Her Reluctant Hero: A Romantic Suspense Boxed Set Read online

  “And disinfectant spray.” Isabella turned to look in the cabinets around the small room, where she found thin towels. “We can cover the pillows with these.”

  “The sheets aren’t too bad,” Alex said after ripping the covers back to the end of the bed. He dropped onto the mattress that didn’t so much as bounce, and lay back. “Hell, I’m so tired I could sleep on the carpet.”

  She inspected the screens around the room, found two that were secure enough that she felt safe opening the window, and the small trailer was filled with sounds of wilderness, different from the ones in Honduras. Of course, she hadn’t opened the windows there, Santiago never would have allowed it.

  She carried the thin towels to the bed and sat beside Alex. His eyes were closed, his arm thrown over his eyes, but she knew he wasn’t asleep yet.

  Outside she heard a rumbling growl, followed by a kind of bark. She jolted and moved closer to Alex.

  “What is that?”

  “Alligator.”

  She whipped her head around to stare at him, grabbing his hand in panic, then looked past him out the window. “Are you kidding me?”

  Lazily he laced his fingers through hers. “Bull. Mating call.”

  “How on earth do you know that?”

  “Have them in North Carolina. Don’t worry. It won’t come in.”

  “I won’t go out.” Ever. “So what now?”

  He shook his head, arm still crooked over his face. “I haven’t figured that out yet.”

  She opened her mouth to press, but sensed his exhaustion and frustration, so instead asked, “The tub is pretty disgusting?”

  “Whole bathroom is,” he muttered, eyes still closed.

  With a sigh, she pushed herself off the bed. She found a worn washcloth and towel, took Alex’s toilet paper from the bag and headed in.

  The toilet had a black ring at the water level, the tub was grimy, but the sink was relatively clean. She ran warm water and stripped to her underwear, careful not to let her clothes touch the floor—no telling when they’d be able to wash, and she didn’t want to carry this smell around with them.

  With the hand soap, she cleaned quickly. She could still smell Alex on her. God, so much had happened since they’d made love, and that had only been a few hours ago. She washed his scent off, washed her feet and rinsed. Walking on top of her shoes, she made her way naked back into the bedroom, where Alex was on his side, toward the open window, asleep. She tugged his duffel open, found her kitten pajamas and slipped them on. Only once she was dressed and on the bed beside Alex, did she start to cry.

  The heavy weight of Alex’s arm across her waist woke her. She had no idea what time it was, if it was dark because of the time or because they were surrounded by trees. Alex’s breath was even, warm on the back of her neck. She’d never slept with a man all night, other than Alex, and even then he hadn’t touched her in his sleep, as if he’d had to keep his guard up.

  Why had he let his guard down now?

  She turned onto her back. She couldn’t see him but stroked his stubbled jaw. His breathing stuttered, evened out. Awake or asleep? Preferring to think he was asleep, she continued her exploration, gliding her touch down his chest.

  She cupped him through his pants. He caught his breath, definitely awake now, heavy and warm against her palm.

  “Bella,” he murmured, but it wasn’t a protest.

  She’d never had a man to turn to in the night, never had someone she could depend on to keep her safe. She squeezed, just a little, and he moaned, found her mouth in the dark, his breath musky with sleep. She didn’t release him, stroking him to fullness as he unbuttoned her top, pushed down her pants.

  The rustle of cellophane filled the room and he pushed her away, was over her, inside her, rocking her, filling her, fulfilling her.

  She ran her fingers down his back to curve over his ass, holding him to her, arching toward him, her mouth hungry beneath his. He scooped her hair back with one hand, lifted her hips with the other and they found a rhythm that pleased them both. She didn’t want it to end, didn’t want the pleasure, the connection to end, but with one shift of his hips, she tumbled over the edge and dragged him with her.

  They lay together afterwards. Tangled together, they fell asleep.

