Elle looked at the grey beanie in disgust. “What if she has lice?”
“What if you get dead because you’re the only person in Cusco with luminous blue hair?”
Elle pulled on the hat.
The pub was facing Cusco’s huge cathedral. The red-brick building lit up orange in the night, and there was a massive crowd gathered outside it.
“Festival,” Joe said, answering Julia’s unasked question. “Although most nights in Cusco are party nights.”
Julia knew if they turned right, they were a short walk to their last hotel. Joe turned left and took them away from the crowded Plaza de Armas. The cobblestone street was full of tourists and locals. There were traditionally dressed women, their arms full of woven souvenirs, walking amongst the crowds, attempting to sell their wares. At the edge of the road, covered trailers acted as portable stores, selling everything from snacks and drinks to hand-crafted ceramics. Behind the trailers was the grey stone brickwork of the Incas. The irregular stones fit together like massive puzzle pieces. Somehow it fit perfectly to see the Incan stonework merge with the plaster and carved wood of the Spanish architecture that had been built on top of it.
“One day,” Joe said in her ear, “I’m going to bring you back here so you can look all you like.”
Julia blinked up at him, aware that the crowds moved around Joe and no one jostled them. “You mean when we aren’t running for our lives?”
“Yeah.” His smile was devastating. “Hard to be a tourist when you’re running for your life.”
“Hardly a relaxing vacation.”
“Hardly.”
They turned the corner into a narrower street. “The hotel’s at the end of the block,” Joe said.
“Isn’t that a bit close to the last hotel?” Patricia asked.
Ryan had her and Elle wedged between him and the wall, acting as a barrier to everything in their path, as they made their way along the street.
“It’s as safe as anywhere in Cusco right now,” Joe said.
“That isn’t reassuring,” Patricia muttered.
“There it is,” Ryan said. “The Marriott.”
The high stone arches of the hotel came into view, and Julia read the plaque that said the building used to be a convent. “Do you think every hotel in Cusco used to belong to a holy order? Is anyone else bothered by that?”
“Nope.” Ryan held open the door for them.
“The history of societal change from a religious paradigm to a secular one is fascinating,” Patricia said. “You can see it in everything, not only the repurposed buildings, but art, literature, styles of government, everything. The questions are, is the building still sacred when it isn’t being used for holy purpose? Is the art still divine when it isn’t used for worship?”
Julia nodded along with her gran. At least someone was on the same wavelength. She glanced up to see Joe grinning and Ryan gaping at Patricia.
“You really were a professor, weren’t you? I thought that was a nickname or something.”
They groaned and passed him on their way to the reception desk. Joe got two keys and handed one to Ryan.
“Ryan, Elle and Patricia are in something called a mini-suite. We’ll meet you there in an hour. Get cleaned up and have some food. Callum already has a room.”
Julia tugged his hand. “What about me?”
“You’re with me.”
There wasn’t time to process his decree before he was dragging her across the lobby towards the elevator. Julia glanced over her shoulder to see her gran and teammates smiling after her.
The lift door opened and Joe stalked in, taking her with him.
“You could have asked me to come with you.” That was all Julia managed to say before she was pressed up against the wall and Joe was in front of her.
A second later, his mouth was on hers. His kiss was ferocious. It was a claiming. A taking. A branding. It left her weak and desperate for more.
The elevator stopped all too soon, and an older couple smiled at them knowingly as they exited. Joe dragged her down the corridor to their room. He had the door open in seconds. As soon as she was inside, he had her pressed against it.
He kissed her with a desperation that was almost brutal. But somewhere, in the deep recesses of her mind, Julia knew he needed this, and she gave him everything he wanted. Her terrible tourist t-shirt came flying off, followed quickly by her white cotton sports bra.
“Beautiful,” he growled as he fell to his knees and feasted on her breasts.
Julia could do nothing but gasp and hold on tight. He sucked and licked and scraped his teeth over her breasts, until she was ready to explode. The room was spinning. There were no thoughts in her head but Joe.
She was vaguely aware of the button on her shorts popping open. The zip lowering. He sucked her nipple hard, making her wail as he removed the rest of her clothes, tugging off shoes and lifting her feet to get rid of her shorts. Once he had her naked before him, he didn’t hesitate—he lifted her knee and hooked it over his shoulder, and then his mouth was on her.
It was a ravishing. He didn’t tease. He kissed her most private place with abandon. He was relentless, driving her as high as he could, as fast as he could. Julia lost the ability to stand and felt Joe’s hands on her hips holding her up. Her head was swimming. Her only sounds were moans of surrender. She felt herself race towards climax. Too fast. Too hard. Too much. She couldn’t get the words out to tell him to slow. And then it was too late. He pushed her over the edge. Her body spasmed with the agony of pleasure that overwhelmed her, and she collapsed—straight into Joe’s arms.
Julia was gasping for air, fighting for reason, when she felt the cool cotton of the sheets against her back. A second later, Joe thrust inside her. Her back came off the bed with a desperate wail of pleasure.
“Need. You.” Joe pressed his face into her throat and bit the muscle in the crook of her neck.
