Eye of the Storm Page 9

  "What?" His breath whispered over her ear.

  She clued him in on the situation in a low tone. "They are Trujo's men. The creep sent over a drink. I refused it. They came over. Tall guy announced Trujo wanted me to have lunch with him. He can't know who I am, can he?"

  His gaze switched to her, gentling as he scanned her face. "No." He paused, thought some more, then swore viciously under his breath. "No—how could he?" His head jerked up and turned toward the main pool dining area. She knew he looked for his enemy.

  "That's what I thought." She rested her head on his chest. His heart pounded loudly. Inhaling, she luxuriated in his scent; it calmed her just as it had for the last three days. She nuzzled the opening of his shirt at his throat, then touched the tip of her tongue to his sweaty skin. Spicy and lemony all at once. She liked it. His taste, like his smell, steadied her.

  His hand moved from her waist to press her face into his chest, his fingers threaded through her curls. It was a blatant act of possession. He spoke to the two thugs over her head. "Who dared approach my woman?"

  The way he said "my woman" should have struck every stubborn, independent nerve in her as wrong, but instead it thrilled her. He'd claimed her, even if it was just for show and her protection.

  And, God knew, she felt safe, even with two dangerous, armed thugs behind her.

  "What's going on, Ren?" Vanko's voice was a welcome addition to the tableaux. Now there were two against two.

  "Keely? Did those bastards touch you?" Her beloved brother's voice added to the mix.

  Teresa must have called the suite when she saw the danger. Bless her heart.

  Keely turned within the circle of Ren's embrace, her back against his chest, her butt against his groin. They fit perfectly. She shook off the incongruous thought, time enough for that later, now she had to concentrate on the current tense situation.

  The man at whom she'd thrown the knife glared at her, but his anger was icy and under control. This was a man who could wait for revenge. Cold vengeance was the worst kind; you never knew when the avenger would turn up. She shivered.

  Ren rubbed her arm, his chin resting on the top of her head. "Keely, you okay?" He placed a small kiss just below her ear. Goose bumps raised on her arms.

  "Now I am. Just a little chilled."

  "Vanko, give me your jacket." Ren took the proffered jacket and placed it around her shoulders, then pulled her back against him.

  The bleeding thug's frigid gaze was fixed only on her. His complete disregard for the three men ranged around her confirmed he was the more dangerous of the two and that she had made a bitter enemy. "This is the novio you told us about?"

  Despite the added warmth of Vanko's jacket and the security of Ren's arms, she shuddered at the evil look the taller man shot her. "Yes." Her voice was soft, hesitant, then she coughed and said more firmly, "Yes. This is my novio." She refused to show fear to this man. He'd jump on it, use it against her.

  Ren's arm tightened and he brushed a kiss on the top of her curls. "Easy. I've got your back."

  "I will tell Senor Trujo. We are sorry for frightening you, poco gata. We will leave now." He gestured to his companion, who rubbed his sore groin and shot a dagger-like glance at her.

  The asshole had called her "little cat" which in colloquial Spanish equated to "little bitch"—as in prostitute. Ren stiffened, then cursed at the insult to her, showing he knew his gutter Spanish as well as she did. His anger was obvious in the viciousness of his swear words.

  "I don't think so." Ren's voice halted the two men's departure. "I want to meet your boss, personally. Take me to him now. His invitation and your threatening actions and verbal insult to my fiancée are inexcusable."

  "No!" She wiggled and turned within his arms, her hands flat on his chest. His heart thudded under her touch. She could almost smell the adrenaline changing his scent. His body was gearing up for a fight. "I'm…fine. I…am…fine. Let it go, please? For me?" She added in a low tone. "For now."

  He bristled. A muscle in his jaw twitched. A low rumble sounded in his chest, akin to a large predatory cat's angry growl. She stroked his pecs, attempting to soothe him, pressing small kisses over his shirt. He obviously wanted to meet with Trujo, taking only Vanko and Tweeter along. She had to convince him of what a bad idea that would be—she had intel they needed to see before any meeting took place. They'd be outnumbered, outgunned. Trujo's estate was an armed camp. She couldn't let them go without proper planning—and more backup.