  Hours later, Isabella woke to find herself alone, sheets pulled over her naked body. Sunlight dappled the bed, filtered through the leaves of the trees and the trailer’s dirty windows. Outside, birds competed for loudest cry. She must have been tired to sleep through that. She heard movement in the kitchen and, finding her pajamas and shoes, she made her way down the hall.

  Alex crouched in front of the refrigerator in his boxers and T-shirt, scrubbing. The sour scent filled the air, along with the tinny sound of the little radio on the counter, talking about the shuttle launch.

  “Cell phone doesn’t work out here,” he said without looking up. “I’m surprised that thing does. I cleaned the bathroom too. You can take a bath if you want.”

  She pushed her hair out of her face and scanned the trailer, which didn’t improve in daylight. It did smell better, though, the combination of cleaning solution and coffee making it almost homey. “How long have you been up?” How long are we staying here, she wanted to ask.

  “Couple of hours.”

  “What time is it?”

  He pushed to his feet to rinse off the rag in the sink. “Just after noon.”

  She jolted. “So late?”

  “We got in about three, so, yeah. Don’t worry. You needed the sleep.”

  Still, she’d lost all that time, time they could have been looking for her son. She bit back the words. There was nothing to be done about it, and to harp on it would seem petty.

  “You made coffee,” she said instead, reaching across the trailer for the small pot.

  “Mug there is clean. There are Nutri-Grain bars in one of those bags there. If you want, I can heat up some chili or something.”

  “No, it’s okay.” She lifted the steaming mug to her mouth and wondering where Domestic Alex had come from. The coffee smelled wonderful, and she wasn’t ordinarily a coffee drinker.

  For a moment the trailer was silent except for the softly accented female voice on the radio, one of the astronauts from the shuttle flight.

  “So what’s the plan?” she asked.

  He sat back on his heels. “You shower, we drive somewhere to get a signal, call my team, let them know we’re okay, see what they’ve found out.”

  “Okay. We have a plan.” She set the mug on the table behind her, feeling much lighter.

  When he pushed himself to a standing position, suddenly the trailer seemed a lot smaller. Something like fondness shone in his eyes. He stroked her hair back, trailing his fingers along her jaw. Her nerves jumped in response.

  “Those pajamas make me crazy,” he murmured and covered her mouth with his.

  She bowed into him, cupping the back of his head, savoring his familiar taste, memories of last night flooding her, arousing her.

  “You smell like bleach.”

  “Sorry.” He snatched his hands back.

  She grabbed them, brought them to her face and sniffed them. “I don’t mind.”

  He kissed her again, his mouth demanding. He lifted her, carrying her down the hall. She wrapped her legs around him and clung even as he bounced her off a corner, a wall, and finally onto the bed, following her down. He rose up just enough to unbutton her top, his breathing hot and fast, and he flashed a grin at her.

  Alex. Grinned. At her.

  Her heart tumbled all over itself.

  He kissed the hollow of her throat, eased his way down, worshipfully, as if each kiss gave him the same pleasure it gave her.

  Alex could smell himself on her skin as he kissed her collarbone, the swell of her breast, before he dragged his tongue around her nipple ad continued down her flat belly. He nipped her navel before ascending again, capturing her other nipple between his lips, tugging till she gasped in ple
asure.

  Sliding his fingers down the front of her pants, he found her hot and slick. His own desire had been barely banked since she’d turned to him in the dark last night. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since he woke, the way she’d reached for him, the way they’d come together so easily, moved together so easily, found pleasure.

  It wasn’t supposed to be like that, especially not with her. That it had been, well, he wanted to feel it again. And again. When she’d walked out this morning in those damn pajamas—

  She slid her palm down his belly and into his shorts, circling him, as eager as he was, and he was naked, then sheathed, then inside her and she was moving into him, her body straining, glistening, glowing in the midday light.

  He dropped over her, pushed her hair back and kissed her deeply while she wound her arms around his neck, slick with sweat, with effort, with his impending orgasm.

