Midnight Rescue

by Elle Kennedy

  She faltered. “No, you don’t have to—”

  “I don’t have to do anything,” he said with a laugh. “But I sure as hell want to.”

  She made a startled sound as he rolled them over so she was lying on her back. He was on his side, hovering over her, and then his deft fingers moved to the waistband of her shorts and he slid them down her legs.

  “Will you let me kiss you?” he asked gruffly.

  A laugh squeaked out. “You already have.”

  “Yeah, but not here.” He ran one finger along the top of her skimpy bikini panties. “And not here.” Slowly, he lifted her tank top, baring her breasts.

  A thrill of anticipation shot up her spine as the air met her exposed skin. When she saw the sexy glimmer in Kane’s eyes, the thrill deepened into a throbbing pulse that snaked into her bloodstream. Oh God, who was this man? Why did her brain turn to mush every time he looked at her?

  Kane dipped his head and pressed his lips on the swell of one breast.

  Panic knotted inside her. What was she doing? Why did her skin feel like he’d set it on fire? The panic intensified. She fumbled with the bottom of her shirt, trying to cover herself. “I can’t do this,” she sputtered.

  He looked up at her, his eyes gentle. “Yes, you can. It’s okay to let yourself feel things. I think we both could use a lesson in that. At least try, and if you don’t like what I’m doing, I’ll stop. I promise you that.”

  She let out a pent-up breath. “Okay.”

  “You sure?”

  Another slow exhale. “I’m sure.”

  Without giving her time to change her mind, he turned his attention back to her breasts, now healed from the whipping. He kissed each one softly, and her nipples tingled, hardened, demanding equal attention. His tongue licked its way up to one rigid bud. He sucked it gently. Another shock wave rocked her body.

  “You like this?” His breath heated her skin.

  “Yes.”

  He circled her nipple with his tongue, each raspy swirl bringing a jolt of pleasure that blazed down her body and settled between her legs.

  “How about this?” He nipped at the side of her breast.

  “Y-yes.”

  She found herself touching his hair as he played with her nipples, kissing and sucking, biting when it suited him. By the time his hand moved between her legs, she was clawing restlessly at the sheets. She needed… something. Something more.

  “Let’s get these off,” he murmured, scrunching the side of her panties with one hand and pulling them down.

  He touched her bare thighs. She shivered.

  “Say the word and I’ll stop, Abby.”

  “No. Keep going,” she choked out.

  He braced his hands against her skin and gently pushed her legs apart. “Has anyone ever gone down on you before?”

  “You mean, like oral sex?”

  He laughed at the dismay in her voice. “Yeah, like that.”

  “No.” Abby shifted warily. “Nobody’s ever done that. The ones I’ve been with didn’t seem interested in—”

  “No,” he interrupted. “Don’t bring anyone else into this.” He softened his tone. “This is just about us, Abby.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” he said gruffly. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I just… I don’t want you to think about anyone in your past. Not now, not ever again. You deserved a hell of a lot more than any of those bastards gave you.”

  “If it helps,” she said with a faint smile, “I killed most of them.”

  A laugh choked out. “Oddly enough, that kind of does help.”

  Her smile widened. “See, my job does have its benefits.”

  Shaking his head, he shot her a grin. “If you don’t like what I’m doing,” he said awkwardly, “I’ll stop. I promise I won’t do anything you don’t like.”

  She couldn’t stop her eyelids from fluttering closed or her sharp intake of breath as he slid down her body, the rough hair on his chest scraping against her sensitive skin. She glanced down and what she saw made her quiver. Kane’s blond head between her legs, his mouth inches from her most intimate place, was the most erotic visual she could have ever imagined.

  Clasping his hands on her hips, he moved closer and slid his tongue over her already damp heat.

  Each brush of his tongue brought on a new sensation that left her breathless. He licked her. Every inch of her body throbbed. Her core. Her breasts. That spot behind her ear. Even her knees began aching relentlessly. Her muscles went taut, tense from the sensations he evoked inside her. Slamming her eyes closed, she tried to ignore the spark starting to burn between her thighs.

