by Anna Hackett
“They wanted to slow us down and send us back to shore.”
“Then they’ll sneak in and steal the emerald.”
He moved closer, touching her cheek. “We won’t let them win. They didn’t get into the bridge. They don’t have the exact coordinates of the Atocha.”
She gritted her teeth and nodded. She was so frustrated.
“We’ll have to head back to Key West. We need new diving equipment.” He stroked her cheek again. “And we need reinforcements. I don’t want a repeat of tonight.”
“I’m sorry that your equipment was destroyed,” she said.
He ran a finger down the slope of her nose. “I don’t give a fuck about the equipment, Sloan.”
Chapter Five
As they sailed back to Key West, Diego fumed.
Once again, Silk Road had boarded his boat under the cover of darkness, attacking innocent people in their sleep. Cowards. He’d been pissed the first time it had happened, off the coast of Madagascar on a THS mission, but now he was beyond angry.
He hoped to hell that whatever trap Darcy was planning worked and Silk Road was ground to dust.
Sloan sat quietly beside him on the bridge. Every time he looked at her bloodshot eyes, his anger surged. She could have died. His gut clenched. They’d pay for attacking her.
The hours ticked by, and finally, the lights of Key West appeared on the horizon. Sloan had been quiet for a while, and when he glanced her way, he saw she was asleep.
He realized he’d never seen her look so relaxed. Her lashes were dark against her skin, and she had a hand tucked under her face. The hunt for the emerald, Silk Road, and losing her grandfather were all taking a toll.
Diego felt a sudden urge to pull her into his lap and protect her from it all. He shook his head. If there was anyone who could take care of herself, it was Sloan McBride.
Finally, he pulled the Nymph into the marina. He ducked outside to tie off the boat. When he came back, she was still asleep. He gently touched her shoulder. “Sloan.”
She blinked, and when her sleepy gaze fell on him, she smiled. Something in his chest melted.
“We’re back already?” she asked.
“Yep. Sun’s just rising. I need to contact my equipment guy and find out how long it’ll take to get new gear, or get the current stuff repaired.”
“I want to get back out there today, Diego.”
“I’m not sure how long it’ll take. I’ll do my best to speed things along.”
She stood, shaking off sleep, her face morphing into her DEA agent face—hard and determined. “The quicker we get back out there, the quicker we can stop Silk Road from stealing our emerald.”
He smiled. “Our emerald, huh?”
She smiled back. “Yes.”
His smile faded. “You need to contact Darcy. We need backup.”
Sloan nodded. “I’ll call her and see how long it’ll take for Treasure Hunter Security to get here.”
He nodded. “Snap to it, sailor.”
She rolled her eyes and reached for her phone. Diego pulled out his cell and watched her wander out onto the balcony. He made his calls, calling in favors to his main equipment supplier. Bruno could be a pain in the ass, but he had good scuba gear.
Looking out the window, he saw Sloan in deep conversation. He hoped to hell that Dec and his team could get here soon.
There was no way Diego was risking Sloan’s life again.
She came back, frowning. “Darcy has to tidy some things up in DC before she can head down. She says Dec’s getting the THS team in Mexico to head our way, but it’ll take them twenty-four hours to get here.” Sloan huffed out a breath. “It’s too long.”
“We should wait for them.”
“We can’t, Diego. Silk Road knows the general area we’ve been diving in. They’ll find the Emerald Butterfly.”
He blew out a breath. “Okay, but we have to see if we can get the dive equipment first. Come on, let’s pay my guy a visit.”
Darcy Ward backed out of the tight crawlspace beneath the museum exhibit, cursing as she bumped her head.
Sitting back on the polished Travertine tile, she dusted off her hands. “There. Done. The wiring is all set up. Now, I need to get to Florida.”
A strong hand gripped her arm and helped her to her feet. “I need you here. This is our chance to take Silk Road down once and for all.”
Darcy jerked her arm away and spun. The main exhibit room of the Dashwood Museum was grand and gorgeous. The creamy tile floors contrasted with the glossy wooden walls. Large windows let in loads of sunlight, which helped outline the large frame of Agent Arrogant and Annoying.
