears he isn’t one any longer.”

A smile shaped the weapons broker’s full, sensual lips.

“This is true.” He nodded. “He has shaped up his father’s cartel excellently in the past months. He’s giving many of the other cartels a run for their money, quite literally.”

Kira let a sneer shape her lips. “The advantages of knowing how the enemy works, perhaps?” she pointed out, referring to the fact that it was widely known that Ian had worked several missions involving drug and weapons trafficking.

“Ah yes.” Martin smiled. “This was an excellent advantage. Would it be safe then to say that you are not friends? Perhaps friendly enemies?”

“Perhaps.” The smile that shaped her lips was deliberately mysterious. “Why do you care, Martin? The last I heard your import-export business had nothing to do with the cartels. The Fuentes cartel shouldn’t concern you.” The Misserns’ very legal, very profitable business was no more than a front for their weapons cargos.

“Ah, but the Fuentes cartel affects many of us,” Martin’s twin, Josef, pointed out from beside his brother. “It is a well-known fact that Ian Fuentes is shifting his home base from Colombia to Aruba, or perhaps even one of the smaller islands. He wishes to avoid the American and Colombian authorities, yes?”

“Well, he is a deserter. And a drug lord,” she pointed out. “I would guess he’d have to be rather careful. SEALs tend to get a little irked when one of their own turn dirty.”

She was talking the talk, walking the walk, but something inside her felt as though it were splintering. She knew better. Ian was dodging former friends as well as the criminals salivating to see him taken down. He was treading water so deadly, so dangerous, that she wondered how he would escape the consequences. Or even if he could.

He was going it alone, on his own, attempting to identify
and eliminate a terrorist that no one had been able to identify in nearly twenty years of investigations and missions to do just that.

But Ian was in a position no one had ever been in. He owned the cartel Sorrell needed to gain access into the United States. The Fuentes operation had, over the years, managed to create a secure underground operation to move its drugs and people through the United States, into Canada and Mexico.

Two generations of master chess players. Diego Fuentes and his father had begun what Ian was now strengthening. Even the drug enforcement agencies were scratching their heads over how he was managing to bypass their security, their snitches, and their determination to catch him.

Martin Missern glanced past her then, his smile turning smug before he moved the hand resting on the back of the leather booth and brushed a long lock of her black hair over her shoulder, once again revealing the cleavage that the deep cut of her dress left bare.

Kira’s gaze flicked to his hand, then back to his eyes.

“Touch me again, Martin, and you might have a stub where that hand used to be,” she warned as Daniel’s shadow fell over him, causing Martin’s bodyguards to tense as well.

Martin flicked his hand at the goons posing as security and flashed her a rare smile of amusement.

“Fuentes is watching you very carefully, little one,” he said. “Are you certain there is not more than mere friendship that binds you? I have not seen our friend over there so upset over a woman in all the years I have known him.”

And there were a lot of years to back that up. Ian and Martin had clashed more than once, and several times the drug runner had come against the SEAL team Ian had worked with.

“Perhaps it’s indigestion.” She shrugged, refusing to glance back at Ian again. “I’m not here to discuss Ian’s problems, I’m here to enjoy a few drinks. You’re interfering in that.”

A small frown flitted around his brow. “So inhospitable?” he asked. “You confuse me,
ma petite
. The niece of one of the world’s richest men, and you resort to lowering yourself to a traitor and drug cartel owner? How can this be? Surely your tastes are more refined?”

Kira folded her hands in her lap and watched him silently, archly, for long moments.

“Daniel, could you have the valet bring our car around now.” She directed her response to her bodyguard. “Mr. Missern is beginning to bore me.” She moved to slide from the booth.

“
Non, non
, you must not leave yet.” Martin’s hand snapped out, as though to grip her wrist to stop her. A dominant, forceful move backed by enough strength to break her wrist if he wasn’t careful.

Missern was a termite. A shifty little maggot known for manhandling his women.

Before his fingers could wrap around her flesh she had two of his fingers in her hold, pressing back, shocking him into stilling and watching her with narrow-eyed silence.

“You know the rules, Martin,” she reminded him softly. “Don’t touch me, and I won’t touch you.” He flinched as she exerted just enough pressure to assure him she could dislocate the digits before he could make a move for her.

“Kira, little love.” Josef, Martin’s twin, grinned at the exchange. “Release Martin now. He will be a good boy, will you not, Martin?”

Martin’s lip curled as she released him, his brow twitching disdainfully as he glared at her.

“Martin’s temper is growing more testy Josef,” she pointed out. “Are you certain he’s had all his shots?”

“Why, you little bitch.” Martin wasn’t one to take insults lightly from a woman.

Distantly, Kira knew what was coming. She saw the shift of his body, the flash of his hand, and knew there was no way to stop the blow. Even Daniel wasn’t that fast.

But someone else was. A breath away from her cheek,
Martin’s hand stopped abruptly, and Kira was dragged around the booth, sliding on the smooth leather of the seat as Daniel bounded over the back and landed where she had been sitting.

