Tempted Into Danger

by Melissa Cutler

  “Oh,” she sighed with a shudder. She wove her fingers into his damp hair as residual pulses of bliss fluttered through her. “That was...”

  He nuzzled the hollow of her throat. “Yeah, it was.”

  She nibbled his earlobe, right at the curl at the top. She loved his ears. The incongruity that something so delicate could exist on a man who’d dedicated his life to being strong for those who couldn’t made her ache with love. She hugged him tighter. “Like breathing,” she said.

  He raised his head and melted her heart with a lazy, sated smile. “Better than breathing.” After a languid kiss, he smoothed her hair away from her face. “It’s time.”

  “For what?”

  “For me to take you to bed and let my mouth get to work. Hold on to me. I’ll carry you.”

  But she was already holding on, and though she knew she’d have to soon, she didn’t see how she’d ever be able to let go of him.

  * * *

  “Marcos Aponte,” Vanessa whispered as her finger traced the outline of the muscles on his chest and stomach. It was at least the tenth time she’d said it, like his name was a new term in a foreign language she was trying to memorize.

  He nuzzled her hair. “I like the way it sounds coming from you.”

  “I like it, too, but I’ll still call you Diego. It’s safer for your family.”

  “Yeah, that would be best. The only people outside my family who know my real name are Ryan, you and the ICE director who hired me. I’d like to keep it that way.”

  They lay in the bed skin-to-skin, the sheets kicked down, their bodies spent. Diego could lie like that with her forever, but dawn was coming too fast. Dawn and a million dangers Vanessa was determined to walk into. He still didn’t understand why she had to do it.

  He tightened his arms around her. “Tell me how I can convince you not to do this bank job.”

  “My mind’s made up.”

  “You don’t have anything to prove, you know. Not to anybody, and especially not to me.”

  “I do, actually. To myself. I’ve spent most of my life chasing people I love who’ve left me. I don’t want to be that person anymore. I finally feel like I’m coming into my own. This is what I’m supposed to do with my life. Use the gift I was given to help people. This is my chance to prove to myself that I can be somebody who makes a difference in this world.”

  Absolutely killed him that she was only now beginning to understand her worth. “You’ve made a difference to me, more than you’ll ever know. And with that algorithm you created, you don’t have to risk your life to do good in this world.”

  “Today I do. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do everything I could to keep those girls from being sold. My long-term plan, when it’s safe for me to come out of WitSec, is to see if the U.S. government might be interested in hiring me to run the algorithm to track bulk cash smugglers. You said ICE has a whole division devoted to that, right? So obviously there’s a need. It’s time for me to step up and fill that need.”

  Wasn’t a bad plan, even if it was still way more dangerous a career than he wanted for her. He made a mental note to call his contact at the Bulk Cash Smuggling Center. There was no doubt in his mind they’d hire her in a heartbeat, but he wasn’t going to suggest it until he had a handle on the security precautions the department took for its employees.

  “You start shutting down cartels’ and smugglers’ money supply, you’ll land yourself on the kill list of a lot of bad people,” he said. “What you’re experiencing this week is only the tip of the iceberg.”

  “I know, and I’m at peace with the risk. If I change my name and keep a low profile, I don’t see how the criminals I stop will ever find out my identity.”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  “That’s probably true, but I’m going to do it anyway.” She splayed her fingers over his tattoo. “You opened my eyes to what I could be and there’s no going back.”

  “The path I chose, I don’t want that for you. It’d damage you. The scars I have inside and out, they’ll never go away.”

  She slid her hand up his neck, behind his ear. “Scars never do. But you taught me that somebody has to take a stand and do what’s right.”

  Rotten trick, using his own words against him. They probably taught her that in chick school. “Yeah, but that somebody doesn’t have to be you.”

  She levered up on her elbow. “You want me to start singing ‘Man in the Mirror’?”

  A laugh rumbled through him. “Please, no.” Wrapping his hands around the juicy curves of her backside, he pulled her on top of him. “For a math geek, you sure do play dirty.”

  She settled her thighs over his hips, rotating a bit. Unbelievable, because he’d thought he was all tapped out, but his body stirred to life again.

  Leaning forward, she set her hands on either side of his head, caging him. “You know what they say about math geeks, right?”

  “They’re great kissers and have a soft spot for black ops soldiers with bad attitudes?”

  She grinned broadly. “We’re a calculating bunch.”

  He laughed, though he had no idea why. It was a terrible joke. “Oh, my god, woman. That’s painful. I’m going to have to kiss you to recover from that.”

  He guided her lips to his and before long, they were both breathing hard again.

  Vanessa pulled her mouth away and drew circles on his cheek. “I have something I want to talk to you about before I forget.”

  “It’s not another bad joke, is it? ’Cause I’m still smarting from the last one.”

  “I love that joke.” He groaned and she pressed a finger to his lips. “Anyway, as I was saying, I need your help. I’ve decided I should have a Leroy plan before we go to the bank, but I don’t have the slightest idea how to go about it.”

