Rendezvous in Rio

by Danielle Bourdon

  When Cole stepped out of the bathroom, toweling his hair dry, Madalina’s contemplations came to a grinding halt. Instead, she appreciated the handsome man standing before her. Casually and comfortably naked, he was a six-foot-four monolith of solid muscle. The bulk of his thighs flexed with each vigorous rub of the towel through his hair, the cut of his abdomen sharp and defined. What she loved most was the breadth of his chest, shoulders, and back. The way the sinew stretched and twitched never failed to fascinate her.

  “Madalina?”

  She realized Cole had been speaking. Her eyes darted to his face. “What?”

  “I asked who was on the phone.”

  “Brandon.”

  “What did he say?” Cole tossed the damp towel negligently over the back of a nearby chair.

  “The information will cost you a kiss.” She smiled to entice her lover closer.

  Cole laughed but circled the bed until he was beside it, then planted his hands and leaned in to claim her mouth with his own. It was no mild peck on the lips, but a taking. As if the idea of a kiss had been his all along. Leave it to Cole to take command, she thought, finessing control of the situation right out of her hands.

  After the kiss, when he’d leaned back and gone to find clothes from the duffel bag, Madalina finally repeated Brandon’s news.

  Cole grunted in consideration as he pulled jeans over his hips and drew a plain gray T-shirt over his head.

  “What do you think?” she asked, watching as Cole pulled on a familiar pair of boots.

  “The information sounds pretty straightforward. I’d like to talk to Thaddeus first, though, and give the idea of going to Brazil some harder thought before we make any final decisions. All right?” He met her gaze across the room.

  Madalina pulled her knees to her chest, sheets clinging to her shins and thighs. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she considered his request. It was the smart move. She wasn’t entirely sure she felt safe despite Brandon’s call, though she badly wanted to visit the address and find what her grandfather had left her. “All right. Do you think Thaddeus will have different information than Brandon?”

  “Yes, because I asked him to send a few scouts to the address in Rio. I wanted to know if anyone appeared to be openly watching the place or whether it looked broken into. Plus, he’ll have his own opinion, which is typically different than mine or Brandon’s or any of my other brothers’.”

  Madalina had met Brandon and liked him very much. She tried to picture what Cole would be like around all his brothers, what kind of rapport the family had. In the brief interactions she’d witnessed between Cole and Brandon, they’d seemed close. As an only child, she’d always wondered what it would be like to have siblings. “I always wished I had brothers or sisters. Although I hear girls are harder to manage than boys.”

  “Were you a handful as a child?” He eyed her as if he thought there could be no doubt of her mischievous nature.

  “What? Me? I was an angel.”

  He laughed. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

  “My halo is around here somewhere, I assure you.” She batted her lashes at him and climbed out of bed, intent on a long, hot shower. There were several hours left before checkout, and she wanted to depart the room clean and in new clothes. Cole had surely packed her something to wear in the duffel bag. The way he tracked her across the room put a flush in her cheeks and a sultry sway in her step. Now she knew how he’d felt moments ago when she’d appraised him so openly while he was naked.

  “The thoughts you inspire are anything but pure,” he said in a rumbling voice. Then he put the phone to his ear, eyes on her hips.

  Madalina twirled the last three steps into the bathroom and closed the door on his predatory look. Tempted to put her ear to the door and listen in on his side of the conversation with Thaddeus, she stepped to the shower and flicked it on. She would find out soon enough whether she and Cole were one step closer to a Brazilian vacation.

  “I can tell you that the door wasn’t open and the single window wasn’t broken. As for whether someone got in, tossed the place, and got back out again is too hard to tell. Sometimes these people leave an obvious swath of destruction, and sometimes they sneak in and sneak out and it’s difficult to tell anyone was ever there. As you well know, brother,” Thaddeus said.

  Cole stood at the window in the main living area, looking down over part of the hotel parking lot. Abundant sunshine cast a warm glow over the rows of high-end cars and the manicured hedges, promising to bring more heat later in the day. He listened to his brother’s update, adding the new information to everything else he’d learned today. “What about surveillance?”

  “Walcot lived in a very small room packed among so many shacks that our guys couldn’t get a bead on watchers. There were simply too many people coming and going. You know how it is there. Busier than hell. I imagine the grandfather planned it this way, making himself a small target just in case anyone ever did come looking,” Thaddeus said.

  “It sounds like an easy in and out.” But Cole had learned the hard way that some things that appeared easy were, in fact, the most difficult to maneuver around. He was somewhat surprised to hear that Walcot had apparently lived in a favela, what amounted to slums.

  “Sounds easy. Yes. If I were a paranoid man, I’d say things appear almost too comfortable,” Thaddeus replied.

  Cole grunted. He thought the same thing. One item didn’t ring true with that idea, however. “Except if the objects were there, then there should be no need for anyone to wait to see if we show up. Right? They would just go in, take what they want, and get out.”

  “Unless the grandfather didn’t make the objects easy to find. Maybe there’s a clue only she could decipher.”

