by Lora Leigh
I agree.
Diego stared at the message for long moments before sending his own. He had to play this carefully. He couldn't seem too eager, too excited. That would be a sign of weakness.
Your brother in arms secure. Proceed to Andover party. Delgado to be advised.
Diego had placed Delgado, his most trusted man, in D.C. to watch his son's back. It would all come together soon. Sorrell had demanded the death of not just the senator, but this SEAL team as well. This team that included Diego's only surviving son. The bastard's demands were insolent, arrogant.
He had demanded it as though Diego were one of his underlings. As though he had the right to demand such things from him.
Snarling in silent fury, Diego turned to the monitor set up in the office he used. There, in the hidden cell, lay the friend his son was willing to sell his soul for.
What would it be like, he wondered then, to command such loyalty? To have such a friend that he would turn his back even on his beliefs to save him?
Diego had never known such loyalty. But that man in the cell, naked, shuddering in the throes of Diego's latest attempt to break him with the last remaining doses of the date rape drug, that man knew a loyalty of which Diego only dreamed.
"You will dress our friend." He nodded to the monitor as he spoke to Saul. "Feed him. Strengthen him enough to aid the boy if it is needed when they come for him. Delgado will kidnap the girl and bring her here. We will have Sorrell and our Mr. White in one place for our SEALs to collect."
"Will you tell him that the girl will be kidnapped?" Saul asked. "Without his cooperation, it may not be possible to take her."
Diego shook his head slowly. "This part I do not control. And there will be no way he and his friends can stop it. This man, our spy, the girl trusts too well. Our friend Mr. White, will bring her here unharmed, as he has been ordered, for this Sorrell to collect. When they arrive, our captive will not be drugged, and he will remember the torture Mr. White has inflicted upon him. There will be no escape for White once he has been rescued. Be sure to place the girl in his cell when she arrives. She may need the additional protection." Diego ran his finger thoughtfully over his lips. "The moment the girl is taken, you will send the coordinates of this place to my son. He will then take care of the rest."
"Can you trust him, Diego?" Saul's voice whispered what was his innermost fear.
Diego stared back at his friend and most trusted advisor.
"I can do nothing but take the chance," he said with a heavy sigh. "It is too late to start over, to train another son, to worry for his safety and give him the freedom he will need to grow confident. We shall see, Saul. But we shall also protect our own backs. My son tries to make it appear as though he has no weakness, but all men know weakness, I have only to find his."
"Should I contact Delgado?" Saul asked then.
Diego shook his head slowly. "I will contact him. He will know his orders have come directly from me and that he is to follow them implicitly. From here on out, Saul, this game is in earnest. There is no room for error, and there are no second chances. We can allow no mistakes from this point forward."
Saul nodded in agreement, but his gaze was worried. Just as Diego was worried, despite the facade he presented. Worried that others could have learned about his son; perhaps this was even why Sorrell was targeting this team. To flush out Diego's weakness. To have something to hold against him in the negotiations he was attempting to undertake for control of the cartel's networks. A control Diego must not allow.
A control his son would not allow.
Chapter Twenty-one
Emily was certain she shouldn't have been surprised to find Kira waiting for them, in Emily's apartment no less.
She was sprawled on the couch, a bag of Emily's favorite cookies in her lap and the television turned to one of the foreign-language channels she loved so much.
Her long black hair was pulled high into a ponytail that allowed heavy curls to tumble well past her shoulders. Her face was makeup free and she still looked like a million bucks. She wore faded, ripped jeans and a wrinkled camisole top and still managed to appear fashionable. But the gun at her side ruined the image of the lazy, discontented socialite.
"About time you two showed up." Her voice was pitched low as Kell closed and locked the door behind them. "Where's that tall, buff, and completely antisocial hunk who lives on the other side?"
Ian?
"Why is my best friend and next-door neighbor sitting on my couch, eating my cookies, and watching my TV? And why is she doing it with a gun?"
As though she wasn't damned good at guessing. The guess was getting ready to piss her off. She had just endured more time than she considered excusable with a silent, uncommunicative SEAL. The other, Ian, had been vaguely amused but not so much that he was willing to break the silence.
Emily hadn't gotten to sit in the copilot's seat this time, and she hadn't been able to flirt with the pilot or Kell. And she sure as hell hadn't been able to relieve the frustrating pain of this suddenly cold attitude she was receiving from the man who had been her lover.
Had been. Because it was going to be—oh, at least a good couple of hours before she tried to jump his bones again. She shot him a silent glare before turning back to Kira.
"Explanations, if you please," she suggested to Kira wearily, shaking her head as she trudged toward the bedroom. And you can make them without grouch-ass there glowering at both of us."
