by Zoe York
But he’d complete it successfully and protect the woman he loved.
That thought should have shocked him, but it didn’t. He’d sensed something special about Nola the first time he laid eyes on her, and her strength during the following days had only reinforced it. That he’d been willing to risk his very existence for hers was the last bit of confirmation.
He loved Nola Bailey.
So he’d protect her, make it so that she got out of here. And then he’d return her to her real life.
— FIFTEEN —
“Here,” Cruz said.
He sped up, moving toward the small bungalow with Nola one step behind him. After hours of walking, the foliage had gotten thinner, the ground more even, and then they’d eventually emerged from the jungle. The bright, low-hanging full moon had lit their path, and Cruz’s heart had soared when he’d spotted the resort. It was actually a spaced cluster of small, isolated houses designed to give the visitors an authentic Vietnamese countryside feel.
And even better, it was the perfect place to stop and regroup.
After disabling the wired security system, he opened the lock and entered. The small structure had a tiny kitchenette, living room/bedroom combination, and bathroom. It was just the kind of place Nola had probably imagined she’d be spending her vacation.
He turned to her and was driven to action when he saw her face. She shivered, her teeth clattering, but probably not from fear. Somewhere in the hours they’d been in the jungle, her heat had faded. There was little room for fear with everything else they’d faced, the weather being one of their many foes. The heavy, humid air had turned frigid, and her thin T-shirt and pants hadn’t provided nearly enough protection, made clear by her shivers and the alarming bluish tint of her lips.
But even still, lips blue, face ashen, hair littered with leaves and twigs and who knew what else, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
And she was alive.
Cruz moved quickly, locked the door and made sure no one was approaching.
Then, he grabbed the small comm that he’d kept in his pocket, praying that it still worked. He turned it on and flipped through the channels before he landed on the agreed-upon frequency.
Sam’s voice bellowed through the comm immediately. “Cruz!”
“Yeah. We need assistance. Don’t know coordinates, but we’re about ten miles away from the attack site. A small resort, private, exclusive.”
“Got it, man. Ace and Saint are with me. I’ll figure out the location, and we’ll get there stat.”
“Good.”
“Cruz…” Sam said, and Cruz could hear the question in his voice.
“She’s fine,” Cruz said, turning his eyes toward Nola.
“Cool,” Sam said, sounding relieved.
He disconnected and then went to Nola. “The guys are on the way and will be here soon.”
Nola glanced at him, and between her shivers and the flatness in her eyes, he couldn’t interpret what she was thinking. Feeling. He pulled her close, holding her soft curves against him, trying to transfer some of his heat to her. Her shivers slowed, but not enough for his comfort, and Cruz pulled back, grabbed her stiff-fingered hands, and headed toward the bathroom.
“This is nice, isn’t it?” he asked once he’d flipped on the light.
It was, the marble inlay, rosewood and teak furniture, and huge eight-person shower, one of the nicest he’d seen. But even on his best day, Cruz didn’t care about interior design. He knew he felt compelled to speak, babble like an idiot if necessary to get some response from Nola, to know she was here with him, she hadn’t been lost.
He turned the water on full blast and then, without bothering to remove his shoes and clothing or hers, pulled her into the large shower and closed the clear glass door. The glass fogged immediately, and Cruz felt his own chill receding as the steam built. But Nola’s lips were still blue-tinted and her body stiff, so he sat her on the bench in the corner of the shower and kneeled in front of her.
Cruz rubbed her fingers between his until the stiffness faded and she began to wiggle them. Then he moved to the other hand, watching her intently, feeling huge relief once the blueness had completely faded and her skin again glowed healthy brown.
The water had matted her thin braids to her head and face, but Nola didn’t seem to mind. He plucked leaves and twigs out of her hair and when she smiled slightly but enough he couldn’t miss it, his relief intensified.
He dropped her hands and turned his attention to her feet, grateful Sam had been smart enough to secure boots for her before they’d set off. Even the nicer sneakers that she’d worn wouldn’t have helped her out in the jungle, so though her calves were marked by vine lashes, her feet were probably okay.
That was confirmed when she pulled the boots off, but though they were unmarked, Cruz reached down to grasp them to make sure they were warm.
“You like that?” Cruz said when a corner of Nola’s mouth perked up again.
“I could get used to it,” she said.
Her voice was muffled by the flow of the water, but Cruz thought she sounded more like herself. Remarkable given what she’d been through, but then again, Nola had already proven herself remarkable so many times in the short period of time he’d known her.
He kept his gaze on hers, enjoying her now serene expression, and then he moved his hands up and massaged her solid calves and then traced his fingers at the back of her knees, which made her shiver, even though his touch was muted by her clothing.
When he reached her waistband, he opened the button of her pants. “Lift your hips,” he said.
With a soft sigh, she complied, and Cruz slid her ruined pants and underwear down her legs and cast them aside.
Seeing her like this excited him, but that excitement was secondary. Right now, he needed to take care of her. So he pushed aside the arousal that had him almost light-headed and focused on his task. He moved his fingers up and lifted the equally ruined T-shirt off and away, which left Nola in nothing but her bra.