  "Keely. Baby." Ren's voice pleaded. He took one of her hands and brought it to his lips to kiss. He stopped then frowned as he fingered a new red mark on her arm where the tall goon had grabbed her. He swore again, casting a fulminating glance at the man closely observing them. Then he looked back to her, his eyes narrowed, smoky grey-blue in their anger. "You fucking had to defend yourself. So hell yeah, I want a meet with the fucker. The other stuff is just side bennies."

  The fact he wanted to meet Trujo more on her behalf than on his own terrified her even worse. Still, all her reasons to delay the meet were valid. "I was scared. I over-reacted. Please?" She buried her face in his chest, tears wetting his silk shirt. "Please." She stroked him with her free hand.

  "Keely…sweetheart…it's okay. God, stop crying." Ren swung her into his arms, then addressed Trujo's men over her head. "Don't ever let me see either of you even look at my woman again. I won't be so forgiving next time."

  Keely peered through water-logged lashes. The taller man nodded, then pulled the other man with him. Vanko closed the draperies, shutting out interested onlookers. Tweeter stood next to them, a concerned glance on her.

  "Keely, stop crying. You're killing me here." Ren rubbed his cheek against her hair.

  She sniffed. "Sorry. I'm hungry—and still tired—and I wanted to pretend just for a while I was a tourist—and they ruined my lunch." She all but wailed the last part of her sentence.

  "Senorita? I have your lunch all packed for you."

  Keely raised her head. Teresa had entered the cabana and wiggled her way past Vanko. She held a large bag. A luscious cooked-meat smell filled the tent-like structure. "Thank you for calling the guys. Those men would've tried to take me away."

  Teresa smiled. "Senor Trujo, he run like the scared little boy when he sees your novio come running. Trujo is an evil man. It is bad you attracted his notice."

  Ren squeezed her more tightly against him. "Thank you, Teresa. You've been a big help. My fiancée will be flying home to the States tomorrow with her brother, so Trujo will not have a chance to approach her again."

  "I'm not leaving—" she stopped when Ren sealed her lips with a kiss. A hungry, tongue-thrusting kiss unlike any she'd ever had. This was so not brotherly. Just as she was getting used to his tongue, touching it tentatively with her own, he stopped.

  He leaned his forehead against hers and breathed heavily. "That was out of line, sprite. I apologize."

  "Ren!" She tried to pull his mouth back against hers.

  "No, now isn't the time." He turned with her still in his arms and strode to the cabana opening. His gaze took in the pool area and all the interested looks turned their way. "At least you had the sense to get a private table. The men in this place would love nothing better than to eat you with a spoon."

  She pinched his tanned, hairy arm. "Watch it, big guy! I had every reason to think I should be safe in public in a goddamn Sheraton!"

  "Shh, you're right." He kissed her cheek. A brotherly peck this time—damn him. "I'm sorry. When we got Teresa's call, we'd just read your note and were coming to join you for lunch. We'd reached the same conclusion. You should've been safe."

  An apology? From the look on her brother's face this wasn't usual behavior for Ren. And from her vast experience in dealing with the alpha males in her family, a lecture and the laying down of the rules were the normal responses when she'd frightened them. Lectures and rules without apologies only came when the ones delivering th
em knew you'd still love them even when they were being dominant know-it-alls. She'd gotten both from Ren, which could only mean he must not want her ticked off at him. She smiled.

  "Which was obviously wrong on all our parts." Tweeter paced them on the right with Vanko on the left.

  "Are you all armed?" she asked in a hushed tone. "Those guys had Beretta semi-automatics under their jackets."

  "We're armed. We can handle anything those two might dish out." Ren glanced down at her as they entered the elevator. Vanko and Tweeter followed with her brother carding them for the top floor. "What did you throw at the big goon? Your knife is still upstairs."

  "A steak knife. It was very sharp and had decent balance."

  Ren and Vanko laughed as Tweeter said, "Way to go, Imp."

  "And the smaller one? What did you do to him?" Ren idly stroked her cheek.

  "I shoved the table into his ugly dick." She threw an irate glance at the three of them. "The bastard had a hard-on the size of Baja. Pervert."

