by Lori Foster
“You don’t know yet?” That surprised him. She seemed to know everything else.
She swallowed before answering. “It wasn’t pertinent. Mercenaries don’t have a conscience. We don’t decide who is right or wrong in a situation. We just work for the highest offer.” She saluted him with her last bite of sandwich. “Your offer was right.”
He knew, damn it, he knew it was all an act—and still he stiffened. “Then I suppose I’m lucky the guerillas didn’t want you to kill him.”
“I told you that particular village isn’t violent, and they’re far too poor to afford me.”
She didn’t deny that she might kill for money and it pissed him off. He knew her rules, but still he said, “And if the circumstances were different?”
“If they were violent and rich?”
“Yeah.”
“Your brother would already be dead—but not by my hand.”
Eli chose to take that as reassurance on her morals, whether she meant it that way or not. “My brother Jeremy foolishly went to the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Why?”
He slashed a hand through the air. If Jeremy were here now, he’d get an ass-kicking that’d last him a lifetime. “He wants to be a photojournalist. He’s a good student, but he hates to study. I suppose he had this half-baked idea about firsthand experience. Since parts of Central America are still accounted to be underdeveloped, he hoped to get some prime photos and ace his finals report.”
“You allowed him to go?”
“He’s nineteen, too old for me to forbid him anything. But no, I didn’t know he was going. He asked for the money to fund the trip, but he told me he was going to Europe with some friends over semester break.” Eli glanced away, silently cursing his own gullibility. Time and again, he tried to make up for the fact that Jeremy had lost his parents, and with Eli’s entrance into the family, his position as heir apparent. In the process, he’d spoiled him. “If I hadn’t been so preoccupied with business, I might have known what he was planning.”
“Blaming yourself won’t help him, and you didn’t answer my question. What happened to get him in trouble?”
Rubbing his face, Eli stood and walked to the stove. He was amazed by how quickly Ray put her food away. She didn’t seem indelicate, but the food rapidly disappeared. He ladled a bowl of the soup and placed it on the table. Not bothering to sit, he said quietly, “Jeremy isn’t really a bad kid, but he has this stupid chip on his shoulder. He was in a bar with the friends he’d taken along. They were drinking, showing off, trying to pick up some local women, and they managed to offend a few of the men.”
Ray laughed, a genuine laugh this time. “I hadn’t heard that part of the story. Your brother has to have a screw loose to go provoking a guerilla.”
Eli couldn’t argue with that assessment. “A disagreement erupted, things got heated, and they took him.”
“How long ago was this exactly?”
“Less than a week. It took a few days for his friends to return home and contact me. They first tried getting him out on their own, but they’re young and . . .”
“And if they’d pushed it, they might’ve ended up hostages, too.”
“That’s how I figured it.” His hands curled into fists as he paced the confines of the kitchen, reliving that moment of helplessness. “Rather than wait for a ransom demand, I tried contacting the local officials. They gave me a huge runaround. Either they truly knew nothing about it, or they didn’t give a damn.”
“You have to know who to ask.”
“And obviously I didn’t.” Eli hadn’t told his grandparents the truth about Jeremy. It would have worried them sick. Instead . . . He turned to Ray. “So I called that damned agency.”
“And got me.” She winked. “Lucky you.”
He did feel better, knowing she was familiar with the area and the people. Instinctively, he knew she wouldn’t lie to him. If Jeremy were in serious danger, she’d say so. Quietly, he agreed, “Lucky me.”
She gave him a sharp glance. Eli didn’t look away. He felt a connection with her that went beyond her reasons for being with him tonight.
The seconds ticked by while she appeared to be thinking things over. Finally she straightened in her seat and nodded. “First off, stop worrying, okay? Your brother really is fine. I got a firsthand account. A trusted source told me he’s full of complaints, driving everyone crazy, but unharmed.”
Eli rubbed his hands together. “So how soon can we get him, do you think? I don’t want to wait around until he does get hurt.”
