Heated Pursuit

by April Hunt

  Rafe had been sweet telling her it wasn’t as big a deal as she thought, but they both knew that had been a fib. Well, she knew it.

  Mistakes and failure hadn’t been tolerated in the Kline house—at least when she’d lived there. Her father’s pep talks went something like: Fell off a bike? Get back on it. Got pummeled by a bully at school? Hit them back harder. When she’d fallen off the school monkey bars and dislocated her shoulder, her father’s reply to the nurse’s phone call? Slip it back in and send her back to class.

  At seven years old.

  Rafe and her father were sculpted from the same kind of clay. He did his job without apology, put his life on the line for what was right. Fearless may as well be his middle name. Yet last night, he’d held her close, offered reassurances instead of anecdotes, soft caresses instead of shrug-it-off pats on the ass—and all the while he pretended not to notice the subtle shake of her shoulders.

  Each day, Rafe showed her that he wasn’t the typical red-blooded male. It was a good thing, but it wasn’t enough for a storybook ending. One look at Carlotta, back in her drug-induced stupor this morning, confirmed it. Happily ever afters weren’t possible as long as sick men like Fuentes roamed free, and as long as they did, men like Rafe would feel inclined to put a stop to them.

  Penny had just grabbed another ice cube when the man himself strutted onto the patio. Behind her sunglasses, she let her eyes feast. He was too sexy for both his own good and hers. His shirt, half unbuttoned and hanging loose, showcased muscles that had been chiseled from years of hard work and extreme circumstances. And the dark strip of hair that bisected his tanned chest and sculpted abs trailed provocatively beneath the waist of his pants. Picturing its ending destination would’ve made her stumble in her six-inch platform sandals if she hadn’t been lying down.

  Rafe’s mouth twitched with a smirk. “Undressing me with your eyes, Roja?”

  “Are you here to stop me?”

  “Absolutely not. You look to be enjoying yourself.”

  “I’d be enjoying myself a lot more if you were here with me, baby.” Rafe’s eyes darkened, telling Penny that her words had their desired effect. “Are you sure you have time to spend with me? I wouldn’t want to take you away from your work.”

  “Right now all I want to work on is you, Roja.”

  It was the phrase they’d come up with to signal that things were on track, but it still spread a liquid warmth straight to her nonexistent bikini bottoms. All they needed now was to wait for sundown, and Rafe would be able to go all dark-wing commando without being seen by the many layers of Fuentes’s security.

  Rafe grabbed the tube of sun block from her bag and with a gentle tap on her hip, he ordered her to flip. The butterflies in her stomach turned prehistoric in size, but she turned, pretending that waiting for his touch wasn’t the excitement equivalent of national All-You-Can-Eat Ice Cream Day.

  Oh, who the hell was she kidding? It surpassed it—by miles.

  Rafe worked the warm lotion into his palms, then turned his strong hands onto the knots in her shoulders. Down her spine and around her torso, with every inch he touched, goose bumps that had nothing to do with wind-induced chills peppered her skin. There was a whole lot of something to be said for a man with callus-roughened hands.

  When his hands slid back up beneath the string holding her top in place, her breath quickened. Her breasts, crushed beneath her weight, grew sensitive and heavy. “Rafe,” she croaked, his name sounding more like a moan.

  “Go on and turn over, Roja.”

  She obeyed without question. Even if she’d been able to form a cohesive thought, the sight of his erection straining against his linen pants would’ve cleared it from her mind. Fuentes’s men watched their every move, but when Rafe sat on the edge of her lounge and took her leg in his hand, there was no way she was going to tell him to stop.

  Hot tingles followed the path of his hands, from the delicate arch of her foot to the sensitive spot behind her knee.

  “When it’s just the two of us, you’re going to give me a private showing,” Rafe murmured. His eyes followed the path of hands.

  “A showing?”

  “You. Me. And that damn cup of ice. You have no idea how much I want to take you back to our room right the hell now.” Rafe’s voice grew rougher the higher his hands went. “I want to taste every inch of you. Touch you. Make you scream so hard your throat goes raw. And all before I finally bury myself into this lush little body.” Rafe let out a long, low groan. “This bathing suit is just fucking cruel, sweetheart.”