  He still hated that she was determined to go through with the bank operation despite the danger, but he knew now there would be no changing her mind. “You’re right. You do need one. Since you know the bank layout better than we do, figure out how you’d get out of the building and I’ll plan the rest.”

  She kissed him. “Thank you.”

  His body was getting restless with all the talking they were doing. “If I help you with your Leroy, then you’ve got to do something for me.”

  “Name it.”

  “Scoot up a little higher, would you?”

  With his hands on her waist pulling her, she inched her knees up near his ribs. “Like that?”

  “Not quite. Higher.”

  More scooting, this time hitting her knees on his armpits.

  First one side, then the other, he snuck his hands under her knees and lifted them above his shoulders as he slid down, lining his mouth up exactly where he wanted it to be. “That’s more like it.”

  Her hands tangled in his hair. “You’re insatiable.”

  He planted kisses on the silken skin of her inner thighs. “Only with you. No one but you.”

  Then he set his hands on her hips and guided her onto his waiting tongue.

  * * *

  Vanessa didn’t know where to look. She felt awkward, but clearly she was the only one.

  She leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping coffee and staying out of the way. The bank operation might hinge on her, but all the planning and prep work fell on the shoulders of Diego and his crew.

  Alicia wandered in to refill her mug. Vanessa wasn’t a prude or anything, but she still averted her eyes. Weird to see a near-stranger drinking coffee in hot pink panties and a matching bra with a silver-handled knife sewn into the band.

  “What’s up?” Alicia asked.

  “There’s a lot of men here walking around in their underwear. I don’t know where to look. I’m trying not to check them out, but it’s not working. I think t
he combined body fat percentage of all the men in the living room would be less than one percent.”

  Alicia chuckled. “Yeah, they’re all pretty hot, aren’t they?”

  “Are you guys always this free and easy before an operation?”

  “It all boils down to common sense. You can’t strap a knife to your thigh while your pants are on.”

  Vanessa sipped her coffee. “Words to live by.”

  Alicia dropped a heaping spoonful of sugar into her mug. “Look, these are the people I risk my life with every day. Modesty flew out the window years ago. When we run covert ops, like today, we’ve got to be discreet. Weapons go under the clothes as much as we can.”

  John wandered in, clad in skimpy red briefs, two thigh holsters, and two leather straps across his chest, one that sheathed a long-handled knife and the other with a gun. Of its own volition, her eyes darted to his bulge. She caught herself looking and flicked her gaze to the wall, her face heating. Oops.

  Alicia sputtered her coffee. “A red bikini, John? We have a civilian present.”

  “Pot and kettle, Phoenix. You’re wearing fluorescent pink.” John grabbed a mug and reached for the pot.

  “Yes, but I can get away with bright colors and pretty underwear because I’m a woman.”

  He slammed the pot down with a bit too much gusto. “Trust me, I noticed.” He turned his back on Alicia. “Besides, you can take it, can’t you, Vanessa?” He arched an eyebrow and struck a pose. “Or am I too much man for you?”

  Diego prowled up behind him and shoved him in the back, sloshing coffee onto the floor. Vanessa couldn’t decide if he was being playful or tapping into residual anger from their argument the day before. “Give it a rest before I confiscate all your banana hammocks and burn ’em.”

  Diego, dressed in black boxer briefs and socks, with guns and knives strapped around his body, was about the sexiest thing Vanessa had ever seen. A rush of pride crashed through her at the realization that, at least temporarily, he was hers. And in her heart, he always would be.

  “You can’t go bagging on my personal style when you don’t have any,” John said with mock indignity.

  “I have a style. It’s called ‘what can I grab that’s clean.’” He slid his arm around Vanessa’s waist and nodded toward the bedroom. “Can I talk to you alone? I’ve got something for you.”

  “Hey, now. You can’t have her for too long,” Alicia said. “I want to go over our strategy one last time.”

  “I’ll be fast. Ten minutes, tops.” He ushered her down the hall.

  “I’ve got a comment I could make to that, but I’m gonna refrain out of respect for the lady,” John hollered after them.

  “Smart move,” Diego called back. To Vanessa he added, “I swear, every sniper I’ve met has been off his rocker in one way or another. John’s a little nutso, but he’s the best at what he does.” Shaking his head, he closed the bedroom door behind them.

  Chapter 19

  “I like John,” Vanessa said after the door closed.

  Diego scowled. “You should be careful about saying stuff like that, because—and I never knew this about me—but it turns out I’m the jealous type.”

  Vanessa faked some surprise. “You don’t say.”

  But all she could think about was the wild nature show she saw about wolves and how there was only room in a pack for one alpha male, which meant that every so often he had to reestablish his dominance when another male got too big for his wolfy britches.

  “Big shocker, I know. I pretty much want to blindfold you until John, Ryan and Rory put their clothes on. Then I want to take some of Alicia’s vampy lipstick and write ‘Don’t even think about it’ on your chest.”

  “I don’t think my chest is big enough for all those words. Besides, after the things you did to me last night, I hadn’t even noticed there were other men in the condo.” She felt none of her usual guilt over lying. A little white lie to massage a male ego was perfectly permissible, she and Jordan had decided shortly after her marriage.

