Navy SEALs Complete Series: 3 Books + 3 Novellas (Tempting Navy SEALs) (99 page)

I
AN DIDN’T BOTHER KNOCKING ON
Diego’s study door. He was tired, pissed, and the adrenaline high had him on edge. He was more than aware of the mistake he had made at Coronado’s where Kira was concerned. What he had done had placed her smack in the middle of the war getting ready to be waged between the cartel and Sorrell’s terrorist network. As well as brought her to Diego’s attention. There wasn’t a doubt in Ian’s mind just how ugly and how bloody it could become.

“Do not berate me!” Diego was waiting for him. He stood behind his desk, glowering as he stared back at Ian.

Ian paused, lifted his brow mockingly, and pulled back the caustic insults he had been ready to deliver. Daddy dearest was in a mood tonight, it seemed.

“I had no intention of berating you,” he lied as he closed the doors behind him, barely glimpsing the surprise that came and went on Diego’s face when he turned back to him. “I was curious as to what was so important that you had to call me in here like a child who had missed curfew.” Ian forced a vein of teasing mockery into his voice.

Diego softened marginally, the corner of his lips tugging up almost involuntarily.

“Do you think I offended your Miss Porter?” He suddenly frowned.

Ian shrugged. “I doubt it. She’s a woman. She’s probably used to grown men acting like asses.” He barely held back the disgust in his voice.

“Ah. If she has been around you very long, then I have no doubt.” Diego snorted.

Ian hid his surprise. Damn, the old man was developing some sharp teeth where he was concerned. It had taken much longer than Ian had expected.

“Don’t doubt it.” Ian grinned, genuinely amused this time. Kira had quite a bit of experience dealing with some of his less charming traits over the years.

Diego grunted at that before saying, “I had several phone calls before you arrived informing me of the confrontation with the Misserns over Miss Porter. It was reported that Martin Missern attempted to strike her?” Diego’s black eyes narrowed in anger.

Ian crossed his arms over his chest. “And what else did your little spies tell you about it?”

“Damn you, Ian!” he burst out. “You live in a fishbowl, and you know this. All watch you. Did you not think before you reacted? Did you not know that there would be eyes watching to report how easily Ian Fuentes came unglued over the very delectable Miss Porter? The heir to the McClane fortune and the very dear niece of one of the world’s most influential men?”

But no mention of Kira as the Chameleon, or her work as an agent.

No one knew of the work she did, and Ian intended to keep it that way.

“You have nothing to say?” Diego growled.

“Are you expecting me to defend my actions?” Ian asked curiously. “I realize you missed a lot of years in my upbringing, but I’m a little old for you to counsel me on how I deal with public threats to a woman I’m sleeping with. Don’t you?”

Diego paused, his eyes narrowing further as his nostrils flared in ire.

“Josef Missern called just before your arrival to apologize for his brother’s actions and to assure me that he alone will deal with the transaction in the morning.”

Hell, he should have expected that.

“Fine.” Ian shrugged. All the better. He would get the weapons he needed and Sorrell’s spies could attest to the fact that Ian took his protection of Kira very seriously.

“You say fine, as though threatening to kill Martin Missern was of no importance?” He shot Ian a contemptuous look. “They will be watching for you now. They will put a bullet in the back of your head without warning. You should strike first—”

“Whoa! Are you suggesting I send men in to kill the Misserns because they might retaliate for my threats against them?” Ian laughed. “God love your heart, Diego. How have you managed to survive all these years if you’re constantly killing people off like diseased animals?”

“Because what I kill
are
diseased animals,” he snapped back. “Deny this. I dare you.”

His uncles hadn’t been diseased. Diego’s younger brothers, their wives and children, had been murdered with merciless speed the moment Diego learned they were considering turning over evidence against the Fuentes cartel to the American and Colombian authorities.

Ian kept his mouth shut. He didn’t care about Diego’s excuses or the poor pitiful story the other man would no doubt relate. He just wanted this meeting finished.

He rubbed at the side of his nose before shoving his hands into his slacks and retaining eye contact with Diego.

“Is there a point to this?”

Diego sneered. “You are like a willful child.”