Ray looked him over with a critical eye. “Is your brother like you?”
“Like me?”
“Semitough,” she clarified. “Or is he a typical pampered rich kid?”
Eli didn’t know if he liked being labeled “semitough” but at least he understood her meaning. “Jeremy’s worked on the ranch most his life. He’s strong. He’s a man.”
“A nineteen-year-old man. God knows, those are the worst kind.” Her expression softened with some hidden, inner thought that curled the corners of her mouth. “At that age guys are full of testosterone and vinegar, without much room for common sense.”
“True,” he agreed in the same soft tone, beguiled by that smile. “That’s Jeremy.”
Ray finished off her soup, then pushed out of her seat. “They’ll have him sleep in a casita with the insects for company. His selection of food will likely be rice and beans or beans and rice, and they can offer only the crudest means of bathing.”
“Shit.”
“It’s not a Boy Scout campout, but if he can handle roughing it, it won’t be so bad.” She squeezed his shoulder, surprising him with the gesture of comfort and the strength of her grip. He looked at her hand, slender and pale, and had to fight the urge to lift it to his mouth and kiss her palm. “We’ll have a long day tomorrow. You’d better get some sleep.”
Since he’d gotten word of his brother’s predicament, he’d barely slept at all. Not only was he worried about Jeremy, but his grandfather and grandmother were too old to suffer through such concerns. “In a bit.”
She treated him to another show of her bossiness. “Now. Sitting out here stewing isn’t going to help your brother. You’ll need to be in fit shape for a rescue. We have the hard part. All he has to do is wait for us.”
Eli rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t seem to get it off my mind enough to sleep.”
Moving behind him, she pushed his hand aside and took over the task of massaging tight muscles. Her fingers were cool against his heated skin, strong but gentle, kneading with a practiced ease. “Concentrate on how you’re going to box his ears for doing this to you when you get him home.”
The massage wasn’t working.
With Ray so close behind him, her hands touching him, his muscles were in danger of going into a cramp. “I’ve already done that a thousand times. And I’ve envisioned the rescue at least double that.” Over his shoulder, he gave her a piercing look. “You, however, I couldn’t have imagined in my wildest dreams.”
Her hands remained in place, but were no longer moving. A hushed quality had invaded the air between them. “I won’t disappoint you.”
He felt the heat of her on his back. As they stared at each other, her breathing deepened and her fingers contracted.
“What makes you the best, Ray?” He wanted to better understand her, all of her. “Men are stronger, with more endurance. They can be taught anything you’ve been taught, right? So why you?”
She answered without hesitation. “Just as you can’t believe it, no one else can either. That’s an advantage that I use. No one sees me as a threat until it’s too late.” She squeezed his shoulders, breaking the moment of intimacy with camaraderie, and turned to leave the room. “I know when to brazen it out, when to make my move. Because I’m smaller and lighter, I can slip in and out of camps without making a sound. I don’t play macho games, and most importantly, I never lose my focus.”
&nbs
p; “Never?”
She looked back at him and slowly shook her head. “Doesn’t matter how tempting the distraction might be.”
Was she saying he tempted her? He couldn’t have been more stunned if she’d plopped into his lap and kissed him. “Ray . . .”
“No. Don’t say it. Whatever it is, just let it go.” Her eyes, deep and mysterious, held his for a long moment. Then she whispered, “Good night, Eli.” And she was gone.
The whispering woke her.
Feminine whispering.
Ray jerked up in her bed, alert to danger but disoriented by the strange room, the soft bed, and the expensive sheets. In less than a second, everything fell into place. Eli. She’d left him sitting at the kitchen table on the assumption he’d soon retire. Instead, he’d invited over company? That didn’t make any sense.
Straining her ears to hear, Ray could just make out Eli’s voice, quiet but firm and determined. There was silence, then more whispering—and the unmistakable sound of a soft female moan.
That bastard.