  Breaking the kiss, he looked into her eyes as he vaulted over the edge, felt her holding on to him, unsure if she followed.

  “Christ, Bella,” he managed, dropping to his side next to her. “I don’t usually have such a hair trigger.”

  Without a word, she turned onto her side, sliding her hand across his shoulder to his chest, tucking her head between his neck and shoulder. He stroked her side, over her hip, watched her skin jump, sending him the signal he was looking for. She hadn’t come with him.

  He dealt with the condom, then nestled her closer to him, teased her thighs apart as he stroked her open. She reacted like an electric shock had gone through her, but he wasn’t going to make it that easy for her. He dragged his touch down to her opening, teasing her, caressing until she tensed, then retreating.

  “You have kind of a hair trigger yourself,” he murmured, dipping his fingers into her, feeling her squeeze around him.

  He was getting hard again. Damn, he’d made love to her three times in the past twenty-four hours. Only teenagers were supposed to be able to recover so fast, right? But he knew the reason, if he cared to admit it.

  “Bella.”

  He kissed her soft mouth, his touch playing between her smooth thighs, stringing her tight as a bow, and then he was ready, over her, in her, and she was crying out, clinging to him, bowing beneath him.

  He tucked his head into the curve of her throat and rode out her orgasm, knowing he wouldn’t follow.

  He didn’t need to.

  She smiled up at him, a lopsided smile, like she didn’t have control of her muscles. The idea, the smile, made him feel like king of the world.

  Christ, he was treading thin ice, here, putting his expectations on her. Just like he’d done with Rebecca.

  She reached up to bring his head down for a kiss, but he broke away.

  “Better get cleaned up so we can find a signal.”

  The confusion couldn’t have been clearer on her face. Yes, he was a bastard. Knowing that, he still pushed off the bed away from her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The ease they’d shared was gone. Isabella sat as far across the truck as she could as they drove out of the forest in search of a cell signal. Alex’s rare grin was again missing, and she had to wonder if it was because they were trying to contact the real world. He seemed to prefer the isolation of the trailer.

  He’d barely spoken since he rolled off the bed and she’d headed for the clean shower. When they got back in the truck, he’d given her the assignment to watch the bars on his phone, to let him know when they got a signal. At least she had something to do to make her feel productive. And to keep her mind off his sudden desire to put distance between them.

  He had the truck radio on, a country-western station. She let the music wash past her, too sad at the emptiness of her lost connection to Alex and her helplessness in finding her son to listen to someone else’s heartbreak.

  She perked up when the news came on. The shuttle launch again.

  “Why are they making such a big deal about this?” she asked, forgetting for a minute he’d ignored her since they’d made love.

  “First Muslim woman on a shuttle. She moved to the US to join the program, left her family behind. A big decision for her.”

  “Hector’s fascinated with rockets. All the noise, I guess. And the idea of seeing stars up close.”

  “If we find him in time, we’ll take him to see the launch.”

  She blinked in surprise. Had he really offered to see her, to see her son, after this was over? Was he talking about a future? His jaw clenched, as if he hadn’t meant to say the kind words aloud, as if he hadn’t meant to talk about a time after they found Hector, a time when she wouldn’t need him anymore.

  The future she was holding her breath trying to reach.

  “He’ll love that.”

  She turned away when he nodded once, brusquely. She studied the scenery out her window, trees giving way to brush and marsh, large birds wandering the side of the road, picking their way through high grass, searching for food, not spooked by the rumbling of the truck’s engine. Strange, since she didn’t see any other cars along this stretch of road. Where was everyone?

  They found a signal about the time they found a gas station. Alex traded her a pair of twenties for the phone.

  “You go in and pay. I’ll pump it when I get done here.” He indicated the phone.

