Killer Secrets (38 page)

You didn't want me like this."

"I want you any way I can get you," Kira gasped,
feeling his hand hook in the neckline of her blouse.

Buttons scattered and the cloth tore, the shreds pulled
from her and tossed aside. "Ian, you keep tearing

my clothes."

"Fuck the clothes." His lips went to her neck as
he lifted her into his arms, dragging her breasts over the

material of his shirt as he moved to the bed. "I'll
buy you more."

He tossed her to the mattress, following quickly, coming
over her and stealing her lips in another of those

soul-destroying kisses. Hard and deep, his tongue licked
through her mouth, his lips moving on hers,

slanting over them. The heat of it burned into her brain,
the need rose with such violent intensity that she

felt buffeted by it.

He didn't bother to undress. One hand locked her wrists
together, holding them over her head, as the

other tore at his belt and the clasp of his slacks. The
zipper slid down as he used his knees to push her

thighs apart, and within seconds, the engorged head of his
cock was pressing inside her.

He didn't take her easy. He didn't take her slow. With a
muttered curse and a desperate growl he forged

inside her, pushing through the snug tissue and slick
juices until he was seated to the hilt.

Pleasure tore through Kira. Nerve endings fired with
brilliant, intense sensation and throbbed with the

need for more. Her clit was swollen and desperate, the
muscles of her pussy clenched and tightening on

his erection.

"Being inside you is like heaven," he groaned as
his head fell to her shoulder, his lips brushing over it in

hunger. "Like being surrounded by silken fire."

His hips flexed, stroking his cock inside her, rubbing the
thick crest into nerve endings so sensitive that

the friction stole her breath.

"Hold me, Kira." His voice was so rough, so low,
she barely made out the words. "God help me, hold

on to me."

She froze for an instant. Just an instant, long enough to
allow the broken emotion in his voice to register

in her brain. The need she could feel tightening his body,
not just sexual need, something more, something

darker and bolder than mere lust. Something he was trying
to hide from himself.

Her arms tightened around his neck as one of his hands
clasped her hip, the other her wrists. He held his

weight from crushing her by one elbow as his hips began to
move.

These weren't deliberate, sensual strokes. They were
mindless, primal. It wasn't just the climax he was

reaching for, and the intensity of that primitive hunger
tore through her senses. She could feel him. She

had never felt another man clear to her soul this way. Had
never felt anything that deep.

But it was where he touched her. He fucked into her with
desperation, his cock burying inside her

repeatedly, stroking the flames of hunger and need higher,
hotter. Pleasure fed emotion. Sensation fed

need until Kira exploded in orgasm with a power that sent
shards of brilliant light exploding behind her

eyelids.

"Damn you," he cursed her, his voice more broken
than normal, his body shuddering as he continued to

thrust through his own release. A release that spilled
inside her rather than a condom, that extended the

waves of pleasure racing through her. "Damn you for
doing this to me."

She held on to him tighter, feeling more than his words
were saying. Yes, he damned her, and sometimes

she damned herself for pushing into his operation. They had
each managed to protect their hearts until

now. The only difference between them was that Kira was
tired of fighting. She belonged to him, and she

wouldn't deny it.

"I love you, Ian." Gasping, reeling from the
pleasure, she made the vow again. "I love you."

"Damn you."

She couldn't help but smile. Sadly. With a sense of hope
and an awareness of the danger she had placed

them both in. Ian's emotions were involved now, whether he
wanted to admit it or not. Now, they both

had a weakness.

Twenty-two

SHE WAS UNDER HIS SKIN, in his soul, and there was no way
to get her out. Ian covered her as

they slipped from the villa and made their way over the
stone fence to the villa Kira had leased for the

summer. He made certain her back wasn't vulnerable, that no
one saw her black-clad shadowy form

from the house.

He was more concerned with her protection than he was his
own. In keeping her safe rather than in

advancing the mission as quickly as possible.

Son of a bitch, he had known this would happen. Known she
would become so important to him that he

wouldn't see her as an equal, or as a partner. All he saw
when he saw her was silken flesh and passionate

cries. How she held on to him when he loved her, how she
shuddered in release in his arms.

She was breaking his heart and she didn't even know it.
Breaking down shields he had begun erecting in

that bleak desert landscape more than twenty years ago, and
had strengthened throughout the successive

years. Shields that protected him against loss, that
stilled the hunger inside him for something more,

something deeper than any relationship he had ever had
before.

They were crumpling now, shattering beneath each touch,
each whispered cry in his ear that she loved

him. A part of him gloried in them, the other part fought
frantically to rebuild defenses that were already

shattered beyond repair. Because all he could think about
was life without her. If Sorrell managed to kill

her, if he took her, if something happened to take her away
from him.

The bleak existence he had known before her would be too
dark, too brutal to bear.

After crossing the stone fence they crouched side by side,
surveying the darkened landscape carefully.

