Her head snapped up as her eyes glittered in protest.
"Wouldn't you consider that a mistake?" She questioned him with an undertone of the commanding force he knew she was capable of.
"No, I consider you being at that meeting very ill-advised. As my lover, your influential position in American society as well as your recognizable name would be a hazard."
Her lips tightened.
"Why didn't you come in disguise?" he asked her. "Why risk yourself like this?"
"You're not in disguise," she finally answered, her voice low. "We do this together, as who and what we are, Ian. And I don't ever want to hear another name from your lips while you're taking me. No matter the circumstances."
Damn her. He hadn't expected that, and he hadn't expected the sharp tug of response that pulled at his chest either.
"Not using a disguise was stupid." Anger built inside him. Dammit, he hadn't had a problem with control, with the things he had to do, until her. Now, the anger was rising inside him, making him a danger to her if he didn't find a way to contain and control it. "Do you have any idea the risk to yourself and your reputation?"
"Temporary." She waved it away. "When it's over both our reputations will recover."
Irritation flashed through him, emotion wore at his control. She was too confident, too certain of her abilities. It terrified him.
It made him hard.
He stared at her for long moments, trying to understand the effect she had on him, the strength he saw in her. What could have produced a woman so incredibly feminine and yet so strong? In all the years he had come into contact with her she had been protecting rather than protected, and despite her uncle's insistence on a bodyguard, she was fully capable of defending herself.
She made him crazy, and he was smart enough to know that part of the craziness was based on the fact that he was at heart as chauvinistic as they came. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to shield her. And she was having nothing to do with it. It was playing hell on his control and drawing him close enough to her that he could feel the risk to his own soul.
If something happened to her— He cut the thought, pushed it away and turned quickly from her.
"Let's go. Diego is waiting downstairs for us and then we have to head for that meeting."
No emotion, he reminded himself. If he kept his emotions buried then he could watch her enter the life he was forced to live and hopefully survive it.
Hell. Who the fuck was he kidding? She was shredding his control to the point that the night before he had allowed himself to be drawn into a confrontation with Diego and now he was bending Kira over a damned chair and taking her like an out-of-control bastard.
Hell, he hadn't even kissed her first.
As he escorted her from the room, something had him allowing her to move abreast of him, his hand lying naturally at the small of her back. Just to touch her. Guilt was eating him alive, curling in his gut and burning in his chest.
The memory of her bent over that chair, taking him, taking the mix of arousal, jealous anger, and furious concern she caused in him, had his teeth clenching again. He was going to end up wearing his molars down within days because gritting his teeth was the only option at this point.
He couldn't have her kidnapped and held for her own safety. He'd already broached that option with his boss at DHS during his latest secured contact. She was there to stay, he had been informed. Whether or not he put her covert talents to work was up to him, but he couldn't have her taken out of the game, and he couldn't force her out of it.
She was determined to be a part of this and he still couldn't figure out why. Unless she was working with Durango team.
They moved down the steps and headed through the foyer to the breakfast room. He was taking his lover to meet the monster he called his father and he was supposed to do it with a measure of control. He wasn't supposed to be gritting his teeth in arousal and irritation and fighting a hard-on he shouldn't have because his lover was the most self-assured, psychologically strong woman he had ever known in his entire misbegotten life.
As they neared the breakfast room, the houseman opened the double doors, standing back expressionlessly as Ian escorted Kira into the room.
He forced himself to relax, though his hand slid caressingly over Kira's hip, clenching on the curve in regret at the necessity of releasing her and a second later praying Diego hadn't noticed.
"Ian! My son." Diego came to his feet as they stepped into the room, a wide smile creasing his swarthy face, his black eyes gleeful as Ian pulled a chair out for Kira at the small glass-topped table before taking his own across from Diego.
"Good morning, Diego," he greeted the other man as he waved the timid maid forward to pour their coffee.
All the household help had been changed, but the rumors about Liss's death had made its rounds. They were all silent, wary.
"You did not properly introduce me to our guest, Ian." Discomfort colored Diego's voice, and sweet merciful Jesus, hurt feelings. A monster with feelings that could be hurt. That oxymoron was terrifying.
"Excuse me, Diego." He forced a sheepish smile to his face. "I find myself a bit nervous."
"Nervous, Ian?" Diego blinked back at him in surprise, his gaze softening as he swallowed the impression of Ian's discomfort.
Kira sat back in her chair and smirked as though she were enjoying the sight of Ian's discomfort.
"Kira." Ian cleared his throat. "Allow me to introduce my father." The word tore through his soul with a lash of fury so potent it nearly strangled him as Diego's eyes seemed to dampen. "Diego Fuentes. Diego, Miss Kira Porter."
"Ms. Porter." Pleasure transformed Diego's expression, rippling over it with a tight, hard spasm as he reached for Kira's hand. "It is a pleasure to know my son has managed to capture the interest of such a discriminating and beautiful young woman."
"Mr. Fuentes, I can see where Ian has come by his charm." Kira allowed Diego to hold her hand for only the briefest second before sliding it free and tucking it into her lap.
