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  He didn’t turn around when he answered. “In a hurry to get me back in the sack?”

  “Okay, fine.” She smirked a little when her gaze skimmed over his fine rear, which at the moment was bare as sin. His smile was wonderfully indecent as he came to the bed and handed her a glass of the ruby-red drink. To her great disappointment, her head managed to take charge of her palpitating heart.

  Tomorrow at this time, you will be separated from Jack Gunnison and you will both be in FBI custody, being debriefed, spilling your guts. Then you’ll be shoved on into preparation for the next mission.

  “Hell, Donavon.” Gun grinned at her and held a forkful of cake to her mouth. “Time to celebrate and think about getting out of this roach motel.” He kissed her lips and licked the extra icing from them. “I have six weeks of vacation, and South Beach, Florida, sure sounds good right now.”

  Like some naked god out of a fanciful tale, he sat on the bed beside her, unconcerned his dick lay against his thigh, looking fat and healthy.

  He was thinking of sunning himself? In South Beach? To cover her dark thoughts, she tipped her glass up and drank deeply of the wine. “Home sounds damned good to me.” Jealousy over unseen competition gnawed at her stomach.

  He laughed his most irritating macho laugh. “Yeah, home with your horny cousin and the alligators.”

  She yanked the cake plate from his hands. “It wouldn’t hurt you to see how your family is, Mr. Wiseass.” After stuffing a huge bite into her mouth, she added. “You’re not going to get the chance to use that vacation time, and you know it.”

  “Yeah, I know that.” He filled their glasses again with the fragrant drink and handed one to her. “When are you going to give up all this luxury, Donavon?” He grinned at her look of surprise.

  “As soon as I make director. Or get an appointment to the White House.”

  He lay on his side, gazing into her eyes. “You won’t like that. Too tied down.” He took a sip and pressed his mouth to hers. Unable to stop herself, she let the sangria trickle into her mouth while he kissed her, lapping the sweetness from her lips and tongue.

  “Oh, Lord, Gun, you’re such a bastard.” The statement wasn’t meant to upset him, just an expression of her feelings for him. He smiled and tipped the chocolate-sauce container to dribble some of the warm syrup on her breast.

  “Let me show you how many ways there are to enjoy this.”

  The desire to grab him by the ears and suction his mouth to her nipple while he licked around it grew to mega power. She wiggled her hips and whispered roughly to him.

  “Gun, you ...” She didn’t want to sound weak, but she was. “You’re so damn talented.”

  “Wait.” He spoke around her nipple. “There’s more.”

  “More?” she murmured. “I won’t be able to handle more.”

  He looked at her and grinned. “Want to talk after we finish?” He spilled a few drops of luscious syrup onto her belly, leaning over to suck from the small well of her belly button. Whatever he did with the chocolate sauce he now held over her belly would be just fine with her.

  “That would be different, but I don’t think I’ll be able to talk.” She couldn’t form coherent sentences any longer, not while he poured a stream of sweet, warm chocolate sauce between her legs. She wanted to let go and faint dead while he licked every drop from her swollen folds. “Gun, you wonderful bad boy.”

  The rest of her praise was silent while he tongued and nibbled her to the brink of orgasm. She arched her back to catch the full thrust of his tongue, relaxing to allow him full access to the sensitive flesh along her inner thigh. His thumbs opened her, and he pressed his tongue flat against her clit, alternating gentle nips and sucking to wear down any resistance she held on to. She caught his hair in her fingers and twisted, locking her knees to his shoulders and crying out for him to hurry. He moved back up to lie over her. She was glad she’d held back, kissing his scarred chest, his broad shoulders, tasting his special scent of eastern flowers and dark woodland, imbedding it in her brain.

  The way his mouth tasted and fused perfectly with hers would be her secret for the rest of her miserable life. She’d want to die, but she wouldn’t. She would be somewhere else, be with someone else then.

  Right now, Gun was with her, covering her like a blanket of extreme intimacy and pleasure. She couldn’t, nor did she want to, see any further than the moment. Hold him, touch him, need him. That’s all that mattered.

  “Donavon, my hands are full. You want to help me out?”

