Killer Secrets (27 page)

Kira stilled. Nathan Malone had mentioned that codeword the
month before when she questioned him in

the hospital. The threads leading into and out of this
operation could get them all killed, and Ian wasn't

sharing information. Whether it was because he couldn't
share, or wouldn't, she could only guess.

"Did they tell you what that means?" Ian released
her slowly, sitting back in his seat with a deliberate

relaxing of his body that didn't fool her in the least.

"What?" she asked though she knew what he meant.
What he meant wasn't nearly as important to her as

what she was seeing in him right now.

Cold, hard purpose. There was none of the arousal, none of
the hunger or the need she had glimpsed in

him to this point. This wasn't the playful lieutenant who
had identified her during the ops where they had

connected. He wasn't the frustrated lover trying to protect
her. This was the SEAL. And he was

determined that nothing would stand in the way of taking
Sorrell's and Diego's heads back to the man he

called brother.

"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.

Sixteen

YOU'RE TOO QUIET NOW," SHEmurmured, 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."

JOSEF MISSERN WAS AT HISmost 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.