“Well,” Angelique said with a sigh. “That’s done. Guess it’s back to business as usual.”
“I guess so, Angel. I’ll be heading out tomorrow at first light, so crank up that vehicle and let’s get back to the camp. I’ll buy you a beer.”
“Sounds good,” she said, relieved he was leaving in the morning. Doubtless he’d be gone for a week or more, if not longer, which meant she’d be able to sneak off to Rio for some R&R as soon as Shepherd and Able returned. One more day and she’d be free of Acosta’s dominating presence for two whole weeks.
Angelique clenched her teeth as the helicopter set down at a private airfield near Rio International Airport. A limo whisked her away to Marina and Emilio’s estate.
Hector greeted her politely and escorted her to a suite of rooms, insisting she make herself at home. There were one or two other guests here, and she could join them for dinner or he would arrange for her meal to be brought to her room. Angelique opted for eating in her room and relaxing.
She took a few minutes to unpack the necessities from her bag, then crossed to the luxurious bathroom. “Good grief,” Angelique marveled when she saw the oversize spa tub. “I’ve died and gone to bathtub heaven.”
As the tub filled with hot water, Angelique tossed her clothes on the floor. Various scented bath beads filled heavy glass jars on the side of the tub, and she chose a mixture of cinnamon and clove, then tossed a handful in the water. They would help ease the dull ache left over from another night of fucking Mitch Acosta. He’d been in and out of the jungle since the night he and Seth had taken her and had gotten into the habit of awakening her in the most pleasant manner. With a sigh, Angelique stepped into the tub and eased herself down, sinking up to her neck as the fragrant steam rose around her. Laughing, she dunked her head under the water, infusing her hair with the spicy scent.
As the water began to cool, Angelique lathered her body with the rich, creamy soap provided by the estate. It seemed as though layers of dirt and grime dissolved from her skin, though she knew it wasn’t true. It had just been such a long time since she’d had an honest to goodness, luxurious bath or had a chance to wash away the lingering scent of eau de man. Once she was finished in the tub, she stepped into the shower to wash her hair and rinse off the residue from her bath. Tomorrow, she decided, she would spend the day at the beach.
* * * *
Mitch ducked into his room before she could see him. He was here at his own request, having gone through Angelique’s mail to discover the invitation. Since he and Emilio were old friends, he called and asked to be included. He fully intended to share a bed with his Angel while she was here. Intended to make her see that she loved him, no matter what she thought he’d done. Hadn’t that been his wish when he’d taken her like a madman in the jungle? And if he couldn’t get her to admit her feelings for him? Maybe if he fulfilled every fantasy he’d ever had about her, he’d be able to get her off his mind and out of his heart. He’d heard her ask Hector about transportation to the beach, and decided he’d follow her there. He’d seen Angel naked plenty of times, but he’d never seen her in a bathing suit, and he knew it would be a spectacular sight. All those luscious curves stuffed into a Brazilian bikini? If she didn’t start a riot on the beach, it would be a miracle. He could see her in his mind’s eye, a barely there bathing suit covering as little as possible, the sun kissing her lightly golden skin. Her pussy would be nearly bare, sensitive to the brush of material over that soft, soft skin. Would she wear a thong? He shook his head as he doffed his clothes and headed for the shower. He adjusted the water and stepped beneath the spray.
No, she wouldn’t wear a thong. His Angel didn’t mind showing off her body in private, but she’d never wear a thong in public. He closed his eyes as the water pounded him, and grasped his cock as he imagined his beautiful Angel spread out on a bed, her bare pussy glistening with cream as he ate her. He reached for a small bottle of coconut-scented oil, squirted a bit over the head of his dick, and stroked.
Yes
. Angelique on her knees, that fabulous ass in the air. His cock pounding deep and hard inside her tight, wet channel. His balls tightened. She loved being fucked from behind. Loved the way his cock scraped over her G-spot as he drove into her. Loved it when he’d shove a finger deep into her ass just as she was on the verge of coming. He wanted that ass again. Hell, he wanted everything from her.
