With a low grunt, Wolf wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. His kiss got harder, hotter. So did Nina. Consumed by the searing heat, she fanned the flames even more by hooking an ankle around his calf and grinding her hips into his. She could feel him harden, thicken, until his entire length pushed at her through the zipper of his jeans.
“How…?” She jerked her head back, gasping. “How long before we have to leave for the airport?”
He stared down at her, his blue eyes smoky. He wanted more, too, she saw on a wave of reckless exhilaration.
“How long, Wolf?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. He didn’t answer for five seconds, ten. Nina was ready to drag him bodily to the bed when he growled down at her. “Long enough.”
The first time was frenzied. Frantic. Right there, against the wall.
She tore at the buttons of his shirt and ripped it down his arms, needing to touch him, taste him. He shed the shirt without breaking contact. His mouth was locked on hers and his hands rough as he hiked up her T-shirt. She had to pull away to get it over her head.
That gave Wolf the perfect opening. Contorting, he dropped nipping kisses across the slopes of her breasts. By the time she shimmied out of her bra, he’d tugged down her slacks and had a hand between her thighs.
She was ready for him—hot and wet and so ready she almost came right then. But when he yanked down her briefs, safe, cautious Nina surfaced with a small shriek.
“Wolf! Please tell me you’ve got a condom in your wallet!”
“Sorry, sweetheart.”
She groaned, and he grinned.
“But I do have several in my gear bag. Don’t move. Do not move!”
“Like I could?”
She splayed both hands against the plaster and almost quivered with need. Wolf wasn’t in much better shape. He’d never wanted any woman as badly as he did this one. Hunger for her burned in his belly, so fierce and primitive it took him three tries to tear open the damn condom.
The delay was brief, only a few seconds. Just long enough for a thin thread of sanity to snake through the red haze in his head. He’d called a halt last night to keep from losing his focus. The situation hadn’t changed. If anything, it had grown more serious. What was he doing, slamming Nina up against the wall and going at her like some drunken sailor?
He turned with the condom in his hand. His second thoughts must have shown in his face, because Nina drew in a swift breath, reached out and hooked a hand in his waistband.
“Oh no,” she breathed, hauling him against her. “Not this time, Blackstone.”
Their second round lasted longer. Probably because their first orgasm was so explosive Wolf had to brace one hand against the wall and hold Nina up with the other while his chest heaved and the blood slowly returned to his extremities. Or maybe because he wanted to explore the curves and hollows he’d missed the first time around.
Whatever the reason, he took sensual delight in leading her to the king-size bed. She arched like a cat on the clean sheets, one arm over her head, a smile curving her lips. “Again?”
“Again,” he replied, with a grin. “As soon as I get my wind back. In the meantime…”
He stretched out beside her and propped his head on a hand. The other he skimmed over her belly and breasts. The damp, silky texture of her skin combined with the yeasty scent of their lovemaking to get him hard again. Much quicker than Wolf would have believed possible.
Despite the sudden rush of blood and the clock ticking away at the back of his mind he forced a deliberation he was far from feeling. He made every kiss a new discovery, each touch a sensual invitation.
Nina responded slowly at first. Limp and languid, she let him explore at will. Gradually, her breathing quickened and the body he’d teased back to life took on a coiled tension that matched his own.
Wolf hated to end it but the damn clock kept ticking. Burying his hands in her hair, he slid in, pulled back, thrust home. Her eyes flew open. Wolf looked down at them and knew he’d met the one woman who could change his world. Had changed his world. For the first time in all his years with OMEGA, his mission took second priority.
He should have told her then. Should have said the words that wanted to come so badly he had to bite them back. Wolf thought he was doing the right thing by covering her mouth with his and thrusting in again. Thought he had all bases covered when Ace called to confirm that Diamond would touch down at the airport in a little less than thirty minutes. Thought all he had to do was hustle Nina aboard the private jet and finish his job down here in Cabo.
He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.
