Her Reluctant Hero: A Romantic Suspense Boxed Set Read online

  Apparently he understood her, because he pointed in the right direction. But she could sense his frustration. She would have to get him off, but leave him wanting more so he’d take her back to the mansion.

  A hand clamped over her mouth as she approached the women’s restroom and a hard body propelled her forward through the door. She struggled for balance, impossible in the shoes and she whipped her head up.

  And met Alex’s eyes in the mirror in front of her.

  “Alex,” she gasped when he released her, her heart swelling, only to be deflated by suspicion. She wheeled on him. “You followed me?”

  His eyes were black, his brow furrowed. “Keep it down. What the hell do you think you’re doing out there?”

  She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “You know why I’m here.”

  “I know why you’re here, but not here.” He pointed to the floor to emphasize this particular place.

  God, he looked wonderful, in a black tank top that clung to his muscles, baggy khaki pants. But everything about him screamed narc. “How did you get in?”

  “This isn’t my first time following someone,” he said.

  “You’d tell me but then you’d have to kill me?”

  “Something like that.” He eased back from her just a bit. “Quit changing the subject. Why are you seducing the security guard?”

  “How did you—?”

  “Like I said, not my first time. He’s not there, Goddess.”

  A moment passed before she realized he meant Hector. “Do you know where he is?” she asked, not daring to hope.

  “Not yet, but Jesus, Bella, you’re playing with fire out there. God, look at you. Every man can see every detail of your body.” His gaze moved over her figure. “The way you’re dancing him like a pole—”

  She didn’t want to hear those words from him. “He could know where Hector is.”

  “You think Santiago keeps him in the loop?” Alex scowled. “We’ve got to get you out of here without your friend seeing.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes, blinding her. “If Hector’s not there, Alex, I don’t know where else to look.”

  Sympathy softened his expression for a split second before the door swung in. Isabella barely registered the chatter of female voices before Alex leaned in, parting her legs with his thigh, and kissed her, hot and hard.

  She found her breath but not her sense and curled her fingers behind his head, holding him down to her, kissing him back hungrily, darting her tongue in for a taste of him. Scotch this time, and he wasn’t drunk with it, though he was acting strangely.

  Before she could think about it, his hand slid inside the front of her dress, curving over her breast, his thumb rubbing over her nipple before he released the hook, letting the dress fall open.

  Then, as he started to move against her, she got it. He wanted the intruders to think he was fucking her in the restroom, to explain his presence.

  Asshole.

  He nipped at her lip with his teeth, to warn her, she knew, and she gave a throaty moan. His muscles quivered beneath her touch as she explored him, before gripping his ass and grinding against him.

  This time he moaned, and released her mouth, her breast, to brace himself on the sink as he thrust against her, again and again, as hard as he’d been that night in Tegucigalpa.

  She opened her eyes to see the door swing shut. The women had gone.

  She shoved at his shoulders and he staggered back a step, his eyes dark with desire. He struggled to extinguish it as she closed her dress and she wasn’t sure why his effort hurt so much.

  “You can swear to me my son is not in that house, and no one in that house can help me find him?” she asked, her own voice husky, which lit another little flare of interest in Alex’s eyes.

  “I have it on the best knowledge he’s not in there.”

  “Someone you trust?” He didn’t trust anyone.

  “I’ve seen enough intelligence gathered on the house to draw my own conclusions.”

  “Then what do we do?”

  “We get out of here without Sasquatch seeing us, and we go from there.”

  Not much of a plan, but she hadn’t had much of one when she came to Miami. She was at square one again.

  “All right. Let’s go.”

  Isabella strode over to the door, and Alex took a deep breath to clear his head. His ploy had seemed like a good idea at the time, but it hadn’t been acting, on either of their parts. If he’d been able to get his zipper down, he would have been fucking her for real.

  In a bathroom.

  When she was only looking for her son.

  Like he needed proof he was a bastard.

  When she opened the door, he heard a woman on the other side saying, “Some woman is in there fucking her boyfriend,” and he reached the door in time to scoop an arm around Isabella’s waist, tuck her against him. He didn’t want her recognized by anyone out there. He eased out into the narrow hallway, putting his body between the woman and Isabella, flashing the woman his best smile. Beside him, Isabella gasped.

  The woman was talking to Sasquatch, who saw Isabella right away, narrowed his eyes and set his teeth when he saw Alex’s arm around her.

  Crap.

  Alex pivoted Isabella in the opposite direction and stepped between her and Sasquatch. He remembered the heels she was wearing and knew she’d need time to get away in those things. He cursed himself for not noticing if there was an exit in that direction.

  The man gave Alex a dismissive glare, and called after Bella. Only he didn’t use her real name, called her something like Bethany. Smart girl. No connections.

  Alex wanted to look over his shoulder, make sure she was heading out, but he didn’t dare take his eyes from the behemoth bellowing her alias. Alex played drunk, weaving in front of Henry one way, then the other, as the man tried to pass him to get to Isabella.

  “Dude.” Alex laughed drunkenly, holding up his hands in apology. His eyes narrowed, not missing anything. Like the frustration on Henry’s face.

