Terms Of Attraction. Kylie Brant
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Our team will take over as the first security wave. The nationals will answer to us for now. You’ll be in a rotation providing personal protection to de la Reyes at all times.” His gaze raked her form. “I’ve got a vest for you. You’ll wear it every minute you’re on duty. And with the exception of the limited amount of time you’ll spend sleeping, you’ll always be on duty.” He waited a moment before saying quietly, “Regrets?”
“I don’t waste time on regrets.” It was almost true. There was no way to make amends for her past. No reason why she should feel the need to. Most of the time she believed that. But Samuelson had unerringly pressed exactly the right button to have that old guilt rising to the surface again.
“Good to know.”
There was something in his eyes, in his voice that had her glancing at him. Found him watching her, in much the same way he’d been when she’d first wakened. A slow heat suffused her body just recalling that moment. But she knew none of her inner embarrassment showed on her face. She’d learned long ago how to mask her emotions.
“You’re completely still when you sleep.” His voice had gone whisper soft. “Like a porcelain statue. Not even your expression changes. I imagine you’re like that when you’re in position for a shot.”
There was something curiously intimate in knowing that he’d watched her while she slept. No one else had ever had the opportunity, with the exception of her ex. She’d never “slept” with Alex’s birth father. Not in the literal sense.
She could feel heat crawling up her neck. Cael McCabe had a knack for catching her off guard, and that would have to change. She knew enough about him to realize he was a man to seize any vulnerability and turn it to his advantage.
She was already vulnerable enough. The deception she was engaged in made an undeniably dangerous situation even more explosive.
As the jet idled on the runway Ava donned her vest, then sat down to check the weapons she’d been assigned. Two men she didn’t recognize had carried them aboard from one of the three black SUVs parked nearby. Both were beauties, the handgun a nine-millimeter Lugar semiautomatic and a Remington rifle and scope that could have been twins to her SWAT equipment. She strapped on her holster and clipped the pouch of extra ammunition around her waist. Looking around, she saw everyone else similarly equipping themselves, with the exception of de la Reyes, who was speaking on a cell phone. She had protective garb for him, too, before he exited the jet.
She waited patiently as McCabe spoke quietly to the newcomers. They must be the men he said he had on the ground already, gathering intelligence. Switching her attention to the dark waiting vehicles, she surmised McCabe’s plan. The best way to arrange security would be to have the armored cars drive right up to the jet, load the bags and leave without ever entering the airport building. With a VIP like de la Reyes on board, she imagined, that wouldn’t be difficult to arrange.
McCabe and the two strangers got up and headed toward the door. Cael turned back, caught her eye. “Be ready to move out in five minutes.”
She nodded, rising to approach de la Reyes. He was speaking in rapid-fire Spanish, most of which she was able to follow. She was familiar enough with the language to converse with Hispanic victims on the job. She heard him tell whomever he was speaking to that he’d be arriving home tomorrow. So he was following Cael’s orders, at least for now. And from his tone, she thought he was speaking to a woman. McCabe hadn’t mentioned a wife, so maybe a girlfriend.
Glancing out the window, she saw McCabe walking close to the side of one of the SUVs, a long pole in his hand. Checking for bombs on the undercarriage of the vehicle, she noted with approval. He was leaving nothing to chance. The mirror on the other end of the pole would reveal anything hidden beneath. She had no doubt that the interior would be subjected to a similarly rigorous search.
Her spine prickled. His thoroughness was a chilling reminder that de la Reyes hadn’t been delivered to safety once he’d reached his homeland. Just the opposite.
Once de la Reyes ended the conversation, Ava slid into the seat next to him. “You’ll need to put this on before leaving the aircraft.” She handed him his vest. “Just as a precaution.”
The man eyed the garment for a moment before reaching for it. “Mr. McCabe leaves nothing to chance.”
Ava helped him into the vest, expertly fastening it for him. “That quality of his will work in your favor. Your situation calls for caution.”
His expression was rueful. “I am a man of action. But we must take care first that I live to take that action, true?”
“That’s right.”
De la Reyes peered out the window. “How much longer will it be? I have much to do now that I am back.”
“This is all just routine, but as I said, McCabe is a stickler for precautions.”
“So I see,” he murmured, his gaze returning to the window. “He is, as we say in my country, un hombre de la guerra. A man of war, is he not?”
His words jolted her, they so closely resembled her own impression in the briefing just a few short days ago. A warrior. Ready for battle at a moment’s notice.
For the first time she wondered about McCabe’s background. Not his security business, which she’d thoroughly checked out before calling him. But whatever had prepared him for establishing the business. Military, certainly. Special forces, most likely. It would explain that tough edge he maintained that the most civilized of garments or surroundings couldn’t quite mask.
One of the vehicles pulled up to the aircraft steps. Ava led de la Reyes to the doorway. She and Benton flanked the man as they hurried him to the waiting SUV.
McCabe was behind the wheel, Sibbits next to him. Ava had de la Reyes get in the middle with Benton, while she positioned herself in the third seat next to a large leather duffel bag. The president’s men split up into the remaining vehicles. One of McCabe’s operatives rode in each of them. When one SUV pulled out, they followed, and the third brought up the rear.
Cael turned around. He’d donned a pair of mirrored sunglasses. “The gear’s on the seat next to you.”
Ava leaned over to unzip the bag. Spreading it open, she blinked.
It was packed to launch a small war.
There were several grenades, extra weapons and what looked like a portable rocket launcher. There were rifle scopes, binoculars, night-vision goggles and extra ammunition. Ava looked up, caught McCabe’s eyes on her in the rearview mirror. He’d prepared himself for anything.
She withdrew a pair of German-made high-powered binoculars and trained them out the back window. Cordoba was the capital city of San Baltes, surrounded by mountains on three sides and the Pacific Ocean on the other. The natural beauty of the surroundings was in stark contrast to the Third World squalor they traveled through on the highway heading toward the center of the city.
“I’m a big fan of one of your country’s singers. Mirabel Estaban. Have you ever met her?” Benton asked de la Reyes.
“Ah, Senorita Estaban. She is very talented, yes? She sang at my inauguration celebration. Her music is very popular here.”
“I saw her on YouTube. On the Internet? She was wearing this dress cut down to…” Ava glanced up in time to see Sibbits turn in his seat, directing a look at Benton, who spread his hands innocently. “What? It showed her talents, is all I’m saying. Plus she can really sing.”
De la Reyes gave a deep-throated laugh. “You are a man to appreciate a gorgeous woman. I can assure you, my country has many such beauties. Perhaps you will have the opportunity to meet some of them in your stay here.”
Ava returned to her vigil, tuning out the conversation. There were three lanes of traffic traveling in either direction, separated by a median filled with mud, weeds and debris. Their American-made SUVs stood out among the economysized vehicles zipping by them.
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