Killer Secrets (9 page)

pushed Tehya to the back of her mind. So dark and rough. He
was angry, she could tell. His voice

roughened to a gravelly sound when he was angry. When he
was aroused it was guttural. And once she

had heard him chuckle, the sound like a coming storm at
midnight. Rich and laced with sensuality.

Last night, his voice had been gravelly fury as he held her
beneath him. Fury and arousal. The sensuality

had been there, in his voice, in his dark eyes, in the
brooding expression on his face. And the sound of it

had struck her womb like an explosion of heat and light.

She let a little smile touch her lips at the thought of
Ian's reaction to her arrival. In hindsight, she could

look at it with amusement, though the night before, her
sexual frustration had been less than amusing.

"That smile makes grown men's knees tremble in
fear."

Kira's gaze jerked from the menu to Ian as he stood looking
down at her. She tried to pretend surprise.

She had felt him, had known he would end up speaking to
her.

"Ian, what a surprise," she said softly, laying
the menu on the table as she crossed her legs, braced her

elbow on the table, rested her chin in her bent wrist and
gave him a mischievous, flirty look.

"A surprise, huh?" He tucked his hands into the
pockets of his slacks, causing the finely woven white

cotton shirt he wore to ripple over his abs.

The shirt was a little loose, subtly shaping his broad
shoulders and tight, leanly muscled body. His overly

long dark blond hair was pulled to the nape of his neck,
casting the harsh angles of his face into aching

relief.

"Of course it's a surprise." She rounded her eyes
and stared back at him as though his tone shocked her.

"Do you think I'd stalk you?"

"Only if I gave you the chance." He didn't smile
but he stared at her with hunger. A somber, dark hunger

that had her stomach clenching in answering need.

"Would you like to join me?" She waved her hand
to the three empty chairs. "My uncle should be here

momentarily. I've chosen the most gorgeous little villa
outside of town. A lovely white and red stucco with

an outdoor pool and wraparound balcony. One side of the
property is even bordered with a ten-foot

handplaced stone fence."

His eyes narrowed on her. Of course she had picked the
villa next to Diego Fuentes's, and Ian's. Did he

believe she was going to make this easy for him?

His lips thinned as she smiled back with subtle
satisfaction.

"No. But you can join me." He gripped her arm
with the pretense of helping her from her chair before

pulling her along with him into the reception room of the
restaurant. From there, he led her to a hallway at

the far end of the room and then to an unmarked door that
he unlocked, opened. He pushed her into the

darkened room.

Kira found herself flat against the wall, the door slamming
closed behind them, even as Ian's lips

captured hers in a kiss that curled her toenails.

This was what she needed.

Her arms wrapped around his broad shoulders as he lifted
her to him. Her breasts pressed against his

chest, became swollen and sensitive, desperate for his
touch.

When had she become so addicted to him? When had his touch
become the focal point of all her

fantasies and hungers?

Surely it had happened before Atlanta? One stolen night of
sexual frustration couldn't have developed

over nearly a year to this burning hunger? Or had it?
Perhaps it was a product of years of meeting him in

the heart of danger, their eyes connecting, knowing he knew
who she was each time, seeing the

recognition in his gaze, in the slight tilt of his head in
acknowledgment. So many years of it. Meetings in

the dead of night, bullets blazing, nothing mattering but
the success of the mission and the lives at risk.

And each time, her fascination for him had grown. Grown
until she had researched him, tracked him,

accepted assignments that were almost guaranteed to be
supported by the team he fought with. Because

he fascinated her. Because he had known her in all her
disguises when no one else had.

What else did he know about her?

He knew how to stroke his tongue against hers and fracture
her thoughts. How to grip her hips and pin

them against the hard ridge of his cock, and how to make
her long to ride it.

"What the hell are you still doing here?" he
groaned as his lips slid from hers to nip at her jaw, then her

collarbone. "I told you to get out of Aruba."

"Go with me," she panted, arching closer, holding
him to her. "We could find a beach. Lots of sun and

sand. Make love all day."

He stilled and she felt her breath hitch in agony. He was
going to let her go again. She knew he was.

"Kira, you're killing me." He sighed against her
shoulder a second before he tasted her skin with his

tongue. "You're playing with fire, baby, and you know
it. This is no place for you."

"I can help you." She didn't have a choice. If
she hadn't taken the assignment, then it would have been

given to someone else. Someone who couldn't have understood
the rage he was going to feel when he

learned Diego would walk free. She understood. She ached
because of it, hated it, and something inside

her refused to let him face that alone. She knew,
knew
what he was doing. And she knew why. She

understood why. And she couldn't let him face the
realizations and the betrayals alone. His head rolled

against her shoulder. His lips pressed tightly to her neck.
"You'll distract me. You'll get us both killed. I

can't concentrate like this. Sorrell will pick me off like
a duck in water. Is that what you want? God!"

He jerked away from her, the lights flipping on, blinding
her for precious seconds as he moved away

from her. To check the room.