Ray didn’t hesitate. She slipped out of bed and, not bothering to dress properly, cracked her door open to eavesdrop. She couldn’t see down the hall but she no longer needed to. Eli had a female guest, and he was obviously being romantic.
Indignation hit her like a slap in the face.
Hadn’t he been overwhelmed with concern for his baby brother only hours before? Hadn’t she forced herself to offer comfort when she was so lousy at doing so?
She should have known the truth. Despite seeming different, Eli was wealthy and the rich never concerned themselves long with anything other than their own pleasure.
She knew she wasn’t being fair, but damn it, she’d lain awake for over an hour trying to get him out of her mind, trying to reconcile just how different he really was from the other men who’d hired her.
Trying to dredge up that damned focus she’d bragged about.
Ray was tired and suddenly quite irritable. They had a job to do in the morning and they both needed their rest. If he’d wanted a last-minute romp, he could have at least been quiet so she could sleep through it.
Having made up her mind, Ray flipped her disheveled bangs off her forehead, pulled her thin olive green men’s undershirt down so it covered her panties, and strolled nonchalantly down the hall. Stealth was her middle name; her bare feet made no sound on the plush carpeting and her compressed lips ensured that even her breath was silent.
She slipped into the room without either of them noticing, giving her a chance to observe. Immediately, she realized that Eli wasn’t quite the participant she’d imagined. He tried valiantly to disengage himself from the clinging woman. His success was nominal.
Though the female looked small and delicate—a deliberate affectation, no doubt—she had the tenacity of a cat determined to get attention. She rubbed herself against Eli the same way a cat curled around your legs.
Ray observed her with objective criticism and had to admit she looked classy. And definitely moneyed. Her pale blond hair, styled to skim her shoulders with each move of her head, had professional streaks. Her simple tan dress was tailored but still managed to emphasize her boobs and backside to draw masculine attention.
Narrowing her eyes in disgust, Ray leaned one shoulder against the wall, crossed her ankles, and folded her arms over her breasts. With a discreet “Ahem” she finally and quite suddenly drew their attention.
Eli pulled free of the woman’s hold and his gaze zeroed in on Ray like a beacon.
The woman was speechless for several seconds before she gasped. “Eli, who is this person?”
Eli’s attention never moved from Ray. But it did move all over her, slowly, thoroughly, from the top of her rumpled head to the tips of her bare toes. Ray could feel that look scorching her, touching on her like a heated breath. Strangely, though she wasn’t cold, goose bumps rose on her exposed skin and she became suddenly, severely aware of just how little she wore.
The undershirt concealed every part of her body that proclaimed her a woman, but still, it clung to her, the neck scooped low, the armholes wide so that the tops and sides of her breasts were visible. It molded over her upper thighs, stopping just short of revealing her panties. Used to being in predicaments where modesty had no place, Ray was surprised to feel her cheeks heating in concordance with Eli’s rapt observation.
Of course, he noticed. The flare of heat in his eyes told her so. His slight, nearly imperceptible smile told her so. His carefully drawn in breath told her so.
To regain her equilibrium, Ray said to him, “Who am I, Eli? It’s up to you.” Without knowing who the other woman was or what she knew of Eli’s intentions, it seemed safest to leave the story up to him.
As if he’d only just then remembered the other woman, Eli turned his attention back to her with a frown. “I told you I’d be busy for a while, Jane. You shouldn’t be here.”
Jane’s gaze skipped between the two of them and it didn’t take a mind reader to know she’d drawn some hasty and incorrect conclusions. But to Ray’s surprise, she didn’t get angry at the suspicious presence of another woman.
She pouted.
Her bottom lip stuck out and she stroked Eli’s arm while pressing her breasts against him. “I missed you, Eli. You wouldn’t tell me where you were going or why, or how long you’d be away. Of course, now I understand.” She emphasized that with a pointed glance at Ray.
Ray wanted to puke over the nauseating display. “Here we go with the assumptions again.”
Eli gave Ray a quelling frown before peeling the woman off his arm. “I didn’t tell you, Jane, because it doesn’t concern you.”