  She bit his lip before sliding her hand between them to grip his cock. “I don’t mind showing you how to use this nightstick.”

  He laughed and caught her butt in his hands, pushing into her until she gasped and bit his lip again. “Teach me, baby.”

  His hard chest against her breasts pressed into her like a warm hand, massaging and teasing her nipples until they ached for his mouth. She centered her thoughts on the strength and size of his thighs and hard, defined shape of his ass. A glorious man with a glorious libido.

  Denying herself the hot flash of pleasure wasn’t going to hold much longer. He knew how to move inside her, pull away a bit, then slowly slide back against her sensitive clit and grind firmly against her, slipping his tongue deep into her mouth to tease her tongue and pulsing lips. His low moan stroked her body and created a spark of fire that coursed over her and flared in a tower of flames at the fork of her legs.

  She tried to sit up, clawing his shoulders and wrapping her legs around his waist, screaming. She had to ... the pressure in her body would kill her if she didn’t. That wild noise still circled the room when he climaxed, his arms squeezing her so tight she couldn’t move. She loved his moan that sounded as if he had paid dearly for his fun.

  He dropped down to rest on her for a few seconds before rolling off to groan like a satisfied lion. Instead of passing out as she expected, Gun stroked her belly. Damn, he was still full of play.

  “Hey, don’t go to sleep.”

  “Go away, you devil. I’m too tired to talk or anything else.”

  Gun hauled her up to lean against the stack of pillows. “I promised after sex, talk, and we’re going to talk.”

  “I’ve had all of you I want for now.”

  He laughed and nuzzled her breast. “If I’d said that, you would be mad as a wet hen.” He exhaled roughly and lay down beside her. “I’m tired, too. Want me to turn the lights off?”

  “Um-hum. Just let me close my eyes for a few minutes.”

  “Go ahead, baby. Gun’s here to watch over you.”

  “What time are we leaving?” At that moment, she didn’t really care.

  “Early.”

  “Okay. I’ll be ready.”

  He poured a small amount of wine in her glass and held it to her lips. “Have another drink, Donavon.”

  She opened her eyes and smiled at him, thinking how beautiful he was, how thoughtful. “This is so sweet of you.”

  “Anything for my woman.” He licked a drop of wine from her lips and set the empty glass on the nightstand. “Donavon, have you got the alternative plan down pat?”

  Okay, he was making no sense now. Alternative plan? He was messing with her head again. “No, you horse’s ass. There is no alternative plan.” If she could have raised her arm, she would slug him. Where were her arms?

  “Listen, this is serious.” He caught her close when she tried to sit up. “If things blow up, go to the military base here in Bogotá. They’ll be taking up the slack if things go south. You’ll be home free.”

  Damn him. She resisted being held down, but her limbs were made of lead and his voice lulled her into a semi-coma. “Gun, why would things go ... south?” She thought her voice sounded strong and commanding. “Don’t you dare leave me. Please, don’t leave me.” She could feel her mouth curving up in a goofy smile before she slumped into her pillows, issuing a last request. “Devil. Take me.”

  * * * *

  Ali opened her eyes, the d
ull roar of being in a too-quiet room pounding in her ears. Still dark. Why had she wakened so suddenly? It was pitch black outside. Gun must have turned over or laid his arm across her waist.

  Reaching back to touch him, her hand didn’t feel the warmth of his firm body, but the unwelcoming cold of a pillowcase. The air was too quiet, no sound of his breathing or those low groans he made when those ugly dreams came visiting.

  Suspicion pushed her from the bed. She wondered why the drapes were closed on all the windows and the terrace doors, with his insistence for fresh air. Yanking the drapes apart, she wanted to scream. It was still dark, but the sky was blue-gray with predawn light. She hurried to the bathroom, pushing the door open. Nothing, not even his razor. Crushing realization that she was alone took her breath. Gun. The bastard was gone.

  “You son-of-a-bitch!” He’d made the decision to leave her behind because he didn’t trust her. The dirty devil had been screwing her over the whole time, making plans to ditch her. “Bastard.”

