In the quiet of the morning, speaking Raven's name gave Christian the feeling of . . . home. Wide dark eyes held him in place and the smell of her perfume mingled with the warmth of her skin.
Intoxicating.
His eyes, his senses, took everything in. A lump wedged in his throat.
"Christian." Raven took a guarded step toward him, unsure how she'd be received. She held her breath, then spoke, "I had to come."
Her voice shot tingles over his skin.
Before she said another word, Christian wrapped her in his arms and lowered his lips to hers. Nothing felt so right. He forgot all the reasons for her not to come to Brazil.
Now, none of them mattered.
Dr. Phillips stared at himself in his bathroom mirror, having trouble with the Windsor knot in his tie. He'd done it a million times, but today his nerves were shot. Anxiety raced through him like an electrical charge. He had a bad feeling about today.
"Damn it." He yanked the knot apart again and undid the top button of his white dress shirt to get some air.
His predicament had come to a head. He couldn't go back to change things, and moving forward left him wondering: Move forward to where?
Head down, Phillips shut his eyes and flattened his palms on the bathroom counter. Taking deep breaths, he let the sounds of his family downstairs wash over him, hoping their normalcy over the breakfast table would calm his raw nerves. When he looked up, he caught the movement of a dark shadow behind him ... in the mirror.
"What the hell?" He turned around, eyes wide. Abject fear gripped his throat. "What are you doing here?"
Jasmine Lee inched closer. Her eyes never strayed from his. In a low seductive voice she whispered, "Bet you wished you had added security now, don't you, Doctor?"
His next breath wedged deep in his throat. He swallowed hard. When she reached for his tie, Phillips tensed, grounded where he stood. Like staring into the hypnotic eyes of a cobra about to strike, he couldn't turn away ... or move. His feet were rooted.
"I suppose you are wondering how I knew where you lived." Charboneau's so-called bodyguard tugged at his tie, drawing it tight around his neck. A slow, deliberate move. "You'd be surprised what I know about you, Doc. Mr. Charboneau makes it a habit to know his associates."
"Please . . . my family is downstairs. Don't hurt them," he begged, despising the tremble in his voice.
"That is entirely up to you, as it's always been." Her voice was low and throaty.
Jasmine released the tension from the tie and initiated the knot, not looking at her handiwork. She kept her gaze drilled on him like a weapon. Even though he outweighed her, something in her eyes told him that he wouldn't stand a chance if he resisted.
"Tell me where they have Nicholas Charboneau." She wrapped the wide end of his tie over the narrow part, tugging at his neck. When he didn't answer fast enough, she added, "Surely your family means more to you than keeping their secret."
"Please ... don't do this," he begged. "I don't know who is pulling the strings or where they're keeping Mr. Charboneau. They threatened to kill my family if I didn't cooperate. If I knew more, I'd tell you. I'm not a brave man. Please believe me."
"Oh, that, I do believe, Dr. Phillips. Go on." She pulled one end of the tie under and over, tucking it through a loop. Her eyes never drifted from his.
"Some time back I started getting phone calls. The kind that made my skin crawl. He threatened my family and sent messages home with my kids. It made me sick." Phillips grimaced. The veins at his temple pulsed. "I've never met the guy. All I know is he's local and has a Brazilian accent. He calls me. Communication is a one-way street. I don't have a number for him."
"How is this man connected to Santo ... the one who took Nicholas?"
"I told you the truth when I said I didn't recognize Santo. I have no idea who he is."
She tensed her jaw, not happy. "And the clinic? How did he get you to add the medical facility if you never met? Mr. Charboneau didn't know about it . . . or approve the capital expenditure." Jasmine finished the knot and tightened it, yanking him forward to make her point. She cut off his air with a twist of her fist around the tie. "You better start making sense, Doc."
"Before I got the first call, someone contacted me asking to verify my passport. They said they were from the government and the inspection was just a formality, standard protocol. They wanted to see not only my passport, but for every member of my family." His eyes glazed over, bitterness reflected in them. "Several men in suits came to my office at Genotech, part of the arrangement. When I presented our documents, they confiscated them without giving me a reason. After that, the calls began. Now, even if I arranged for my wife to visit her parents back in the States, I couldn't get them to safety."