He had ordered the Fuentes guards to stay clear of Kira and
her bodyguard, and his orders were

normally obeyed to the letter. The blood he had shed in the
beginning of his rule of the Fuentes cartel had

ensured that.

But every now and then Diego managed to secure a soldier's
loyalty to him instead. He couldn't be sure

they weren't being watched, but he knew they weren't being
followed. Deke would be watching for spies

though, and if they were out there, he would have the
report when Ian returned.

"It's clear," Kira whispered, turning until her
face was directly below his. "He's pulled Macey and Kell

back if they were out here."

"They were out here," he murmured. "Kell's
still out here, trust me."

He stared at her upturned face, the delicate features, her
unusually colored eyes, and felt his heart clench

again before he looked around carefully.

Now wasn't the time to become mesmerized by the woman at
his side. She was his partner here, she

demanded nothing less. He would cover her to the best of
his ability, and that meant making certain his

senses stayed on alert.

The night vision goggles he wore picked up everything but a
sign of human life. Kell was getting better.

The last time they had practiced stealth, Ian had been able
to track him easily.

"Stay close to the wall," he ordered. "Move
around until we reach the back of the house; there's enough

foliage cover there to keep us in shadow and night vision
can't see through stone."

She nodded as she bent to a half crouch and began moving
carefully along the side of the wall.

Her pert little butt was right below his face and he felt
sweat bead his forehead. That particular part of

her anatomy had the ability to make his dick swell
impossibly hard, despite the release he had

experienced less than two hours before.

Shaking his head and turning, he swept the area again,
paying particular attention to the top of the wall

and the branches of the trees that grew along the side of
the estate.

Within minutes they paused directly across from the veranda
doors, hidden by the wall at their backs

and the staggered landscaping of the yard.

Using hand signals, he directed the route for her, then
watched, his weapon held steady in his hand, as

she crossed half the distance and ducked behind the huge
cement fountain. Pausing, she swept the area

before turning back to him and holding her own weapon
ready.

Ian moved quickly to her position, then, staying close to
her back, pushed her toward the veranda door

that had been left open.

Of course the team was expecting them and he had no doubt
Kell was covering their back the whole

way. He and Macey. Ian could feel it, felt the security and
the sense of teamwork that had always

followed him on the missions they were assigned to work
together.

They moved quickly onto the sheltered veranda, straightened
and stepped into the open breakfast room

it was attached to.

Handguns held ready at their sides, Ian went in first,
moving quickly to the side, bringing up the gun at

the sight of the figure standing still, arms held out from
his side, as Kira swept in low.

"The house is secure," Clint informed them, his
voice quiet. "Come into the sitting room. Kell and Macey

will be in as soon as they sweep for any lagging
shadows."

Ian holstered his weapon slowly then pulled the goggles
from his eyes and stared at the man he had

called friend eight months before.

He came to attention; the former easy familiarity with his
lieutenant commander hadn't necessitated

military protocol in such settings, but for some reason,
the gesture of respect triggered intuitively.

"Bastard," Clint growled. "At fucking ease,
Lieutenant. This isn't a goddamned firing squad."

It sure as hell felt like one though.

Clint was quiet then, watching them both with brooding
intensity as Kira holstered her own weapon and

removed her own goggles.

"How long have you been set up here?" Ian asked
as Clint turned to lead the way through the house.

"Since the night you installed Kira at Fuentes
villa," Clint answered, his voice biting. "Of course you

already know that. You had one of your men watching this
place like a gator watches fresh meat."

Ian's lips quirked. He would have expected to hear that
from Kell, not Clint.

"I assumed you would take the hint when I left you the
message to stay out of this."

"Killer Secrets?" Clint grunted. "Yeah, we
were just going to drop off the face of the earth for you, bro.

You forget, 'Killer Secrets' was for personal endeavors
only, not drug cartels."

"Family ties don't make it personal then?" Ian
snapped.

Goddamn, what the hell had they wanted, a blow-by-blow
account of exactly how personal this was to

him?

"That about sums it up, Richards," Clint snarled,
turning back to him, anger tightening his features. "Drug

cartels and unidentified terrorists do not fucking apply.
Remember that."

Clint was pissed, there was no doubt. Ian pushed his
fingers through his hair and shook his head at the

thought.

"Son of a bitch, McIntyre," he cursed. "Why
didn't I just drag all of you in on it, since Diego knows your

faces so fucking well. I could have watched him kill you
like I watched him kill that little maid. Her brains

splattering across the wall before she had time to realize
she was dead. Hell yeah, I wouldn't be dealing

with your stubborn ass now if I had."

Clint rounded on him, his lips flattening, the muscle at
his jaw twitching dangerously. Clint wasn't a man

to cross, but Ian had learned to cross the most dangerous
of them all. The fury in the other man's face

didn't have the power it once held.