  Ali raged inwardly as she ran back into the bedroom. The things on the nightstand made her twice as angry. The bigheaded bastard had left her all of the cash, the agency credit card, and both cell phones. Very cute. Oh, yes. There was a note, too.

  His scrawl said she was to go to the military base outside Bogotá and they would get her back to the States. They were aware of the mission and would take up the slack. The end. Not even a so-long or kiss-his-ass. Damn him to hell.

  She couldn’t take this quietly. “Who made you lord and master, Gunnison?” She crumpled the note in her fist. She was a trained agent. Fully qualified and capable. This was her mission, and she was damn sure going to finish it.

  The clothes she had laid out were neatly folded at the foot of the bed. She growled in contempt of the man who proclaimed her incapable. Pulling her pants on, she stuffed the money and credit card into one of the larger pockets and then pulled the short-sleeved T-shirt on. While she jammed her feet into her lace-up jack-boots, she looked at her handbag, noticing he’d had the decency to leave her with a weapon and his shoulder holster.

  After she pushed the cuffs of her pants down into her boot tops, Ali ran into the bathroom to scrub her teeth and throw water on her face. Her hair got only a slap of the brush as she ran back into the bedroom. She put the holster on and shivered as it embraced her body. Too big, but it would do. Shoving her Walther PPK into the well-oiled holster, she quickly pulled on the long-sleeved olive-drab shirt, tying it at her waist. As a last-minute survival option, she sprayed herself and her clothing with the insect repellent the agency had issued before they left. That could only mean they expected them to survive. Fat chance with Gun abandoning her. The asshole.

  Stark, cold reality weighed heavy even while she raged in silence. Whining wasn’t her style, and blaming him was stupid. Sure, he left you, but you should have been on to him.

  Gathering everything up in her arms that would say she had been there, Ali hurried across the room, cautiously opening the door. She stepped into the hall, locking the door behind her. The clothing and grooming aids clattered down the chute, and she bypassed the elevator to take the stairs. Seven flights, and she was still a little foggy. Hell, no, she wouldn’t give in to the sleepy buzz in her ears. Go, damn it. She slowed her mad flight when a door opened into the stairwell on the floor below. Just one of the maids. If she didn’t fall on her face, she would catch up with the idiot.

  Chapter 22

  “What do you mean, he told you to tell me not to follow him?” Ali had little patience as she questioned Ramón and pretended to be ignorant of Gun’s reasons for leaving her. “Did he really say he was tired of me?”

  He looked as if he might run away any second. “I’m sorry, but that is what he said.” Ramón took several steps back. “You are to go to the military base. I will drive you there.”

  Pride of being put in charge resonated in his voice, but fired a blaze of hot resentment in Ali’s blood. She was aware Gun had cooked up those instructions, giving them to Ramón to control her. That was why the young man had been waiting in the lobby for her.

  “Is that right?” She shook her head and held her hand out. “Loan me your car, please.”

  “My car?” He appeared to be thunderstruck. “Oh, no. Not my car.”

  She reached down to unfasten the pocket that held the cash. “I’ll buy it.” She didn’t care what the cost; she had to have it. “How much?” He looked unsure, and she grimaced with impatience. “Please help me, Ramón. I have to go after Sweeney. Please.”

  On cue, her eyes filled with tears. Ramón didn’t have to know they were brought on by anger.

  “I don’t know, Bambi.” He glanced at the cash in her hand. “Sweeney said to make sure you didn’t follow him.”

  “Ramón. He’s going to be a father.”

  “What?” His eyes lit with interest.

  “That’s right. We’re having a baby, and he doesn’t know.” She peeled several large bills from her stash. “Will a thousand be fair?”

  He pressed his car keys into her palm. “More than fair. Go after him. Sweeney will be proud.”

  She had a hard time hiding her smirk of pleasure.

  “Oh, yes. You can’t imagine.”

  Ramón walked her to an older Honda. “It will do a hundred if you want it to.” He helped her into the car and smiled proudly.

  She started the engine and waved to him as she backed the compact out of the parking spot. “Thanks, Ramón. I’ll remember you.”

  “Goodbye, Bambi.”