  He skated his hands just below the swells of her breasts. Penny sucked in a sharp breath as the backs of his knuckles brushed over her tightened cloth-covered nipples. Her reaction brought a smug smile to his lips.

  “So is what you’re doing to me right now,” Penny panted breathlessly.

  His smile made her heart skip a beat. For Penny, the lines of reality quickly started blurring together. Add in her own swelling feelings, and her mucked-up head didn’t know which way was right or left, real or for the sake of their cover.

  With Diego’s men across the patio, there was no reason to mutter such words—unless he meant them—which was dangerous in its own right. It was way too close to what she desperately hoped would happen, and would keep happening.

  She pulled her legs from his grasp, needing to put some distance between them before she did something so embarrassing there was no returning from it. She stood too fast, the epic heels catching on the lip of the patio. Graceful, she wasn’t. Her arms flailed as she pitched forward…right into the cavern of Rafe’s waiting arms.

  Penny didn’t have the chance to voice her complaint aloud when his hand brushed over her cheek and into her hair. Gentle yet guiding, he held her in place as he brought his lips down against hers. One nip to her lower lip and she went boneless.

  “No running, Roja,” Rafe murmured his order, his voice low and rough. “Not from me. Not ever.”

  He brought his mouth back to hers in a kiss that sucked the air straight from her lungs. It wasn’t a hesitant meeting. It was a full-scale invasion as his tongue slid past her lips and into her mouth. Between the hand entwined in her hair and the one settled proprietarily on her ass, she couldn’t move. She didn’t want to move. She gripped his shoulders and let herself be plundered.

  The kiss rode waves of change: soft and steady, hot and needful. All devastating. This was the dangerous part of their operation, because it didn’t take long before it wasn’t Nell Hanlan kissing Rafael Manuel. It was Penny kissing Rafe.

  About the time she started giving back what he demanded of her, Rafe’s body stiffened beneath her palms.

  Penny stopped, noting that her leg had coiled itself behind his knee. Good God. She’d been about to climb the man like a tree. No wonder he’d frozen. They were in public, for God’s sake, with not only Fuentes’s guards surrounding them, but dozens of cameras probably hiding in every nook and cranny and filming the entire show.

  Embarrassment coated her cheeks pink as she uncoiled her body from around Rafe. Two seconds from apologizing, she noticed his attention focused over her shoulder.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. His sudden spike of tension told her that she probably didn’t want to know. “Rafe?”

  “It looks like Fuentes invited another guest. Show nothing when you turn around, Red. I mean it. Absolutely nothing. And if I tell you to run, you run.”

  The urgency in his voice made her want to run right then—and hide. “You’re making me nervous.”

  “Then you’re not alone.”

  And that made her really nervous.

  “Rafael!” Diego’s voice boomed, demanding attention.

  Penny turned, attention focused in the direction of Rafe’s gaze. Standing next to Fuentes was a much younger man.

  “I’d like to introduce my nephew, Marco.” Diego brought the young man closer. “He has been overseeing the production aspect of our product and will be the one to guide y
our tour of our facilities. I’d been expecting his arrival sooner, but he had been unexpectedly detained. The matter has now been cleared, and he will be joining us for our discussions.”

  Rafe’s fingers dug into Penny’s waist in a supportive hold. To the untrained eye, Rafe looked relaxed, but every muscle was prepped to move fast. “How nice. A family business.”

  “And I aim to keep it that way,” the nephew stated matter-of-factly.

  When the nephew’s eyes shifted her way, both Penny’s heart and breath lodged in her throat.

  “Breathe, baby,” Rafe whispered. His lips brushed against her ear with a soft kiss.

  It was the jolt needed to push the air from her lungs before she passed out cold.

  Because standing in front of her was the abusive bastard from the alley.

  * * *

  Concern for Penny clawed at Rafe’s gut like a wild animal. Though she’d tried to hide her fear back at the pool, he’d seen her cheeks pale as she’d laid eyes on the thug from the alley—except he wasn’t a thug.