She stared back at the drug lord with a hint of reserve and wariness. There was no open friendliness. She wasn't hiding the fact that she was very well aware of who and what he was.
"Ah, she is a smart one as well, eh, my son?" Diego grinned as though he were a proud parent. It was enough to make a SEAL's spine crawl in horror.
"She is at that, Diego." He nodded to Kira as though in indulged amusement.
Diego took his chair once again, waved the maid to his coffee cup, and waited until she filled his cup.
"What would you like for breakfast, my dear?" Diego asked her. "We have a nice selection of fruits. Though our Ian does prefer his protein." He waved his hand to the buffet that sat along the wall.
"I like a bit of each." Kira eyed the buffet with hungry longing. "It's a good thing I have a high metabolism." Mocking amusement lit her expression and her eyes as she nodded to the maid who waited patiently. "The eggs, bacon, and one of those luscious-looking biscuits. I'll tackle the fruit after."
Diego's brows lifted at her request, even as she brought the strong, unsweetened coffee to her lips and sipped at it with enjoyment.
"Ah, a woman with an appetite," Diego murmured. "I believe the American magazine Society described you as 'today's woman.' One whose appetites clearly express the hungers of the modern woman."
Ian had read that article, and laughed. The society image was definitely not the true Kira Porter.
"Society insisted on discussing my eating habits rather than the topic we agreed to discuss: the charity work my uncle and myself were doing at that time."
Diego chuckled. "The editor claimed you were doing more to destroy the image of the glamorous socialite than those who had gone before you had done to uphold it. I thought it was clearly the mark of an intelligent, strong woman." Diego sat back in his chair at that point. "I believe the interview also touched upon drug use. Your stand on drugs was exceptionally strong. Your comments that those who trade
in the death and misery of the world should be drawn, quartered, and left for the maggots to feed upon." His voice remained warm, encouraging, his gaze curious.
"Diego," Ian said warningly. "Not exactly appetizing conversation for breakfast."
Diego's nostrils flared at the rebuke. "I would know why a woman with such views would lower herself to sleep with not just a drug cartel leader, but also a deserter. Tell me, Ms. Porter, why would you risk your reputation and your safety by sleeping with my son?"
"Mr. Fuentes, what Society didn't mention is that I am a woman. I choose who I care for. Not convention." She leaned forward, cutting Ian off before he could tear into his father. He paused, leaned back in his chair, and watched Kira instead.
Her expression was revealing now. This was the woman. His woman. That expression caused his erection to jerk in his slacks, the broad head to throb painfully now.
"You do not say?" Diego questioned curiously.
"But I do say." She sat back in her chair once again and flashed Ian a look shimmering with hunger. Damn her. She picked a hell of a time to give him that look. To allow him to glimpse the emotions she kept mostly hidden.
"Finish your breakfast then we're leaving." His voice was harsh. He heard it, and he didn't regret it. He turned to Diego. "Do you understand the concept 'mine'?"
"Ian, this isn't necessary," Kira protested with a hint of amusement. "I'm certain your father understands we all have our little kinks."
His gaze flashed to her, the anger rising, burning, threatening his control. He turned back to Diego.
"Did you understand my question?"
Diego nodded slowly. "Yes, Ian. I understand. I will question her no further." There was a warning in his voice as well. "I understand that we must protect what belongs to us."
Ian rose from his chair, breakfast forgotten, coffee forgotten. His eyes locked with Diego's as he reached out his hand to Kira.
She was there instantly, her fingers twining with his, allowing him to pull her from her chair, to his side.
"We've wasted too much time," he said tightly. "We'll stop on the way and get you a snack."
"Protein?" she asked, her voice lower, hinting toward suggestive.
Ian couldn't damned well help it. His gaze almost jerked from Diego's in surprise and his cock definitely became highly interested.
"Definitely protein." He stared back at Diego, watching the other man's expression, the gleam of amusement in his black eyes, the way he relaxed, the aura of death sliding beneath the charm once again.
"We'll talk later tonight," he warned Diego quietly. "I promise you that."
He drew Kira from the room and met up with Deke and the others in the foyer.
"Deke, we need to swing around Palm Beach for coffee and breakfast to go for Kira. Duetch Veronick should work."
"Duetch Veronick." Deke nodded his dark head. "Gotcha, boss."
Ian looked down at her as he escorted her from the villa. Damn her. Kira had to have known what her little innuendo would do to him. Just as Diego was learning there truly were certain ways to work him. Both of them were going to find out, he knew how to work back.
As they stepped from the wide sheltered porch of the villa Ian handed Kira into the limousine before following her into the cool, leather interior.
She slid into the backward-facing seat, settling into the leather and crossing her legs gracefully as she laid her slender clutch beside her. Taking his seat opposite her, Ian stared back at her silently while Mendez closed the door behind them and the vehicle began to move out.
Ian laid his finger on the window control between the two seats, still staring at Kira as the blackened window glass rose between the two sections.
"That look in your eye could almost be arousing, if it weren't so calculating," she drawled, an accent flavoring her voice with a hint of Georgia nights and Southern Belle charm. "What are you thinking, Ian?" Her hands lay relaxed against her legs and her head was tilted to the side as she watched him thoughtfully.
