by Zara Chase
“We need to get you into bed,” she said, turning off the shower and reaching for a towel.
She dried him off and then herself, unwrapped the waterproof protector from his arm, dosed him with painkillers, and tucked him into bed. He appeared to fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
“I’ll stay with him,” Porcha said, heading for the opposite side of the bed, “just in case he needs me.”
“We need you,” Beck said, playing the fool again.
“Your time will come, big boy,” she said, pausing to kiss both him and Adam before climbing in next to Troy.
* * * *
Troy woke with the dawn, feeling battered, bruised, and lucky to be alive. It had been a close one. He glanced at the sleeping Porcha and died a little inside. Had she told him that she loved him or was that just wishful thinking? Well of course it damned well was! Why would a classy lady like her want anything to do with a has-been soldier like him—like them? He ran a finger along her hip, and her eyes instantly flew open.
“Are you all right?” She leaned up on one elbow, her tits dangling below her, and reached out a hand to touch his brow. “What do you need?”
“You.”
“Troy, you’ve been badly hurt.”
“Hmm, I can think of a good way to make the pain go away.”
“You’re in pain. Where does it hurt?”
“Right here.” He took her hand and guided it to his erection. “Think you can do anything about that swelling, nurse?”
“Well, I’m not sure. Perhaps it needs washing.” She ran her tongue across her lips, making it clear what she intended to do the washing with. “What do you think?”
His chuckle sounded as lethal as he now felt. “You’re the professional health caregiver, so I’ll be guided by you.”
“That’s right, I am.” She dropped a light kiss on his lips. “So you’d best place yourself in my hands.”
“Now there’s a prospect to conjure with.”
Porcha slid down his body, obviously taking care not to touch his cuts and bruises, and took his prick in her mouth. His sharp intake of breath lent nothing to pain as she sucked him deeper, gently agitating his balls as her tongue went to work. Troy closed his eyes and let her do whatever the hell she liked with those magical lips of hers. He’d earned this one.
The door opened just as he bucked to a climax in her mouth.
“No need to ask how the patient’s doing,” Beck said cheerfully. “I found you some fresh clothes,” he added. “Not that you appear to need any right now.”
“Morning, Beck.” Porcha lifted her head and wiped her lips with the back of her hand.
“Morning, darling.” He bent to kiss her. “Is that all part of your bedside technique?”
“It’s the first thing they teach you at English nursing school. Far cheaper than prescription drugs.”
“I can vouch for its authenticity.” Troy sat up and winced. “Damned arm’s still stiff.”
Beck grinned. “Unlike the rest of you.”
A short time later, Porcha joined Adam and Beck in the kitchen. Adam had taken over and produced breakfast, which Woollard joined them for.
“Glad to see you’re okay,” he said to Troy, appearing to mean it.
Adam waved a fork at him. “Tell us how you got away.”
Troy gave them an abbreviated version.
“Sanchez-Punto’s guards aren’t very vigilant,” Beck observed.
“No, I wouldn’t like to be in their shoes right now,” Troy agreed. “First Porcha and then I got past them.”
“What are we gonna do about him?” Adam asked. “He won’t let up, and now he has us in his sights, too. He’s obviously a guy with a long memory who knows how to bear a grudge.”
“It would help if we had some idea how he intended to get this last load of diamonds in,” Troy said.
“I wish I could help.” Woollard spread his hands. “But I honestly don’t have a clue.”
The internal house phone rang. Woollard stood up to answer it, asked a few curt questions, and then told the caller to let the delivery through.
“I’d forgotten about that,” he said, sitting back at the table.
“About what?” asked several voices.
“Sal was celebrating his return to the paths of legitimacy—”
“Not that he’d ever occupied them in the first place,” Beck pointed out.
“Whatever, he was marking the occasion by buying Porcha a car. He wanted her to be able to go out alone and just have fun driving. The car was to be your birthday present,” he added, glancing at her.
“It’s your birthday?” Troy, Adam, and Beck asked together.
“Tomorrow.”
“Let’s go see what your perverted husband bought you.”
They trouped outside in time to see a bright yellow Porsche 911 convertible come to a stop outside the front door. The delivery guy gave Woollard something to sign and disappeared into the car that had followed him in.
Troy shared a glance with his two buddies.
“Now we know what Sal was really trying to say,” he said.
Woollard shook his head. “What do you mean?”
“The guy you captured who’d been in on the interrogation of Sal told you he kept repeating two words over and over, right?”
“Yes, Porcha and hidden.”
“Exactly. He wasn’t saying Porcha knew where the stones were hidden,” Troy explained. “He didn’t drop her in it at all. He was saying that they were hidden in the Porsche.”
Porcha gasped. “I’m guessing you’re right.” She paused. “I’m glad.”
Troy touched her shoulder. “Get the car into the garage,” he said to Woollard. “If there are diamonds hidden anywhere in the bodywork it won’t take Beck long to find them.”
An hour later, Beck reported that the car was clean. “But there was something hidden in the door panels,” he said, washing his hands to remove the grease from them as he spoke. “The screws had been put back in a hurry and hadn’t been tightened up properly.”