As always, Darcy pondered the cosmic joke of how such an unsmiling, irritating, bossy man could look so damn good. A dark suit and tie accented his muscled body. Brown hair was cut short, and as always, he had the shadow of sexy stubble on his hard jaw. He shifted and she caught sight of the handgun holstered at his side.
“Remember, I’m working with you, not for you, Burke. My friend needs me. Silk Road almost killed her, and this exhibit doesn’t open for another week. I’ll be back, and we’ll be ready by then.”
The Dashwood would soon be showing an exhibit of previously unseen artifacts. One of which was shrouded in myth and legend. It was just the kind of artifact that Silk Road liked to acquire, AKA steal, and not care who they hurt and murdered in the process.
“Your brother can go.”
“He will, but so will I. Sloan is my friend.”
“Sloan McBride is a trained federal agent. How do you think you can help her?”
Darcy stepped forward, her boot heels clicking on the floor. Her toes brushed his shiny black shoes. “Because I’m smart. I don’t need to be a black belt in martial arts or wave a gun around to help my friend.”
Burke’s intense green eyes flashed. “It could be dangerous.”
“Duh, that’s why we’re going down to help her. That’s what friends do.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t you have any friends, Burke?”
He scowled at her but didn’t answer.
Footsteps. “I have Starbucks.”
Another suited agent entered, a smile on his face. He carried a tray of coffees.
Special Agent Thomas Singh looked from Darcy to Burke. “Looks like I’m just in time to stop you two from going a few rounds. Again.” He shoved a cup at Darcy. “A vanilla latte, extra shot.”
Darcy managed a smile. “You are a god. How the hell do you put up with Agent Scowly all day?”
Burke growled and the sound made Darcy feel pretty darn good. She sipped her latte and moaned. That was good, too.
When she looked up, Burke was staring at her, with a look in his eyes that made her muscles tense. Before she could process it, he swiveled and strode out.
And damn if the man didn’t look just as fine from the back as he did from the front. Such a waste.
“So, Thom, I’m headed to Florida for a few days.”
“For some sun and sand.”
She smiled. “No, for some gunfights and mayhem, probably.”
The agent sipped his own drink. “Have fun. See you when you get back.”
Diego pulled his Jeep up at the marina parking lot.
Sloan jumped out and slammed the door. “I can’t believe we haven’t got everything we need!”
“Threatening to arrest Bruno probably wasn’t the right move.”
Sloan scowled.
Diego gripped her shoulder. “I know you’re frustrated. I know you want to be back out there right now, but even if we had all the gear, by the time we got out there, it’d be too late to dive.
“At least we could keep Silk Road away from our site.”
“You and me against all of Silk Road. I think I’m flattered.”
Her nose wrinkled.
“We’re both tired after our fiasco last night, and let’s not forget that you almost suffocated.” Just saying the words made a muscle tick in his jaw. “Bruno will get
the gear here first thing in the morning. Then we’ll head back out.”
She huffed out a breath. “Fine.”
“We won’t let Silk Road win.”
“Right. Well, I’ll put together a late lunch for us.” With another frustrated breath, she headed into the galley.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she called over her shoulder. “The kitchen is not my area of expertise.”
Diego checked the ship and coordinated with the marina office for refueling. When he finally made it to the galley, a burnt smell assaulted his nose.
An even more frustrated Sloan was slamming around his galley.
“I ruined lunch.” She threw her hands in the air.
He struggled to hide his smile. “Well, you are stressed.”
She shook her head. “Actually, I burn everything. I’m a terrible cook.”
She looked dejected, and he knew it wasn’t really about the cooking. “I know you have other skills.” He went over to the fridge and pulled out some fresh shrimp, then grabbed a baguette from the cupboard. He grabbed two beers and popped the tops. He handed one to her.
“I do.” Sloan leaned against the counter, taking the beer. “I can shoot, I’m an excellent negotiator, and I’m really good at hand-to-hand combat.”