“We established that my first month here. Should I have asked if there was a
new
point to this?”

“Take care of the Misserns,” Diego warned him. “Do not
give them the chance to strike out at you when you are not looking.”

Ian pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I’ll consider it.”

Diego’s eyes widened in surprise. “You will?”

“Of course.” He shrugged. “When I meet with Josef tomorrow if he hasn’t followed my security instructions to the letter than I’ll blow his nasty little head off just like I do anyone else who pisses me off. Satisfied?”

Ian felt a warning itch just beneath his flesh. How much blood had he shed in the past year? How many animals had he already killed? Terrorist spies and cartel enemies were a dime a dozen, there were so many now.

Suddenly, his skin felt coated, oily with blood and guilt and the slime that came from dealing with slugs. And the head slug stood across from him, watching him as though he were proud of him. As though he had said something to be praised for. For God’s sake.

Diego nodded slowly and seemed to release a sigh of relief. “I worry.” He swiped his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “You are strong and they know this. To kill you would be a great source of pride for them. To succeed where Sorrell’s agents have failed.”

“Stop worrying.” Ian rubbed his hand over the back of his neck to dispel the primal sense of foreboding he could feel gathering inside him. “I’ll take care of the Misserns. And Kira.”

Diego nodded. “Yes, you must take care of Miss Porter. She is known for her reserve and refusal to take a powerful lover. Many will look at you with awe for succeeding in capturing her interest. You are a son to be proud of.” He nodded decisively.

Ian barely contained his disbelief. “For God’s sake,” he muttered. “This is insane. She’s a woman, not a trophy.”

“Ah, you defend her honor.” He chuckled. “Perhaps she will be around a while, yes? Maybe babies one day?”

Ian blinked back at Diego. The old man was going senile.

He shook his head. “I’m going to bed.”

Diego chuckled. “I do not doubt there will not be much sleep for you this night. Try to rest a little, ah? The Misserns, they are wily. You will need all your senses in the morning.”

“Sure. I’ll take care of that,” Ian said, shaking his head.

Diego was still chuckling like a rabid clown as Ian left the office and headed toward the stairs. Just in time to watch the entry doors open and Daniel and Cristo step inside. They were carrying Kira’s luggage and several carryalls. One rather large duffel bag. He was betting he knew exactly what resided in that duffel bag.

“I only brought her essentials.” Daniel Calloway’s voice was cool, distant. “I’ll take those up to her then you can show me a room close enough to hers to make certain she’s not murdered in her sleep.” His hazel eyes clashed with Ian’s.

Master Warrant Officer Daniel Calloway had been a SEAL himself before his retirement from the navy at age thirty-eight. He had immediately taken the position with McClane as Kira’s bodyguard.

He was still in peak fitness five years later, though there was a dusting of gray at his temples. Ian bet Kira had given him each one of those gray hairs.

“Cristo, bunk him in with you,” Ian ordered. “We’ll go over the rules of this little game in the morning.”

“Is his room close to hers?” Daniel appeared unwilling to let that bone go.

Ian shot him a mocking smile. “It’s close to my room actually. And since that’s where she’ll be sleeping, I think it will do.”

Daniel’s lips thinned in disapproval. “For now. That will do.”

Deke cleared his throat. “Let’s go, man,” he urged Daniel. “The boss is still wearing his piece. I’d hate to see him pull it.”

They went, but not before Daniel shot him a quiet, warning glare.

Ian pinched the bridge of his nose and strode quickly
through the foyer to the living room. There, he headed straight to the wet bar and the bottle of Crown Royal he kept for emergencies.

Slamming the glass to the bar, he filled it halfway, brought it to his lips, and swallowed with a desperation born of a hunger he couldn’t explain, even to himself.

Ian snarled, held back the curse sizzling at his lips, and stalked from the room. He knew, knew she was going to be trouble. The moment he saw her, five years before, he had known.

And by God, he was right.

I
AN HIT THE STAIRS, TAKING
the steps two at a time, and passed his bodyguards without so much as a word.

He entered the sitting area of his suite and closed the doors with deliberate restraint.