A voice muffled outside the bedroom door.
"Honey, your breakfast is getting cold," his wife called from downstairs. "You better get moving."
"Oh, God." His heart thrashed in his chest.
In reflex, Phillips pulled away from Jasmine's grip. His back hit a wall, giving him no place to go. Anticipating his move, she swept a foot under him and toppled him to the floor, using the tie for leverage. His hip hit the tile and sent a jolt of pain down his leg.
"Arrghh."
Before he knew where it came from, Jasmine held a knife to his throat and used his dress tie to pin him down. She shoved a knee to his chest. Her long hair hung over him, shadowing her menacing face.
His lungs burned and his face rushed with heat. She cut off his air, choking him.
"You make a move like that again . . ." She glared with fierce eyes. ". . . you're gonna mess up my tie. And that is no way to repay my . . . good deed."
The tip of the blade stung his neck. A warm trickle rolled along his jaw and the coppery smell of blood filled his senses.
Oh God, she's cut my throat.
"Don't . . . p-please." He forced his arms to the floor, raising them above his head. A complete show of submission. "Just don't . . . hurt my . . . family."
He barely got the words out. No air.
"This silent partner of yours. He must be linked to the police." She loosened her grip on his tie so he could breathe. "We saw you take two homeless men into your lab last night, with the help of local cops. Guess that little point slipped your mind. What else are you leaving out, Doctor?"
Damn it! The man had told him Delacorte and Lee were under surveillance and everything was under control. He should have been warned when they lost them. Phillips saw where he ranked in priority. Rock bottom. All of it was coming undone. And he'ci be caught in the middle ... if he survived.
"Look, I told you. He threatened to kill my family. I couldn't—"
"And what do you think I'm going to do? You think this is a social call? You think I came to shop with your sweet little wife? Attend a PTA meeting?" She pressed on the blade and drew more blood. The necktie tightened, worse than before.
"Okay . . . okay." He gagged. "The guy is connected all over town. He knows everything. And yes, I think he's with the police, even though I can't confirm it. The bastard has you and Delacorte under surveillance."
"Had us under surveillance," she corrected with a wicked smirk. "We ditched his watchful eye last night to do the reconnaissance at Genotech. And as you can see, I avoided his scrutiny this morning to pay a call on you and your lovely family. In case you hadn't noticed, no one is safe."
Jasmine moved the edge of her blade down his cheek. His raspy breath filled the inside of his head, along with the throttling punch of his heart. When she traced the knife under his eye, a tear rolled across his skin and into his hair.
Oh,God... No!
"Now you're gonna tell me what's really happening at the lab . . . and at that clinic. And believe me, I'll know if you leave anything out." She pressed her knee into his chest. "Start talking."
To Jasmine, the setting was as foreign as Brazil, another place for her to feel like an outsider. Dense trees surrounded the split-level home. Suburbia, Brazil-style. Sunlight danced through branches and along pale yellow stucco walls and a red terra cotta roof. A stone terraced walkway led to the front door, a massive portico bordered by flowers.
The picture of domesticity.
She watched the Phillips villa for a long while after his wife took the kids to school with a stop for groceries after. Jasmine overheard the woman's plans when she told Phillips on the front driveway. She had a pretty good idea of the family routine.
All looked normal, whatever that meant.
Jasmine had stuck around to see if the good doctor would stir things up, call for reinforcements. Phillips had plenty of time to make contact and report the incident with her, but no cops showed. Unfortunately, his connected partner remained a mystery.
Her gut instinct? Phillips had been a scared little man, more fearful for his family than himself. Commendable but pathetic. He would have told her anything he knew, and made up the rest, if he thought she'd buy it. No doubt the man behind Nicky's abduction knew this about Phillips and kept him in the dark.
But the meeting with the doctor hadn't been a total waste of time. At least now she knew more about Genotech, the plans beyond Nicky's original purpose.
