Into Temptation Page 12
John had more muscle and strength than both of those men combined. But it was his warlike posture and menacing scowl that sent them hurrying out of the room.
“You’re not making any friends.” She rubbed her neck, looking around at the commercial machines and free weights. This was the longest she’d ever been in this building.
“I’m not here to make friends.” He glanced at the camera in the ceiling and ambled toward a rack of kettlebells. “Follow me.”
“You know, not everything has to be an authoritarian command. You could ask out of common decency.”
He extended a finger toward the floor beside him and waited.
“Right.” She grumbled a few choice words under her breath and dragged her feet to where he wanted her. “Now what?”
“You know how to hit, but you’ll land harder punches if you strengthen the muscles here.”
He jabbed his thumbs into her shoulders. Then he proceeded to show her how to build those muscles.
She questioned his motivation just as she questioned everything about him. But she needed to be patient. She’d only just met him last night. Less than twenty-four hours ago.
It’s going to be a long week.
Once she got the hang of the repetitions, he left her to it and moved toward the heavier iron on the other side of the room.
For the next hour, they worked out in silence. She transitioned to the machines while he tossed around some deadly weight. His physique glistened with sweat, swelling and flexing obscenely.
The barbell loved him, and he seemed to love the punishment it put on his upper body. His chest, shoulders, and triceps contracted with every heave and pull. His lips curled back from his teeth, his grunts and pained breaths making it impossible to ignore his presence.
He was an erotic destination, a trip she had no business taking with her eyes. But the impulse couldn’t be denied. She looked long and often, and he caught her every time, because he was looking, too.
Plenty of men had stared at her, here and before. But not the way he did. Not at his level of predatory intensity.
He reminded her of a big, sleek cat, with an air of smugness and danger that came from being well-fed yet always hunting. And why wouldn’t he look at her like she was his next meal? He’d bought himself a week with her to do whatever he pleased outside the reach of the law. He didn’t need to ask her permission, for anything, and he wouldn’t.
But you’re also realizing there’s more to me than that moment.
Maybe.
Maybe that was what scared her the most.
Standing at the vanity in his bathroom, Luke scraped a razor across his jaw and watched his little warrior in the mirror. The view was no less than stunning, and his blood simmered with appreciation.
Beneath the spray of the shower, she rinsed the soap from her hair, smoothing the long coils into a black velvet curtain. Water sluiced down her tawny body, running sensual rivulets around toned curves and muscle.
Her gaze found his in the mirror, and swear to God, that look had a punch, hitting hard enough to make his balls shrivel. Her dark eyes blazed with righteous censure and judgment. But there was desire as well, no matter how hard she fought to hold it at bay.
More than anything, he wanted to see that desire win out.
It was dangerous to hope for such a thing. He only had one week with her, and during that time, his focus needed to be on Vera Gomez.
Dinner with Alejandro was approaching, and he counted on Vera being there. The sexual chemistry between Gina and him was so potent it wouldn’t go unnoticed. Not by Vera nor Alejandro nor anyone else present tonight.
He would flaunt it, not hide it. Let them obsess over his relationship with the fighter. Better that than on the real reason he was here.
Even Tomas detected the energy ricocheting between him and the woman in the shower. His friend leaned against the wall beside the vanity, wearing a scowl full of opinions.
“Shut your fucking mouth.” Luke tossed the razor aside and rinsed his face.
“I didn’t say anything, you twat.”
Gina turned off the faucet, snagged a towel, and strode toward the doorway as if she couldn’t get away fast enough.
“Your dress is on the bed,” Luke called after her. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
With a middle-finger salute, she disappeared around the corner.
Tomas stared after her with smoldering interest in his unmasked expression. A jolt of aggression shot up Luke’s spine, and he slammed a hand down on the vanity.
“That woman is fucking beautiful.” Tomas blinked and finally dragged his eyes away from the doorway.
“That’s the last time you’ll notice.”
Tomas huffed a disbelieving laugh. “Have you lost your goddamn mind?”
A sharp inhale stretched Luke’s nostrils, and he pushed away from the sink.
“Oh, shit.” Trailing after him, Tomas whispered harshly, “She’s getting to you.”
“Don’t be a moron. I’ve known her less than a day.”
“It only takes a look, man. You’re fucked.”
Luke whirled and shoved a finger in that smug mug. “Back the fuck off.”
“Save it.” Tomas leaned in, putting their faces an inch apart. “I’m the last person you want to fight.”
That much was true. Tomas would mop the floor with his ass.
“I’ve got your back.” His friend stood taller, using his height to drive home his point. “Even when it means protecting you from your own mistakes.”
“What mistakes are those, Tommy?” He lowered his growl to barely a whisper. “Raping an innocent girl?”
“Next time, it may not be rape. Then what? How will she react when you have to fuck another girl who doesn’t like you?”
“That’s insulting on so many levels.”
“Get the sand out of your vagina.” With a scoff, Tomas raked a hand through the flop of his brown hair. “Focus on your target.”
“I am.”
“Good.”
“Fine.”
They glared at each other for a hot minute before Luke blew out a breath.