Kira rose to her feet, winked at Kell, gave him a perky little wave of her fingers then followed Emily into the bedroom.
"Well. I have to say. You have totally outlived my expectations of your ability to handle that piece of man flesh," Kira drawled as she closed the door behind her.
Emily was certain Kell heard every word.
She snorted. "Yeah. Right. I'm handling him really well. He hasn't spoken to me in hours and he's so damned cold he's about to give me frostbite."
"Cold?" Kira paused in front of the door, her hand waving in front of her face in a brief gesture of heat. "Baby. Those eyes are burning and those jeans are bulging. Trust me, that man is ready to rock and roll in the hardest of ways."
Emily sniffed with offended pride. "Then he can rock and roll by himself." For a few hours anyway.
Turning her back on Kira she threw her small bag to the bed, then sat down on the mattress and breathed out heavily.
"Now why the hell are you in my house?"
"Eating your cookies, watching your television, and ogling your man?" Kira suggested helpfully.
"With a gun?"
"Oh yeah. There is that gun." Slender shoulders shrugged. "I flew home last night on a Homeland Security flight and camped out on your couch, just to see if anyone got curious or whatever while you were gone."
Emily fell back on the bed, stared up at the ceiling, and tried not to feel betrayed. She didn't succeed. She did feel betrayed. She had known Kira for two years now and had never suspected that she was an agent for Homeland, or that Emily was an assignment rather than a friendship.
"You're an agent for HS." It wasn't a question. "How did Dad manage to pull that one off? To get you here on such an extended mission?"
"Because he's on the National Security Committee as well as the Drug Enforcement Committee and several oversight committees. Besides, I live in Atlanta anyway and I've been on leave recuperating from a wound for the last eighteen months, so it all worked out."
Staring at the ceiling wasn't a bad thing. Emily traced the small butterfly effect of the design above her with her eyes and reminded herself that she wasn't young enough to be able to excuse a temper tantrum.
But she wanted to throw one. She wanted to scream and rage and demand that every damned one of her father's minions get the hell out of her life. She'd had enough of them. Was sick to her back teeth of them.
She had that pesky friendship thing to deal with where Kira was concerned though. And that damned sex thing with Kell. She couldn't exactly tell them
to piss off, now could she?
"You've lived here for two years," she pointed out to Kira.
"Yep. I have." Kira's weight settled on the other side of the bed before she laid back as well, her head settling against the mattress several inches from Emily's. "Your dad suggested the condo when he found out I was looking to move from my dark little apartment in town. The rest was added extras."
"I knew there was a reason I shouldn’t like you.” Emily wanted to pout, but she hadn't really pouted in years, and the effort to remember how just seemed too draining right now.
"Yeah, you gave it a good fight." Kira chuckled. "But I'm persistent. Besides, we are friends, Emily. I'm a good friend to have too. I know how to use a gun."
"So do I."
Silence met her statement.
"Cool." It was obvious by Kira's tone that she didn't believe her.
"Mac Tackett's indoor shooting range and proficiency challenge," Emily stated.
She felt Kira's head turn, felt her eyes watching her.
"Senator didn't tell me about that," Kira mused.
"The senator doesn't know. His lackeys did. But it's amazing how Mac can convince those big guys that they would heartily dislike losing a member."
"Uh-huh. I know Mac." Kira turned her head back. "Well, I was watching your back then."
"You were following orders."
Kira was quiet for long moments. "I was your friend as well, Emily."
Friendship. Relationships. There was a twist to all of hers that she was finding unacceptable. Everyone loved her as long as she was agreeable. Everyone but herself. And now that she wasn't agreeable anymore? What now?
"Don't ever come into my home like this again," Emily told her, feeling the resolve that began to harden inside her. "Not without my permission or my knowledge."
Kira sighed heavily. "Unless ordered to?"
"If ordered, you better inform Dad you're going to need hazard pay. Because next time, I'll make you wish you had waited on the front steps."
She should get up. She should shower. She should see about fixing lunch, because she was hungry. But she lay there instead, stared at the ceiling and tried not to think about guns, bullets, and knives coming out of the dark.
"I bet I could take you," Kira decided suddenly. The feel of her head turning had Emily restraining her smile.
"It would be interesting to find out." Emily nodded. "I might look like a marshmallow, but I've been taking some self-defense lessons."
"Research huh?" Kira was laughing.
"Gator Jack's Roundhouse." She loved Gator Jack, mud wrestling, and gutter fighting. She'd learned quite a bit over the last few years while sneaking in there between bodyguards.
