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“I am Mercedes, your hostess.”
A professionally warm smile, Rhianne amended. Was she there of her own volution or had she been coerced into the role? Her cheerful welcome was kind of undercut by the heavily armed men flanking her. Rhianne didn’t really pay attention to Mercedes’s rundown of the weekend’s events—she was too busy discreetly observing as much as she could of the place’s layout, taking in all the details of entrances, exits, and posted guards that they hadn’t been able to see from their vantage point the previous day. Anything she could observe would help in their mission. She snapped to when their hostess got to the rules.
“And, last but not least, please make sure to stay within the permitted zones. The resort has no-go areas. Now, follow me…” Shifting her iPad to one hand, she gestured across the courtyard with the other, and the group fell into step behind her.
“These are our guest rooms.” Mercedes indicated the short row of self-contained cabanas, each set so there was space between it and its neighbors.
Rhianne’s pulse sped when all the other couples and guests were shown to their rooms…and she and Eric were last. It took Eric wincing for her to realize she was digging her fingernails into his hand, and she heaved in a rusty-feeling breath.
“Thank you,señorita.” Eric bowed when Mercedes opened the door and passed him the key.
“Please relax here until you are escorted to the mixer later,” Mercedes said and with a final flash of teeth, departed.
Rhianne entered. There was a sitting room area with a TV and some other gadgets. A tiny kitchenette filled one corner of the room—not set up to cook in but enough to make coffee, mix drinks at the wet bar, and eat some of the snacks in the gift basket that was waiting for them, loaded with fruit and boxed treats.
On the opposite side of the room, French doors were open to show the bedroom with its king-size bed. The room was done in earth tones, tasteful and pretty with some ornaments and prints Rhianne would perhaps have selected for herself. And that made it so wrong, knowing what this place really was, that girls were imprisoned here.
She sagged at the knees but forced herself to stay upright, grabbing at the knob of the door behind her to help steady herself. She went to speak, but before she could, Eric put his finger to his lips, confusing her. She was downright mystified when he started to search the room. Not search,sweep, she realized—he was looking for bugs. Stupid,stupid,she should have thought of that. Of course Arturo would want to listen in on his guests. She sprang to help, filling the silence by making inane conversation about the landscaping in the courtyard and how she’d thought of getting similar tiles for their patio to cover what they were doing.
Eric found a bug, tucked into the lamp, a small thing that she would have missed. His face furious, he lifted the small metallic disc high, his fingers flexing to crush it, but Rhianne shook her head, grabbing at his arm. She crossed to the bedside table and took the small notepad and pen she’d noticed in her search.
No, she wrote on it.Destroying it would bring more attention to us.Eric read the note and sighed, then nodded.Do you think there are any spies planted in the group?Rhianne wrote.
Eric’s eyebrows rose.Hadn’t thought of that,he scribbled.Better be even more on guard.
She nodded. It was not that she’d been planning on having any heart-to-heart conversations with any of their fellow weekend guests, but it was a good reminder that she couldn’t let her act drop around anyone but Eric. The silence struck Rhianne and she nudged Eric.We should talk, she mouthed.
“Are you tired, sweetie?” he asked, catching on at once. “You wanna hit the shower? The time you take to get ready, you better start now if we’re gonna make that mixer.”
“Eli!” Rhianne exclaimed, slapping the back of her hand into Eric’s arm. It made her skin tingle, and that reaction to him made her suddenly aware of how close together they were sitting. She stood and paced.
How long had they been in this room? Her watch showed her it hadn’t even been half an hour, but being at the compound frayed her nerve endings. She cracked the door open and peered out into the courtyard. Could she go for a run, or even just do some exercises out there? She jumped as Eric’s hand came over her shoulder, closing the door.
“Need a distraction?” he murmured in her ear, turning her by her shoulders to face him.
Rhianne nodded. “Yes. Anything.”
Any other words she might have added to that were cut off by Eric kissing her, his lips firm and sensuous as they descended on hers, demanding her compliance.
No.What the hell was this? Rhianne jerked back, confused. Last night, Eric had cut their kiss short by pulling away. Why was he changing his tune now? “What—” she started.
“Rhianne,” he whispered, right into the shell of her ear, softly enough that the bug wouldn’t be able to pick it up, “I haven’t been able to get that kiss out of my head.”
Then why—She couldn’t even complete that thought, much less put her question into words, because he was kissing her again. His hold on her was loose, giving her every chance to pull away—but his lips were firm and insistent, making it clear how much he wanted her to stay. Without even thinking about it, she was kissing him back just as heatedly, their lips meeting in a fierce clash ofwantandneedandyouandnow. Everything about it assailed Rhianne’s senses. The press of his lips, making hers yield. The scratch of his beard scruff, making her cup his face to feel it on her palms. His height, making her stand on tiptoe, then arch into him, melding her softness into his hardness.
She’d been the one to close whatever gap remained between them, but her eyes opened wide when Eric cupped her ass, bringing her flush against his arousal. She tore her mouth free, panting for breath, and inched her torso back a little so she could wind her arms around his neck…and hook one leg around his hip.
Eric stared down at her, the light of challenge shining in his eyes, and slid his hands up over the lacy blouse she wore, heating her flesh through the fabric. Still in silence, the only sound their roughly inhaled breaths, he started unbuttoning, beginning at the bottom and soon flicking the top one, at the low-cut ruffled neckline, open. He separated the two halves of the garment and his lips parted at the sight of her bra.
She didn’t usually wear frothy, lacy underwear like this, but it had gone with the blouse and had fit as part of Raquel’s wardrobe. The gleam in Eric’s eyes made it clear he was enjoying it. He slid both hands up her rib cage slowly, leaving gooseflesh in his wake, and cupped the jut of her breasts. Just that. He didn’t squeeze or fondle, just left his hands there.
Her body was the one to make demands, her nipples pebbling, begging for his attention. She squeezed her leg tighter around him, communicating her need, her ache. Then, when she was about ready to beg, Eric finally moved, and the rasp of his thumb when he stroked it over the lacy material sounded obscenely loud.
The sensation of his caress pulled a groan from her. He was inexorable, moving so damned slowly, and her leg slipped from his hip at the same time as her hands fell from his neck.
Eric nudged his body into hers, turning her a little, and her hands, groping behind her, found the back of the armchair. She gripped it just as Eric changed his strokes to rubbing tiny circles over the swell of her breasts instead, distending their peaks further and intensifying the ache. A pulse beat between her legs.
“Eric,” she whimpered, her voice catching so it emerged more as a sound than his name.
