Dark Nights Dangerous Men

by Elisabeth Naughton, Cynthia Eden, Katie Reus, Alexandra Ivy, Laura Wright, Joan Swan

  Sighing, she nodded instead of attempting to argue. By the firm set of his jaw she knew that no matter what she said, he’d stay. Even if she managed to kick him out, he’d sleep in his vehicle. If she was being honest with herself, she was glad he wanted to stick around. After the way Orlando had manhandled her, she was shaken up and Porter’s presence was reassuring. On a personal level he might put her on edge but that was just a physical reaction. “I’ll grab an extra pillow and blankets. Just don’t expect me to cook dinner for you.” Completely offending her mother’s Cuban sensibilities, Lizzy had never picked up the knack for cooking.

  “How about I cook for you instead?” The low baritone of his voice sent a shiver curling through her until it settled low in her belly.

  Her eyes widened in surprise. He could cook? Something she hadn’t known about him. She definitely needed to get away from this man. “Uh, sure, but I’m going to take a shower first,” she muttered and skirted past him. She was careful not to touch him though. Touching him sent her senses haywire and turned her brain to mush. He was only going to be here one night anyway. She could manage to avoid him for a few hours and tomorrow her life would return to normal. She’d make sure of it.

  Chapter Two

  Lizzy opened her eyes and sat straight up in bed as she heard a low creak from somewhere in her house. Her heart pounded wildly against her chest as she eased out of bed. Something felt…off. She didn’t know what it was, but could feel it straight to her bones.

  Her house had been built in the fifties so it was always making settling sounds. The noise she’d just heard could be nothing but she wasn’t taking the chance.

  Porter was sleeping on her couch and Benny was still in her guest room. She’d checked on her brother an hour ago and he’d looked a lot better than he had when they’d brought him home. A lot of the swelling on his face had gone down.

  She tiptoed across her room and cringed when the floorboards groaned beneath her. Easing the door open, she peeked out to find the hallway empty. Good. Porter must still be asleep. She nudged the half-open door to the guest room all the way open. Her throat clenched at the empty bed. The sheets were rumpled but Benny wasn’t there. He always did this. Just left without saying goodbye. She should be used to it, but it hurt more than she’d admit. When she felt wetness on her cheek, she brushed away a few stray tears that managed to leak out.

  “He left fifteen minutes ago.”

  She swiveled at Porter’s voice and barely refrained from screaming. Her hand instinctively flew to her throat. “You almost gave me a heart attack… You saw him leave?”

  Porter nodded, his face an unreadable mask. “He must have called someone to pick him up because he snuck out the front door. I watched him get into a car and drive off.”

  Anger punched through her, swift and hard even though it had nothing to do with the man standing in front of her. This wasn’t his fault. “Why didn’t you try to stop him? Or wake me up?”

  His shoulders lifted in a casual shrug. “He’s a grown man. If he wants to leave, it’s not my business.”

  She started to respond when she realized how little clothing Porter had on. No shirt and pinstriped blue and white boxers that did little to cover the bulge between his legs. Oh my… She forced her gaze upward but his entire body was drool worthy and she couldn’t stop her gaze from roaming everywhere.

  His broad chest was male perfection. With a ripped eight pack and just a smattering of dark hair covering his pecs, he was all sharp lines and taut muscles. She’d never thought much about male legs before, but his were something she’d definitely remember. Muscular and lean but not bulky. Runner’s legs. Why had they never gotten naked together again? Right now she was having a hard time remembering her own name, let alone why she’d ended things with him. She nervously licked her lips as she imagined what it would be like to wrap her own legs around—

  “Don’t look at me like that.” His voice was a low growl.

  As her eyes snapped up to meet his, she fought the heat creeping into her cheeks. Thankfully the only source of illumination was the moonlight streaming in from the blinds. She wondered how long she’d been staring at him like he was a slab of meat. “Like what?” she whispered. Immediately she wanted to take the question back. It was lame and she knew exactly what she’d been doing. She’d been undressing him with her eyes and she was only sorry he’d stopped her.