The wet white satin contrasted beautifully against her skin, simultaneously sweet and sexy, uncomplicated at first glance but so much more than met the eye. Just like Nola.
Her nipples puckered under his gaze, and Cruz couldn’t stop himself from rasping his fingers across the tight buds and then filling his hands with her succulent flesh once he’d pulled the wet bra off her. He could have stayed there forever, touching her, watching her watch him as he touched her.
She grimaced when he stood abruptly and left the shower. After he quickly discarded his clothes, he returned to her, the warmth of the steamy water nothing compared to the heat between them. Or the exposure he felt. They were both bare, but Cruz felt bared, naked to Nola in spirit as much as he was in body.
It was fleeting, he knew, couldn’t last outside of the insane circumstances that had brought them together. But that didn’t matter now. All that mattered was being with her in this moment. He’d grabbed a thick sponge, and he gripped it tight and moved to Nola.
As he stroked her with the sponge, she stroked him with her hands, her touch that mix of shyness and boldness and sweetness that was pure Nola. And then she moved closer, her rounded thigh brushing against the top of his engorged cock.
Need seized him, but as much as he wanted her, and he wanted her very, very badly, he wanted to take care of her even more. It seemed she had other ideas.
“Nola…”
The word came out as a moan, a whisper, a prayer as she fisted him and slid her hand along his shaft, moving slowly, deliberately, the hot water that streamed down his chest and the precum that leaked from his slit aiding her strokes.
He dropped his hands and released the sponge when, hand still wrapped around his shaft, she moved closer, pressed her soft lips against his collarbone. Trailed them down his pec, licked at his nipple with sharp little swipes.
Her lips on him, her hands on him, her tongue on him, proved to be too much. Cruz moved until Nol
a was flush against the wall. Her lips and tongue still teased his chest, and he imagined how they would feel on his cock, wondered what it would be like to lose himself in the warm cavern of her mouth. But at this moment, he knew it wouldn’t be enough.
So he reached for one of her full thighs and set it on his hip and then repeated the motion with the other. The heat of her sex radiated against him, a siren’s call he would answer. When he shifted, his cock moved unerringly to her center, and he felt Nola’s need and urgency in the arch of her back, saw it in the depths of her eyes, so intense, it nearly matched his own.
With his first easy thrust, her silken walls pulled at him, beckoning him deeper. Cruz guided himself inside her, moving deeper and deeper until not an inch separated them.
Being inside her before had been incredible, but this was something more.
He’d almost lost her, had just only realized how much she meant to him, and to have the chance to be so close to her again was the greatest blessing.
That thought echoing in his mind, he thrust into her, her soft body trapped between him and the wall. And Nola was with him, every panted-out breath and low moan proving to him that he wasn’t alone in this.
Soon, too soon, Cruz felt the tingle that signaled his impending release, so with one hand braced against the wall, he used the other to reach between their bodies and strum Nola’s clit, teasing and stroking the tight bundle of nerves until Nola called out again and again, her voice breaking over the harsh cries.
When her body stiffened, her already snug walls clamped down even tighter, squeezing Cruz’s cock in the most delicious vise, and he lost the battle for control. Cum shot from him in hard spurts as the most intense climax he’d ever experienced raced through him. And as amazing as it was, it was nothing compared to the feeling of Nola against him, her skin wet and warm against his, the faint pounding of her heart under the palm he’d placed between her breasts. Her eyes, so sweet, so beautiful, watching him.
He knew he had no choice, but Cruz wondered where he’d find the strength to let her go.
••••
“Put this on,” Cruz said as he handed Nola a thick resort bathrobe.
She was soaking wet, knew that her hair was probably a mess, but she didn’t care a bit.
She’d made it out of that jungle, Cruz was safe, and the passionate encounter in the shower would be enough to fuel her fantasies for the rest of her life. Nola had known her life was safe, staid, but this entire experience, Cruz, had shown her how little she’d lived before. She’d never been so scared, but she’d never felt so alive, so loved. She knew that once this adventure was over, she’d never feel that love again.
Once she’d put on the robe and settled on the small settee, she stared at Cruz, the silence between them easy, their bodies having said what needed to be said, expressed the relief at having found each other again.
“Why are you here?” Cruz asked out of the blue.
“Well, there was this truck that was filled to overflowing with scary-looking dudes who were shooting at me, so I ran into the jungle, where my dashing guardian Duarte found me and brought me here,” she said.
“Dashing, huh?” he replied.
She didn’t respond, but smiled bright. “Here in Vietnam, you mean?”
He nodded.
“The million-dollar question. I guess I just wanted to get away.”
“Was it a guy?” he said, and though his voice was the same, Nola didn’t miss the narrowing of his eyes.
“Yes and no. It’s kind of embarrassing actually,” she said.
Cruz stayed quiet, but his interest was clear.
“He fell in love.” Nola shrugged.
“And left you,” he said, voice rough with offense. Nola warmed at the knowledge that this man, who was a practical stranger, was offended on her behalf.
“Yes. He and a friend of ours—his—realized they were meant to be, so there was no room for Nola at the inn.”
“How long?”