  “Don’t fight it,” he rasped against her hot flesh.

  The spark crackled and hissed, until it became a flame that shot to every part of her body.

  Her hands fisted in his hair, trying to push him away.

  “Just let go, sweetheart. Let go for me.”

  The flame turned into a roaring fire.

  His mouth moved over her wet slit, his index finger rubbing her opening. Then he pushed his finger deep inside her and she exploded.

  The orgasm rocked her to the core, made her shudder and moan. Waves of ecstasy crashed over her, swelled inside her, their power endless and their force causing her body to thrash wildly until finally her limbs went numb with a satisfaction no words could describe.

  When at last she found her breath and regained the ability to function, she found Kane looking up at her with a mixture of triumph and sheer desire.

  He lifted a brow. “Well?”

  “That… you… I don’t think I can move.”

  With a laugh, he climbed up her body and pulled her close, kissing her neck. Another shiver shimmied up her spine.

  “See, I told you losing control wouldn’t kill you,” he teased in a husky voice.

  “That’s never happened to me before,” she admitted. Her lower body was still throbbing, vibrating from the aftereffects of that unbelievable and terrifying climax. It took her a second to realize that the vibrating was actually coming from Kane.

  Cursing, he shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out his phone, which was humming impatiently. Kane’s frown told her exactly who the caller was, and all the pleasure flew out of her body like a sharp gust of wind. Abby’s hands shook as she reached for the phone.

  “No,” Kane said severely. “No fucking way.”

  “I told you I wanted to talk to him if he called.”

  She disentangled herself from Kane’s embrace, managing to seize the cell phone from his hand and flip it open. “Devlin,” she said coldly.

  Next to her, Kane hissed out a savage expletive.

  Covering the mouthpiece, she looked at him, feeling the regret etch into her features. “I’d like some privacy,” she whispered as her other hand fumbled on the bedspread in search of her underwear.

  His face turned to ice. With another angry obscenity, he stumbled off the bed, looking so furious she felt a tremor of fear. His eyes were flashing, his shoulders stiff as a board as he stood over her.

  “You still there, luv?” Devlin’s voice chirped in her ears.

  She took her hand off the mouthpiece. “I’m here,” she said hoarsely.

  Kane shot her a look loaded with fury and disbelief, and then he stalked out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

  Chapter 13

  “Wake up.”

  Lucia slowly opened her eyes. Was it morning? One couldn’t tell, not here in this cold, dark room.

  She missed her mother. Was Mamá looking for her? Did she think Lucia was dead? Tears stung her eyelids. She didn’t want to be here anymore. She wanted to see her mother, and put on her red and white school uniform, and play behind the church with her friends.

  Across the room, Valencia was already awake, her long hair twisted in the messy braid she’d fixed for herself last night, when she and Consuela had tried to distract some of the younger girls by doing their hair. But nothin
g could distract Lucia. She was fully aware of where she was, though not so sure why she was here.

  She got a niggling idea as the halcón snapped his fingers to get everyone’s attention, then gestured to the burly man beside him.

  The man holding a camera.

  A tremor went through her as a third man entered the room, dragging in a green hose dripping water at its spout.

  “You,” the halcón barked, jabbing a finger at Emiliana. “Take off the clothes and stand against the wall.”

  When Emiliana hesitated, the guard held up his rifle and shook it ominously. Emiliana quickly ran to the wall and started to strip.

  Lucia watched in horror as, one by one, the girls around her were forced to undress and stand in front of the hose. The halcón tossed them a bar of soap, ordering them to clean themselves. After each girl had been cleansed, the other guard gave her a towel to dry off with, then made her go to the other side of the room, where the man with the camera had set up a tripod.

  Lucia flinched every time the halcón pointed at a girl. Soon he would point at her. Soon she would have to remove her clothes while the men ogled her naked body.

  Vomit rose in the back of her throat. She swallowed it down as hard as she could, pushing the bad taste away.

