mine. One thing is for damned sure,
it's not going to be anything you expect. Count on that and
wear a protective cup in the process. Because
that woman will end up busting all our balls if we give her
so much as half a chance."
Deke had no idea the trouble Kira Porter could cause. But
Ian did; he knew and he didn't like the
anticipation throbbing in his cock at the thought of it.
"So where do you go with her from here?" Deke
asked.
Ian shook his head. "I'll catch up with her tomorrow
night. Let her play for now. Let her think she's
safe."
His jaw clenched at the suspicious look Deke shot him. He
knew the other man wondered just how
deeply Ian was letting this life affect him. And Ian
admitted, it was damned deep. Sometimes, he didn't
recognize himself or what he had become.
"Your mother called again," Deke finally told
him. "You have several messages on your personal
machine."
Ian stilled. Marika Richards had no idea of the game her
son was playing, and the pain he knew she was
feeling cut at his soul.
She had nearly given up her life for him countless times
when he was a child, fighting to keep him away
from Carmelita Fuentes's murderous hands. Diego's now
deceased wife had hunted them like animals for
ten years, before Ian's stepfather, John Richards, had
found them.
For a moment, just a moment, he let himself remember his
mother's smile. No matter how frightened he
knew she had been, she had always found a way to smile at
him, to promise him that all things pass:
anger, pain, danger.
Be the best you can
be, Ian. Be strong and brave, and know you're being just. That's all that
matters. Know you're
being just .
Those words whispered through his mind and sliced at his
heart. He knew she wouldn't see what he was
doing as just. She would never condone him killing the
father who had nearly destroyed both of them so
many years ago.
Sometimes, though, a man had to do what was necessary to
protect the just, the innocent. Too many
lives were held in the balance now. Sorrell and Diego
Fuentes both would have to die.
But first, he had to find Kira Porter and make damned
certain she left Aruba. How the hell was a man
supposed to destroy the monsters of the world when he knew
a delicate bit of satin and lace was going
to stand in his way? And she was there to stand in his way.
He knew it. He could feel it. And he would
be damned if he was going to allow it.
Three
HE WAS THERE. SHE KNEWhe was.
The moment Kira stepped out of the elevator of her hotel
that evening she knew Ian was waiting in her
room. Her breasts hardened, her nipples peaked against the
thin leather bustier covering them, and her
body came alive with instant, blazing heat.
It wasn't any particular premonition. She would have liked
to say she could just feel him. The truth was it
was the presence of the bodyguard leaning casually against
the wall several feet from her door that clued
her in.
Deke Santiago. Age thirty-six, married once, widower. A
dishonorably discharged Ranger.
Dishonorable because he had nearly killed his commanding
officer for screwing his then wife.
The court-martial had earned him a year in Leavenworth
because he couldn't prove the adultery. There,
he had met up with one of Diego Fuentes's lieutenants; four
years later he had flown into Colombia and
begun his life of apparent crime.
She paused as the elevator doors closed behind her, flicked
a long swath of black hair over her
shoulder, and sighed with an edge of irritation, aware of
the security cameras trained on her. She had an
appearance to maintain. That of bored socialite and thrill
seeker. Anyone searching for information would
check security cameras. She knew, because it was something
she did.
She moved along the hall, ignoring him. That's what she did
with bodyguards, she pretended to ignore
them. Her own, Daniel Calloway, was proof of that.
"I won't need you to check the room tonight,
Daniel," she informed him as they neared his