  "I'm so proud. Dad will be too." Tweeter felt her forehead with the back of his hand. "You got another fever?"

  She let go of Ren's shoulder and felt her forehead, then sighed. "Probably. Too much excitement for my first day out of bed. Probably also why I cried all over Ren. I never cry unless I'm tired…or hungry…or low on caffeine." She stopped talking when Ren chuckled. She'd never heard that exact sound from him before. It sounded like amused affection. "Um, yeah, fever…I have an antibiotic capsule in my purse. I was going to take it with lunch." She looked around suspiciously. "Who has my lunch?"

  Vanko grinned and held up the bag Teresa had made. "It's here, Keelulya. I promise not to eat it."

  "You'd better not. I'm starving."

  They exited the elevator and approached their suite. Tweeter opened the door and went in to clear the place. Vanko had drawn his gun and watched the hallway while Ren held her closely as if he wanted to absorb her into his body. It seemed like hours before her brother stuck his head out and said, "All clear."

  Ren sat her in a chair at the dining room table. Vanko placed the bag with her lunch in front of her.

  "Pepsi, sis?" Tweeter called out from the bar.

  "Yes, please." She opened the bag and found the container with the burger. Opening it, she took a bite and started to chew. "Yuummm."

  Ren laughed at her. He sat next to her, his thigh touching hers. "I'm hungry, too. Can I have a bite?"

  Was he teasing her? If he was, it was irresistible. She held her burger up for him. He leaned in closely and his mouth descended, first taking a nip of the tip of a one of her fingers then a bite of the burger from the spot she'd torn into.

  "Good—to both bites," he murmured, licking his lips. His smiling gaze captured hers and held her prisoner.

  Tweeter put the Pepsi on the table, breaking the intense connection. "Who wants to order from room service?"

  Vanko said, "No need. Teresa is bringing up several of the burgers and some other dishes she thought we big strong men would like."

  "She's nice—don't take advantage of her." Keely eyed Vanko and Tweeter—and then Ren. She wanted to make it clear the Argentinian girl was off-limits. Teresa was too innocent for the likes of these warriors. Vanko was a lady killer. Her brother, all her brothers, had a similar reputation. As for Ren, his files at the FBI and CIA and all his military records classified him as practically a monk. He was acting against type in his recent assiduous care of her, and she found it hard to believe that she was woman enough to change his lifelong relationship patterns.

  But as with any statistical pattern, there were always outliers. Outliers were unpredictable and never followed the rules.

  "She is a nice girl," Vanko said. "But she is just that—a girl. I am like a big brother."

  "Uh-huh, pull the other one," she said around a bit of beef, "she thinks you're a hunk."

  Vanko laughed. "I am flattered. What do you think, Keelulya?"

  "She doesn't think of you at all." Ren grabbed her hand and brought her burger back to his mouth, taking another bite.

  "Stop eating my food." She snatched her hand back. "Or…or…I'll eat some of yours."

  "You can eat anything of mine you'd like." He winked at her.

  She choked, coughed, then blushed, quickly taking a sip of Pepsi. She'd have to reread his files, maybe she'd missed something about him being a rogue—either that or he was the statistic that disproved the numbers.

  Tweeter slapped Ren on the back of the head, hard enough for Ren's head to jerk forward. "Stop talking dirty to my sister."

  "She knows what I meant." Ren looked at her and smiled. "Isn't that right, Keely?"

  Oh yeah, he was definitely flirting. Her gaze inadvertently drifted to the front of his lightweight trousers. His package made Trujo's goon's Baja-sized bulge look dinky. She licked suddenly dry lips and reached again for her soft drink.

  "Imp, I'm telling Dad and all the brothers. Stop looking at Ren as if he were Christmas, Easter and your frigging birthday all rolled into one."

  She looked at her brother and stuck her tongue out.

  All he did was laugh and say, "Now that's mature."

  Chapter 6

  REN kept an eye on Keely as the four of them finished their lunches. She put up a good front, but her recent experiences had taken a toll on her, physically and emotionally. She could protest all she wanted—he wanted her out of South America and safely ensconced at the Sanctuary compound. He expected his brother Trey and another SSI operative—Price Teague—to fly the SSI jet into Puerto Iguazu later in the afternoon. After the plane was refueled, Tweeter could fly his sister back to the States.