“I’m not doubting you.” Tomas clapped him on the shoulder. “To be honest, you’re managing this so well I feel useless here.”
“You’ve done plenty.”
In twenty-four hours, Tomas had gathered more intel on La Rocha than in all the years their team had been tracking the cartel. He knew the location of the monitoring room, every camera on the property, as well as the names and positions of every man who came and went through the gates.
“Did you find the girl who was in the limo with us yesterday?” Luke asked quietly at his ear.
She hadn’t been wearing a hood during the drive. If they found her, Luke might be able to coax crucial information from her.
“Yes.” Tomas’ face turned white.
“What? What is it?”
“The girl in the basement… The one on the hook—”
“No.” His stomach turned, and his chest burned with bile. “That wasn’t her. It couldn’t be.”
“I’m one-hundred-percent certain. But we couldn’t have known. Her face was…”
Beaten to a pulp. Unrecognizable. But he should’ve looked closer. Should’ve questioned.
“Fuck!” He spun away and slammed his foot into a trashcan, sending it screeching across the floor.
“Pull your shit together.” Tomas grabbed Luke’s neck and yanked him close, bringing their foreheads together. “Move on. Right now. With me?”
“Yeah.” He drew in a breath and released it. Then another. “I’m with you.”
Footsteps approached, and Gina poked her head in. “Lover’s quarrel?”
Luke shook off the sick feeling in his gut and turned to face her. “Let me see you.”
Her fingers tightened on the door jamb, her body out of view. But he glimpsed the edge of a sexy strap on her shoulder.
Stubbornness hardened her expression, her eyes
shifting with indecision. Then she set her jaw, straightened, and stepped into the doorway.
The air rushed from his lungs, parting his lips and caving in his chest.
Tomas gave him a squeeze on the shoulder and left the room. Terrible idea. Luke couldn’t be trusted with this intoxicating creature.
She stood before him, dripping temptation and sin in a gown of black silk. Fresh face, damp curls, and spiked heels that seemed to extend the length of her bronzy, athletic legs.
He tried to gather his breath, his voice, but all he could do was stare.
Christ almighty, she was an exquisite, heart-stopping, goddamn knockout. The dress hugged her tiny tits, nipped in at the waist, and flared around her toned thighs. Understated yet elegant. Striking. Just like her.
“This is rather tame for dinner with the cartel.” She fingered the hem of the skirt, eyebrows drawn in confusion. “I assumed you’d put me in pleather and chains or something equally distasteful.”
“I told Tomas to find a plain dress. I’m sure he tried, but…” The longer he soaked in her immaculate beauty, the tighter his suit pants became. “Nothing could ever look plain on you.”
“Why? I mean, why do you want me to look plain? They love their whores to dress—”
“You’re not a whore, and while you’re with me, you will not dress like one.”
Her eyes widened.
He snatched his necktie from the chair and moved to the mirror to wrangle the thing into place. After a few lousy attempts to make a knot, he yanked it free, grunting with frustration.
He was a mechanic, not a pompous high roller. How was he supposed to continue this ruse when he couldn’t even knot a tie? Tomas would have to show him again, but not without teasing him excessively for it.
As he turned to call for his friend, a small hand landed on his chest.
“Allow me.” Brown eyes stared up at him from the face of a goddess.
He raised his chin, giving her access. “You know how to do this?”
“I thought everyone knew how.” She looped the ends, watching him with suspicion. “Especially rich businessmen.”
“I never said I was a businessman.”
“That’s right.” With swift movements, she made a tug here, an adjustment there, and stepped back. “You invest in important things. Criminal things that don’t require a suit, apparently.”
“My offer stands.” He rested a knuckle beneath her chin, lifting it. “I’ll tell you my secrets.”
She turned her head away, rejecting his touch along with his offer.
Probably for the best. What he needed from her was the location of the breach in the wall or whatever she’d seen beyond it. But even that might not be enough to determine the coordinates of this place.
None of it was worth blowing his cover. He’d been asking himself all day if he could tell her the truth. The simple fact that he was on the same side as Vera’s sister would make Gina turn against him even more than she already was. She hated Vera worse than she hated him.
He couldn’t trust her, no matter how badly he wanted to.
“There’s makeup and hair stuff in that bag.” He nodded at the supplies Tomas had gathered. “It’s yours to use.”
“I don’t wear makeup.”
“Good.”
She didn’t need it. Even with bruised splotches on her face, the woman had more natural radiance than anyone he’d ever met.
“We leave in ten minutes.” He ambled out of the room to find his suit jacket and mentally prepare for the evening.
A moment later, the sound of a hairdryer reached his ears. Surely she wasn’t blowing out her curls? He loved the way they bounced and spiraled in every direction. He fantasized about them coiling around his cock as he sank into the back of her throat.
Sick fuck.
In the bedroom, he shrugged on the jacket. After their workout, she’d spent the day in the sitting room watching TV while he and Tomas sent cryptic messages to their team.
They only had access to the laptops and cell phones provided by the cartel. But they’d prepared for that and sent all communication to burner phones and other untraceable devices that were monitored by the Freedom Fighters.
