by Elle James
The sound of someone clearing his throat broke through the intense and deeply stirring kiss, and Rip tore his mouth from Tracie’s long enough to acknowledge the blue-shirted servant.
“Dinner will be served on the hour.”
Rip was surprised to see that the sun had begun its descent to the horizon. Shadows had lengthened and darkness would soon settle over the hacienda. After supper they’d load up in the vehicles and return to the little town of Colinas Rocosa and then the adventure would begin.
Hugging Tracie close one last time, he whispered into her ear. “You don’t have to come.”
She pushed her hands against his shoulders and stared into his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“Tonight will be dangerous. You can stay here where it’s safe and where I won’t have to worry about you.”
“Look, mister, don’t patronize me.” She shoved against him, twin flags of color flying her cheeks. “I might not be a SEAL, but I’m just as much a part of this team as Julio and Carlos. More so. I’ve been on it longer than they have.”
“By a day,” he pointed out, loving the fire in her green eyes as her ire spiked.
Tracie pushed at his chest. “A day in an agent’s life is like seven years.”
Rip laughed out loud. “Now you’re talking about dogs.”
“I mean it. I’m going.” She caught his face in her hands and stared hard into his eyes. “Are you listening? I’m going.”
“Okay, okay. You’re going. But I’m calling the shots. What I say goes. No questions asked. Agreed?” He kissed the tip of her nose.
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t do that. I’m being serious.”
“Yeah, me too. Agreed?” He didn’t move, refusing to break eye contact. On this, he wouldn’t waver. “Agree and go, or refuse and stay behind,” he challenged.
She breathed in and blew the air out her nose in a soft snort. “Agreed.”
He kissed the tip of her nose again. “You could have agreed with a little more enthusiasm.”
“Yeah and you could have asked with a little less force.” This time, she kissed the tip of his nose.
He liked it. “Why did you do that?”
She pressed her lips together. “To show you how irritating it is.”
“Well, I like it when you’re playful.”
“Don’t get used to it. This operation is almost over.”
“Maybe so, but we’re not.”
“You know how I feel.”
“Blah, blah, blah. You’re all talk.” He scooped her legs out from under her and tossed her into the water.
When she came up sputtering, she slapped at the water, sending a wave square into his face. “That was uncalled for.”
“Yeah, and you need to get your dancing shoes on. We leave right after supper.”
Her lips twisted in a saucy smile. “I’m not getting out until you do.”
Rip cringed at the thought of climbing out of the pool in the package-hugging suit. And his package had been far too inspired by his fake bride. “Fine.” Forcing a bravado that was hard to feel wearing such a tiny thing, he hiked his body up on the side of the pool and stood.
Tracie’s eyelids drooped and her nipples spiked beneath her bikini top. “You should wear that suit more often. It is totally you.”
“Shut up.” He dipped his foot in the water and sent a splash her way. “Now hurry up, or I’ll leave without you.”
“Like hell you will.” Tracie pulled herself up out of the water and raced ahead of him for the house, slipping a little on the wet concrete. They ran into the house, laughing all the way up the stairs to their bedroom.
Rip let Tracie hit the shower first, slowing down at the dresser, pretending to select his clothing. The way he felt at that moment, he couldn’t continue to resist her and he didn’t want to go back on his word. He refused to take her until she admitted there could be something between them on a long-term basis.
Standing at the window, he stared out over the jungle-covered hillside and wondered where he’d be next week and where Tracie would be.
“Hey.” A wet washcloth hit him in the side of the head and landed with a splat on the floor.
Rip turned to find Tracie standing in the doorway of the bathroom holding a towel up to her front.
“Aren’t you going to join me?” she asked, her voice low and sultry. Then she dropped the towel giving him a full-on view of what she had to offer. She turned and gave him the backside of the same and walked away, leaving the door open, inviting him to follow.
Holy hell.
All his good intentions flew out the window and he didn’t walk—he ran toward his destiny.
Chapter Eleven
Tracie ducked under the shower spray, sure she’d gotten to him this time. And she wasn’t disappointed when Rip’s arms slipped around her middle and pulled her back to his front.
“You play dirty, Agent Kosart.”
She leaned into him, letting her head fall back on his shoulder. “I do whatever it takes to get the job done.”
“Just because I’m here doesn’t mean I’ve given up.”
“It doesn’t?” She reached behind her to grasp his hips in her hands and press him closer. “I have you right where I want you.”
“And I’m telling you, this isn’t over when we leave here.”
“Whatever.”
He spun her around and into his arms. “Look, Tracie. I don’t know what’s happening between us. All I know is that I don’t want it to end. If you’re honest with yourself, neither do you.”
She walked her fingers up his chest and chin to press her pointer finger to his lips. “You talk a lot for a man. Shut up and make love to me.”
“Not without protection.”
Tracie reached behind a washcloth hanging on a rail and produced a foil packet like the ones he’d found in the draw the night before. “Is this what you’re talking about? While you weren’t a Boy Scout, I made a very good Girl Scout. I make it a point to always come prepared.”