The memory of her cunt contracting around his dick, the loud yowl that would escape her when he stretched her ass at the very end, was all he needed. His balls drew up and his cock leaped. He came with a shout, cum spurting into the shower spray, his seed swirling down the drain. He sagged against the wall of the shower with a sigh. He would give just about anything to have his seed take hold inside Angelique’s womb and grow. He opened his eyes and shoved off the wall, washing quickly. He stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. Where the fuck had that come from? No way was Mitchell Acosta bringing a child into a world this fucked up. Nuh-uh. No way. Still, as he climbed into bed and sleep took him, he found himself smiling down at a toddler with his dark eyes and his mother’s silky blonde hair. It should have been a nightmare—but it wasn’t.
* * * *
Angelique pulled on a Brazilian microbikini made of hot-pink Lycra and tied a sarong around her hips.
“When in Rome,” she told herself, grabbed her tote, and headed for the limo that would take her to the world-famous beach at Ipanima. It was a short ride, and she left instructions for the driver to return for her in three hours.
She adjusted the back of a teakwood chaise and arranged her belongings on the sand beside her. She applied an SPF thirty sunscreen, pushed her sunglasses up on her nose, opened the book her mother had sent her, and settled back to enjoy the continuing escapades of an inept female bounty hunter. It didn’t take long before she was laughing out loud at the main character’s adventures as she attempted to bring in a bail jumper dressed in a chicken suit. She was so engrossed in the book, she didn’t see the shadow of a very large man cast across her middle.
“Must be a pretty good book. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh like that.”
She gasped, slapped a hand on her heart. “Jesus, Acosta, you scared the crap out of me!” She looked up at him, narrowing her eyes. “What the hell are you doing here? Are you following me?”
“A happy coincidence, Angel. But tell me, were you trying to sneak off on me, make me lose face with my men? But no, you wouldn’t do that.” He grinned, and her heart nearly stopped at his breathtaking smile. “Sorry to disappoint you, Angel, but I’m here to visit friends.”
Angelique snorted. “Huh, you have friends. Who could have guessed?” She gritted her teeth when he pulled up a chaise next to her.
“Don’t be a brat, Angel. I’m just making conversation.”
“Suppose I don’t want to talk to you? It’s bad enough that I have to act as though we share something when we’re back at the compound. Why should I have to do it here? And what are you doing here, anyway? What’s the matter, not making enough money in Colombia? Come here to unload some guns or drugs at one of the local favelas? Or, wait, underage prostitutes?”
“And here I thought we’d come to some kind of understanding over the Amelita García thing. That maybe you’d started to enjoy my company again. That maybe you started to trust me just a little.” His jaw twitched, and his face flushed with anger. “Guess I should have known better. Why do you always assume the worst of me, Angel?”
“What should I assume, that you’re ministering to the poor souls on both sides of the border? Or maybe you’re undercover, working for the Colombian government to infiltrate the guerilla groups and bring peace and democracy to the country?”
“Maybe I am. You’d have no way of knowing, would you?”
Angelique gave him a hard look. “You run with criminals and thugs who sell women and drugs and God only knows what else. You shot a man in cold blood right in front of me. What else would I think?”
“That man was going to rape you, Angel. I saved your ass.” Acosta shrugged and stretched out on the chaise, signaling to a waiter. “But I can see arguing with you won’t help. How about a drink?”
“Thanks, but I have water.” Her heart thumped when he grinned at her.
“You’re on vacation, Angel. Live a little.” Before she could respond, he’d ordered two large mango margaritas. “You’re going to love these.”
“Drink them yourself. I’m going for a swim.”
MITCH NEARLY SWALLOWED his tongue when Angelique stood and tossed her sarong on the chaise. He’d seen her in shorts and a tank top, sweating her ass off in the jungle, but this…this Brazilian bikini was almost too much. Bad enough that he’d had to sit here ogling her breasts behind his mirrored sunglasses, but the bikini bottom she was wearing left nothing to the imagination. He resisted the urge to wrap her in a towel and whisk her off the beach.
Hot-pink material provided moderate coverage of her cleanly waxed mound. Just as he expected, but Jesus, was she completely bare under there or just partially? When she walked toward the water, the tiny triangular swatch of material covering her backside revealed what he’d always known to be a first-rate ass to the rest of the world. He swallowed hard. At least it wasn’t a thong. Cripes! She could crack a walnut, her cheeks were so tight.