The sting of the bite, accompanied by the devastating pleasure of him driving into her, sent her spiralling into another orgasm. Time suspended. It was as though she was outside her own body, yet completely aware of it at the same time. She was split. Soul and body. And then she came crashing back together, with one word on her lips.
“Joe.”
Chapter 24
Callum was living his worst nightmare. In the years since he’d lost his legs, he hadn’t let anyone, except medical staff, see him without his prosthetics. And now here he was, the butt of Ryan’s jokes and a liability to his team. With one leg abandoned in a stone formation and the other sporting a bullet hole, he was officially out of the game. There was no way he’d be able to get replacements fitted in time to help—especially not while he was in a foreign country. He was reduced to letting the concierge in their new hotel find him a wheelchair.
A wheelchair. His team were going to see him in a wheelchair. How the hell could he expect them to let him lead when they saw how weak he really was?
They were staying in the Marriott, which was a couple of blocks away from the Plaza de Armas, where the women had been holed up all afternoon. Their new hotel was only two blocks away from their old hotel. They’d talked about that when they’d been in their stolen car, heading back to the city. They came to the conclusion that there were a lot of hotels around the Plaza de Armas, and a lot of tourists to hide amongst. Plus, the Marriott was the only hotel Callum was sure would cater to someone in a wheelchair. He was risking the team because of his failings.
He looked over at his bathroom with its extra-wide door. The shower was roll-in. There was plenty of space around the bed, and everything was at a height he could reach from a wheelchair.
He hated every single inch of it.
Picking up his phone, he put a call through to Lake.
“Benson,” the taciturn man said.
“We’re in a fucked-up mess.”
“Details,” Lake demanded.
Callum let out a sigh as he reached for the glass of whisky on the night tabl
e. He took a hefty gulp, rejoicing in the burn as it made its way to his stomach.
“Ed Sanchez, Joe’s contact, the lawyer. The guy sold us out. Esteban bought him. He led us out of town to give Esteban’s guys a chance to snatch Patricia and the mummy. They didn’t get her, but only because Julia is a genius savant who stores information like a NASA computer. She knew a secret way out of the hotel and got the women to safety.”
“I told you Julia was worth her weight in gold.”
“Aye, you also told me she’d get over her need to hide behind office plants.” He finished his whisky while he tried to remember the last time Julia had hidden from him. Hell, it had to have been back in England. Maybe she was adapting. “Anyway, Ed led us to what he said was a prime location for our fake treasure trove. Instead, he had the cartel men waiting for us. It was an ambush. A bloodbath. There are eleven bodies in a field outside of Cusco.” He paused, hating what he had to confess. “Along with one of my prosthetic legs. The other one is sitting on my bed with a bullet hole in it.”
“Injuries to the team?” It was the same voice Lake had used as operation commander during their time in the SAS.
“Unbelievably? None. The odd scrape and cut, but nothing major. Our worst setback is the fact I’m now confined to a chair.” It turned his stomach to say the words. They were like bile in his mouth. Weak. He was so bloody weak. Half the man he’d once been. Literally.
“Even in your chair, you’re worth more than most men in your situation.”
The only reason Callum didn’t take off Lake’s head for placating him was because he knew his friend wouldn’t dare try. If anyone was going to give it to him straight, it was Lake. He’d just have to quietly accept that on this one point, Lake Benson was completely delusional.
There was a knock at the door. “Concierge.”
“Give me a minute,” he told Lake before shouting, “Come on in.”
The door opened and the man wheeled in a chair. It was to his credit that he hadn’t asked what happened to Callum’s prosthetic legs; instead he’d taken the request for a wheelchair in his stride—especially seeing as Callum didn’t want to borrow or hire one. He wanted to buy one.
“Señor.” The man positioned the chair in front of him, and Callum was relieved to see it was gunmetal grey and not some weird colour, like pink. “Can I help you with anything else?” He eyed the bullet-damaged leg, but his face didn’t even flicker with shock or curiosity.
Callum handed him the leg. “Can you get rid of this?”
“Of course.”
“I need clothes,” Callum said. “In fact, my whole team will need everything. Clothes, toiletries, shoes—the works.”
“If you could supply me with measurements and preferences, I’d be happy to supply your team with a basic closet.”
Callum pulled out his wallet and took out five hundred dollars. “That’s for you.”
The man’s eyebrows arched slightly. He took the money with a gracious nod.
“There will be fifteen hundred more when we leave. As long as there are no questions asked, and if anyone comes looking for us, they don’t find us.”
The man’s eyes hardened. “The privacy of our guests is paramount in this hotel.”
“Then we have an agreement.”
“A pleasure. Please call with your team’s details.”
“I will.”
The guy nodded and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
“I wish I could hire ten guys like the concierge here,” he told Lake. “He does as he’s told, he’s discreet and he doesn’t talk back.”
Lake snorted, which could have been his version of a laugh. “What’s the plan?”
“I’m calling in your contacts—apart from that, I’ll need to get back to you with the details. Can you ask them to stay on standby?”
“Already done.”
