Killer Secrets (24 page)

balustrade of the railing. "He's a fully grown male,
Kira, he can take care of himself."

"That's not the point."

"It's very much the point. Keep trying to protect and
control him, and he'll turn on you."

She stared back up at him in shock. "I'm doing no such
thing."

For a moment, his expression was hesitant, then it smoothed
out and became determined, assured.

"Yes, you are. And he won't like it. He's pissed
you're in this to begin with. He believes it's his job to

protect you. To keep you out of harm's way. This isn't a
man who can accept the danger you live with.

Remember that. Ian will always believe it's his duty to
stand in the line of fire and your duty to patch up

the wounds whether you like it or not."

And she didn't like it, not in the least, but she had a
feeling Daniel was right. Ian wasn't very accepting at

all of the fact that Martin Missern had attempted to do no
more than strike her the night before. Hell, she

had taken worse than that on a New York City street by a
would-be mugger.

Her lips pressed together firmly as she crossed her arms
over her breasts and stared at the wooden floor

of the balcony before lifting her head and giving him her
lips to read as she whispered. "If you know

where they are, you better warn them. He knows they're
here."

And he knew. He hadn't outright lied to her, but she knew
him well enough to know he would continue

the evasive double-talk to protect that knowledge.

He nodded slowly before asking in a soft voice, "What
are you going to do when he sends me packing,

Kira?"

"Accept it." Ian's voice was throttled with fury.

Kira whirled around, staring back at his shirtless body
framed in the balcony entrance, his dark eyes lit

with burgundy depths, his expression tight, controlled.

"Daniel isn't going anywhere," she informed him
as he stepped out, pacing closer to them, dressed in

nothing more than white slacks and anger.

Muscle rippled beneath dark flesh, flexing powerfully as he
stepped closer to her, his gaze hard.

"He leaves today or you risk his life," he
informed her coldly. "There are no neutral parties here, Kira.

Do you understand me?"

"Daniel's loyal to me, Ian," she snapped.
"This is not negotiable."

"You made it negotiable when you stuck your nose in my
business," he growled, his eyes going to

Daniel. "I want you to leave."

"Ian—"

"No, Kira, he's right." Daniel laid his hand on
her arm, his expression suddenly somber. "Your loyalty

might not be questioned, but mine will be. I won't be
accepted here."

It wasn't the first time she had been forced to work
without her bodyguard, it wouldn't be the last, but

that didn't mean she had to like it.

"He would be an asset here, Ian," she gritted
out.

He shook his head slowly, his gaze coming back to hers, his
eyes cold. "He would be a witness. Those

aren't tolerated. Do you understand me?"

And she did understand. The servant that had been killed in
the Fuentes household that week, her body

buried, forever out of sight, reminded her of it. Diego
Fuentes had killed a child because she had

betrayed Ian, and ordered the death of another. One whom
Ian had had slipped quietly off the island and

to the States. One had betrayed, the other had been a
witness and a danger to the Fuentes cartel that Ian

knew would never survive on her own.

Tracking the rumor of the death and learning the events
behind it hadn't been easy. Ian covered his

tracks too damned well. And he was covering Diego's just as
well now.

SHE FELT HER HEART RACEin her chest, a chill chasing up her
spine as she searched his eyes and

fought against the truth of the life he was facing.

"I'll return to the villa," Daniel said softly.
"You can reach me at any time on the secure cell if you need

me." His hand gripped her shoulder as she stared up at
Ian, barely feeling his comforting touch. "I'll let

Jase know you're okay."

"Keep him away from here, Daniel." Ian jerked his
gaze back to the bodyguards. "Far away from here.

And while you're at it, keep any other friends or alliances
you might have out of my sight. I don't have

time to separate suspected enemies from true enemies. And I
have all the friends I need right now."

With that, he reached out, gripped Kira's arm, and jerked
her to him, away from Daniel's touch. She

bounced against his chest, pressing her hands against the
solid wall of muscle as she stared up at him in

surprise.

"No other man touches you." The muscle in his jaw
flexed in fury. "As long as you sleep in my bed, you

belong to me."

Possessiveness sizzled in his voice, shocking her even more
than the move to jerk her to him had.

Shocked her, and strangely, aroused her.

The research she had on him hadn't indicated a possessive
nature with women. He rarely had close

relationships, and chose his lovers with finicky precision
for their submissiveness and lack of possessive

tendencies.

Her head jerked around and she stared back at Daniel. He
stood silently, watching them, his gaze

narrowed thoughtfully.

"Tell him to leave, Kira." Ian was adamant.

She breathed out heavily. "Go back to the villa,"
she told Daniel. "I'll be okay."

"Get out of Aruba," Ian ordered.

"Ian, that's not necessary," she hissed.

"Disappear, Daniel." He ignored her protest.
"Do you understand me?"

The threat in his tone was clear. Shocking.

"Ian—"

"You chose me." Ice formed in his voice and in
his expression. "You chose to side with me. That choice

comes with a price, Kira. I won't accept more innocent
blood on my hands than I have to. Do you

understand me?" His eyes moved back to Daniel.