  "You're staring," Keely said.

  "You're tired," he countered.

  She shrugged. "Maybe, but that's not getting you off the hook for thinking you can just pack me up and send me away like a helpless little girl. I'm a woman—an adult—and I can make decisions for myself."

  "Not this time." He stroked a particularly persistent curl out of her eye.

  "You…are not…my boss." She pointed her finger at him. "I don't even let my brothers dictate to me anymore."

  "Anh." Tweeter drew everyone's attention. "That's not so. You let us dictate in times of danger—and this qualifies. Trujo's men tried to abduct you in broad daylight, sis."

  "Did it look like I was being abducted?" She narrowed her eyes and swept them all with a withering glance. "Well?"

  "No, Keelulya," Vanko said, "but I read the report you made of your other abduction. Ren, he is worried, and wants you safely at Sanctuary where our people can watch over you while we go after Trujo."

  "There's a spy in Sanctuary who works for the blasted traitor at DoD. I blew the whistle on all the DoD bastard's lucrative and murderous sidelines, he can't continue his bad-ass actions without exposing himself. Now, he's gunning for me. He had me once already," Keely shuddered visibly. "I'm safer with all of you. I trust you…I don't know the people at Sanctuary."

  Her logic had Ren and the other two stumped for a second. Muttering several pithy comments on sprites-too-smart-for-their-britches, he tipped her stubborn little chin up so he could see her eyes. "Tweeter is going with you. You'll be staying in my house—with him—until I get there to take over—"

  "Your house?" she interrupted. "Why not Tweetie's place?"

  "Because."

  "Oh, well, that makes sense…not." Keely stabbed at a piece of fruit on her plate. He winced. He hoped the fruit hadn't been a stand-in for one of his body parts. "Okay, let's say I go back to Idaho with my brother and stay in your place," she waved the fork bearing a piece of mango around. "Who'll help you and Vanko go after Trujo? I showed you the layout over lunch. My estimates of his army are on the light side, but even low-balling the numbers, you'll be at a distinct disadvantage. Trujo has to be on high alert since you escaped his trap and are most likely out to get him."

  A loud knock on the door interrupted the answer he was
going to give. Vanko went to open the door. The voices were familiar and expected.

  Ren smiled. "My answer to your question just walked in the door. Meet my brother Trey and one of my other operatives, Price Teague."

  Keely stared at the two men, her eyes narrowed, examining them as if trying to assess their loyalties. He could have assured her that Trey and Price were above reproach, but she'd have to learn to accept his decisions on faith. He could explain every little detail of his plan to take out Trujo, but he didn't work that way.

  "Okay, I grant you—you now have four men, but you're still vastly outnumbered. My ability to strategize would be invaluable."

  "Probably, but it ain't happening." He refused to budge on the point. She was out of there later tonight—after she rested for a few hours.

  "Is the little gal afraid for us?" Price walked to the table and all but leered at Keely.

  Ren bristled. "Yeah, the little gal—Tweeter's baby sister—is worried. And she is off limits, Price. So back off." He noted he'd beaten Tweeter to the explanations and warning by a split second.

  Keely with a big smile on her face held out her hand and said, "Yeah, he's my novio, just ask him. Very bossy, too. So back off." She winked at Price, who laughed and took her hand gently in his and kissed the tips of her fingers.

  Ren reclaimed Keely's hand, hauling her and her chair even closer to him. "Watch out, Keely. Price is a ladies’ man. There isn't an eligible female in the whole of Idaho County that hasn't been approached by him." He added under his breath, "And bedded."

  "Well, since there are less than point three people per square mile in the whole of Idaho County, and most of them male, that isn't saying much, brother." Trey came over and took Keely's hand. "Pleased to meet you, Keely. Quinn told me about your call. I tried to get back in touch with you, but couldn't. I called your dad then."

  "Holy crap," muttered Keely.

  "Why crap?" Ren looked from her to her brother. "Tweeter called him when we got to the hotel room while you were sick, baby."