Mitch stifled a groan. Dear Lord, to hold that ass in his hands again. To nibble it, to bend her over and take her from behind, watching it flex as his cock pounded into her pussy. He’d been away from her for too long. If he were to be completely honest with himself, even one day away from her was too much. The familiar stir of desire told him to think of something else, anything else, or he’d be walking down the beach with a raging hard-on.
She dived into the face of a wave and bobbed up, soaking-wet blonde hair streaming around her, skin dewy and slick from suntan lotion. She was a woman who drew a man’s attention. And his eyes weren’t the only ones focusing on her.
Who the hell was that approaching her? He frowned. The guy looked familiar, and it took him a few minutes to place him. Alejandro Medina? What was that piece of shit doing in Rio? He should be back in Colombia plotting the overthrow of the new democratic government. Only one reason for the guerilla leader to be in Rio and that was money. Drug money or ransom money. Or both. Lots of rich American tourists in town. Had he stumbled onto a kidnapping plot?
Mitch continued to watch as Angelique floated over the swells, chatting with one of the most dangerous men in the tropics, furious that she was indulging in what she probably considered a harmless flirtation. She knew better than to get cozy with the natives. She was in South America, for Christ’s sake; kidnapping was practically a regional sport! Did she think she was safe just because she was a doctor with an aid organization? She was one of the wealthy Americans Medina fed off. He gritted his teeth as his nemesis escorted Angelique to the shore, raised her hand to his lips. If she’d made plans with that animal, he’d damn well see to it that she broke them.
He kept an eye on Medina as the man made his way down the beach, occasionally looking back as Angelique dived back into the water and swam, her strong, steady strokes taking her well offshore. Shit. He had to put in a call to Emilio, warn him that Medina was in town and to keep a tight rein on Marina. He also needed to call his DEA contact. Something was about to go down; he could smell it. But first he had to do something about Angelique.
* * * *
Angelique spent the next three hours lounging in the sun and catching up on her reading. Acosta had departed while she was swimming, and she told herself it was just as well. She didn’t want anything to do with him anyway. If she spent too much time with the snake, he’d find a way to slither into her bed, and she was on vacation, which meant she didn’t have to accept his protection. Besides, it wasn’t like there weren’t other men interested in her. In fact, the chaise next to her had been occupied most of the afternoon by various young, good-looking men trying to engage her in conversation—and God knew what else. She had shooed them away, one by one, letting them know she wasn’t interested in a fling. She’d become more cautious since her time in Africa, and she wasn’t willing to take chances with her life anymore by hopping into bed with perfect strangers. She gave a mental shrug as she left the beach and climbed into the waiting limo. She needed a shower and some quiet time. Just because she wasn’t interested in those other men didn’t mean she had feelings for Mitch Acosta.
Back at the estate she sighed, grateful for the cool after a long day at the beach. She tossed her tote on the table, then skimmed out of her suit and headed for the shower.
She hummed softly, washing her hair and trying to decide what she wanted to do for dinner this evening. Marina and Emilio had been delayed, so perhaps she’d just eat in her room again. She sighed and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her hair before quickly toweling off. Damn, she’d left her moisturizer in her cosmetics bag.
She grabbed the cotton bathrobe hooked on the bathroom door and stepped out, shrieking at the sight of a man relaxing on her bed.
“Jesus, Acosta! How the hell did you get in my room?”
God, that cocky grin just drove her wild. Straight, white teeth, full lips, melty chocolate eyes that sparkled with mischief.
“I’m a guest here, just like you, Angel. You should learn to lock your doors if you don’t want people coming in. Looking for this?” He held the bottle of body lotion. “I’d be happy to rub some on your back for you. Or anywhere else, for that matter.”
Angelique stomped over to the bed and snatched the lotion from his hand.
“What are you doing in my room?”
“I saw you talking to some guy earlier and thought maybe I should remind you to be careful who you trust. People are abducted from Brazil, you know. Not like they are from other countries, but it’s not unheard of. Can’t be too careful socializing with the natives.”