“All skills I look for in a woman.”
She faced him and raised a brow. “Oh? Don’t you want a sweet, lil’ thing who’ll cook your meals, and stay barefoot and pregnant?”
His gaze dropped to her long legs, heat curling in his gut. “No.” He set his beer down. “Don’t you want some sharp-jawed, suit-wearing, law-enforcement type?”
She stepped closer to him. “No.”
Diego grabbed her, trapping her against the counter. Her hands curled into his shirt, her mouth pressed to his jaw. He gripped her hips and boosted her onto the counter. Dios, her mouth. He needed it. He brought her lips to his and drank deep. The kiss had a hard, needy edge.
Her hands twisted in his T-shirt, then she tore it up over his head.
“I need you, Diego. I need hot, rough, and hard.”
He groaned. “Hell, yeah.”
He worked the buttons of her shirt loose and cupped her breasts through her bra. She leaned forward and bit his bottom lip, her legs clamping onto his hips.
Diego dropped his hands, tearing her shorts open. Then he ripped them and her panties off. He slid his hands between her thighs, stroking her. She moaned.
“You like that?” His voice was guttural. “You’re so wet for me, chiquita.”
“Yes.” Her hips undulated against his hand. “God, Diego.”
“I want you to come like this, on my fingers.” He pumped two inside her.
“Yes. Oh, like that.”
Diego felt her body tighten, her moans increasing. A second later, her thighs clenched, and she came with a cry. Watching her pleasure wash over her had vicious need clamping down on him.
He pulled her right to the edge of the counter. Her hands went to his shorts, fumbling with the zipper. He grabbed his wallet and yanked out a foil packet. His cock sprang free.
“Need to fuck you,” he growled, opening the condom and sliding it on.
“Do it,” she panted.
He notched the head of his cock against her warm folds, and a second later, he slammed inside her. “Finally.”
“Yes,” Sloan moaned.
Damn, she was tight, clasping him hard. She felt like heaven. “I’ve wanted you for months.”
Her lips parted, her gaze on his face. “Me, too.”
“Sloan—”
She wiggled against him. “Move, Torres.”
Still busting his balls. Dios, she was perfect. Diego did as ordered.
God, they fit. Perfectly.
Sloan held on tight as Diego powered inside her. She pressed her mouth to his throat, tasting his salty skin. He felt so good, so thick and hard. He filled her up.
She shifted her legs, gripping his sides. She pushed her hips up to meet his thrusts.
“Diego.”
“I love hearing you say my name like that, chiquita. Especially when I’m buried inside you.”
His mouth took hers and they strained against each other.
“Give it to me, Sloan. Let me hear you come.”
“God.” She writhed on the cool surface of the counter. Sensations poured through her and she slid her hands into his hair. She tugged hard and she knew he’d feel it.
Her orgasm hit her and she jerked, crying out his name.
Then he pulled out of her, his cock still rock-hard and glistening. She cried out in protest.
Before she could say anything, he scooped her up off the counter like she weighed nothing, and strode out of the galley.
“The next time, we come together,” he growled.
As he stepped out onto the deck, she didn’t even care that they were naked. He quickly carried her belowdecks, and before she knew it, they entered his shadowed cabin.
He dropped her on the bed and, before she moved, he gripped her and flipped her over.
“Diego.” Her voice was husky with excitement.
“On your knees.” He gripped her hips.
She rose and felt his big body behind her. Her heart pounded. She’d never had such intense, out-of-control sex before. She loved it.
One of his hands gripped her hair, pulling her head back. His mouth took hers, tongue sliding against hers.
And then his cock pushed inside her again. She moaned.
His other hand moved, cupping her hip, and then his body was moving. God, he was fucking her hard. His skin smacked against her ass.
“You feel so good, Sloan. So tight around my cock.”
Then his hand slid beneath her and stroked her swollen clit. No, she couldn’t possibly come again….
“Diego.” A strangled cry.