Rip laughed out loud. “If you were a Girl Scout, I’m the king of England.”
“Well, Your Highness, you’re not getting any closer to making use of this royal gift.” She tore the edge of the packet with her teeth and removed the contents, rolling it down over his stiff shaft.
Rip scooped her legs out from under her and wrapped them around his waist. He turned, pressing her back against the cool stone tiles and positioning himself at her entrance. But he didn’t drive home.
Tracie wiggled, trying to lower herself over him, her body on fire, her core aching with the need for him to fill her. “What are you waiting for?” she moaned.
“You’re not ready yet.”
“Are you kidding me?” Trying again to take him into her, she gave up and glared at him.
He shook his head. “You’re not ready.” Then he set her on her feet and wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, tipping her head up to accept his kiss.
He took her mouth in a gentle joining, brushing softly over her lips, sliding into her mouth with his tongue.
Tracie rose on her toes, deepening the kiss, pressing her breasts against his naked chest, wanting to get so much closer to him.
Warm water ran down her back and between them, heating with the fire of their rising desire.
“Please,” she moaned.
But he didn’t press into her, instead, his lips trailed wet kisses down her chin and the length of her neck to the pebbled tips of her breasts.
Tracie arched her back, urging Rip to take more.
He obliged, sucking her nipple into his mouth, rolling it around on his tongue.
Tracie’s body undulated to the rhythm of Rip’s tongue. When he nibbled at her, she cried out and claspe
d the back of his head, forcing him to take more of her breast into his mouth.
When he’d finished with one, he moved to the other and paid it equal attention.
Everywhere Rip touched her, her body burned, her skin was so sensitive it rippled as he moved down her body, skimming across her abs.
He dropped to one knee on the shower tiles and parted her folds with his thumbs.
Tracie sucked in a deep breath and flattened her palms against the tile as he slid his tongue along the strip of flesh packed with a fiery bundle of nerve endings, each popping off a fresh round of sensations through her body.
Her belly clenched and her core heated, aching for him to fill her.
“Damn you, sailor,” she said through clenched teeth. “Come to me now.”
“Almost there,” he muttered, blowing a stream of warm air against her heated center, while water dripped over his head and shoulders.
Only she couldn’t concentrate past the tongue flicking, licking and sliding over her, drawing her taut like a fully extended bow string.
“I can’t...take...any...more.” One more touch of his magic tongue launched her over the edge, spinning her out of control. Her body jerked and spasmed as she shot into the stratosphere, tumbling past the moon in a passion-filled flight to the stars.
Still, he wouldn’t let up his attack on her senses, bringing her to a frenzied pitch before she fell back to earth.
“Now.” Grabbing his ears, she dragged him up her body. “Take me now,” she demanded in a desperate, gravelly voice she didn’t recognize.
Rip lifted her again, wrapping her legs around him, positioning his member at her entrance. He paused, his breathing ragged, his face tense. “Say you’ll see me again stateside.”
“Now?” she wailed.
“Say it.” He nudged her but refused to enter.
“For the love of Mike!” She pounded her fists on his shoulder. “Take me.”
“Not until you say it.”
“Fine! I’ll see you stateside.”
“A date,” he insisted.
“A date.” She squeezed her legs around his middle and lowered herself as he thrust upward.
They came together in a rush, her channel slick and ready.
Past the point of impatience, Tracie rose and fell, trying to set a fast-paced rhythm.
Rip growled and backed her against the shower wall. With one hand he pinned her wrists above her head. With the other hand, he held her steady while he slammed into her, over and over, picking up speed with every thrust.
Tracie whimpered, feeling herself climbing that slippery slope again, her body tensing with the promise of another shot at ecstasy.
One last thrust and she pitched over the edge.
Rip released her wrists and held her hips in both hands, buried as deeply as he could go, his member throbbing against the walls of her channel.
When Rip finally moved, he pressed his forehead to hers. “You drive a hard bargain,” he whispered, his voice unsteady.
“Me?” she laughed, feeling light and satiated. “You were the one doing all the driving.”
He breathed in and let go of the breath in a long, shaky sigh. Then he slapped her naked bottom. “We’d better hurry. Dinner will be on the table and Hector will be waiting for us to appear.”
Rip lifted her off him and set her on her feet.
Tracie was glad he didn’t let go immediately as her legs could barely support her. She laid her cheek on his chest, listening to the rapid beat of his heart. With a smile, she realized he’d been as affected as she was.
When she could stand on her own, he let go, discarded the condom, shampooed her hair and then his, and pulled her under the shower’s spray to rinse all the soap off her head and body.
In quick efficient movements he switched off the water and toweled her dry, then himself.
Feeling as limp as a wet noodle, Tracie let him, enjoying the swift vigor with which he ran the towel over her body, between her thighs and across her breasts. Her body responded to his touch her core heating all over again.