"Drug deals. Arm deals. Blood and death." He smiled mockingly. "What else does a cartel owner think about?"
She licked her tongue over her already glistening lips and her gaze flickered before coming back to him questioningly.
"The vehicle is secure," he told her. "There are no listening devices. We're safe."
"How can you be sure? You didn't check the car when we got in."
Ian sighed before pushing his hand into his pocket and pulling the slender electronic detector from his pants. He flashed it to her before pushing it back.
It was the size of a cell phone, but the electronics it contained were sensitive to a variety of receivers.
She breathed out in regret. "You're not going to let me see that one either, are you?"
"It's an experimental model." He grinned. "But I'm open to negotiations. Answer some questions for me and I'll let you play with my toys."
He watched realization glimmer in her eyes a second before she shrugged her delicate shoulders. "I'll check it out when this is over. Uncle Jason will likely get me one for Christmas."
Ian nodded slowly. "How long has Jason been covert?"
"I didn't say Jason was covert." Her hands tightened in her lap.
"No more than you told me that Durango team was in Aruba." He leaned forward slowly, his voice turning to ice as he glowered back at her. "You were discussing them with Daniel this morning. You were discussing the fact that he would be sent away and his knowledge that Durango team was here."
Surprise and nervousness flickered over her expression then.
"I have the balcony bugged." He leaned back in his seat. "I checked the recording while you were in the shower."
"Then you know I have no knowledge of the team being here."
"But you know Daniel. And he does know where they are. So the first question is, where would Daniel set them up and how would he help them?"
Silence filled the back of the limo. Their gazes clashed, tension exploding in the back of the limo as they battled in a silent war Ian was determined to win.
"Why does it matter, Ian?" she finally asked him. "If they're here, they havent disobeyed direct orders not to strike against you. They haven't struck. Maybe they've figured out you're not the loving son you've tried to appear to be, and they're here to help you."
"And do you think I need their damned help?"
If she had thought about his possible response to knowing his former team lay in wait to help him, then Kira knew she would not have expected the fury that burned in his eyes or the hard hand that wrapped around the back of her neck and pulled her nose to nose with him as he came forward once again.
"You will contact Daniel," he told her icily, his voice harsh, his expression forbidding. "And you will tell him to give Reno a message for me. Reno only. You tell Daniel to tell him, 'Killer Secrets.' He'll know what it means, Kira. And you tell Daniel to warn him, I mean every word of it."
Killer Secrets. There were too many personal threads, too many enemies posing as friends, and no way to sort the differences before striking. It meant he was working alone, period, and the situation was too volatile for interference.
Kira stilled. Nathan Malone had mentioned that codeword the month before when she questioned him in the hospital. The threads leading into and out of this operation could get them all killed, and Ian wasn't sharing information. Whether it was because he couldn't share, or wouldn't, she could only guess.
"Did they tell you what that means?" Ian released her slowly, sitting back in his seat with a deliberate relaxing of his body that didn't fool her in the least.
"What?" she asked though she knew what he meant. What he meant wasn't nearly as important to her as what she was seeing in him right now.
Cold, hard purpose. There was none of the arousal, none of the hunger or the need she had glimpsed in him to this point. This wasn't the playful lieutenant who had identified her during the ops where they had connected. He wasn't the frustrated lover trying to p
rotect her. This was the SEAL. And he was determined that nothing would stand in the way of taking Sorrell's and Diego's heads back to the man he called brother.
"Did the team tell you what that code word means?" He didn't blink, his eyes didn't burn. They chilled her to the bone.
"They told me," she admitted, wondering if she was hurting or harming her cause with the admission.
Emotion flickered in the back of his eyes then.
"And you came anyway?" His lips flattened with the first sign of emotion. Anger sparked in his gaze. "Have you lost your fucking mind, Kira?"
Had she? No, he was just that important to her. And when exactly he had become that important to her she wasn't really certain.
"Would you leave me in this battle alone?" she asked him instead. "If you stumbled into this situation and learned the danger I was in, would you walk away from me, Ian?"
"That's different." More emotion. A tinge of stubborn determination and a flash of latent hunger.
"How's that different?" She leaned forward, her chest tightening with emotions she was still trying to make sense of. "How's it different that you couldn't walk away from me, but you expect me to walk away from you?"
"You're a woman." He cleared his throat then grimaced at the unconscious flash of nervousness he would have known she saw in that action. "You don't desert a woman in trouble."
"But I wouldn't believe I was in trouble," she told him. "I'm a trained agent. I would believe I was handling it fine myself. That I didn't need you to protect me. Why would you want to stick your nose into it?"
And why did she need him to admit that he cared more for her than he would any other female agent that his male chauvinism would insist he help? She was the fool he called her if she needed that. Because Ian Fuentes wasn't a man who let himself get involved emotionally with many people. She knew he loved his mother. He respected his stepfather, and he had sworn his life to Nathan Malone after the preteen Nathan had been instrumental in saving Ian's mother's life.
From what she had learned, Ian had a team bond with the other SEALs of the group he had fought with. He respected them, he would have died for them. And he protected them, as he was protecting them now.