  A fucking nephew. There’d never been a shred of information on any living relatives—no sisters, brothers, or even childhood-fucking-pets. But he couldn’t ignore the possibility. Everything from the forty-year age gap to the twin glares they now fed one another across the desk made the resemblance between them uncanny.

  But unlike the alleyway thug, Marco exuded a self-appointed superiority his broken nose hadn’t managed to stifle. He’d even had the audacity to eye-fuck Penny while Rafe stood at her side. It was a sheer miracle he hadn’t put his fist through the bastard’s face. The only reason he hadn’t—besides Penny’s fist bunched into the fabric of his shirt—was that there wasn’t a hint of familiarity coming from Marco’s eyes. Nothing. Either he was a damn good actor, or he didn’t recognize her as the woman who’d broken his nose and knocked him unconscious.

  Despite their good fortune, Rafe still didn’t like her being out of his sight, but he’d had little choice when Diego suggested the three men retire to his office to talk business. He and Penny needed more info if they were to find Rachel and take down the operation. If that meant spending more time with Sick Fuck Numbers One and Two, so be it.

  “What we have in place is enough. We don’t need the likes of him.” Marco’s glare flipped toward Rafe the second the office door closed.

  “He has a name,” Rafe commented evenly.

  “You are what we call an efficiency sucker, Rafael,” Marco snarled. “An efficiency sucker and a waste of time. Everything has already been set into motion. Another player will only further complicate matters.”

  The younger Fuentes waited for Rafe to jump to the defensive. He did the opposite as he took a seat and leaned back, propping his leg on his knee. The lackadaisical response had Junior tightening his jaw.

  Diego spun toward his nephew. “What do you mean everything has already been set into motion? The final declaration was to go through me!”

  “And you put me in charge of production. It’s ready. There’s no reason to wait longer than necessary. We’ve waited too long as it is, and we lose money each day we delay the first shipment.”

  “Which is why Señor Manuel is here to discuss the use of his company.”

  “Fuck his company.”

  Diego’s eyes went wild. He moved damn fast for a man in his sixties. Coming out from behind his desk and into Marco’s face in seconds, the older Fuentes drilled the muzzle of a Beretta into the kid’s left nostril.

  “You have already made personal messes that I have been forced to clean up, and I refuse to let my business become yet another of your blunders. As long as there is life left in this body, you will make no choices without my permission. Is that clear?” Diego snarled. When Marco didn’t answer right away, Diego cocked the gun. “I asked you if that was clear.”

  “Claro.” Marco didn’t even blink.

  Diego continued glaring at his nephew before pulling the gun away and turning to Rafe with an apology. “This will be cleared up. Immediately. I promise you.”

  Rafe casually draped an arm along the back of his chair. “Unless Junior’s actions start impeding on my business, personal or otherwise, it’s of no concern to me. The first time it’s attempted will be the last.”

  “A man who doesn’t accept challenge is weak,” Marco growled.

  “I didn’t say I wouldn’t accept challenge.” Rafe hardened his gaze on the other man. “But it would be the last time that person would be capable of voluntary physical movement.”

  Diego focused his demand on his nephew and pointed toward the door. “Undo what you have already set in motion. And for your sake, nephew, I hope no damage has been done. Or I will not hesitate to feed you to the circling sharks at the DEA. You risk what is not yours.”

  Marco stood, throwing a severe scowl in Fuentes’s direction before muttering a soft, “We’ll see,” and slamming the door closed.

  * * *

  Penny fought against the return of last night’s dinner as shock curled her stomach into knots. She clutched the counter and willed the shake out of her hands. Even an ounce of Rafe’s cool stoicism would be good right about now. He hadn’t so much as batted an eye at Marco’s appearance. He’d been calm and level-headed, not a sign of unease anywhere on his face.

  Damn it. She really needed to learn how to summon his nerves of steel, especially when the chill in the air told her Marco had entered the kitchen.

  “Aren’t you missing the meeting?” she asked. Unwilling to let him linger at her back, she turned.

  “I think I’d be missing more by staying.” Marco’s gaze flashed down to her breasts. “How do you like my uncle’s home?”