Chapter 11
The attack came on the way to the airport. Wolf spotted the car following them just moments after they’d pulled out of the Mayah Princess’ long, curving drive.
“We’ve got company,” he said with a glance in the rearview mirror. “Again!”
With a weird sense of déjà vu, Nina twisted to peer out the back window. She’d dressed comfortably for travel in drawstring slacks and her red silk tank. They moved easily with her as she searched the early evening haze and tried to pick out their tail.
“Who do you think…?”
“Hell!”
Wolf’s curse brought her slewing back around in time to see a Hummer shoot out of a side street and screech to a halt just yards ahead. “Omigod!”
Yelping, Nina braced both arms on the dash. Wolf cursed again, stood on the brakes and fought the wheel. Their car made almost one-eighty before coming to a squealing, shuddering stop on the dirt shoulder.
The Hummer’s passenger had leaped out before the rental’s tires stopped spinning. Nina’s stomach did a somersault when she recognized the same muscled-up thug who’d searched her bag the afternoon her car broke down. But before she could so much as shout a warning to Wolf, the man smashed her window with his gun butt and screwed the barrel into her temple.
“Señor Cordell wants to see you,” he sneered. “You, too, gringo. Get out of the car slowly. Very slowly. Do not force me to blow your woman’s brains all over you.”
Nina couldn’t flick Wolf even a single glance. The barrel jammed so brutally against her temple prevented her from turning her head. She heard a door snick open though, and saw his jean-clad leg swing out.
“Now you,” Cordell’s thug instructed.
The vicious pressure eased for a fraction of a second. Just long enough for him to yank open the car door, ram the barrel against Nina’s neck, and haul her out onto the dirt shoulder. Silvers of broken glass fell from her lap like teardrops. Her sandals crunched on the shards as the muscle-bound creep propelled her toward the Hummer.
“Get in. And you, gringo.”
Wolf didn’t move. Nina could see him only out of the corner of one eye. That glimpse was enough to stop her heart. His face could have been carved from stone, but his eyes were lethal.
He was going to do something stupid! Make some ridiculously heroic self-sacrifice to save her!
“Just go along with them,” she pleaded desperately. “Please!”
“You’d better listen to your woman, gringo.”
A screech of tires underscored his warning. The car tailing them, Nina realized, as two more men jumped out and approached Wolf with guns in hand.
Other traffic whizzed by. She saw a shocked face or two pressed against a window, but no one stopped. She had time for only a short, fervent prayer that someone would call the police before Cordell’s thug shoved her into the rear door of the Hummer.
Sprawled half-across the seat, she tried to push up. Then the driver reached back, clamped a hand on her neck and mashed her face into the leather. “Hey!”
Half smothered, she barely felt the tiny prick in her bare arm. When she realized she’d been stuck, she bucked frantically. Every horror story she’d ever heard or read about contaminated needles and infectious diseases rose up to choke her. Fear consumed her as an icy heat raced from her arm to her neck to her
chest.
“What…?” Her tongue felt thick. Her lungs had to fight to pull in air. “What did…you…give me?”
“Something to keep you quiet.”
As if from a distance, she heard Wolf’s vicious snarl.
“You filthy bastards!”
Something hit with a sickening crunch. Bone on bone? Steel on bone? Nina couldn’t drag the answer from the gray mist swirling across her mind. She had one last, coherent thought before the mist closed in.
This can’t be happening!
She came awake to the sour taste of bile.
Nausea churned in her stomach. The bed she was lying on rolled. The darkened room spun. A low, constant thump repeated over and over inside her head. Groaning, Nina squeezed her eyes shut again.
She woke a second time moments later. Or was it hours? She had no clue. Breathing through her nose, she tried desperately to control her queasy stomach while her eyes became accustomed to the gloom. She was in a bedroom, she saw. A large and very elegant bedroom, boasting teak built-ins, subdued lighting, and small, square windows curtained in straw-colored silk.