  He smiled. “My fib detector’s going off, but I still like your answer.” From on top of the dresser, he picked up a fold of cash. “Here’s the best I can do for your Leroy on such short notice. This is all the money I have on me.”

  He set it in her hand, then added a scrap of paper on top. “Here’s the combination and number of a locker at the Colón train depot. There’s more money in there and extra cell phones. You don’t have a passport, so leaving the country without help is out of the question. If you get to the point where you need your Leroy, that means I’m either dead or incapacitated, so I’m also giving you two phone numbers.”

  He removed the lid of a ballpoint pen and took her arm, turning it to expose the inside of her forearm. “This first one is for the head of ICE, Richard Piastro. He’s my boss’s boss’s boss and the man who hired me. Name drop Marcos Aponte and he’ll get the point that you’re an important caller. The second number is my crew’s private voice mail line. If we get separated, you call this number and I’ll come get you. If I’m dead, someone in my crew will get you.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  “Neither do I, but a Leroy’s a last-resort option, so we have to consider the impossible.”

  “You’re right. Thank you.” She secured the money and paper in her skirt pocket and pulled out the note she’d scribbled that morning. “Here. The web address where my algorithm’s stored and my access code. In case the unthinkable happens.”

  His eyes tight, he ripped the paper in half and stuffed the code in his sock. After a cursory second look at the web address, he walked to the bathroom and flushed it down the toilet.

  “There’s one more part to your Leroy.” Back in the room, he motioned to the bed where a small handgun and holster sat. “It’s time to teach you how to handle a firearm. Other than yesterday, had you ever shot a gun before?”

  Her mind balked at the notion of using a gun. Not that she was scared per se, but there was an inherent volatility in guns that intimidated her. Statistically, mathematically, guns weren’t a safe bet.

  “Growing up, I used to go hunting with Jordan’s family, but I’ve only used a hunting rifle, and only a few times.” Those trips with Jordan’s family were more about pretending to be part of her friend’s loving clan than killing birds and rabbits.

  He nodded while doing a safety check to make sure the gun was clear of ammo. “We can work with that. At least you already know about the kick and the noise. Let’s get you outfitted. Take off your shirt.”

  While she unbuttoned the silky turquoise dress shirt Alicia had provided her with that morning, Diego removed the gun and strapped the holster around her ribs above the seam of her black pencil skirt.

  “I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you never need to consider pulling your piece. If you get to the point where you have to think about your gun, then I’ve failed you. And I never fail. But I’m not sending you in unarmed.”

  “I understand.” She took the gun when he offered it, holding the cold metal and plastic at the end of a limp grip. It felt heavy and awkward, though it couldn’t have weighed all that much.

  “We’re going to see if we can plant the seed of some muscle memory in your body, because if something goes wrong, you’re not going to have time to figure it out.” He took the gun from her and secured it in the holster. “Draw your piece and aim it at the lamp shade. Let me see your form.”

  She reached behind her to draw, but she had to torque her body at an odd angle to get her hand around the gun handle.

  Diego adjusted the holster nearer to her side. “Try that again.”

  This time, she cleared the gun from the holster and brought it around to aim at the lamp shade.

  Behind her, Diego adjusted her grip and stance. “Don’
t tense your shoulder. Arm loose.”

  She exhaled and worked to relax. He put his hand on her hips. “Shift one leg back to make an upside-down T. It’s more stable than parallel stance.” She swung a leg back. “There. You got it now. Holster the piece and draw again.”

  She did. With his hands on her hips, he mirrored her movement, then made adjustments.

  “Better. This time, start facing forward. Pull and pivot at the same.” He waited until she’d returned the gun to its holster, then, “Draw.”

  She stepped back and drew the gun, aiming at the lampshade. But it seemed the more she did it, the more nervous she got. Her hands were sweating, her heart beating fast. The danger of her situation was becoming more real with every pull of the weapon.

  “That’s better. You’re on your way to earning a spot on my crew.”

  She tried a smile. “I don’t think I’m cut out to be a black ops agent.”

  “Like it or not, that’s exactly what you are today.”

  Her stomach dropped, erasing the tenuous smile from her lips. She holstered the gun and wiped her hands on her skirt. He must have sensed her rising anxiety because he moved behind her again, one hand spanning her hip, the other her shoulder.

  “Draw.”

  He rotated her, moving his hand with hers as she pulled and aimed the gun.

  “Arms straight, but not locked, legs braced. You’re gripping the gun too hard. Relax your hand.”

  “It’s a little hard to relax knowing in a couple hours we’re going to be risking our lives. I know you do that all the time, but I don’t and I’m scared.”

  The hand on her hip curled around her waist, pulling her close. “Am I going to fail you today?” he asked in a low voice close to her ear.

  “No.”

  “But you have to prepare for it anyway. You came up with your own way out of the building if all hell breaks loose?”

  “Yes.”

  He brushed kisses along her shoulder. “You have the cash I gave you?”

  She nodded. His lips reached her nape. The slightest feel of teeth nibbled up her neck.