“Had we been together?”
He nodded.
“Seven years.”
Cruz’s eyes narrowed again. “That’s a long time. When did it end?”
“Umm, a little over a month ago,” Nola said.
He looked shocked for a moment, assessing Nola with eyes that went unreadable.
“You didn’t love him,” Cruz said after a moment, his voice brimming with certainty.
“Maybe I thought I did once, but no, I didn’t. The feeling was mutual.”
“He’s a fool,” Cruz said, and then he stood and moved to the window. He’d said the words with such conviction, Nola couldn’t help but believe him.
About an hour later, Nola heard the low hum of an engine. Cruz perked, and after a quick peek out the window, he unlocked the door.
Sam, Ace, and Saint filed in, and Nola realized that she was relieved to see all of them, even Saint, in good health.
“Got you guys some stuff,” Sam said, heading straight to Cruz to hand him a black duffel. Then he walked over to Nola and handed her one as well.
“Thanks, Sam,” she said.
“Ma’am.” He nodded, clearly happy to see her.
“Let’s get dressed, Nola,” Cruz said.
She followed him into the bathroom, admiring how masculine he looked even in the fluffy terry cloth robe. He dressed quickly, his movements efficient, looking much as he had on the shuttle when she’d first seen him, save his wet hair. Nola also dressed quickly, and though the clothes weren’t a perfect fit, she was relieved to have them despite her self-consciousness at not wearing a bra.
When they emerged from the bathroom, Sam had set up yet another computer that Ace and Saint were crowded around.
“So any clue what our visitors were after?” Cruz said.
Saint shrugged his huge shoulders. “Seems as though there’s been a slight misunderstanding.”
He grabbed a folder and stalked toward Nola.
“Is this the man who switched seats with you?” he asked, holding a picture in front of her face.
Nola looked at the picture, searching for any similarity or familiarity.
“Yes…?” she finally said.
“Was that a question?” Saint barked.
She spared a second to glare at him, something she couldn’t have imagined doing a week ago. Then she looked back at the picture. “It’s him. He was wearing sunglasses, but it’s him.”
“What’s the story?” Cruz said.
“Our Good Samaritan is a low-level diplomat with ties to organized crime who’s apparently looking to strike out on his own. He was carrying the drive for an HCMC syndicate and apparently his plan was to exchange it for seed money to fund his own operation. So the guys who were coming after you, Nola, worked for him. The ones who came after us work for the rightful owner of this information.”
“Sounds complicated,” Nola said, though this time she sounded as nonchalant as the guys. She supposed she was getting used to it.
“Not for us,” Cruz said. He turned to Saint. “So I assume if we get this information to its rightful owner, we can wash our hands of this?”
“I’m impressed. Looks like I finally taught you something. About damn time,” Saint said.
“Sam?” Ace said.
“Yeah, I think I found the perfect location. Tell your contact to meet you here,” Sam said, and then he called out coordinates.
“So once you make this exchange, this will be over?” Nola said, not wanting to get her hopes up, but feeling excited nonetheless.
Cruz walked over to her and pulled her into a hug. “Yes.”
— SIXTEEN —
“Sorry you got stuck babysitting me,” Nola said.
Cruz, Ace, and Saint had set out earlier, leaving Sam with strict instructions to keep his eye on Nola and the door.
“No problem,” Sam said, stabbing at his keyboard like he always seemed to be. “I’m the resident den mother, so it’s nothing new.”
Nola could have sw
orn she heard a sharp edge of bitterness in his voice, but he looked at her with the same easygoing smile he’d worn since the first time she’d seen him and most of the times after, so she dismissed it.
“How long have you been doing this?” she asked, attempting to fill the awkward silence that had fallen between them.
“Computer stuff?”
“I’m sure it’s not just computer stuff,” Nola said.
“It seems that way,” Sam said, and this time Nola didn’t miss the faint tinge of regret and bitterness in his tone.
Something in his voice compelled her to go over to him.
“I’ve been there,” she said when she stood beside him.
Sam knit his brows together and stared at her. “Been where?”
“You know, in that place where it feels like nobody appreciates you, like you don’t even matter.”
The furrow deepened, and Sam sputtered. “I don’t… I’m not…”
Nola smiled and then patted Sam’s long, thin hand.
“You don’t have to say anything, but trust me, I can tell. Here’s some unsolicited advice. A good friend of mine used to tell me I needed to show people what I’m made of. The same is true for you. Show the guys how good you are, and they won’t have any choice but to respect you.”
She patted his hand again, and for a moment, he sat still, looking at the spot where she’d touched him. Then he turned his eyes toward her, and the friendliness she’d seen there was gone, consumed by coldness.
“I’m really glad you feel that way,” Sam said.
Then he lifted a gun.
••••
Cruz pressed the small receiver in his ear.
“Is this feeling fishy to anybody?” he whispered softly.
“Yep,” was Ace’s reply.
Saint said nothing, but he didn’t need to. Like it had when he’d first glimpsed Nola, his sixth sense was screaming about how wrong this was. Sam had been insistent that this was the most likely location, but something was off. It was far too quiet, and far too deserted.