Frowning, Nina focused on the curtains. Were they swaying, or was she? They were both moving, she realized, when the bed dipped gently beneath her. She pushed up on one hand, shoved back her tangled hair with the other and took a closer look at her surroundings.
Okay. All right. She had the picture now. The bedroom was actually a luxuriously outfitted cabin. Aboard Sebastian Cordell’s monster yacht, if those sculptures in recessed niches were any indication. The swaying—and the sound she now recognized as the gentle thump of waves against the hull—meant the boat was out to sea.
The realization produced a spurt of profound relief. Maybe, just maybe, the churning in her stomach wasn’t a residual effect of whatever Sebastian’s goons had given her. The biologist in her cringed at the thought that some unknown toxin might be lingering in her system. With any luck, she was just feeling incipient motion sickness.
She sat still for a moment, her legs dangling over the side of the bed, and tested her theory. Another slow roll confirmed it. Thank God! She could handle seasickness. She had to handle it.
Pushing off the silk coverlet, she thrust her feet into the sandals someone had aligned neatly beside the bed. She didn’t see her tote or anything she could use as a weapon. Except…
Her jaw set, Nina marched over to one of the recessed niches and wrapped her fist around the neck of a slender marble nymph. The sculpture was either glued or plastered to its pedestal but came off after several hard tugs. She took a few experimental swings, deriving fierce satisfaction from the heavy weight of the nymph’s base.
All right, Cordell, she thought, as she headed for the door. Prepare to meet one pissed woman.
She fully expected to find the door locked, and almost fell through when it swung open on well-oiled hinges. Stumbling, she came face to face with an equally startled steward in a starched white jacket. He jumped back and barely avoided tipping his tray of crystal wine glasses.
“Hey!” Nina gasped. “I know you!”
“Sí, Dr. Grant. I am Enrique, Señor Cordell’s chief steward. I served you drinks at his hacienda when you…Madre de Dios!”
His eyes widened with horror, and Nina swung around. She had the nymph hefted, ready to come crashing down on an attacker, when Enrique gasped out an urgent plea.
“That statue, Dr. Grant! It is one of Señor Cordell’s most cherished. You must—”
“The man I was with,” she interrupted fiercely, spinning back around. “My fiancé. Where is he?”
“With Señor Cordell in the main salon. I will take you there. But first,” he entreated, “you will return the statute to its place, yes?”
“No way. Let’s go.”
He gave her another pleading look. Nina ignored it and kept the marble nymph at the ready as he edged past her. It stayed ready while she followed him down a wood-paneled corridor.
She couldn’t quite believe he’d agreed to take her to Sebastian so readily. Was it a ruse? Would one of Cordell’s goons jump out of a side passageway when she passed and poke another needle in her arm? The very real possibility kept Nina so tense she forgot all about her propensity to upchuck every time she left dry land.
“Up here, Doctor.”
Wine glasses tinkling, Enrique stood aside so she could precede him up a shallow flight of stairs. Nina gripped the statue in a white-knuckled fist and mounted the steps. She paused three stairs from the top to survey a room that seemed to stretch the entire length of the yacht.
The first thing she noticed were the floor-to-ceiling windows running half the length of the salon. On one side, the bank of windows showcased only pitch blackness. On the other, lights twinkled in the far distance. They were miles and miles off the coast, she realized with a gulp of dismay.
She took another hesitant step and saw that the vast salon included three different seating areas, each with its own entertainment center and flat screen TVs. Stock quotes scrolled across one, headline news across another. The third screen was blank. Probably because the two men seated across from each other on opposite sides of the TV had other matters on their mind than news or stock quotes.
So, apparently, did the man perched on a barstool in front of a gleaming teak bar. It was fitted with recessed lighting and railed shelves, with Cordell’s two-thousand-dollar bottle of tequila holding the place of honor on the middle shelf. Nina barely registered the shell-shaped bottle. Her focus was all on the gun the individual at the bar held level and aimed at Wolf.