He wanted Kira out of here. He wanted her safe. And now, it was too fucking late for safe. Whether he wanted her here or not, here she was, and he’d be damned if he would fight to keep his hands off her.

Looking around the silent room, darkened and empty, his gaze was drawn to the open balcony doors. Ian moved to them and stepped out into the darkness that filled the night.

Dark, but never alone. The hairs on the back of his neck lifted in primal warning. Hell, he’d been a SEAL long enough to know what it meant. He’d felt it for more than a week now, known he was being watched, and he knew who was watching him.

He let his gaze travel along the hills across from the balcony, mockery twisting his expression.

Where are you, Macey?
He could feel Durango team’s tech wizard watching him. One of the few friends Ian had ever allowed himself, a man who now considered Ian a betrayer and the enemy.

He was out there, but so were the others. His former
commander, Reno Chavez. His lieutenant commander, Clint McIntyre. The Cajun, Kell Krieger. He and Ian had made lieutenant at the same time. And Lieutenant Junior Grade Mason “Macey” March. He couldn’t keep a rank above junior for the life of him. Macey had problems with authority figures and never failed to lose rank by arguing with superior officers other than his commanders. That and hacking their computers.

They were all out there, and they were all watching him. He could feel the bull’s-eye painted on his chest and at times he wished they would go ahead and take the shot. He would never be the same after this mission. Once trust was destroyed within a team, it wasn’t regained with an apology once the truth was found out.

“Ian?” Kira spoke from the thickly padded chair she sat in against the outside wall.

He had known she was there. He could feel her. Smell her. Just as he could feel his former team members watching from a distance.

At that thought, a frown pulled at his brow as he braced his hands on the balcony railing.

“Who’s your backup team, Kira?” he asked, his voice so soft he knew it went no farther than her ears.

“Daniel.” Her answer was quick, questioning.

The shadowed darkness of the land that rose around them held his gaze. Friends that had faced death with him countless times now watched him as the enemy. Was that why the Chameleon was here as well? He hadn’t confirmed her suspicions that he was there to take Sorrell or Diego down, but somehow she had known.

He turned back to Kira, feeling the tension rise inside him as she watched him silently. She sat, her legs folded beneath her, his shirt wrapped around her as black, silky hair flowed around her like a short cape.

He felt the anger burning in his gut, and the suspicion rising in his mind. Pacing to her, he gripped her arm and pulled her from the chair.

“No one watches you?” he asked as he jerked her close to his chest, feeling her gasp then soften in his arms as he laid his lips at her ear. “I feel them out there, Kira. Who else did you take your suspicions to? Did you pull the team out here with you?”

“No.” She shook her head desperately, but believing her didn’t come as easy as her answer had.

“Don’t lie to me.” He backed her against the wall, feeling the hunger inside him, the arousal and need that clawed at his balls like a trapped animal.

Hunger and anger. Helplessness and rage. Once again he couldn’t protect someone he loved. She refused to let him protect her. Refused to hide and let him face the danger and he couldn’t bear it.

“Ian.” She arched against him. “Would I lie to you?”

“In a fucking heartbeat if you thought you needed to,” he snarled, knowing it, feeling it. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

He clasped her head in his hands, tilted it back and found his gaze focused on her lips. Lips that had been red and swollen in the limo, moist with the essence of his cum and slack with the lust beating inside her.

He dropped his hands to her shoulders and dragged the shirt from her, dropping it to the floor of the balcony.

“I wouldn’t dare try to protect you.” Her head dropped back as his lips pressed to her neck and then opened, his teeth raking, his tongue licking as he grew intoxicated with the taste of her.

“You’re a liar.” He nipped her neck in punishment. “Tell me what you’ve done, Kira. Don’t make me force it out of you. Don’t betray me. Not like this.”

He felt her still in his arms.

“Poor little sailor boy,” she whispered mockingly, her fingers working the buttons of his shirt slowly. “God forbid that anyone should care what happens to you. Should we take out an ad? To whom it may concern? Ian Richards Fuentes is an island unto himself?”

He jerked her hips forward, burying the hard ridge of his shaft against the giving mound of soft flesh between her thighs.