  She drove away in the bleary light of dawn, turning off the stereo that was set on extra-loud. Getting out of town was no problem at this hour, but time was getting away. Once the market and fancy homes fell away in the distance, Ali gassed the compact car and swung south onto the dirt trail that was supposed to be a road.

  Of course it started to rain, huge drops that splattered onto the windshield. Getting past the farmers and big-wheeled carts and overloaded pickups was a navigational trick. At times she was in the ditch, making room for them and their goods. They ignored her for the most part as she drove by.

  She would be facing murderers on horses pretty damn soon if she didn’t get a move on. Slowly the parade of farmers dried up, and she pushed the accelerator to the floor, not caring if the brush whipped the paint off her car. Damn, did that stuff grow overnight?

  Coming to a shallow creek that ran over the roadway, Ali eased up on the gas and made her way across the ford, not worried about the ankle-deep water in the floorboard. Funny, she didn’t remember the creek. Of course, she hadn’t been driving then. She saw nothing that said Gun had come this way ... Yes, she did.

  Fresh tire tracks in the mud off to the side of the road and a crumpled cigarette package at the head of the ford caught her attention, and she stopped to check it out. The scent of fresh tobacco speared her nostrils after she sniffed inside the wrinkled packaging.

  Prints of jump boots told her he had spent a few minutes here, to smoke and kill a little time. At least a size thirteen. Placing her foot in the prints, she knew they were his.

  Surety of being on the right road eased her worries slightly, but knowing what waited out in the tangled vines and marshes made her nervous. Killing Armondez would be a necessary and quick act, but the slime and crawling shit in the darkness would be a real living nightmare. Stop it. Get to where you’re supposed to be before hell breaks loose.

  Jumping back into the car, Ali drove as fast as the rough road and rain would allow, afraid of breaking a spring or a tie rod in the hellish roadway. The wipers didn’t work now, and she screamed in outrage. How could anyone live in this country and not have working wipers? Damn it! The rain alternated between showers and torrential downpour.

  Her heart thudded to a stop as a man on horseback appeared from nowhere. She swerved to the side to miss him, but didn’t stop. She couldn’t see him the rearview mirror. Lord, if she got out of here alive, never again would she be caught in this kind of
mess.

  The windshield inside had fogged up, and she had to lower the window. Crap, the visibility was zero. Forced to a crawl, she leaned out the window to look for any identifying landmarks. Nothing, damn it. No, wait a minute. There was something there.

  Glints from the first rays of sun struck metal, hitting something a short distance off the road. Ali pulled off the road and drove into a grove of low-growing trees. There sat a lovely, mud-spattered, battleship-gray Jeep. With heart beating at a dangerous pace, Ali drove in beside the Jeep and parked.

  No use looking for Gun. He was already at the sniper site, waiting for The Anaconda. Hurry, damn it. The site was a hard three miles from here, and she would have to run every step.

  By the time she shut the door, she was soaked to the skin. Her hair plastered to her face and drove her crazy. She took off running, following the road until she could identify the riding trail across the road. Running toward the barbed wire fence, she fell face-down in the mud. No time to cuss. Get up and find Gun. He needs you.

  Crawling up the rocky, slick embankment, Ali rolled under the barbed wire, getting to her feet and running on down the trail. How many miles was the place from here? Stop thinking about distance. Suck it up and go. Her stride lengthened, and determination forced her legs to flex.

  The sound of pounding hoofs startled her, and she dove into the tall grass that grew along the trail. A riderless horse wearing a bridle galloped by, almost stepping on her leg. She waited several seconds before daring to move. No one followed or yelled at the fleeing animal. Okay, get up and get going. She hated herself for behaving like a first-class coward.

  Stumbling back onto the trail, she sprinted ahead, sticking to the edge and looking around like a hoot owl. Well, hell.

  She pulled up, thinking she recognized the rail fencing along part of the trail. If she was right, Gun was close. Her gait loosened and she ran all out now, falling several more times before seeing a spot in the tall grass growing along the fence where it looked like something had crawled through recently. The attempt to cover it was pretty damned good, but not good enough to fool her.