  “True.” Cole considered it. He was torn: he wanted to take Madalina to Brazil and unravel the mystery. On the other hand, he wanted to ignore the note, the intrigue, and live their life as they had been. Safe, undisturbed, settling into a routine that made them both happy. Is she really as happy as she could be? Cole wasn’t sure. Madalina talked like she had caught the same bug that he and the rest of his family lived by: the addiction to adrenaline and solving puzzles. This particular excursion had complications written all over it. That he wavered so much for and against spoke of his growing affection and love for the only girl who had ever stolen his heart.

  “So you can go and take a look, but I’d watch my back if I were you. Take a few extra precautions,” Thaddeus said.

  “I’d take the precautions anyway,” Cole replied.

  “You sound unconvinced.”

  “I’m on the fence. It makes me a little uneasy to expose her again to a situation that has the potential to burn out of control.”

  “She must really be something. You would have taken that challenge head-on, belligerent and defiant, a few short months ago,” Thaddeus said.

  “Yeah, well. The more I think about it, the more I hesitate.”

  “Brandon’s report came back favorable,” Thaddeus pointed out.

  “It did. About as favorable as yours. I just need to think about it for a day or two. Although if she doesn’t want to go, I certainly won’t force her.” Cole turned from the window. He dragged a hand through his still-drying hair.

  “Let me know. I can provide some covert backup if you need it. The scouts we sent are hanging around, just in case.”

  “I will. Talk soon.” Cole ended the call and pushed the phone into his pocket. It took him only a few minutes to gather his and Madalina’s discarded clothes and fold them into the duffel bag. The shower cut off while he pulled the zipper shut.

  The bathroom door swung open. Madalina had one towel wrapped around her body and one around her head. “So, what did he say?”

  “Everything looks clear enough. There isn’t any detectable threat. Which doesn’t mean it’s not there—”


  “I know. But if the agents have backed off, like they said they would, then we should be able to skip over there and back without anyone noticing. I’ve been considering everything while I was in the shower, and I think we should go,” she said.

  Cole wanted to groan at the light in her eyes. She looked ready to dress and board a plane. He could almost feel the anticipation. “What happened to your trepidation?”

  She lifted a bare shoulder. “I feel safer hearing from your brothers. Don’t get me wrong; I’m still wary. But I do feel better. And the more I consider my grandfather’s note, the more I want to go. I’ll defer to whatever you think is best in the end. You do this more than I do.”

  She approached on quiet feet. “What did you bring me to wear?”

  Cole, relieved that she didn’t seem intent on pressing the issue right now, realized he’d neglected to take Madalina’s clothing out. The zipper buzzed open again. “Something suitable for a shopping trip and brunch.”

  He couldn’t have known then that the last thing he would be thinking about doing a few hours from now was eating.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  By the time they stepped through the front door of their rented Tudor-style home, Madalina was on top of the world. There had been a necklace to match the earrings and bracelet that Cole prompted her to open before leaving the hotel, a quick shopping trip at a local mall resulting in scads of new outfits, and a sumptuous brunch at a restaurant they’d never tried. The morning had been full of fun and laughter and discreet, stolen kisses. She couldn’t have hoped for a better homecoming than the hours she’d spent with Cole.

  Setting a load of bags and boxes down in the sunshine-filled foyer, she glanced over her shoulder to see Cole enter in her wake. He closed the door and threw the bolt.

  Laden with packages, he bypassed her for the stairs. He said, “How about you pour us a drink?”

  Madalina shone a smile his way, watching his effortless trek to the second floor. “Okay, I guess I’ll let you twist my arm. What do you want? Wine, scotch?”

  “I’d say it’s too early for that, but you’ve already had champagne with brunch. Wine for me instead of scotch. Thanks.” He disappeared into the upstairs hallway.

  Madalina headed through an archway, past a roomy sitting area, into the kitchen. Humming a melody under her breath, she stepped around the large island, intent on the liquor cupboard, when a streak of something dark on the Italian tiles caught her attention. She glanced down, sidestepping the streak out of habit until she could better identify what it was. Initially she figured it came from a spilled glass of wine. Except she and Cole rarely left glasses sitting on the counter or the island, especially filled with liquid.

  When she realized she was looking at a streak of blood, she froze. Her mind finally caught up to reality, finally understood the ramifications. Go, move, get out, call for Cole. Find a weapon. In those initial breaths of a second, her body refused to move, while her instinct screamed for action. The joints of her knees locked, feet glued to the floor. It took her another full second to break the spell of terror that gripped her.

  “Cole!” She spun on a heel, snatching a butcher knife from a block within arm’s reach. Ready to do battle with the enemy.

  Cole threw the packages on the bed as Madalina’s scream echoed up the stairs into the upper hallway. Her scream had a panicked urgency to it that made him think she was confronting an adversary. Immediately he went into warrior mode, liberating a weapon from a hiding spot in a dresser drawer, thumbing the safety off as he ran. His senses stretched ahead and behind, listening for telltale sounds of others in the house, of danger, of an unseen threat. The idea that someone, or someones, had gotten past the gated security system and the separate alarm on the house told him he was dealing with professionals.

  Most likely the same agents he and Madalina had dealt with during the last dragon situation.