Daniel nodded slowly as he flashed Kira a warning look.
"I understand, Ian."

"This is insane. No one will believe he just deserted
me." She whirled on Ian furiously. "You can't just

order him away like this. What about backup?"

"Do you want him dead?" Ian snarled. "Stop
arguing with me, Kira. Here and now. Because as God is

my witness your life just might well depend on it. There's
no backup here for a reason. Do you

understand me? It's too fucking dangerous."

He didn't give her a chance to protest further. Gripping
her arm tighter he pulled her back into his

bedroom, only releasing her when the door closed behind
them so he could turn back to secure it.

As he turned back to her, her lips opened to argue, to
blast him for the high-handed decisions he was

making. Before the sound could emerge he had his hand over
her lips and his head next to hers.

"Listen to me." His voice was a furious hiss at
her ear. "Seven days ago a nineteen-year-old child was

murdered in front of my eyes because she was deemed a
threat to me. A bullet right through her fucking

head, Kira." Agonized fury echoed in the lowered tone.
"Do you want him to die? Do you want to die?"

His fingers curled in her hair, pulling her head back, his
gaze blazing into hers as she stared back at him

in bitter awareness of what his life had become.

"Don't make me force you to disappear." One hand
framed her jaw as his expression twisted in grief.

"God, please, Kira, don't make me do that."

His lips covered hers before she could speak. His hand
tightened on her jaw, holding her in place as his

lips forced hers open, his tongue thrusting into her mouth
as his lips slanted over hers.

Moving his hand from her jaw, his arm wrapped around her
hips and jerked her to him, notching his

cloth-covered erection into the vee of her thighs as her
arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers

spearing into his damp hair.

The hell he lived in tormented her. The blood he couldn't
escape filled her nightmares as did the

knowledge that it was his father that had forced him into
it.

"Don't think," he bit out, tearing her robe from
her shoulders, pushing it from her arms and cupping the

tight, swollen mounds of her breasts. "Don't think.
Don't protest, Kira. Just let me have you. Right here.

Right now."

How could she do anything less? Her head tipped back, a cry
spilling from her lips as his lips descended

to a tight peak and drew it into his mouth.

Instant wet heat spiked around the bunched nerve endings of
her nipple. His teeth scraped over them,

lighting fires that flashed to her womb, clenching it and
spilling the silken wetness of her response from her

vagina. And she could do nothing but hold on to him. His
touch, the feel of his lips on her breast, one arm

holding her close, his fingers pulling at her hair, holding
her head back. And between her thighs she could

feel his cock throbbing beneath the thin cotton slacks,
ready, engorged.

"Ian, this is crazy." Crazy because she couldn't
breathe, couldn't think in his arms. And she loved it rather

than hating it as she should. She ached for more. Ached for
the world to recede, the knowledge of blood

and death to be wiped away by a passion that burned like
wildfire between them.

"No,
this
is crazy." He
released her as quickly as he had dragged her into his arms, his eyes

heavy-lidded, lust burning in them as he quickly stepped
away from her. "Get your shower!"

The abrupt order had her staring back at him in confusion.
"My shower?"

The look he gave her was filled with irritation and lust.

"Diego is waiting on us downstairs and I have a
meeting on the other side of the island in less than three

hours. That gives you approximately thirty minutes to
shower and dress."

"Plenty of time." She waved the time constraint
away with a smug smile as she lashed out with her other

hand, gripped the band of his pants, and tried to pull him
to her. Or rather, pull herself to him, because he

wasn't moving. But as she gripped the band, her fingers
flicked the button loose and the other hand

gripped his zipper and slid it down. "Gotcha, babe."
Her hand slid into his pants, her fingers curling

around the broad, thick length of an erection so damned
hard it could be iron. Living iron. Pulsing in her

hand and sending a surge of hunger through her so strong it
weakened her knees.

The feel of him in her hands, heavy veins pulsing beneath
steel-hard flesh, his whisky eyes darkening,

heating, was more powerful than any aphrodisiac.

His hand latched around her wrist, holding her stroking
hand still.

"I won't be easy. And I won't be slow." A dark flush
mantled his cheekbones as his eyes narrowed.

"Did I ask for easy? Or slow?"

He jerked her around, pulling a gasp from her lips as she
found herself bent over the arm of the nearby

chair, her arms pressed out in front of her, his hands
gripping her wrists as she felt the first press of his

cock against the swollen, sensitive tissue of her pussy.

"It's a good thing you don't want easy," he
growled.

The first thrust buried him halfway inside her, stretched
her, sent waves of burning pleasure racing up her

spine.

"Do you want easy now, Kira?" His voice was a
harsh, low snarl at her ear as he pulled back.

"No." She shook her head desperately, then cried
out, her back arching as he buried in fully, fiery

agonizing ecstasy racing through her pussy.

She felt his legs bracketing hers, bending as he pulled his
hips back, his hard shaft sliding sensually,

slowly, from the desperate grip her pussy had on him.

"You want more, Kira?"

She felt the muscles of his thighs bunch, felt his hands
slide from her wrists to her hips.