Okay, she might not be able to take a Homeland agent in a face-to-face fight, but there was a chance she could break a hold, and she knew how to run really fast.
"You're scary," Kira murmured. "Your father has no idea how scary you are."
"Neither does Kell." Emily smiled in satisfaction. "He got turned on by the holstered gun and knife garters though."
Satisfaction edged through her at the memory of that one.
"Speaking of your hard body," Kira drawled. "Why's he mad?"
"He forgot to use a condom last night." Emily frowned up at the ceiling. That had to be the problem.
"Did you remind him?"
"He reminded me. And I didn't care." She frowned at that. "Maybe I was supposed to care?"
She turned her head and stared into Kira's surprised expression.
"Kreiger did it without protection?" she fairly whispered. "That's damned surprising. I've read his file and I did some light investigating when I heard Durango Team would be on this op. He's a fanatic about protection. Paranoid about it."
"Uh-huh," Emily murmured, with a sharp sigh of agreement as she turned back to her perusal of the ceiling.
"Wow." Kira shifted on the bed, still watching her. "So, we're still friends, huh?"
"No." Emily shook her head. "I hate skinny bitches. I keep telling you that."
A snort of laughter left the other woman. "And I hate curvy little pocket Venuses, but I put up with your rounded ass."
"Bite me."
"Not even on a dare. You might enjoy it."
They were giggling like teenagers when the bedroom door opened and Kell stood framed in the doorway, staring at them both with a heavy frown.
"If you two can tear yourselves off the bed, Ian's here. We need to go over plans for the next three days and get ready for the Andover party."
"See?" Emily muttered. "Frostbite."
Kira sighed in commiseration. "I had hopes for ya, girlfriend."
"So did I. So did I."
* * *
He was furious with himself. Furious with Emily, and fighting back the need to do a little private hunting. The type of hunting that found a SEAL with a sniper rifle and Diego Fuentes's forehead in his sights. Fuentes and his unknown fucking spy. God help the bastard if Macey ever figured out who he was, because Kell swore he was going to gut him himself.
He enforced his self-control, restrained the need to shift, to stretch the muscles that seemed to itch for action beneath his flesh, and to use the erection torturing him.
Use it on one stubborn, independent, willful little redheaded fox who was close to driving him insane.
God, he felt sorry for the bodyguards who came before him. Those men must have spent untold hours packing heat and fighting to keep up with Emily all at once. It just wasn't possible.
She was like the wind. Wild. Free. Her presence caressed his flesh even when she wasn't touching him and that was damned dangerous. Especially now.
His glance slid along her body, touched on her rounded little belly, and his heart did that melting thing in his chest again. Where it got hot. Where it raced. Where it clenched with emotions he suddenly found himself unable to deal with. Emotions that had torn through his soul the minute he had pumped his seed inside her.
She was unprotected. The chances of getting her pregnant would only grow if he continued with that madness. He couldn't allow it to happen again. He couldn't take the chance. God help him if the pregnancy test he intended to get for her before that damned party came back positive. Because he didn't know if he could go through with it. If he could let her risk her life and their child's life, no matter the situation.
Now, he watched her as she moved back into the living room with Kira. The sight of her lying back on that bed, giggling with the other woman, had filled his guts with irrational jealousy.
He wanted to be lying there with her. He wanted to hear her laughter, feel the warmth that was so much a part of her, that heated the icy reaches of his spirit that had so long been alone.
And yet, it was his own fault he hadn't been there beside her. The need to defend against what could happen was ripping his insides apart. He had to push it back. He had to control it or he would forever destroy whatever fragile feelings she was developing for him now.
He needed her love. He was certain he had been winning it until this morning. Until he forced back the emotions pushing at his soul in order to do the job he knew he had to do.
He had to let his woman aid in her own defense. The very thing he had been so certain he needed in a woman. Her ability to face adversity. To help him protect her. To be strong enough to stay alive if he wasn't with her. Because there would be times he wasn't with her. Times when he would be doing his job. She would have to do hers. Protect herself and their children.
God, what the hell had he been thinking?
His fists clenched at his side at the insanity of having a woman as frighteningly independent as this one. She was never going to stand behind him. She would always stand beside him as he fought to keep her from stepping in front of him.
"Ian," Kira drawled when neither he nor Ian spoke.
The other man lounged against the bar separating the living room from the kitchen. His elbows were braced on the bar behind him, his tall, leanly muscled b
ody appearing relaxed. But like Kell, he had been anything but relaxed once Kira stepped into the room.
"Kira." Ian nodded, his expression faintly mocking. "I like the black hair. It suits you better than the other colors I've seen you wearing."
She grimaced and rolled her eyes as Emily watched with interest.