  “I know how to pump gas,” she protested, but he was already moving away, pressing his free hand over his opposite ear as he spoke into the phone. She followed his movement with her gaze, wishing she knew who he was talking to, what he was telling them. Who did he trust with their whereabouts? After last night, she wasn’t sure who she trusted, even Alex’s friend Danes. She didn’t think Alex had told him where they were staying, but he’d turned up at their hotel. Yes, he’d gotten them out of danger, but she had to wonder why he’d been there.

  Alex was still on the phone when she was done pumping gas, so she went inside the tiny gas station to retrieve his change. The headlines announced news on the shuttle launch. Intrigued, Isabella picked it up, then gathered some snacks. She’d forgotten how ready treats were in the United States, there for mere cents.

  So easy, she’d weigh a ton if she didn’t cut back.

  She wondered if Alex would mind if she put on some weight. She wondered what he’d do if she ended up pregnant with his child.

  That thought came out of nowhere, kicking her in the sternum. When had she started thinking about after she got Hector back? That had been her goal for so long, she’d been afraid to consider what would come next.

  She knew better than to expect Alex would be part of her future. He was more likely to bolt once she had Hector safe and sound. For all that he enjoyed her body, she didn’t get the idea that he liked her very much.

  If he didn’t bolt, did she want a man in her life who had a job that put his life at risk? She needed security for her and her child. Alex was not that man.

  It didn’t matter. After this was over, he would no longer be in her life. He didn’t love her. She didn’t love him. She only needed him. She would be wise not to confuse the two.

  She stepped out of the station as he flipped the phone closed and made his way back to the truck. She tossed him a candy bar, which he caught one-handed against his chest.

  “Anything?” she asked.

  He motioned with his head for her to get in the cab. “I was talking to my captain, who’s been in touch with the DEA. They found Pablo in Texas. No sign he has Hector. They have him in custody in San Antonio.”

  “And Carmen?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing yet.”

  “No word on Santiago.”

  “Not yet.” He opened the bottle of Coke she’d passed over. “I’m sorry.”

  “How long before we can start looking again?”

  He tossed the bottle cap on the dashboard and sighed. “Bella, the problem is, we don’t know where to look.”

  “I should have let those men at the hotel take me,” she said, bitter regret choking her wo
rds. They would have taken her to Santiago, and though she’d be back in the life she’d escaped, she would be with her son.

  “What makes you think they would have taken you to your son? Saldana separated you in the first place. I doubt he’s looking to reunite you. You wouldn’t do Hector any good dead.”

  She pushed her hair from her face as her stomach tightened. Santiago would have punished her somehow, she knew. “You don’t know they were going to kill me.”

  Alex snorted. “I’m thinking they weren’t there to court you.”

  She couldn’t let go of the what-if. “But you could have followed and rescued me, and we could have found Hector and this would all be over.”

  He chuckled without humor. “Amazing, the faith you have in me.”

  “You wouldn’t have let him get away with it. Even if he’d killed me, you would have found my son and made sure he was safe.”

  He didn’t say anything, just took a long drink of his Coke. “I’m going to protect you. That’s my first job. All right?”

  “I want Hector to be your priority.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Alex, listen to me.” She turned in her seat and rested her hand on his arm. “He’s just a baby. He needs your protection more than I do. If anything happens to me—”

  The muscle in his jaw jumped but he kept his eyes ahead. “Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

  “I know. I trust you to keep me safe.” How could she think otherwise, after all he’d pulled her through, even after he had the opportunity to walk away back in Honduras? But those men last night had had guns. Santiago had sent men after her to Jorge’s club. People had died. There were no guarantees here. “But if something does, I do not want Hector to go with Santiago or any of his family.”

  Alex shifted his weight, breaking away from her touch.

  “It’s not that I want you to take him,” she said quickly. “Though I’m sure someday you’ll be a good dad and all that. I’d just never ask that of you after you’ve done so much for me. But I want you to see that he’ll get to someone who will love him.”