Before departing Colombia, they’d memorized a specific list of song lyrics, each verse with a predetermined meaning, a specific message on the status of the mission. Right now, their friends only needed to know they were safe. They found Vera alive and well, and everything was moving as expected.
Within the next couple of days, he hoped to have a different message to send. If they obtained the location, he would send Tomas away with an excuse and remain here until he returned with a full team and a lot of firepower.
A knock sounded on the outside door. He tilted his head, listening as Tomas answered it.
“Good evening.” Vera’s sultry voice drifted in, followed by the click of her heels. “Where’s your handsome jefe?”
Luke strolled into the main room with his hands clasped behind him.
She went still, her gaze sweeping him from head to toe and back again. “Well, don’t you look absolutely delicious?”
Bending, she lowered a large brown bag to the floor, and her chest nearly spilled from the tight black leather dress.
At least it’s not pleather.
“What did you bring me?” He prowled toward her, causing her breaths to accelerate.
“Ice cream.” She smiled and flushed. “When I heard you ordered three boxes of Klondike bars, I had to see it for myself.”
“See what exactly?”
“A physically fit, gorgeous specimen of a man consume dozens of ice cream bars. I mean, come on.” She cocked a hip, blatantly flirting. “How do you eat junk food and still look like that?”
“It’s not for me.” He angled his chin to speak behind him. “You can stop spying and come out.”
An annoyed huff sounded in the bathroom, and a moment later, Gina strode into the room.
She’d left her hair curly, and those silky, raven spirals sprung around her arms and chest as she navigated the sky-rise heels with more poise and grace than he would’ve thought possible.
His eyes tracked her, his insides heating and tightening anew. Tomas was right. She was getting to him, under his skin, in his head, and fucking with his heart rate.
He never had trouble shutting off sexual attraction. But this went beyond shallow interest.
For the first time in his life, he wanted more from a woman than a night of pleasure.
He wanted more with this woman.
“Vera,” he said. “Give her the ice cream.”
He could retrieve the bag himself but wanted to study the interactions between the two women.
As expected, Vera clenched her jaw. Then she slowly lowered and gripped the bag, her eyes locked on him.
“I can’t eat that right now.” Gina approached his side and curled a hand around his elbow.
An unsolicited touch? This was new, and damn him, but he felt her grip through his entire body.
He slid his other hand over hers, and Vera homed in on the connection, scowling her displeasure from beneath beetled brows.
With his eyes on her, he focused his other senses on Gina, marking the stiffness in her posture, the slight tremble in her fingers, and the overall nervousness wafting from her pores. He suspected it had little to do with Vera and everything to do with Alejandro’s dinner.
If she wasn’t dreading the next few hours, she should’ve been.
“Put the dessert in the freezer.” He flicked a finger toward the kitchen, dismissing Vera like a common servant.
She hesitated, her face pinched like she would argue. Then she pushed back her shoulders and obeyed.
Turning toward Gina, he twined his fingers through the soft curls on her shoulder. “Are you ready?”
“Fuck no.”
“Good girl. Stay on your toes. But know this…” He bent in and grazed his lips along her cheek. “No one will touch you but me.”
“There’s nothing fragile about you, and I’m counting on that tonight.” He straightened and pivoted toward Vera. “Will you be joining us this evening?”
“Yes, I’m headed there now. We can walk together.” She sauntered to the door and looked back at him expectantly.
He emptied his expression, hiding any response she might’ve sparked in him, which was very little. All criminal behavior aside, there was something off-putting about her.
Tula hadn’t shown him any recent photos, but the digital images he’d seen of teenage Vera had alluded to the gorgeous woman she was today. He couldn’t find a single flaw in her appearance.
It was her personality. The smarmy way she ogled him, the constant hair-flicking and lip-licking, the overly servile responses to his demands—she rubbed him the wrong way.
Sliding his hand around Gina’s, he felt a sudden jerk, her reflex to pull away. Then her fingers curled around his, slick with sweat and nerves.
He was right there with her, anxious to end the evening before it had even begun.
With a nod at Tomas, he followed his friend out the door.
“Your hair is the sexiest shade of red I’ve ever seen.” Vera inched closer on the couch, bending over Luke’s sprawled leg.
“Mm.” His tongue took a stroll through his mouth, casting off the sour taste of her flattery.
She’d openly watched him across the table all through dinner. After dessert, it hadn’t taken her long to seek him out in Alejandro’s den.
Ten minutes into their private conversation, he knew he would have her beneath him by night’s end.
Would…
Definitely should.
He should fuck her into delirium, drug her with orgasms, and win her over once and for all.
With a sharp pang in his gut, his gaze gravitated to the dark-haired beauty sitting alone on the far side of the den. He’d kept Gina in his periphery from the moment they’d arrived but hadn’t spoken a word to her.
Her eyes shone with alertness, her posture cautiously still. The purple markings that splotched her face lent a tough edge to her feminine appearance. But it wasn’t just the bruises that made her unapproachable. Her entire aura screamed, Fuck off.