“Do we have to go to dinner?” she asked, her fingers skimming over his shoulders.
He took her hands in his, closing his eyes for a moment as if gathering his wits. “Sadly, yes. I came to Honduras to find a traitor. A man who was responsible for the deaths of a DEA agent and one of my SEAL brothers. I’d love to spend the rest of the night making love to you, but duty comes first.”
Tracie pushed back her rising desire. “You’re right. Duty comes first.” She twirled her towel into a tight twist and popped his thigh with it. “Get moving Mr. Gideon, you’re taking your bride out on the town to dance.”
* * *
RIP GLANCED AROUND at the colorful clothing and decorations lit up by twinkle lights in the middle of the town square of Colinas Rocosa. At one end of the square stood an old Spanish-style church that probably dated back to the early 1800s. The buildings on the other three sides of the square were dingy, chipped stucco structures that had seen better days. But tonight with the cheerful lights and the happy crowd spinning and dancing to the music from a local mariachi band, the place was somewhat magical.
Or would have been if they weren’t on full alert watching for Carmelo Delgado’s men to appear.
Rip spotted Carlos, Julio and the four men Hector had provided dressed to fit in with the crowd. Although the SEALs looked like the locals in most respects, the breadth of their shoulders made them stand out. Hector’s men came closer to fitting in. Though they were rugged, they hadn’t spent much time lifting weights or even working hard in the local fields to bulk up.
Rip had Carlos instruct them to take up positions at the four corners of the town square where a live band entertained the festival attendees.
“Come on, good-looking, dance with me.” Tracie grabbed his hand and dragged him into the middle of the crush of people. The tune was lively like the six other tunes she’d insisted he dance to. He liked to dance all right, and so far, Delgado and his thugs hadn’t made a showing.
Their efforts to find the one responsible for the weapons sales had reached an impasse. If they weren’t able to tag one of Delgado’s men with a tracking device tonight, they’d have to pay another visit to his plantation and hope to get close enough to tag one there.
Or they could sneak in at night and interrogate Delgado himself. He appeared to have some authority over the men who’d carried the illegally purchased weapons.
Tracie danced close, wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in. “Anything?”
If she meant was he feeling anything, that would be a big fat yes. Mainly her body against his. If she meant had he seen anything of Delgado, which he was sure was what she’d meant, then... “No.”
Tracie danced away from him, her bright red, layered skirt swirled out around her legs. She’d told him of the black jeans she’d worn rolled up beneath the skirt, but even as she twirled, they weren’t visible to him or others. On her feet, were a pair of black ankle-high boots. Though most people wouldn’t think the boots went with the dress, Rip thought they were damned sexy and could imagine them wrapped around his waist.
He grabbed her hand and twirled her around and back into his arms.
When the song came to an end, another song began immediately. Tired and thirsty, Rip tugged Tracie’s hand and led her to the edge of the crowd. “Do you want me to find you a bottle of water?”
Her eyes widened, a faint sheen of perspiration made her pretty face glow. She wore very little makeup and her face had that open, earthy look that reminded him of the great outdoors and wide-open spaces. With her hair hanging loose around her shoulders, Tracie looked like a young girl barely out of her teens.
Rip knew better, though. She was a seasoned, former FBI agent bent on going after truth and just
ice for Hank Derringer’s Covert Cowboys, Inc. And she wore the red skirt just as beautifully as the pretty village girls.
She smiled up at him and then her happy glow faded, her gaze shifting to a point behind him. “Isn’t that Delgado?” she asked.
Without appearing too obvious, Rip eased around to stand beside her. As soon as he did, he could pick out the large, gray-haired Honduran. “Yup. That would be Delgado.”
He had one of his men on either side of him and several bringing up the rear.
People moved out of his way as he stepped into the square, either because of the heavy scowl on his face or the fact his men carried semiautomatic weapons.
“Looks like he spotted us,” Rip confirmed.
Tracie forced a smile of welcome to her lips and spoke through her teeth. “Get ready. He doesn’t appear to be very happy.”
“Probably still mad that we eluded his thugs.” Rip pushed his lips up into a smile and held out his hand in greeting to the older man.
Delgado took it, but didn’t shake it. “What are you doing here?”
Rip grinned wider. “We’re here for the festival and the dancing. My wife loves to dance.”
“You should have left when you still could,” Delgado warned.
“I’m not good at taking orders.” Rip continued to smile even though his jaw strained under the effort. “You need to understand that if we’re going to be doing business together.”
Delgado’s brows rose and his men pushed closer. “I have not agreed to do business with you.”
“Then I’ll go around you to the man in charge. I’m only here for a day. Two, max. If you are not the authority I need to speak to, I’ll have to ask you to take me to him.”
Delgado snorted. “That is not possible.”
“Then we have nothing to talk about.” Rip snapped his fingers.
Carlos and Julio moved in behind Delgado’s men and jammed pistols into their backs. In Spanish, Carlos warned them not to move or they’d blow holes in them.