  Because he didn’t have time to check all the upper-floor rooms, he put the small of his back against the stairway banister and used it as a brace while swinging the gun ahead and behind, forced to cover himself from every angle as he went down the steps. He didn’t want an intruder sneaking up the second his back was turned.

  So far, nothing. No one came out of any upper-floor rooms. Madalina had gone silent, which could be a good or bad thing. Entering the foyer he crossed to the nearest wall and crept along it toward the passway into the living area.

  On quiet feet he used furniture for cover, always careful to glance over his shoulder, until he stepped into the kitchen. He could hear the faint rasp of breathing and rustles of clothing. Madalina stood near the pantry, using it as a shield, hands gripping a butcher knife. Her eyes were wide, body tense with alarm and fear.

  Thus far he could detect no discernible threat. He didn’t immediately see anyone else in the kitchen, either near the counters or by the eat-in dining table. Madalina wouldn’t scream and go for a knife like that, he knew, unless something had startled her into action. Something serious.

  When she glanced over and caught his eye, he put a finger against his lips to silence any sound she might make.

  That was when she used one hand to point at the floor behind the island.

  Cole inched around the side of the cabinets for a better vantage of what she was pointing at, unsure what he was about to see.

  A streak of blood darkened the floor. He did not mistake the stain for anything other than what it was: proof that someone was, or had been, inside the house.

  Creeping closer he noted that the blood was relatively fresh, which meant the injury had probably happened not more than a few hours ago. He gauged the size of the stain to be five or six inches long and four inches wide. Not a mortal wound unless the injured party had fled elsewhere to die. If so, there would be a lot more smears and streaks on the tile.

  At Madalina’s side he pressed close, able to hear the fear in each agonized, indrawn breath. Instead of speaking aloud, he mouthed, Stay right behind me. At the end of the kitchen, he spotted a small dot of blood, which appeared to have been flattened by a footprint. Picking up a haphazard trail, he followed the blood dots into the hallway toward the garage. Still no body. While he trusted Madalina to watch their backs, he glanced over his shoulder several times just to reassure himself that he wasn’t leading her—and himself—into a trap.

  The connecting door to the garage proved to have a smudge of blood on the handle. Whoever had been here had made it this far, then escaped to a vehicle and fled the property or took off on foot. Was there more than one person? Had an intruder fallen in the kitchen, banged their head, and staggered out again? It wasn’t impossible for a stranger to get past the front-gate security or to hack the system on the house. Difficult, but not impossible. That scenario didn’t feel right somehow, didn’t feel like the correct progression of events. He thought someone who had taken such daring measures to get past security and into a protected house would have been more careful.

  Gesturing to Madalina to stand flat against the wall so she could more easily see both ways down the hall, he used the hem of his shirt to grasp the knob and open the door, avoiding the blood smear as much as possible.

  Leading with the gun, he swept into the garage. Pivoting left-right-left, on alert for an ambush, he scanned the interior. The long workbench against the right wall seemed undisturbed, and no bodies littered the floor. Madalina’s car, a new acquisition only a week old, sat in the far stall, a potential hiding place for intruders. He closed the distance on quick, silent feet, noting that the blood trail had gone cold. No more spatters or droplets littered the cement floor.

  After a brief search of the deep-red Cadillac, which turned up no new clues, he exited the garage into the hallway. Madalina remained where he’d left her, her grip so tight on the knife that her knuckles were white.

  “We need to check the rest of the house. Every room,” he whispered. From there Cole le
d Madalina through a methodical, thorough check of the house. Every room, every niche, every possible place a body could hide. The pantry, laundry room, closed cupboards, even the attic all got searched. They found no more blood and no one waiting to strike.

  For some odd reason, an intruder had broken in, injured themselves, and left without stealing a thing.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Madalina was reluctant to give up the weapon. Because she didn’t understand what had happened in their house, because she didn’t know where the intruder had gone or why they’d broken in to begin with, she balked at giving up the knife. Cole finally coaxed it from her stiff fingers and slid it back into the butcher block in the kitchen. Her heart still raced a mile a minute, as if the intruder had chased her from one end of the home to the other.

  “You hearing me, Madalina?” Cole asked.

  “Yes. I know no one is in the house any longer and that I don’t need the knife,” she replied, bringing her focus back to Cole.

  “No, I just said that I thought it was strange that someone broke in and didn’t steal anything. And somehow hurt themselves, though on what, I can’t tell. All the knives were clean, the countertop was spotless, so how and where did they get injured?” Cole led Madalina out of the kitchen, avoiding the drying smear of blood.

  “I don’t know. It happened while we were gone, though, which makes me feel like someone’s been watching the house. Waiting until they knew it was empty.” The long weeks it had taken her to overcome her previous fears of being stalked and kidnapped evaporated like no time had gone by at all. She felt hunted again, wary to be alone in any part of the house. Or anywhere, for that matter. Someone had gotten past all their security measures with the intent to—she didn’t know what.

  “That’s what it seems like. We’ll find out right now. Come on.” Cole led her upstairs by the hand. “The security footage will show us exactly who got in and what happened.”