Page 112 of Killer Secrets (Tempting SEALs 5)

He watched her as though genuinely confused by this.

"Perhaps I have grown weak?" he asked then. "I am growing old, my youth is gone. Perhaps this is what comes of a man realizing his chances are gone. When I was young, there was always next year to fix those things I thought I should fix. Next year to atone for the deaths of my brothers. Next year to rail at Carmelita for more children. Next year. Always next year, until one day I awoke to learn that next year could not fix those mistakes I had made."

Shock held her silent now. This was the monster? This man, not broken, not weak, but realizing the choices and the consequences of his life.

"You killed your brothers," she said quietly. "Their wives, their children, because they wanted out of the cartel."

"Is that what you think? That I took those lives simply because they would betray me to your American government?" He laughed at that, though the sound was bitter. "How I wish it had been so simple. That my treachery and blood thirst was so blackened by evil." He shook his head. "No, Miss Porter, I killed in an act of rage. The explosion that destroyed the home I had given Marika, I learned had been set because my brothers had betrayed her location to my enemies. This I was told, and in my grief, I took all they held dear as well, before killing them." He shook his head then. "I should have known better. I should have seen that the madness that was affecting my father at that time couldn't be trusted."

"Your father told you they were the reason Marika was dead?"

"He told me that my brothers were aligning themselves with our enemies, and it was true that they were. It was only later that I learned that it had not been my brothers who betrayed Marika's home, but Carmelita. She did so after my father went to Ian's mother, told her of the business of the cartel, told her that I was vile, deceitful, and all but wed to another. He told her I would kill her once our child was born."

He moved quickly from his seat, paced to the other side of the room, and tipped the glass to his lips.

"So many mistakes," he whispered once he had consumed the liquid. "So many times I wished I could go back." He shook his head then. "I see my son, grown, a man of honor slowly dying inside as he runs this business." He set the glass on the low marble-topped table beside him and ran his fingers through his unbound hair, keeping his back to her as he stared at the curtained window. "It is almost finished, is it not? He will leave when Sorrell has been dealt with." He turned to her, staring at her questioningly.

"Ian hasn't revealed his plans to me, Mr. Fuentes. He hasn't said one way or the other."

He nodded again. "He will leave."

Kira lowered her head, feeling the pain coming in waves from a man who suddenly seemed the least likely of drug lords.

"Marika, she raised a son to be proud of," he said then, turning to face her once again. "A son to make a man regret, and to make a man wish he were strong enough to give his son the only thing he wants from his father."

"What does Ian want from you?" she asked.

Bitterness tipped his lips. "My death, Miss Porter. Nothing would make Ian happier than to see me leave this world forever."

"Or to see you stop feeling sorry for yourself before this meeting." Ian stepped into the room, his voice low but lashing. He strode to the decanter, poured himself a drink, and tipped it back before speaking again. "Garcia has the soldiers in place and everything's quiet for now. Kira and I are going to rest until dark. Send Deke up to the room if you need me."

Kira rose to her feet, hearing the cool, steady tone of his guttural voice, aware that he must have heard much more than Diego's last statement.

"Of course I will," Diego said, a shade of sarcasm filling his voice now. "I but live to serve you now, do I not."

Ian's jaw clenched as he glanced at Kira, then back to Diego.

"It seems to me that you just live to piss me off at times like this," he growled. "I can't afford to have you drunk, Diego. I need you sober and aware tonight."

"You have never seen me drunken," Diego snapped then. "Do not give your woman the impression that I am worse than what I am, Ian. I am no drunkard."

"I didn't think you were suicidal either," Ian stated mockingly. "I hope you'd at least stick around long enough to see this through."

Kira saw the anger glittering in Diego's eyes then, the dim light from the foyer gleaming on the pitch-black of his eyes.

"I always see it through, Ian," he reminded his son roughly. "If I do nothing else, I see all things through."

With that, he stalked across the room, brushed by his son, and made his way quickly through the foyer.

Kira watched Ian as Diego left, the way his shoulders seemed to tense further, his expression tightening more.

"He's not the only one that wants to get drunk," Ian muttered. "Come on, let's go upstairs."

He didn't touch her. He didn't grip her wrist and drag her into the foyer and up the stairs. Instead, he stepped back to the doorway and watched her broodingly.

Kira moved ahead of him, taking the steps quickly and heading to his bedroom suite. She turned to face him once again as he closed and locked the door, then waited until he stepped to the bureau, set his security, and stood staring at the electronics in the drawer for long seconds before closing it and turning back to face her.

He pushed his fingers through his hair, in the same manner that Diego had done earlier. The dark blond strands framed the heavy expression on his face, brushed his shoulders, and tempted her to run her own fingers through it.

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