Page 28 of Killer Secrets (Tempting SEALs 5)

She wasn't a submissive, but a part of her was dying to submit. To meet his dominance head-on, to push at the boundaries he had set, and to weave herself as firmly around his soul as she knew he was weaving around hers.

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Eight

IAN RELEASED KIRA SLOWLY FROM the filmy lengths of material that hung along the side of the bed. The thin panel he had used bound her wrists, holding her body in place for him, something he doubted Kira had tried often.

He ran his hand along her back, clenched his teeth and merely caressed the rounded globes of her rear rather than watching them blush, hearing her scream as she found more pleasure in an erotic spanking than she could imagine, and feeling her come apart as she found the threshold between that pleasure and pain.

There were so many ways he wanted to touch her, fuck her. So many things he could do to her body that would leave her shaking, gasping his name, immersed in a pleasure he knew she had never reached before.

She was a strong woman, there was no doubt. But he knew her strength and he knew the hungers that even she didn't understand herself. And he knew that sexual, independent creature inside her was dying to defy the dominance he kept tightly leashed.

She was collapsed beneath him now, on her stomach, her head buried in the pillow as she fought for breath.

Ian straightened the filmy panels then rose and discarded the condom he wore before stretching out beside her in the bed.

A dumb move, he told himself as he pulled her into his arms and held her against his chest. A really dumb move, because she felt so right. She felt as though she belonged against his chest and in his arms. She fit him, and damn if that knowledge didn't rock his soul all over again.

"We have reports that Sorrell is becoming irritated with your defiance of him," she said as one hand smoothed over his chest. "You're encouraging the smaller cartels to defy him as well. He'll strike against you soon."

"I'm not discussing Sorrell with you, Kira." Ian stared at the ceiling through the diaphanous material that stretched across the canopy frame above. "I'm not discussing any of this with you."

"I'm here to help you, Ian." Irritation colored her voice as she lifted her head to stare back at him. "I have my own sources I can work. You're fighting a very dangerous man. Don't throw away an opportunity to gain any advantage you can."

"You being the advantage?" He let his hand smooth over the fall of hair that caressed his chest now. Her hair was softer than silk and warm enough to comfort a man on a cold winter night.

"I'm a hell of an asset." There was no ego there, it was simply the truth and Ian knew it. She was a hell of an asset.

"This is my fight." And he didn't want her anywhere close to the danger he knew was coming. "I'll take care of Sorrell."

He would identify him, and if he couldn't kill him then he would walk away and allow others to do it. Either way, when the game was up, he didn't want Kira anywhere close to the violence that would ensue.

"I want you on a plane out of here, this week," he told her then, meeting her gaze as he allowed the tips of his fingers to caress the gentle curve of her cheek. "Go back to the States and forget about this."

Her smile was a soft curve of sorrow. "Do you really think I'm going to do that? I've found in the last months that I would do a lot for you, Ian. But I won't do that."

"That isn't your fight."

"I've made it my fight."

Where in the hell had she developed all this stubbornness? She was the most intractable woman he had ever met. She didn't argue, she didn't scream or yell. She stated intentions and then followed through. He knew that. Besides what he had learned of her in Atlanta, his investigation into her had yielded the proof of it.

"I won't come back here," he told her then. "Tonight won't exist after dawn arrives, and it won't happen again."

She shook her head, causing her hair to ripple over the muscles of his chest and his taut abdomen.

"It may not. I hear you're a man of your word. But I'm not leaving Aruba until I finish what I came to do."

"Which is?" Frustration colored his voice. "What the hell do you think you can accomplish here?"

"I ca

n watch your back and gather the information you need from the sources you can't access as the Fuentes heir. That's my mission and I won't leave until this is over. You can make my job easy, or you can make it hard. It's your choice." She lowered her head as she spoke, allowing her lips to caress his shoulder, her fingers to knead the bunched muscles of his biceps.

Ian continued to stare at the ceiling, frowning, trying to distance himself from emotion and to use the only weapons he had on hand for the perilous operation he was conducting. He had the smallest team they could put together; hell, it was so small he didn't have a hope if the Fuentes soldiers didn't follow him against Sorrell. That was his strength, the loyalty the cartel possessed. It went beyond money, to familial affiliations. Diego was related to the better part of his generals. His generals were related to their lieutenants and their lieutenants were related to the soldiers. It was a circle that continued on and on.

There might be a few spies, a few speaking from both sides of their mouths, but they all agreed. Terrorism made it hard on the drug trade. Terrorist fanatics made it even harder to sell drugs. Ergo, don't let the French terrorist in on the business.

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