  Henry shoved him out of the way and bolted past him to Isabella, who, Jesus, was coming back this way, her eyes huge, and damn, he thought he could see her knees shaking in that short dress.

  “I’m sorry, Henry, I have to go. My brother came to find me,” she was babbling.

  “Her brother?” demanded the girl Henry had been talking to. “She was screwing her brother?”

  God save him from loud-mouthed women. Alex ducked past Henry, grabbed Isabella’s arm, and started to run. With a roar, the security guard followed. Alex pushed Isabella ahead of him, putting his body between hers and danger, through the crowded hallway, into the club, onto the dance floor. He could feel her heart hammering.

  She was going to fall. Only his hands on her waist kept her upright, only his pressure on her kept her moving forward through the crowd that didn’t want to part for her, that cast her dirty looks she caught in her peripheral vision because he was pushing her, but holding her up at the same time.

  She realized she was heading toward the very alcove she’d been trying to avoid earlier, and she tried to steer away, but the crowd, and Alex, wouldn’t let her.

  Even though she was looking straight into Santiago Saldana’s light eyes.

  Chapter Seven

  What the hell? She’d stopped on a dime, and he couldn’t make her move forward. Afraid to loosen his hold—afraid she might drift away in this crowd—he edged in front of her and tugged.

  She didn’t move.

  “Bella.”

  Over his shoulder, he saw Henry approaching fast, head and shoulders above the rest of the crowd.

  “Santiago’s here.” But she wasn’t looking behind her. She stared straight ahead.

  “Yeah, he’s almost here.” Did she think he didn’t see the giant gaining on them? “Go.”

  “No, Santiago,” she said, her voice almost a squeak, and she turned then, her eyes huge and round.

  His heart kicked and he glanced over his s
houlder. Christ. And him without a weapon, without backup. He whipped around to the direction she’d been looking, and saw nothing. An empty private booth.

  “You’re imagining it,” he said, but had the creeping suspicion she wasn’t. Still, he couldn’t protect her here. “We’ve got to go.”

  Something he said reached her and he propelled her forward, though she kept looking over her shoulder at that alcove. Knowing he was probably bruising the soft skin of her arm, he shoved her toward the door, not looking to see if Henry was on their tail. He maneuvered them across the lot toward his truck, unlocking it with the remote and swinging her up even as he opened the door, then shoved her over and climbed in after her. He jammed the key in the ignition and gunned the engine before he looked up to see Henry charging from the front door, followed by two others, all with guns.

  He swore, then shouted, “Get down,” as he shifted into gear and peeled away from the curb, into the street, swerving to avoid hitting an oncoming car before punching the accelerator.

  He made two turns before he looked at Isabella, still crouched on the floor. “You can get up now.”

  When she did, he could damn near feel her shaking across the cab.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She nodded, but her hands trembled as she buckled herself in.

  “Does Henry know where you’re staying?”

  She shook her head, pushed her hair back from her face. “I told him I was staying with a friend.”

  He turned toward her hotel and she slid him a surprised look.

  “How long were you following me?” she asked suspiciously.

  “I picked up your trail before you rented your Nissan.” A thought occurred to him and he scowled. “If this guy wants to find you bad enough, he could.”

  “So I suppose it’s a good thing I registered in a different hotel with my credit card and paid cash for the one I’m staying in.”

  He grinned despite himself. But instead of praising her, he said, “Nice place?”

  She grinned back. “Oh, yeah.”

  Alex whistled low when he entered the luxurious room with the magnificent view of Miami. He headed for the window and opened the door to the balcony, then stepped outside. Isabella latched the door, knowing it wouldn’t do much good against Santiago if he found out where she was and really wanted to come after her.

  But Alex was here now, and just knowing that made her feel safer than it should. The idea that he’d followed her to Miami after the way he’d left her in the Honduras hotel room buoyed her spirits. He’d gotten her out of the jungle. He would help her find her son.

  She buried the romantic notions that wanted to accompany the realization he’d come for her. Giving into those had gotten her into trouble in the past. Alex was bound to have an ulterior motive.

  She loosened the tie of her dress and turned into the marble tiled bathroom. “I’m going to shower,” she called to Alex and closed the door before he could answer.

  She didn’t lock it. He could come in if he wanted to. As battered as she was feeling, she would welcome him. He’d saved her from Santiago, though she wasn’t sure he believed that.

  She turned the gold fixtures till steaming water poured out, ducked under to wash the sweat and nerves away, the fear and the arousal.

  When she stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in the plush robe the hotel provided, Alex was stretched out on her king-sized bed, propped against the headboard, watching baseball with his bare feet on the mattress, holding a beer from the minifridge.

  “My hero,” she murmured, and he smirked.

  So what had all that bluster in the jungle been about? Did the situation then have him scared, stressed, what? Or did he just think he was going to get some tonight?

  Her body wouldn’t mind. Her blood hummed even ten feet away from him. Alone in a room, all the privacy they could ask for. But her brain wouldn’t settle down.