  He reached out and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. Instead of withdrawing his hand, he cupped her cheek.

  “Lizzy,” he softly breathed out her name.

  Her lips parted when his pale gaze zeroed in on her mouth. Porter was always so careful about not touching her since they’d ended things, but now he wasn’t showing that normal restraint. When he didn’t pull away, it was like a switch flipped inside her. She wanted his touch so bad she ached for it. For months they’d been dancing around their still burning attraction for one another and he’d just lit the pilot light on her desire. If he didn’t kiss her, she was going to scream in frustration.

  He muttered something unintelligible and covered her mouth with his lightning fast as if he was afraid she’d change her mind. His kiss was soft, yet somehow still demanding. He coaxed her mouth open until their tongues were hungrily clashing against each other. She’d missed his taste so much. When he pulled her bottom lip between his teeth, she didn’t bother to hide her moan. She’d never stopped wanting him. Wanting what he always made her feel.

  He threaded his fingers through her hair and held the back of her head in a dominating grip. The pressure was just enough to drive her wild. She clutched his shoulders and held on tight, savoring the feel of all that strength and power under her fingertips.

  When he pulled back she felt the loss immediately but he wasn’t going anywhere. He dipped his head and feathered light, sensuous kisses along her jaw until he reached her earlobe. Just like he knew was guaranteed to drive her crazy. “I want you so bad, Lizzy.”

  There he went with her nickname again. His voice softened and his eyes darkened every time he said it. And like magic, heat pooled deep in her belly each time. She couldn’t see his eyes at the moment but the man’s voice was the strongest aphrodisiac. Potent and intoxicating. If she could bottle it up she would.

  She opened her mouth to tell him she felt the same way when loud staccato pops somewhere outside made her jerk back. In a haze, she stared at him. “What—”

  His expression was tense. “Stay here!”

  Porter turned and sprinted back down the hallway. Instead of doing as he said, she hurried after him. When he grabbed his gun from the coffee table in her living room, she realized what he was doing.

  “Stay down,” he threw over his shoulder as he neared the window.

  Crouching low, she peered around the corner of the couch and watched as he slowly lifted one of the wooden slat blinds covering the window in her living room. Fear for whatever was going on outside exploded inside her like fireworks. But more than anything, she wanted to pull Porter down to where she was. She had no doubt he could take care of himself but that didn’t ease her panic any. The back of her neck tingled as he stood off to the side of her window. It sounded like gunfire outside though she couldn’t wrap her mind around something like that happening in her quiet neighborhood. Maybe it was just some kids lighting fireworks.

  Porter muttered a curse under his breath.

  The pops sounded again and they were followed by loud shouts and whoops. The noise grew farther and farther away, but her heart still pounded erratically. “What is that?”

  He moved away from the window and grabbed his neatly folded jeans from the coffee table and started to tug them on. “You need to pack a bag. For at least two weeks.”

  She cautiously crept up from behind her hiding place. “What’s going on?”

  “Someone just made a mess of your lawn and shot off a few rounds overhead—probably to make sure you woke up to see what they were doing. We’re lucky they didn’t aim at your
house,” he growled.

  “What did they do to my lawn?” An unbidden tremor raced through her voice.

  “See for yourself.” He motioned with his head as he zipped and buttoned his jeans.

  Fighting panic, she headed toward the window and lifted one of the wooden slats a fraction. Her heart caught in her throat. Someone had burned something into her front yard. Burning orange embers danced and floated under the moonlight. “What is that? It looks like numbers. Why would someone burn numbers into my yard?”

  Porter wrapped his arm around her waist from behind and pulled her away from the window. She nearly jumped out of her skin. Despite the fear humming through her, she enjoyed the intimacy of the way he held her. Turning, she faced him and didn’t move out of his embrace. The rational part of her brain told her to move away but instead, she wrapped her arms around him. Screw rational. Right now she needed that extra bit of strength.