She leaned against the wall and watched as he moved around
the office, checked the closet, then

dragged his fingers through his hair and faced off with her
from the distance of the room.

His brows were lowered, his expression tormented.

"You're not leaving, are you?"

She lifted her shoulders, suddenly uncertain, wondering if
the attraction between them wasn't as strong

for him as it was for her. She had counted on that. Counted
on the fact that he ached for her just as much

as she ached for him.

She was as fully trained as he was. If he could get under
her skin so easily, surely she was under his as

well.

"I won't leave."

"Why?" he bit out. "Why stay where you
aren't wanted, Kira?"

Oh, that hurt. A lot. She crossed her arms over her breasts
and narrowed her gaze at him, allowing it to

flicker to his obvious erection. Her lips curved in a smug
smile before her eyes lifted to his.

"I'm not wanted in any way, Ian?"

She hated pushing him. Hated being forced to hide the truth
from him. But God help her, Diego Fuentes,

and Ian if Diego learned the truth of why Ian was there
now.

"How you're wanted doesn't matter," he informed
her, his expression turning stony. "What you think

you're doing does. You're poking your nose into something
you have no business being involved with.

Get out while you can."

It was too late to consider walking away. It had been too
late the day she realized what Ian's mission

was.

"I'm staying."

He breathed out almost wearily, frustration flickering
across his expression as he stared back at her.

"Don't get in my way. Hurting you isn't something I
want to do or to see happen. But mess with what I'm

doing here, and you'll regret it."

He moved toward her, but not to touch her, only to jerk the
door open and escort her from the room.

His bodyguards were waiting outside, and behind them stood
her bodyguard, Daniel. The sight of them

had a grin tugging at her lips. Five men, each wearing
expressions of varying degrees of disapproval.

"Goodbye, Kira." Ian nodded to her as he closed
the door behind them and moved toward his

bodyguards. "I hope your visit in Aruba goes
smoothly."

"I'm sure it will," she murmured, a smile
touching her lips as she watched him walk away, his men

surrounding him, protecting him.

"He's a hard man," Daniel reminded her as he drew
close to her and they moved back to the dining area.

"Yes. He is," she agreed, smiling gracefully at a
few of the diners she recognized and the waiter who

hovered close in case he was needed.

She stopped momentarily to talk to Joseph Fitzhugh and his
son Kenneth. The English-born industrialist

and his son dabbled in politics occasionally and
contributed heavily to several of the charities Kira was

involved in.

Thankfully, she had never had to fend off Kenneth's
advances, though he was always charming, almost

sociable.

She returned to her chair, aware of Daniel taking his place
once again at a table behind her and watching

her as her uncle, Jason McClane, entered the dining room.

"Kira, sweetheart, the plane finally landed."

Jason stopped in front of the table, accepting the chair
the waiter pulled out for him and lowering his

massive body into it.

Six and a half feet of pure, powerful muscle and Kira
imagined she heard the chair groaning under the

burden.

Jason McClane wasn't a small man. He wasn't a subtle man.
The Texas native and multinational business

owner did everything on a very large scale. Except his work
for the Department of Homeland Security.

He was her handler and, in turn, he had his own handler.
The Chameleon was actually two people,

herself and her uncle. Neither was officially listed with
any law enforcement agency, but the information

they brought in was invaluable.

"I hear you've chosen a place to play," he teased
her, his gray-blue eyes sharp and knowing.

"The Villa de Angelic." She leaned forward as
though overly excited over the purchase and the property.

She was still trying to regain her equilibrium after being
in Ian's arms. "And you're going to love it, Uncle

Jason. It's so me." And so very close to Ian.

He chuckled at that. "I've learned to trust your
taste, sweetheart," he announced. "So have you ordered

yet?"

"I was waiting for you." Her affection for him
wasn't feigned.

"And now I'm here. We'll enjoy our lunch and then
check out your Angelic Villa."

That evening, well after the sun had made its stunning exit
from the sky in a multihued splendor of

brilliance, she and her uncle smuggled her weapons into the
newly leased villa and stored them in the false

bottom of the locking cedar chest at the foot of the
filmy-curtained king-sized bed. But first they had

made a complete sweep of the house for electronic bugs.

Kira sighed wearily as she straightened, glanced at the
clock on the bedside table, and calculated her

chances of catching up with Ian that night at one of the
clubs. Considering the amount of time it would

take to get ready, they weren't good.

"Daniel will be staying down the hall," Jason
told her as he stored the little electronic black wand used to

detect the listening devices into a secure section of the
overnight bag she kept by her bed.

"Will you be staying in Aruba?" Kira kept her
voice soft as she moved to the curtained balcony doors

and looked out toward the stone fence that surrounded the
Fuentes estate. She could see the upper floor

of the villa, and if her source was right, she was staring
directly at the window to Ian's bedroom. It was

the single most important reason for the acquisition of
this particular property.