  “Alex.” She sat on the edge of the bed, making sure she left a safe distance from him. “If Hector isn’t with Santiago’s cousin, where could he be? Where do we look next?”

  Alex muted the TV and sat up, serious now.

  “What made you think Hector was there?” he asked.

  “Santiago said he sent him to his cousin’s.”

  “You believed him.”

  She drew back. “He was taking my son from me, sending him to a place I had no dream of being able to get to. Why wouldn’t I believe him?”

  Some of the tension drained from him. “How did you find the address?”

  “I paid for the information. I was so sure.” Despair pushed her voice out in a wail.

  “Okay, okay, calm down.” He held out his hands. “I can look into it, see what kind of connections he has in the States. You gave the DEA a list of names, the people who’d left the compound. We can follow any leads from that.”

  Everything collapsed inside her. “How long will that take?” She could barely force the words out.

  “I can’t promise it will be overnight, but we won’t stop till we find him.”

  She looked at him with tears in her eyes. “Why would you do this for me? This isn’t your job.”

  She watched him draw back into himself. There was more to this than he was letting on. She’d been right to hold back those rescue fantasies.

  “Why did you show up at the club? Why are you following me?”

  “We need Saldana.”

  She’d thought she couldn’t drop farther. He was here because of Santiago. She’d been so glad to see him, so glad to touch him, to lean on him, and he was here to use her.

  Well, she’d use him as well. He would find her son for her.

  “Make the calls,” she said. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get my son back.” She knew the price he’d ask. It wouldn’t be a hardship.

  “I’ll call. But first.” He leaned over her, bracing his arms on either side of her hips. “I’m going to use your shower.” He straightened and headed for the bathroom.

  Her heart took a long time to stop pounding.

  Alex felt more human as he walked out of the bathroom in his skivvies. He’d taken care of the arousal that plagued him every moment he was with her.

  There she was, curled up in bed reading a romance novel with a castle and a knight on the cover, for God’s sake, and she had kittens on her pajamas. Kittens and rainbows.

  Pajamas.

  Kittens.

  Rainbows.

  What the hell? Where was the seductress? He needed the seductress, needed the shield. He didn’t know what to do with this innocent girl.

  She looked up, blinked to focus.

  “How old are you?” he asked suddenly. She was a mother, but that didn’t mean much.

  “Twenty-four.”

  He relaxed a little, then looked at the bed. She tucked a bookmark into her book, turned toward him and reached for the buttons of her kitten pajamas, her eyes focused on his face.

  “What are you doing?” he choked.

  “I told you I’d do anything to bring my son home.”

  He took a step back. “I won’t screw you in payment for getting to your son. I’m not that big of an asshole.”

  She frowned and her hand stilled. “But, the bed.”

  “It’s a big bed.” He hoped. “I’m not going to attack you in your sleep.”

  “I know.” But she seemed to hold her breath while he walked around to the other side, tugged back the covers and climbed in. When he glanced over, she seemed to have drawn into herself, gotten smaller.

  “Are you scared of me?”

  “No.”

  She almost sounded sure.

  “I know you won’t make me do anything I don’t want to do.” She gave a soft laugh, “But I know you can make me want to do things.”

  He turned toward her on his side. She wanted him. The knowledge was enough to give him a big…ego. “Really?”

  She looked over her shoulder at him, but he could feel her nearly vibrate with nerves. �
��Just like that.”

  “Just like that.” He chuckled. “You going to turn the light out soon?”

  “Is it keeping you up?”

  No, that wasn’t what was keeping him up. The curve of her body beneath the covers, the warmth of her, the scent of her, that did it. “I can sleep through anything,” he said.

  “Okay. If you don’t mind, I’ll read a little more.”

  He closed his eyes. It was damned domestic, is what it was. Nice. His eyes popped open at the thought.

  “Alex? Are you asleep?”

  He hadn’t thought he was, but the room was dark now, and he didn’t remember Isabella turning off the lights.

  “Yeah.” He was pretty sure his croaky voice gave him away. “What? Bad dream?”

  “I haven’t been to sleep yet.”

  “What do you need, Goddess?”

  “Do you have kids?”

  Her voice in the dark was soft, young, none of the husky tone or crisp banter he was accustomed to hearing. He rolled onto his back.

  “No. No kids.”

  “Do you wish you did?”

  “I’m not home much. Wouldn’t be any good for them.”

  “Boys need their daddies,” she said, but her tone was more wistful than truthful.

  He wouldn’t know. There’d been no father figure in his life till too late. She hadn’t been looking for a response from him.

  “I love being a mom.” Warmth infused her voice, reached across the bed to him, felt like she’d moved closer. “I never had brothers or sisters, so I wasn’t around babies much. I learned everything with Hector. I mean, I wasn’t totally on my own. One of Santiago’s housekeepers had something like six kids, and she helped me, but everything I learned about taking care of him made me stronger.”

  Goddamn, he wanted to reach across the bed, to the girl who’d been alone in the compound, away from her family. Where had her family been? Had she wanted them, or had she run away from them? Maybe her parents hadn’t been any better than his own.

  “He was talking before he was two, in two languages, and he already knew his alphabet.”