  The halcón flicked a finger at her. “Your turn. Get up.”

  Lucia trembled as she climbed unsteadily to her feet. Her fingers were numb, cold. She could barely undo the first button of her shirt.

  “Faster,” the halcón snapped.

  She quickened her pace, wishing the entire time that she could disappear. That she was somewhere else. Anywhere else.

  Just not here.

  Isabel woke up feeling disoriented. It took her a few seconds to remember she was in the honeymoon suite at the hotel. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she sat up in bed and glanced at the thin shaft of sunlight streaming through the thick gold curtains hanging at the window that overlooked the city’s business district. The king-size bed was covered with a dark yellow bedspread and a mountain of decorative pillows that she’d kicked off during the night onto the rich burgundy carpet. She hoped none of the pillows had conked Trevor in the head. When they’d returned from their meeting with Esposito last night, he’d promptly marched over to the closet, grabbed an extra blanket and pillow, and announced he was sleeping on the floor.

  As if she’d really expected him to share the bed with her. The man could barely look her in the eye, for Pete’s sake.

  Stretching her arms high above her head, Isabel slid out from beneath the silk sheets. As she stood up, she snuck a peek at Trevor, who was lying on the floor with his eyes closed. She swallowed when she caught sight of his bare chest and long, muscular legs. He wore nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs that hugged his groin. He had a great body—tanned, toned, and totally drool-worthy.

  Tearing her eyes away, she headed for the master bathroom to brush her teeth and wash up, all the while wishing Trevor Callaghan wasn’t so damn attractive. It would have helped if his looks matched his less-than-desirable personality—that way she wouldn’t have to be so aware of him all of the time. When she reentered the bedroom, Trevor was sitting up, yawning.

  “Mornin’,” he said gruffly.

  “Good morning,” she answered.

  An awkward beat, broken by the clearing of his throat. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Better than you, I suspect,” she couldn’t help but murmur.

  His features tensed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Isabel shrugged as she headed for the Louis Vuitton suitcase she’d left in the small sitting area across the room. “You were tossing and turning all night,” she said over her shoulder.

  God, Gina, I’m sorry.

  She kept that memory to herself, though his raspy, grief-stricken words continued to run through her mind. She was tempted to ask him about the dream, but didn’t dare. Trevor was far too touchy, and always on guard whenever she raised a topic that didn’t relate to this rescue.

  “I always get restless on a mission,” he said with a veiled expression. “I don’t like waiting around, or relying on people like Esposito to get things done.”

  As if on cue, the cell phone he’d left on one of the love seats began to chime. Trevor sprang toward the ringing phone and glanced at the caller ID.

  “Esposito?” Isabel asked sharply.

  He nodded, then answered the call. “Felix,” he said, his tone immediately transforming into one tinged with lighthearted pleasure. Trevor paused. “Yes, of course. No, we were already awake… He does? Well, that’s very good to hear…”

  Isabel listened intently to his side of the conversation, smiling to herself when she heard Trevor mention the fee he’d promised Esposito. Felix had done his job, then—Bahar had agreed to a meeting.

  “Samir Bahar is willing to meet with us,” Trevor confirmed after he hung up, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. “Today.”

  Her gaze flew to his. “Today?”

  “You find it suspicious too, don’t you? That he arranged such a hasty meeting.”

  “Do you think it’s a trap?”

  Trevor pursed his lips in thought, tilting his head to the side. “I don’t know. Could be, but Bahar really has no reason to suspect us. We’ve got a good cover in place, and I’m sure he did a thorough background check.”

  “There are no holes in Julian Martin’s background?”

  “None.” He arched one brow. “And Paloma Dominguez?”

  “Rock solid.”

  “Then we probably have nothing to worry about.”

  Isabel had to laugh. “Probably? That’s very assuring.”

  She thought she glimpsed a hint of a smile on his handsome face. “Are there any reassurances when it comes to this kind of work?” he countered.

  After a moment, she let out a sigh. “No, there aren’t.”