  He tugged her completely away from the window and into the shadows of the living room. “Those numbers mean you’ve made a serious enemy, Lizzy. It’s a seventy-nine.” His tone was so dark and ominous and he made the statement with such finality, as if she should have any sort of clue what he meant.

  “And…what? I’ve got seventy-nine days to live?” She tried to sound light but her question came out raspy.

  “It’s a message from the Seventy-Ninth Street Gang. They used to do a lot of low level work for Alberto Salas before he died. Looks like they’re working for his son, Orlando, too.”

  “Why would they or he come after me?” She might have made him angry earlier today but her brother owed Orlando money, not her.

  Porter’s face was a virtual mask. “This is probably about your brother. He could be trying to threaten you in order to get Benny to pay whatever he owes. Or maybe I made Orlando angry by knocking him out and he feels like he needs to save face in front of his men. I don’t know enough about Orlando to know the answer. Either way, I’m keeping you under lockdown until we have a better idea what his intentions are.”

  “How do you even know what that number means? It could mean—”

  “Grant works for the Miami PD and he’s done a lot of undercover work with the local gang task force. I know what that number means and it’s a message. This is just a warning. You don’t want to be around when they come back.”

  She’d forgotten his other brother was a cop. “Shouldn’t we call the police then?”

  He nodded. “While you’re packing I’ll call Grant. He’s a detective now. You can make a statement to him later and he can have someone head down here to document your front yard. I don’t want to stick around in case these guys decide to make another visit tonight.”

  That was fine with her. The more reality set in, she didn’t want to hang around her house either. And she hated that. Her home was her safe haven and now she felt violated. She wiped sweaty palms against her pajama pants as she stepped out of his embrace. “I’ll go pack.” As she passed the guestroom, she paused when she saw a folded piece of paper on the nightstand.

  She hurried toward it and picked it up. Glancing over her shoulder, she sighed when she realized Porter hadn’t followed her. Her hands trembled as she unfolded it. It was Benny’s handwriting.

  I’m so sorry, hermana. I’m a coward to leave in the middle of the night but I’m too ashamed to face you in the morning. For the first time in months everything is clear. Next time I call you asking for help, I beg you not to do it. I’m so ashamed I asked you to Orlando’s house knowing what a monster he is. I don’t deserve a sister like you and I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you. I’ve done something stupid but I needed insurance. Orlando doesn’t know what I’ve done yet but he will soon enough. My insurance will keep you alive. I left it for you in our childhood hiding place. You’ll know what to do. Don’t trust anyone with what I’m giving you. Te quiero, Benito.

  Insurance? What did that mean? And what could he have left for her?

  “Elizabeth?” Porter’s voice trailed down the hall.

  Fighting back the sting of tears, she crumpled the paper and hurried to her room. There would be time enough later to figure out what kind of trouble her brother was in. She didn’t care what Benny said, she could never abandon her brother.

  * * * * *

  Orlando stared at the picture of Elizabeth Martinez on his computer screen. Everything about her was perfect. She came from a respected family, she was well-liked around Miami, and she was beautiful. Not in a showy, trashy sort of way, but elegant and refined. Exactly what his family wasn’t. And exactly what he wanted in a wife.

  He’d made a mistake yesterday by striking her, but he’d finally gotten her right where he wanted her and he’d lost control. At every function he’d ever spoken to Elizabeth, she’d been a quiet little thing and he hadn’t expected her to fight him. It had taken months to get her brother, Benito, in a position to owe him money. Orlando had wanted to push him into a corner and force the man to call Elizabeth and beg for help. After that time and planning everything had gone to shit in seconds.

  And all because of Porter Caldwell. Orlando hadn’t recognized the guy until it was too late. Porter’s involvement with Elizabeth put a wrinkle in his plans.