Jasmine watched Phillips leave his home. He'd changed shirts, favoring a pale blue one without bloodstains. The man could have taken a lesson from her on how to tie a Windsor knot. After he took off in his car, presumably for work, she eventually came out of hiding in the park across the street. She stuck to the treeline and headed through the greenbelt, away from the quiet residential neighborhood.
She glanced at her watch and wondered about Christian. A lazy smile softened her face as images of last night in the dark stirred her mind.
"Raven Mackenzie," she whispered. "You are a lucky woman."
Such memories only reminded her of Nicky. And the heartache of regret returned with a vengeance. She had to remain focused—and strong—for him. She'd catch a cab soon and head back toward town to the Guia Do Espírito.
Hector hadn't been truthful and held something back. She sensed it. And without Christian's interference, or his damnable ethics, she'd get her answers using her own methods. As she told Delacorte, some things had to be done alone. This time the gloves would be off.
Nicky's life depended on it, and nothing else mattered to her.
Nothing.
The first time they made love, Raven couldn't get enough of Christian. Nothing was too hard or too fast for her. His urgency only matched her driving need. As much as she gave herself to him, she let her body demand from him in return.
Christian filled her now, thrusting into her, slow and deep. His skin glistened with a sheen of perspiration. The weight of his muscular body intensified his surges.
"I love you, Raven," he whispered in her ear. "... missed you."
His warm breath on her neck sent a ripple of chills over her body. He had that effect on her. Christian touched her in every way.
As he took her earlobe between his lips, she cried, "I love you too."
The words came out too intense, more a cry of surrender. But when his tongue penetrated her ear, mimicking the steady pounding motion he made inside her, she lost it completely.
Oh, God!
Raven wrapped her legs tight around his hips, using him as leverage to move. The rush of an orgasm gripped deep in her belly and jolted through her body, wave after wave. She flexed the muscles of her legs, toes curled in pure ecstasy.
"Oh . . . Christian," she moaned. Raven held onto him, not letting go.
"Ahhh."
She felt his body react. An urgent release. Christian arched his back and spilled into her, shuddering in violent swells.
"Aarrgghhh."
He jerked in a torrent of spasms, every shove another gift to prolong her pleasure. "Oh . . . Raven."
After his body quieted, he collapsed onto her. Cradling her in his arms, Christian pulled her to his chest and rolled onto his back. He covered her with bed linens and kissed the top of her head, stroking her hair with his fingers.
In this place, Raven had lost all track of time. The flight to Brazil had been a grueling overnighter, especially not knowing how Christian would react to her surprise visit. Now, the rhythm of their panting filled the room, coupled with the musk of sex. And she had her answer. She lay in the crook of his arm, rapt in his love.
"I feel so lucky to love you." His deep voice rumbled through his rib cage, teasing the ear she had pressed to him.
"It's more than luck, Christian. We're . . . blessed." Raven smiled and nestled her cheek to his chest. "It's like I've spent my whole life waiting for you to come into my life. I've never felt so loved."
After a long moment she closed her eyes and listened to the gentle pulse of his heart. A sweet steady rhythm. When she felt certain Christian had drifted off to sleep, she joined him, forgetting the horrible reason that had brought her to Brazil.
Every moment with Christian was a precious gift, like they were living on borrowed time. No matter what tomorrow would bring, she would have this moment alone with him. It might have to be enough to last a lifetime.
In broad daylight, any move Jasmine made held the risk of being spotted by a surveillance team. She had taken great pains to make sure she wasn't followed from the Phillips villa. A half block from Guia Do Espirito, she would soon have what she wanted. Private time with Hector.
Hiding in an alleyway down the street from the Macumba store, she searched the street, her eyes vigilant. No one stood out. No one watched her. Moments earlier she'd tried the back of the shop, hoping an alley might give her anonymity from the street, but the door was locked.
Jasmine didn't want to break in and find the store had customers or other witnesses. And she couldn't afford to be arrested, not now. With her eyes searching the street and every car, she made her final move and meandered onto the sidewalk, heading for the store. Posing as a shopper, she kept an even pace, not wanting to draw attention.