Killer Secrets (17 page)

knew of her association with the Fuentes cartel heir.

Sorrell knew she was aligned with Ian, and it appeared he
believed the McClane heir could become an

asset he could use.

"Kira, it was a surprise to see you here after your
accident last year." Martin Missern, the beach boy

weapons broker, smiled his most charming smile as icy blue
eyes flicked over her bare legs revealed by

the bronze stretch silk dress she wore. His gaze then
lifted to the now barely noticeable scar close to her

shoulder which was revealed by the thin strap that held her
dress over her breasts. He and his brother

had joined her without invitation based on an introduction
made more than a year before.

The bullet she had taken in Atlanta last year in her role
as the friend of a senator's daughter had nearly

taken her life. Thankfully, Ian's and her uncle Jason's
quick responses had saved her. A premier plastic

surgeon had removed the unsightful scarring later.

"I was rather surprised myself to be moving so
freely," Kira admitted with a smile. "But Jason has several

business interests here that required my presence. And
Daniel looks after me."

Daniel was presently hovering over her like a warning
specter from behind her seat. He took his duties

as bodyguard very seriously.

"I saw you conversing with Ian Fuentes last
week." Martin finally broached the subject Kira had felt

coming for the past half hour. "You are good friends,
yes?" His smooth French accent did nothing to fool

her. Charming he might well be, rather like a cobra, just
waiting for the right moment to strike.

"We're acquaintances," she admitted. "We met
in Atlanta last year."

"Ah yes, you are dear friends with Senator Stanton's
daughter." Martin nodded as though that point of

information were important. "He was a SEAL at that
time, was he not?"

"I believe he may have been." She arched a brow
inquisitively. "Though it appears he isn't one any

longer."

A smile shaped the weapons broker's full, sensual lips.

"This is true." He nodded. "He has shaped up
his father's cartel excellently in the past months. He's giving

many of the other cartels a run for their money, quite
literally."

Kira let a sneer shape her lips. "The advantages of
knowing how the enemy works, perhaps?" she

pointed out, referring to the fact that it was widely known
that Ian had worked several missions involving

drug and weapons trafficking.

"Ah yes." Martin smiled. "This was an
excellent advantage. Would it be safe then to say that you are not

friends? Perhaps friendly enemies?"

"Perhaps." The smile that shaped her lips was
deliberately mysterious. "Why do you care, Martin? The

last I heard your import-export business had nothing to do
with the cartels. The Fuentes cartel shouldn't

concern you." The Misserns' very legal, very
profitable business was no more than a front for their

weapons cargos.

"Ah, but the Fuentes cartel affects many of us,"
Martin's twin, Josef, pointed out from beside his brother.

"It is a well-known fact that Ian Fuentes is shifting
his home base from Colombia to Aruba, or perhaps

even one of the smaller islands. He wishes to avoid the
American and Colombian authorities, yes?"

"Well, he is a deserter. And a drug lord," she
pointed out. "I would guess he'd have to be rather careful.

SEALs tend to get a little irked when one of their own turn
dirty."

She was talking the talk, walking the walk, but something
inside her felt as though it were splintering. She

knew better. Ian was dodging former friends as well as the
criminals salivating to see him taken down. He

was treading water so deadly, so dangerous, that she
wondered how he would escape the

consequences. Or even if he could.

He was going it alone, on his own, attempting to identify
and eliminate a terrorist that no one had been

able to identify in nearly twenty years of investigations
and missions to do just that.

But Ian was in a position no one had ever been in. He owned
the cartel Sorrell needed to gain access

into the United States. The Fuentes operation had, over the
years, managed to create a secure

underground operation to move its drugs and people through
the United States, into Canada and

Mexico.

Two generations of master chess players. Diego Fuentes and
his father had begun what Ian was now

strengthening. Even the drug enforcement agencies were
scratching their heads over how he was

managing to bypass their security, their snitches, and
their determination to catch him.

Martin Missern glanced past her then, his smile turning
smug before he moved the hand resting on the

back of the leather booth and brushed a long lock of her
black hair over her shoulder, once again

revealing the cleavage that the deep cut of her dress left
bare.

Kira's gaze flicked to his hand, then back to his eyes.

"Touch me again, Martin, and you might have a stub
where that hand used to be," she warned as

Daniel's shadow fell over him, causing Martin's bodyguards
to tense as well.

Martin flicked his hand at the goons posing as security and
flashed her a rare smile of amusement.

"Fuentes is watching you very carefully, little
one," he said. "Are you certain there is not more than mere

friendship that binds you? I have not seen our friend over
there so upset over a woman in all the years I

have known him."

And there were a lot of years to back that up. Ian and
Martin had clashed more than once, and several

times the drug runner had come against the SEAL team Ian
had worked with.

"Perhaps it's indigestion." She shrugged,
refusing to glance back at Ian again. "I'm not here to discuss

Ian's problems, I'm here to enjoy a few drinks. You're
interfering in that."