“Which doesn’t help us much,” Adam said gloomily.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Troy fell into a kitchen chair, and the others, including Woollard, joined him. “Do we know when that car arrived in the country?”
“It usually takes between one and two weeks to clear stuff through all the channels.”
“So, Sal’s tame port man would have nodded the car through before word of Sal’s death hit the news.”
“And once he knew he was dead, he reckoned to take a little look-see and helped himself,” Beck added.
“That’s how I see it.”
“Then we’re still back to square one,” Porcha pointed out.
“Not necessarily.” Troy turned toward Woollard. “Are you serious in that you only want to be involved with Sal’s legitimate businesses?”
“They belong to Porcha now.”
“I don’t want anything to do with them.” She flicked a half smile at Woollard. “Be my guest.”
“We can talk about that later. If I run them then you deserve a cut of the profits, not to mention this house and all Sal’s other assets.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I shall leave here with a suitcase full of clothes and nothing more. You’re his son. It’s all yours. I intend to make a new start. I don’t want a life that’s built on the profits from other people’s misery.” Adam was seated beside Porcha, and she reached for his hand. “I should have listened to Georgio and given Sal a wide berth.”
“Sal was trying to give you more freedom by going legitimate,” Beck said.
“No, I’m sure he wasn’t. He was very good at flamboyant gestures, but I would still have been as firmly under his control as ever. Woollard’s mother escaped him, and he wasn’t going to let that happen a second time.” She expelled a long breath. “He had me well trained, and although I hated what he made me do, it was as though he’d got inside my head and I couldn’t seem to fight a
gainst him.”
Troy smiled across the table at her. “What I’m trying to say is that Sanchez-Punto wanted to muscle in on Sal’s diamond-smuggling business. Well, we might not be able to give him the diamonds, but we can give him a list of all Sal’s contacts, the people along the line who made it happen.” He glanced at Woollard, who nodded in agreement. “We can also tell him who we think has the diamonds that were in the Porsche. It’ll be up to him what he does about that.”
“And we give him all that in return for leaving us alone.”
Troy shrugged. “Why wouldn’t he? He’ll have gotten what he wants.”
They talked it over for more than an hour, but no one could think of a better way to resolve the problem.
“Okay then,” Troy said. “Let’s do it.”
Woollard dialed the appropriate number and handed the phone to Troy. He asked for Sanchez-Punto.
“Tell him I’m the guy who escaped through the air duct.”
A sharp voice came on the line seconds later.
“You have some nerve.”
“I also have a proposition for you.”
“I’m listening.”
“I’d prefer to do this in person.”
“I’m sure you would, but why should I agree?”
“You want the diamonds, don’t you?”
“You have them?”
“I know where they are.”
“Very well.”
They agreed to meet in the same place on South Beach where they’d met Woollard.
“We don’t have to do this,” Troy pointed out. “We’re coming to you in good faith to bring an end to this mess. Don’t make me regret that decision and don’t let me see more than three of you.”
“I understand,” Sanchez-Punto said curtly. “It’s not you I want, and I guarantee that no harm will come to you, during this meeting at any rate.”
Troy hung up, aware that the code of conduct pursuant to villains meant he’d probably keep his word. Besides, he had to be dying of curiosity. Even so, Troy didn’t intend to take any chances.
“Pack that suitcase, Porcha,” he said sharply. “Whatever happens, we’ll not be coming back here afterward.”
“Okay, it won’t take me long.”
“I need weapons,” Troy said to Woollard.
“What do you need?”
Once Troy was armed to his satisfaction, they made yet another trip into Miami in two cars. Porcha traveled in the truck with the three guys, and Woollard was with Kevin and a couple more of his men in a car immediately behind them.
Sanchez-Punto was already seated at a table outside the bar they’d agreed to meet at. The boss man who’d tried to kidnap Porcha was with him along with another guy. Adam and Beck took up flank positions across the road. Woollard’s men did likewise, completely surrounding the place and not attempting to hide their presence from Sanchez-Punto. It was just Porcha, with Troy on one side of her and Woollard on the other, who joined the party.
“I don’t think I caught your name,” Sanchez-Punto said by way of greeting.
“That’s because you don’t need to know it.”
“The woman called him Troy.”
“A Greek warrior or a wooden horse? Which are you, I wonder.”
“You want Sal’s diamonds,” Troy said, ignoring the other man’s attempts to get beneath his defences, “but they’re gone.” He held up a hand to prevent Sanchez-Punto’s protest and explained what had happened.
“Then who has them?”
“We think the port official who Sal paid to look the other way. He was bent, greedy, and knew Sal was dead…” Woollard’s words trailed off, like it had to be obvious.
“What we’re prepared to offer you,” Troy told him, “are the names of everyone who helped Sal bring the stones in, right back to the source in Africa.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because I don’t want anything to do with it,” Porcha said, shuddering. “I want to be left alone to get on with my life. I’m done with looking over my shoulder.”
“And you?” He cast a glance at Woollard. “You were Sal’s protégé. Why would you sell out the most lucrative part of his business?”