  “Honestly, I’d much prefer a beach. All these trees make tanning impossible.”

  “Our view here is quite limited to the wilds of the jungle, but the treetops serve our purposes well. Besides, the sun is much too harsh for the delicate skin of a woman such as yourself. We wouldn’t want anything to mar this perfect flesh.”

  Smirking, Marco bracketed his hands on either side of her hips. In a matter of seconds, she became trapped between the edge of the counter and his body. Shivers of revulsion scoured their way along her nerve endings as the back of his hand brushed across the dip of her collarbone. He leaned forward, his breath scraping across her cheek. Rancid bile rose to her throat as he pushed the evidence of his arousal against her belly.

  “Maybe you should worry about your own skin, Señor Fuentes,” she warned. “My Rafael is a very jealous man. I can’t promise you that it would be the only thing at risk.”

  “A jealous man is an insecure man. And I don’t scare easily, mi bonita. You shouldn’t bother yourself with someone who would prefer to busy himself with business rather than the pleasure of your company.”

  “And you’re that type of man?” she asked dryly.

  “I’m a man of many surprises.” Marco’s hands slipped back to her hips, the bite of his fingers making her wince. “And I would love to show you all of them—starting with the way a man takes care of his woman. Properly.”

  “Remove your hands. Now.” Rafe stood in the doorway, his gaze fixed on Marco like a missile targeting its drop. His hands clenched and unclenched at his side. Face hard, and eyes harder, this wasn’t Rafael the businessman. This was Rafael the commando, the highly skilled soldier with the ability to make grown men pee their pants. “I wasn’t kidding earlier about losing voluntary movement, Junior. If I have to move your hands for you, you’ll regret it.”

  The younger Fuentes smiled as he turned unashamedly in Rafe’s direction. The second he dropped his arms, Penny skirted past and let Rafe tuck her at his back.

  “I’m okay,” she muttered.

  “Well, I’m not,” he returned softly before focusing his attention back on Marco. “You don’t like that I’m here, and I don’t really give a flying fuck. But while I’m working with your uncle, you damn well better keep your hands to yourself or you’ll have to learn how to jack off
with stumps.”

  Marco stepped forward until he was only inches away from Rafe’s face. “You. Cannot. Threaten. Me!”

  “I didn’t threaten. I promised. And once I make a promise, I keep it no matter the cost. Learn your place before I show you one you’re not likely to enjoy.”

  Marco ran a predatory glance over Penny’s body. “You can hardly fault a man for enjoying the artwork when you thrust him in front of a masterpiece. I wonder if she fucks as good as she looks. Perhaps you’d care to share, Rafael?”

  Penny grabbed Rafe’s arm just as he was about to lunge. “No. It’s not worth it.”

  Marco chuckled, turning from the room. Before he left, he flashed Penny a brazen wink that nearly had her releasing her hold on Rafe and telling him to go to town. “I look forward to our next meeting, mi bonita. Perhaps I’ll be able to show you I’m a man of my word as well.”

  Tension poured through the kitchen even in Marco’s absence. Penny let out a trembling breath. “Would it be terribly unprofessional of me to wish I could break his nose a second time?”

  She slipped in front of Rafe, who’d gone eerily still. His jaw flexed wildly with the hint of barely controlled anger.

  “Hey. It’s okay.” She soothingly stroked the hard lines of his jaw and mouth, and when that didn’t work, she stood on tiptoe and covered his face in feather-soft kisses. “Tone down the caveman. I’m okay. See?” She unclenched his fists and brought them to her cheeks. “You need to breathe and focus, because I’m pretty sure we’ve gone over how much I need you right now.”

  “He touched you.”

  “Yeah, he did,” she said carefully. “But it’s nothing a hot shower won’t cure, okay? Promise.”

  Rafe blinked. Once. Twice. And then he pulled her into a kiss, his hands holding her snugly against the front of his body as if trying to erase every bit of revulsion Marco’s touch had conjured. It worked. It wasn’t long before her whole body hummed pleasantly, Marco almost entirely forgotten.