The gunman spotted her first and called out a soft warning. “Señor Cordell!”
Sebastian turned and when he saw Nina, he rose from his white leather captain’s chair with every evidence of delight. Looking the essence of the nautical male in tan slacks, a navy blazer and white silk ascot, he held out a hand.
“So you’re awake at last, my dear. We’ve been waiting for you. Please, come and join us.”
She refused to take another step until Wolf added a gruff endorsement.
“It’s okay. Come on up.”
She guessed it was as far from okay as it could get, but mounted the last step anyway. Enrique followed and made for the bar with his tray of glasses. Sebastian, unbelievably, played the gracious host.
“I’m so pleased to see you up and about, my dear. You must be thirsty. Shall I pour you a drink?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
When she simply stared at him stonily, he spread his hands in a graceful gesture.
“I really must apologize for the distress my men caused you. It was necessary, as I’m sure you’ll agree when I…”
He broke off, his gaze dropping to the object gripped in her hand. His face took on the same horrified expression his steward’s had a few moments ago.
“My dear! That’s a priceless work of art you’re wielding like a club.”
“Is that so?”
“It’s a Greek water naiad,” he said with a touch of desperation, “sculpted by an unknown artist in the second century B.C.”
“Yeah, well, this little naiad is going to hit the bulkhead in about two seconds if a certain twenty-first-century piece of slime doesn’t order his friend at the bar to hand Wolf that gun.”
She hoisted the statue, fully prepared to carry out what she knew in her heart was an empty threat.
“Nina! I implore you. That piece is irreplaceable.”
And she and Wolf weren’t? The implication made her ache to bring Cordell’s nymph crashing down on his head.
“Destroying the statue will cause me considerable grief,” he admitted, keeping a wary eye on his precious marble, “but I promise it will gain you nothing.”
He’d called her bluff, damn it! She ought to smash the thing just for spite. She might yet, she thought, as she lowered her arm.
Cordell gave an audible sigh of relief. So did Enrique. Wine glasses rattling, the steward set the tray on the end of the bar.
“Thank you, Enrique.” Recovering his poise, the master dismissed his servant. “We’ll serve ourselves.”
The white-jacketed steward avoided Nina’s gaze as he passed her en route to the stairs.
“Thanks a lot,” she muttered to his retreating back.
Skirting a cream-colored sofa, she moved to Wolf’s side and got her first look at the ugly bruise on his right temple. So that bone-crunching thud she thought she’d heard hadn’t been some drug-induced hallucination! Cordell’s thugs had put Wolf to sleep the hard way.
Furious, she tightened her fist on the statue and swung on Sebastian again. “You think you can get away with drugging and beating and kidnapping people?”
“I regret having to resort to such extremes, my dear. I prefer to avoid violence when possible but as you can see, my men had to take rather direct action with your friend here. I assure you, however, the agent they administered to you will leave no lasting effects.”
“What was it, Sebastian? What did they inject me with?”
“Of course you would want to know. It’s your profession, isn’t it?”
The condescending comment made Nina seriously consider knocking his capped teeth down his throat.
“I have the mixture prepared at a lab in Dallas. It’s extracted from castor beans and…”
“Ricin!” The sudden lurch her stomach made had nothing to do with the boat’s motion. “You had your people pump ricin into my veins!”
“In a very small, very controlled amount, I assure you.”
“I certainly hope so!”
The military had developed ricin for use in biological warfare. The toxic agent could be dispensed as a cloud, enveloping whole cities, and caused permanent paralysis if inhaled in significant quantities. Swallowed or injected, it could precipitate a slow, agonizing death.
The fact that she’d survived the injection substantiated Cordell’s claim that she’d received a carefully calibrated dosage. Enough to incapacitate but not completely shut down all bodily functions. Still, the mere idea that she’d had the deadly toxin swimming through her veins made her throat go tight.
Risky Engagement Page 11