“For my mother’s sake,” he said, maintaining eye contact with Sanchez-Punto. “She didn’t approve, you see.”
The Mexicans exchanged a smirk.
“Didn’t have you pegged as a mommy’s boy.”
Woollard didn’t rise to the bait. “I’m sure you remember Ava,” he said calmly.
An angry hiss escaped Sanchez-Punto’s lips. “You were Sal’s son?” he asked slowly. “Ava’s your mother?”
“Yes.”
“I had no idea.” He shook his head. “The possibility hadn’t once occurred to me, but now that you mention it, I see a faint resemblance round the eyes.” He paused, lost in some distant recollection. “How is your dear mother?”
“She died from a respiratory disease eight years ago.”
“I’m sorry.” And he looked as though he really was. “She was a remarkable lady.”
“That she was.”
“So,” Troy said briskly. “Do we have a deal?”
Sanchez-Punto extended a hand across the table. “We have a deal.”
“You might wanna tighten up on your security before you embark on this venture,” Troy said, unable to resist having a dig. “To lose two of us in the same day smacks of inefficiency, if you ask me.”
“How’s Raul?” Porcha asked sweetly.
“He’s got a damned sight more than a bash over the head to worry about right now. And that goes for all the others, too.” The Mexican flexed his jaw. “I didn’t think I needed to send my best team just to capture one helpless woman. My respects, Mrs. Gonzalez,” he added, inclining his head. “You equipped yourself well.”
Chapter Twenty
Half an hour later, the truck was on its way back to St. Pete. Troy sat in the back, holding Porcha’s hand, weary yet too hyped up to sleep the four-hour journey away.
“Seems to me like we have a birthday party to plan,” Beck remarked from behind the wheel. “What would you like from us, sweetheart?”
“Hmm, I get to choose, do I?” She plucked at her lower lip, as though thinking about it. “Well, in that case, how about I have you all?”
Troy grinned. “If you ask me, we’ve got an insatiable little sub on our hands.”
“And that’s a bad thing because…” Beck grinned at Troy and allowed his words to trail off.
“It’s not my fault that I love you all and can’t choose between you.”
“For my part, I shall rise to the occasion in more senses than one and excel myself in the culinary department,” Adam told them.
“You always do.” Porcha leaned forward to kiss the back of his neck. “You’d make someone a lovely husband.”
He flashed a grin over his shoulder. “You offering, babe?”
“No, she isn’t,” Beck answered for her.
“Have I told you guys how amazing you were back there?” Porcha asked. “All those risks you took for me were quite something, but then playing hardball with Sanchez-Punto at the end when you could have just left things in abeyance.” She shook her head. “I haven’t done anything to deserve such service.”
Beck took one hand off the wheel, reached back, and patted her knee. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“I’m sure you’ll find a way to express your thanks.” Troy’s hand crept across her thigh. Her legs fell open, giving him access to her crotch. He explored it with the pad of his thumb through the denim of her jeans. “We like surprises.”
“Can I stay with you until I—”
“Where else would you stay?” all three of them asked together.
“Until what?” Adam asked suspiciously.
“Until I arrange a flight back to England, of course.”
“Why would you want to do that?” Troy asked, perplexed.
“It’s home,” she said simply.
�
�Home is where the heart is, babe,” Beck said.
She sighed. “If only it were that easy.”
They arrived back at the house to find the door repaired and new keys awaiting them. Troy’s desk had been replaced with a sound version of the same model and, significantly, no signs of the struggle that had gone down were now evident. The body had been removed, as had all blood traces, and everything was back in its place.
“Gotta love Georgio,” Beck said.
It was late evening by then. Adam knocked together a simple meal, and as soon as it was over Porcha claimed fatigue and took herself off to bed.
“We have a problem,” Troy said as soon as she’d gone. “We can’t possibly let her to back to England.”
“Damned right we can’t,” Beck agreed.
“I don’t like it that she took herself off to bed alone,” Troy said, scowling. “It’s like she’s already distancing herself from us.”
“Would she stay with us if we asked her to?” Adam asked. “What can we offer her that she didn’t have in greater abundance with her creep of a husband?”
“Three large cocks. Far as I can gather, she only ever got one there.” Beck scowled. “And he humiliated her for sport, the bastard.”
“She did say she loved us all,” Troy reminded them.
“Yes, but she might not have meant it in the way you hope she did.” Adam grimaced. “I reckon we need to give her what Sal didn’t, and that’s freedom to be herself. That way she’ll enjoy submitting to us but will have a sense of self-worth, too.”
“Yeah,” Beck grumbled, “but how do we do that?”
“Okay.” Troy nodded in agreement. “Tomorrow’s her birthday. Here’s what I suggest.”
* * * *
Porcha woke early on the morning of her twenty-sixth birthday and stretched her arms above her head, feeling rested and restored. She smiled when she recalled where she was. She’d half expected one of the guys to join her during the night, but they were obviously as exhausted as she herself had felt. Still, this was a new day—her day—and she fully intended to enjoy them all to the full.
She jumped out of bed, hit the shower, and then wandered downstairs wearing shorts and a strappy top.
