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“Oh, get over it. I talk when I’m nervous. Guess what, I’m not perfect. And neither are you…”
She paused and her eyes gleamed, and he knew she was going to do it. He willed her not to. His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed and he willed her not to taunt him. But he could almost feel the emotion bursting from her. She was wired, looking for an outlet, looking for a confrontation to release the pressure inside her that fear and anxiety had caused. And she chose to pick a fight with him. Beast understood. He did. It was one of the reasons he still climbed into a ring.
But this wasn’t the time.
Because the need to let off steam was riding him hard too.
“Don’t do it.” His voice had dropped an octave, and he willed her to heed the warning in it.
Her eyes sparked. Her cheeks flushed. She took a breath and with a tilt of her chin that challenged him she said, “No, you aren’t perfect either, are you, John?”
She folded her arms, cocked her hip and smirked at him with those pouty lips of hers, daring him to do something about it, pushing him over the edge on which the two of them were so precariously balanced. He felt himself fall as he reached for her. And then he did what he’d been wanting to do since he’d first set eyes on her. He shut her up the only way he knew how, by slamming his mouth over hers.
It was electric.
Static charges shot through his body, making his skin sizzle with need.
Because of her.
Because of how she tasted, and felt, and moved against him.
She moaned as her lips opened. He clasped her head. His tongue surged into her mouth. There was a second when the world around them seemed to stop, when silence engulfed them as the rainforest disappeared. There was only the two of them, sharing the desperate need to release everything within them. To let the other person take it all. To find some relief.
Chapter 9
It had been two hours since their last meeting, and now the Benson Security team assembled in the ballroom once again. Ryan noted that this time, the family members who weren’t part of the team were missing. Coffee was flowing freely, and a buffet table had been set up near the bar, laden with finger food. Ryan had helped himself to a plate full of sandwiches, pastries and cake. He planned to go back for seconds.
“They have fruit, too,” Elle pointed out as he sat back down beside her.
“Fruit doesn’t fill you. You need stodge for that.”
She shook her head. The programming genius had changed out of her party dress and into a pair of purple shorts that sported a vintage Minnie Mouse pattern, and a yellow T-shirt with ‘Ka Pow!’ in a jagged cartoon bubble, printed across her chest.
“See you took the time to get back into your work clothes,” Ryan said around a mouthful of food.
She answered him with a hand gesture before she went back to typing.
“You managed to narrow the location down?” Ryan nodded with thanks when a waitress refilled his mug with coffee. She made him think of Esperanza, and he wondered if she was still in his bed, waiting for him. He hadn’t had a minute to check. He’d been running around with Harvard trying to sort out supplies for the rescue effort. Man, he hoped she was still in his bed. And he wished he was back there with her.
“Yes,” Elle said. “It’s still a large area, but I called in some favours, and we should be getting satellite imagery through soon. Maybe we can see a settlement, or some buildings, to give us a clue where they’re keeping our people.”
Ryan let out a whistle before taking a sip of coffee. Caffeine. Just what the doctor ordered. “What kind of favours did you do that gives you access to satellites? And whose satellites are we talking about?”
She smiled, her eyes still on her computer screen. “That’s need-to-know. And you don’t. Plus, I didn’t say they were favours I was owed. I just said someone at Benson Security was owed favours. Big favours. Satellite-sized favours.”
Ryan bet he knew who it was. Benson Security’s silent partner, Harry Boyle. The guy was an IT genius, who’d written security programs for the British government, among others. He wasn’t involved in the day-to-day business at Benson—he spent his time helping his wife run a charity that worked for greater literacy in Africa—but that didn’t mean he didn’t have fingers in pies that could be useful. Speaking of pies… Ryan picked up a tiny meat one and popped it in his mouth.
“Listen up,” Lake called, and all talk stopped instantly. Every eye in the room turned to him as he looked at the waitstaff. “Please leave us.”
They didn’t have to be told twice. The group of men and women scurried from the room.
As they went out, a tall South American guy, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, sauntered into the room. He headed straight for Lake and took up a position at his side. Lake waited until the doors closed behind the waitstaff before he started speaking again. “This is Rodrigo De la Cruz. I have it on good authority that he’s the best tracker and guide in South America.”
“That would be my authority,” De la Cruz said with a grin.
Lake didn’t smile. “David sent him.”
Elle’s head jerked up on hearing the name of the man she’d been hunting for online for months. Even using the DNA sample David had taunted her with, Ryan knew she was no closer to finding out who the mysterious man really was, or which government he worked for. When Elle realised that David hadn’t accompanied De la Cruz, her shoulders slumped. Ryan wasn’t sure what was going on with David and Elle, but he knew he’d sneaked into her bedroom in Scotland months earlier and warned her to stop hunting him—by securing her with pink fluffy handcuffs, no less.