Sloan tipped over the edge, crying out his name again. Then Diego lodged deep inside her, stiffened, and growled as he came.
He collapsed forward, but shifted so they lay on their sides. He pulled her close, their sweaty skin sticking them together.
Sloan was just trying to breathe again. Diego’s lips touched her shoulder, and she shivered.
“We fit,” he murmured.
Chapter Six
Sloan woke to lips moving down her body.
She smiled in the morning sunshine, sliding her hand into Diego’s hair. Wowser. She’d just had the best night of her life. She’d never had that many orgasms all in a row, and she now knew that Diego had impressive stamina and was all kinds of creative.
She looked down at him and damn, he looked so sexy with all that sleek, brown skin and those slumberous eyes.
“Morning,” she murmured.
“Morning, chiquita.” He nipped at her belly and moved lower.
Oh, God. She pressed her head into the pillows, feeling the stroke of his fingers on her inner thigh. She knew what was coming next and she shivered. The man was very good with his mouth.
Then suddenly, he stiffened.
Sloan blinked, and that’s when she heard it…footsteps on the deck above.
Diego leaped up, moving quickly. He yanked on his denim shorts and grabbed his gun. Then he was gone.
“Wait.” Sloan jumped out of the bed. Where were her clothes? Dammit. They were strewn across the galley upstairs.
She needed to have Diego’s back. SEAL or no SEAL, she wasn’t leaving him to face whoever the hell was up there alone.
She ripped the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around her body. Then she rummaged through Diego’s drawer, from where he’d grabbed his handgun, and found a nice SIG Sauer. She snatched it up, checked it, and loaded it. She raced out of the cabin and headed up on deck.
Blinking against the bright sunshine, she frowned, her steps slowing. She could hear Diego speaking in Spanish. He spoke so fast she couldn’t keep up, but he sounded pissed.
SIG held up, she slowly rounded the wall and jerked to a halt.
> A small, round, dark-haired woman in her sixties stood on the deck, facing off with Diego. Beside her was a curvy, younger version of the woman, with a glorious sheet of dark hair.
Diego stood there, his bare back to Sloan, and his handgun held by his side.
The women noticed Sloan at the same moment, and dark eyes widened.
Shit. It took Sloan two seconds to see that the younger woman was a female version of Diego, and had to be his sister. Sloan lowered the SIG, fighting back a blush.
“Ay Dios mio,” the older woman breathed, her eyes glittering.
Diego looked back over his shoulder. The anger drained out of him, and his lips twitched.
“Ah, hello,” Sloan said.
“Hello, I’m Maria.” The older woman bustled forward. “I’m Diego’s mama, and this is his sister, Teresa.”
The younger woman had a huge smile on her face. She waggled her fingers at Sloan.
“Nice to meet you both.” While I’m dressed in a sheet, holding a gun, and having just spent the night doing naughty, dirty things with your son. “I’m Sloan. Sloan McBride.”
“And you’re single, Sloan?” Mrs. Torres said. “Do you work? Go to church?”
“Ah—” The rapid-fire questions made Sloan look at Diego, trying to tell him with her eyes to help her.
But he was smiling down at the deck, his hands on his hips.
Bastard. “I’m an agent with the DEA.”
Maria Torres’ eyes went wide. “Oh. Well, a government job is good. Good benefits and stability.”
“And Diego needs a badass woman, Mama,” Teresa said.
Oh, God. “Diego is helping me with a job. Some diving and salvage.” She looked at him again, rolling her eyes. Help me.
“Mama, we need to get to work,” Diego said. “Here’s Bruno now with the dive equipment we’ve been waiting for.”
Sloan turned her head and spotted the bald-headed Bruno, and another man, hauling tanks across the dock walkways.
She cleared her throat. “Well, it was nice to meet you.”
More Spanish spilled out of Mrs. Torres. She gestured at Diego.
He let out a breath. “Okay, okay, Ma. Now go.”
“Bye, Sloan.” Mrs. Torres’ smile was wide. She grabbed Teresa’s arm, and the two women waved as they headed down the ramp.