“When I get back to the office, there will be no personal time for anybody ever again. Don’t fight me on this. I’m serious. I’m fed up with rushing into the chaos of our staff’s lives without proper planning and preparation. This would never have happened in the service.”
“And you wouldn’t have made the money you’re making now there, either.”
Lake’s words cut through Callum. He remembered Joe’s emotionless recounting of Ed’s last minutes. Money sure as hell wasn’t all it was cut out to be.
“I need to go,” Callum said.
“Stay in touch.” The line went dead.
Callum tossed the phone onto the bed beside him, pulled the chair over and heaved his body into it. He needed a shower.
And then he needed to face his team.
In a wheelchair and powerless to help them.
He wondered what he’d see on their faces when they realised that their boss had turned from an asset into a hindrance. He bet it was nothing he’d want to see. Sometimes, on dark days, he wished the roadside bomb that had ruined his life had taken more than his legs. He wished it had taken all of him.
With a push of the wheels, he headed for the bathroom.
Chapter 25
They were lying naked in bed, in the room Joe hadn’t even glanced at before he’d taken Julia. It hadn’t been lovemaking. It had been something far more primal. Something he didn’t quite understand, but had desperately needed.
Julia was lying on her stomach, her face on his chest, her arm across his abdomen. Joe trailed his fingertips down the smooth, creamy skin of her spine, to the luscious curve of her behind.
“Did I hurt you, Jules?” If she said yes, he honestly didn’t know how he’d live with himself.
“Don’t be daft,” was the murmur against his chest.
Joe smiled into the darkness. He hadn’t even turned on a light. He’d just fallen on her like an animal.
“I’m not usually like that…” He didn’t know how to explain it.
Julia lifted her head and rested her chin on him. She looked him in the eye. “Don’t. I like that it’s different every time. I loved what we did. You can do it again.” She paused. “Once I’ve had time to build up some energy.”
She plopped her cheek back down on his chest, as though even that small action had cost too much of her depleted resource of strength.
Joe couldn’t help but smile as she eased his worry. She was too damn cute. They lay there for a few moments, enjoying the silence and the darkness. Enjoying the comfort of being skin to skin.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Julia asked softly. “You don’t have to.”
Joe closed his eyes, a futile attempt to keep out the images that were already inside his head. She waited patiently, no judgment in the silence, and he knew if he chose not to speak about it, she would understand. But that wasn’t how it worked. The rest of the team would have to be told. The consequences would have to be dealt with.
“Ed sold us out.” Joe’s voice was strangely hoarse. As though he’d been crying, when his eyes were dry.
“I know.” Julia squeezed him tight.
He thought of the text warning him about Ed. And then the call that followed. Her timing had almost been lethal—something she would never know. He’d already warned Callum and Joe not to mention the phone call that gave their position away. It wasn’t her fault. It was his. He should have remembered to turn off his phone. It was a rookie mistake and they’d all paid for it. But not Julia. It wasn’t on her.
“Esteban’s men were waiting for us. It was an ambush.”
She caressed his stomach. “Don’t blame yourself. It wasn’t you who decided to betray your friends. That was Ed’s choice.”
“Yeah, but I should have known something was off.”
“Why? He was your friend. You trusted him. Why would you spend time suspecting him of subterfuge?”
Joe smiled and squeezed her tight. “Only you could use the word subterfuge in bed.”
“This isn’t exactly pillow talk, Joe.”
“No.” He sobered. “It isn’t.”
&nb
sp; Julia’s eyes softened. “It wasn’t your fault,” said his stubborn and beautiful woman.
“Maybe not, but it’s definitely my fault he’s dead.” Images flashed in his mind. The gunshot. The blood blossoming on Ed’s shirt. The life draining from his face. The glassy nothingness in his eyes when he breathed his last.
Julia shifted until she was leaning on his chest. She cupped his cheek and kissed him until the images retreated. Damn, but he loved this woman.
“It was either him or you. You did what you had to—what he forced you to do.” It was said with such conviction that it was almost impossible to refute.
“How do you know?”
“Because I know you. You wouldn’t have hunted him down as a traitor. You would only have hurt him if he was about to hurt you—or Callum and Ryan. It isn’t your fault.”
She kissed him again, sipping at his lips as though trying to take away his pain with her touch. Joe put his hands under her arms and pulled her until she was lying on top of him.
“I’m so sorry about Ed,” Julia whispered. “I know you weren’t close friends, but you trusted him. I don’t know what made him act the way he did. He was a nice man around us—although his betrayal means I’ll look at everything he did and said differently now. But I liked him and he was still your friend. A friend who forced you into a position where you had to do a horrible thing. I’m sorry he’s gone, but it still isn’t your fault. It’s the choices he made. He must have known when he decided to sell us out that there would be consequences. He took the risk anyway. What a horrible waste of a life.” Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at him, and Joe knew they were tears for Ed and for him. “It hurts, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, baby, it hurts.” He clasped the back of her head and gently pulled her in for a kiss. This woman who saw too much and felt too deeply. This woman meant for him. Slow kissing turned to slow touching, and this time, they did make love.
Relentless (Benson's Boys Book 2) Page 20