  He’d known she worked for the Caldwell family but hadn’t realized the apparent extent of her relationship with them. If it had been anyone else, he’d simply kill them and be done with it. But if he had a member of the Caldwell family executed, it would surely fall back on his doorstep ten-fold. Porter’s family had ties with almost every branch of the government—and he was pretty sure Porter’s father was a retired spy if the rumors around the city were true. Orlando didn’t need that kind of heat.

  Despite the fact that growing up his father had always told him what a screw-up he was, Orlando wasn’t stupid and he certainly didn’t have a death wish. No, he’d have to deal with Porter another way. More subtly.

  A sharp knock on his office door jerked him out of his thoughts. Frowning, he glanced at the clock. It was barely five and the sun hadn’t yet risen. There was only one person who would be up as early as he.

  He clicked off Elizabeth’s picture and pulled up a spreadsheet. “Come in.”

  Miguel, his cousin and one of the few people in the world he trusted, stepped in. His dark eyebrows pulled together in concern. “Hey, you busy?”

  Orlando shook his head. “What’s up?”

  Miguel cleared his throat. “I just got a call from Juan.”

  “And?” Orlando had sent Juan and Eddie, two members of the Seventy Ninth Street Gang, over to scare Elizabeth at her house. If he hadn’t been sure that Porter would be there, he might have had them do more than scare her, but he couldn’t risk Porter getting hurt in the crossfire. Not yet anyway.

  “Looks like it worked. They did as you asked. Currently her car’s still there but it looks like she’s cleared out.”

  “Good.” He’d expected her to leave. If she was scared she’d be more amendable to listening to him next time. He had eyes all over Miami and he knew exactly where she worked. Even if she stayed in hiding, all he’d have to do was follow her home from work one day. Well, he’d have one of his men do it.

  He needed her terrified of him, to realize that she had no other choice but to listen to his demands. From what he knew about Elizabeth, she was loyal to a fault to her brother and Benny’s debt wasn’t going to go away anytime soon. He needed to convince her to pay off her brother’s debt with herself. Yes, he’d have to scare her again very soon. If he let too much time lapse between what the gang had done tonight and another incident, it wouldn’t make as much of an impact.

  When Orlando’s cousin didn’t make a move to leave, he arched an eyebrow. “Is there something else?”

  Miguel cleared his throat again, a definite sign he was nervous. “I don’t understand why you’re using our manpower for something as trivial as a hundred K. With our new product, it doesn’t make sense to focus on this. We should just kill Benny and mak
e him an example. Why not leave the sister alone?”

  “Since when do you question my decisions?” Orlando didn’t understand his cousin’s view toward the opposite sex. Women were nothing more than entertainment—or trophies to display—but for some reason Miguel had a soft spot for women. He knew that was the real reason Miguel wanted him to back off from scaring Elizabeth.

  His cousin held up his hands in a placating gesture. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” He quickly backpedaled and shut the door behind him.

  Sighing, Orlando sat back in front of his computer and pulled up another picture of Elizabeth. Need burned deep inside him as he stared at her. Her head was thrown back and she was laughing at something her mother had said. All that dark hair of hers spilled around her face and shoulders. The woman looked like a goddess. The picture was from a charity function for animals or some other crap. He might not remember the reason for the event, but he remembered everything about her from that night. She’d only had two glasses of champagne before switching to water, and every time she’d moved, her long black dress had swayed seductively, showing him peeks of her mile-long legs. She was a tall woman, especially for being Cuban, and her body was her best asset. Well that and her family name.

  He’d tried to talk to her, but she’d been surrounded by her family. Her two oldest brothers hadn’t left her side the entire night. They’d been like rabid guard dogs, baring their teeth to anyone who got too close. But he’d find a way to get to her. It was all about timing. One way or another, Elizabeth was going to be his. Her family was highly respected in the Miami circuit and he needed that clout. He might have money but his father had never made an attempt to gain any respect around town. No, all he’d cared about was people fearing him.