  Trevor shrugged, then set down the phone and headed toward the bathroom. “So we go forward.” He paused in the doorway and turned to shoot her a rueful look. “And if it’s a trap, we’ll know soon enough.”

  “Bahar agreed to the meeting,” Morgan announced as he strode onto the terrace.

  Kane lifted his gaze from the cards he was holding. “Trevor and Isabel convinced Esposito?”

  Morgan nodded. “Yep. Bahar called Trev this morning. They’re having lunch today.”

  “Good.” Kane turned his attention to his poker hand, sliding two red poker chips into the heaping pile in the middle of the table. “I raise a hundred.”

  From her perch by the railing, Abby heard Luke curse softly. Apparently Kane had been kicking Luke and Ethan’s asses for the past hour, but she hadn’t been paying much attention. It was another disgustingly humid day, and the thin yellow sundress she wore clung to her skin like plastic wrap. Noelle must have been pretty angry with her when she’d gone shopping for clothes, or maybe Noelle was hoping her own femme fatale tastes would rub off on Abby. Either way, she was now the proud owner of several skirts, tight jeans, and skimpy dresses she normally wouldn’t be caught dead in.

  At least she wasn’t the only one wearing next to nothing. The men were all bare-chested, sweat coating their muscled flesh, and Abby had been trying not to look in Kane’s direction all morning.

  He wasn’t looking at her either.

  He was pissed. Didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that one out. Ever since she’d banished him from her room last night in order to talk to Devlin, Kane had been speaking to her in two-word sentences, his green eyes pretty much screaming I don’t want to deal with you right now.

  “Abby?”

  She turned at the sound of Morgan’s voice. “Yeah?”

  “Did you hear what I said? They got a meeting with Bahar.” Morgan’s face was unusually gentle. “We’re halfway there.”

  She managed a halfhearted smile. “That’s great.”

  He studied her. “You all right?”

  “I’m fine.” She noticed the way Kane’s back t
ensed when she spoke. “Just distracted, that’s all.”

  Although Morgan looked unconvinced, he simply nodded and left the terrace. Abby turned around again, breathing in the thick, almost unbearable heat.

  “Why the fuck don’t we have a swimming pool?” Luke demanded. “We have a gym, an indoor and outdoor shooting range, a security system that rivals the one in the White House, but no freaking pool.”

  “Maybe Morgan can’t swim,” Ethan piped up.

  That remark set them off in a bout of loud laughter, but Abby noticed Kane didn’t join in.

  Damn it, she’d screwed up. She thought of the way he’d looked at her last night, when he’d brought her to her first honest-to-God orgasm. His eyes had sizzled with heat. Genuine warmth. And then Devlin had had to call and mess everything up.

  Ribbons of uneasiness uncurled in her stomach as she remembered the main topic of discussion. Devlin had been talking about Ted. He’d even played a portion of the tape from Dr. Silverton’s session, when Abby described the first time Ted hit her.

  The memories Devlin had unearthed were ones she’d buried a long time ago. It sickened her that he could obtain so much joy from other people’s pain. Several times last night she’d almost hung up on the bastard, but she’d forced herself to stay on the line. Truth was, she was learning as much about Devlin as he was learning about her. When he spoke to her, she heard his anger and resentment, but at the same time, his tone of voice was almost reverent, as if he might worship her as well as loathe her.

  His obsession with her could be used to her advantage if she played her cards right. For the time being, though, she would allow him his sick games. Dr. Silverton’s safety was in her hands and she knew Devlin wouldn’t hesitate to snap the doctor’s neck. From what she knew about the man, killing was a form of entertainment for him. He got off on it.

  Well, Abby refused to give him a reason to indulge in his favorite sport. She knew Devlin wouldn’t be satisfied with phone calls for very long, but for the moment they kept him occupied and gave her time to figure out her next move. If she attempted to step in and remove Amanda Silverton from harm’s way now, Devlin would simply find another way to get to her. Better to let him think he had the upper hand, that he was succeeding in tormenting her with the past. Let him believe she was weak. It would make it all the sweeter when she killed the bastard.