A small frown flitted around his brow. "So
inhospitable?" he asked. "You confuse me,
ma petite
. The

niece of one of the world's richest men, and you resort to
lowering yourself to a traitor and drug cartel

owner? How can this be? Surely your tastes are more
refined?"

Kira folded her hands in her lap and watched him silently,
archly, for long moments.

"Daniel, could you have the valet bring our car around
now." She directed her response to her

bodyguard. "Mr. Missern is beginning to bore me."
She moved to slide from the booth.

"
Non, non
, you must not leave
yet." Martin's hand snapped out, as though to grip her wrist to stop her.

A dominant, forceful move backed by enough strength to
break her wrist if he wasn't careful.

Missern was a termite. A shifty little maggot known for
manhandling his women.

Before his fingers could wrap around her flesh she had two
of his fingers in her hold, pressing back,

shocking him into stilling and watching her with
narrow-eyed silence.

"You know the rules, Martin," she reminded him
softly. "Don't touch me, and I won't touch you." He

flinched as she exerted just enough pressure to assure him
she could dislocate the digits before he could

make a move for her.

"Kira, little love." Josef, Martin's twin,
grinned at the exchange. "Release Martin now. He will be a good

boy, will you not, Martin?"

Martin's lip curled as she released him, his brow twitching
disdainfully as he glared at her.

"Martin's temper is growing more testy Josef,"
she pointed out. "Are you certain he's had all his shots?"

"Why, you little bitch." Martin wasn't one to
take insults lightly from a woman.

Distantly, Kira knew what was coming. She saw the shift of
his body, the flash of his hand, and knew

there was no way to stop the blow. Even Daniel wasn't that
fast.

But someone else was. A breath away from her cheek,
Martin's hand stopped abruptly, and Kira was

dragged around the booth, sliding on the smooth leather of
the seat as Daniel bounded over the back and

landed where she had been sitting.

His weapon was in his hand, his expression furious as he
stared at the Misserns. Both men had lifted

their hands in a gesture of surrender, though triumph filled
their faces.

"Get her the fuck out of here!" Ian's voice
snapped at her ear as he pushed her at Daniel. "Now!"

Turning, blazing with fury, she faced a demon she couldn't
have expected and a small crowd of bouncers

as they moved in to shelter the altercation. Yep,
Coronado's at its finest. They didn't care who killed or

who died, as long as the customers were shielded from
actually witnessing who did the killing.

"Take your hands off me!" She jerked her arm from
his grip. "And go to hell. I don't need you or anyone

else rescuing me."

Hard hands gripped her upper arms, jerking her close, as
his head lowered, his nose nearly touching

hers, anger flowing from him like waves of heat.

"Don't push me, Kira," he bit out. "You
won't like the consequences."

"Push you, Mr. Fuentes?" she questioned him
vehemently. "I have no intention of doing anything so

crass. But if you don't let me go you're going to lose a
fine set of balls."

"How very interesting," Josef called out
gleefully. "Have you met your match, Fuentes? The drug lord

and the society princess. Now, who would have guessed at
such a match?"

She saw the second Ian realized the mistake he had made in
defending her, just as she realized how

carefully Martin Missern had played this little debacle. It
was well known that Kira did not tolerate men

touching her without her permission, and he had
deliberately touched her at every chance once he and his

brother had joined her in the curved booth.

He had touched and pushed, and taken the opportunity to
force Ian to show his hand. Because of

something he had heard, something he had been paid to
instigate? Or because someone knew something

more?

Ian's head lifted, and when he stared back at Martin, his
voice was cold, deadly. "We have a meeting

tomorrow," he reminded the other man.

"We do," Martin answered smugly.

"Let your brother handle it. If I see you again, I'll
put a bullet between your eyes. Do you understand

me?"

"You will deal with me or you will not purchase the
supplies you need." Martin laughed. "Come now,

Ian, why allow a little society tramp such as this one to
affect business?"

Pure murder burned in Ian's eyes then. Kira tensed at the
icy fire, her heart racing in fear now.

"Consider that meeting canceled," Ian said
softly. "You're not the only supplier. And you won't be alive

long enough to provide anything I need."

Tightening his hand on her arm, he began dragging Kira
through the crowd, ruthlessly ignoring her

struggles and her curses.

She glanced over her shoulder at Daniel as he covered the
rear, keeping his gaze carefully on the

Missern brothers who had stood and now watched their
departure, their expressions a mix of anger and

concern.

"Hummer's waiting at the door, boss," Deke
announced as he and another bodyguard cleared the way

through the dance floor.

"Trevor, you and Cristo ride with her bodyguard. We'll
meet at the villa."

"Which villa?" one of those other bodyguards
called back.

"Mine!"

"Like hell," Kira protested loudly. Not that he
seemed to be listening to her. "You can take me to my

villa or let go of me now."

He ignored her, of course.

Stumbling, she fought to tear herself out of his grip, only
to feel the world tip and sway. A second later

she was fighting the knowledge that Ian had thrown her over
his shoulder like a sack of damned