“Of course it does.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, but Ray could still hear her—just as Jane intended. “You were forced to resort to . . . her type, because I’ve denied you.”
Ray scoffed. “My type?” How ridiculous. She wasn’t a woman a man would go to for that sort of thing. The very idea of it made her laugh.
Judging by his glare, Eli didn’t share her humor.
“But Eli, you can send her away now.” Jane’s smile trembled, shy and so sickeningly sweet, Ray’s teeth started to ache. “I came to tell you I’m ready. I simply hadn’t realized how . . . desperate you had gotten.”
Jane was a small woman, and it seemed to Ray that Eli had to look down a great distance just to frown at her. Not that it had any visible effect on good old Jane. She clung like a limpet, cooing and puckering and turning Ray’s stomach with the overblown display of affection.
If I ever coo at a man, Ray thought privately, I hope someone shoots me.
She should probably leave and give them their privacy, but she wouldn’t. She was responsible for Eli until the mission ended successfully, and he did need his sleep. Both those reasons were plausible enough to suit Ray, so she didn’t budge from her position on the wall.
And then Jane slipped her little hand into Eli’s open shirt, stroking him, toying with him, and Ray got a brief glimpse of his chest. It looked warm and hard, sprinkled with curling dark hair.
Fascinated, Ray took in the play with the same attention she’d give a peep show, but the show only lasted a moment before Eli forcibly set Jane a respectable distance from the undeniable lure of his body.
His shirt, however, remained open, and Ray continued to admire his obvious strength and fitness. She hadn’t expected that from a man of wealth and leisure. She’d expected him to be soft. She’d expected him to be unappealing.
Assumptions. She shook her head, knowing herself to be as guilty as most.
“Jane,” Eli warned as she tried to snuggle closer again. “Ray isn’t here for that and you owe her an apology for suggesting such a thing.”
“Really?”
Jane seemed pleased that Ray wouldn’t be occupying Eli’s bed after all. How she’d come to such an asinine conclusion in the first place left Ray boggled. If the woman had clear vision, she had to have noticed Ray wasn’t exactly a femme fatale. She co
uld kick Eli’s ass, but no way could she seduce him.
“Then why is she here, Eli, in your home, dressed—or rather, undressed—like that?”
Ray saw the muscles in his jaw flex. “She’s here because I hired her to do a job. And she’s dressed like that because she was in bed, as I should be, and we woke her.”
Jane wouldn’t be that easily appeased. Her eyes slanted toward Ray with raw suspicion. “What job?”
Growling in frustration, Eli briefly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he looked toward Ray. She grinned, enjoying his predicament.
Giving up, he explained, “Ray is a guide to help me get my brother back.”
Ray took offense at being termed a mere guide, but held her tongue. Jane obviously wasn’t about to believe such a thing anyway.
“What kind of guide runs around half naked? And why is she spending the night here?”
Eli lost his patience. “That’s enough, Jane. It’s time for you to leave.”
Throwing herself against him, Jane gave Eli no option but to catch her. Over the top of her head, he glowered at Ray.
Now how was this supposed to be her fault?
Surely he didn’t expect her to offer some magical solution. The workings of the average female mind had always been a mystery to her. Eli likely understood women better than she ever would.
Jane started crying, which didn’t surprise Ray in the least. The woman had the appearance of a professional watering pot—her hair was pale, her complexion was pale, and she cried without smudging her makeup even a little. Very professional.
Eli struggled to free himself without actually hurting the woman. Jane’s narrow shoulders squared and her tears miraculously disappeared. “I’m going with you.”
Eli groaned, stuck one hand in his hair, and knotted his fingers. He looked ready to detonate.
Ray decided to take pity on him. “No, you’re not. Eli will just have to make do without your company for a few days, because there’s no way I’m going to be responsible for the both of you.”
Jane stood frozen in appalled disbelief. “Eli would be responsible for me, not you!”