His weapon was in his hand, his expression furious as he stared at the Misserns. Both men had lifted their hands in a gesture of surrender, though triumph filled their faces.

“Get her the fuck out of here!” Ian’s voice snapped at her ear as he pushed her at Daniel. “Now!”

Turning, blazing with fury, she faced a demon she couldn’t have expected and a small crowd of bouncers as they moved in to shelter the altercation. Yep, Coronado’s at its finest. They didn’t care who killed or who died, as long as the customers were shielded from actually witnessing who did the killing.

“Take your hands off me!” She jerked her arm from his grip. “And go to hell. I don’t need you or anyone else rescuing me.”

Hard hands gripped her upper arms, jerking her close, as his head lowered, his nose nearly touching hers, anger flowing from him like waves of heat.

“Don’t push me, Kira,” he bit out. “You won’t like the consequences.”

“Push you, Mr. Fuentes?” she questioned him vehemently. “I have no intention of doing anything so crass. But if you don’t let me go you’re going to lose a fine set of balls.”

“How very interesting,” Josef called out gleefully. “Have you met your match, Fuentes? The drug lord and the society princess. Now, who would have guessed at such a match?”

She saw the second Ian realized the mistake he had made in defending her, just as she realized how carefully Martin Missern had played this little debacle. It was well known that Kira did not tolerate men touching her without her permission, and he had deliberately touched her at every chance once he and his brother had joined her in the curved booth.

He had touched and pushed, and taken the opportunity to force Ian to show his hand. Because of something he had heard, something he had been paid to instigate? Or because someone knew something more?

Ian’s head lifted, and when he stared back at Martin, his voice was cold, deadly. “We have a meeting tomorrow,” he reminded the other man.

“We do,” Martin answered smugly.

“Let your brother handle it. If I see you again, I’ll put a bullet between your eyes. Do you understand me?”

“You will deal with me or you will not purchase the supplies you need.” Martin laughed. “Come now, Ian, why allow a little society tramp such as this one to affect business?”

Pure murder burned in Ian’s eyes then. Kira tensed at the icy fire, her heart racing in fear now.

“Consider that meeting canceled,” Ian said softly. “You’re not the only supplier. And you won’t be alive long enough to provide anything I need.”

Tightening his hand on her arm, he began dragging Kira through the crowd, ruthlessly ignoring her struggles and her curses.

She glanced over her shoulder at Daniel as he covered the rear, keeping his gaze carefully on the Missern brothers who had stood and now watched their departure, their expressions a mix of anger and concern.

“Hummer’s waiting at the door, boss,” Deke announced as he and another bodyguard cleared the way through the dance floor.

“Trevor, you and Cristo ride with her bodyguard. We’ll meet at the villa.”

“Which villa?” one of those other bodyguards called back.

“Mine!”

“Like hell,” Kira protested loudly. Not that he seemed to be listening to her. “You can take me to my villa or let go of me now.”

He ignored her, of course.

Stumbling, she fought to tear herself out of his grip, only to feel the world tip and sway. A second later she was fighting the knowledge that Ian had thrown her over his shoulder like a sack of damned potatoes. At least he had the presence of mind to wrap his arm around her thighs and hopefully hide the fact that she wasn’t wearing panties tonight.

“You bastard!” She tried to ram her elbow into his kidney, only to earn a hard, burning slap to her ass.

Oh no. He hadn’t just smacked her butt. He wouldn’t dare.

“I’ll kill you myself,” she screamed, trying to deliver another blow, only to earn another burning caress as they passed the exit.

She hated him. She hated him. She was going to kill him herself. Oh God, just as soon as she fucked him. Just as soon as the burning, tearing arousal echoing from those slaps eased just enough for her to figure out
how
to kill him.

“Get in there.” An instant later she was bouncing on another leather seat. That of the extended Hummer, whose posh limolike facing seats, separated from the front driver’s area, were a testament to the amount of money the Fuentes cartel had to burn.

Anger and arousal surged through her blood as she jumped for him. A week of aching pain, too many nightmares, and too many fears converged. The vehicle door slammed behind him as her fists struck his chest. His hands gripped her wrists, his larger body slammed her back to the seat, and within a second his lips were on hers, his body covering hers, his hands stroking, his knee parting her thighs, his groan meeting her moans as lust exploded between them.

She wasn’t lost any more. It was her first thought as his lips ground into hers and he anchored her body against his. She wasn’t lost, she wasn’t reaching, she wasn’t trying to fill the sudden emptiness inside her any longer. Ian was filling it. He was her match. The one man she couldn’t defeat. The other half of her soul.

Her fingers curled as she strained against the grip he had on her. Her hips arched, pressing her sex tighter against the silk slacks he wore, loving the feel of his knee pressing into her.

His lips were devouring hers. Lips, teeth, tongue, he made good use of them all. He nipped and licked, stroked and consumed her. He fired responses in her that she didn’t know she possessed, didn’t know she could feel.

She was the female equivalent of his dominant force. She should be trying to claw his eyes out, not riding his knee with lusty hunger. And she sure as hell shouldn’t be creaming so hard that the bare flesh of her pussy was dampening his slacks.