Chapter Five
Ray consoled herself with the fact that she could see the waistband of Eli’s boxers. She didn’t think she could have gotten into the bed if he’d been bare-ass naked.
Eli looked up at where she stood in the bathroom doorway. He took note of the new pajamas but kept whatever opinion he had to himself.
Still she stood there, and he sighed. “Would you feel better if I slept on the floor?”
That brought her out of her stupor. “Don’t be stupid. We both need a good night’s sleep.” After all, she told herself, she’d slept in the open with men, side by side, and she’d shared tents when they were available. This would be no different. She tried to convince herself, but the effort was wasted because her voice trembled when she said, “I don’t have a problem with it if you don’t.”
Watching her, alert to her every move, Eli lifted the covers and waited.
It was a good thing she was a sturdy woman in good health, with the way her heart punched inside her chest. Utilizing every ounce of control she possessed, Ray walked to the bed and slipped in beside him.
Eli waited only until she lay back, her arms propped behind her head, before he dropped the covers over her and turned off the light.
The darkness brought out her other senses with the acuity of a predator.
She could smell him, feel the heat of his body seeping over to her, weakening her muscles, penetrating deep inside her.
And she could hear him breathing, light, even breaths.
She knew without being able to see that he was propped on one elbow, staring toward her. An invisible fist tightened on her lungs, then in a husky whisper, his voice a caress, he said, “Good night, Ray Jean. Sleep well.”
Eli wasn’t prepared for the impact of her body landing full against his, or her thumb pressing into his vocals.
“I told you never to call me that.”
If he wasn’t strangling, it would have been funny. Lying still with the shock of her breasts squashed to his bare chest, the warm, smooth weight of her inner thigh against his hip, Eli barely noticed the menace in her tone. “Ray?” he rasped, faking confusion to keep her exactly where she was a bit longer.
“You called me Ray Jean,” she snarled in a low, mean voice. “I warned you not to.” Her breath fanned his mouth and her eyes were a bright glimmer in the dark room, only inches from his. She was in full mercenary mode—and damn, he had a boner.
Very slowly, Eli brought his hands up to frame her waist. She was narrow, firm; his thumbs nearly touched over her midriff, his fingers meeting over her spine.
As hot as he suddenly felt, he still had to struggle to keep from laughing. He found her defense of her name ludicrous—and endearing. Why? What significance did the name hold for her? He wanted to ask, but that’d fall into the category of personal stuff and he didn’t want to scare her off. Other than not being able to breathe, he loved feeling her so close. Given a choice, he’d have kept her right there all night.
“You’re choking me, Ray.” His voice was rough with the pressure she exerted on his throat.
Ray jerked, inadvertently tightening her hold. As if she’d only then realized what she was doing, her eyes widened, apparent even in the darkness of the unlit room. By small degrees, her fingers loosened and she started to pull away. Eli’s grip on her waist stopped her.
“Eli?”
“Hmmm?” It would be so easy to slip his fingers beneath the pajama top and encounter warm skin.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Though she spoke in a mere whisper, he heard the fury, and the confusion. She’d been comfortable enough challenging him physically, but sexually she was at a loss.
“Me?” He tried to sound innocent. “All I did was say good night and you attacked me.”
She remained stonily silent, awaiting her release. Eli moved his fingers in a subtle caress, allowing his thumbs to move tantalizingly close to the soft fullness of her breasts.
It was very tempting . . . No, better not, he decided. She was rigid enough to break already. “Why, Ray? Why are you so touchy about your name?”
“Let. Go.”
He didn’t want to. He wanted to pull her down flush against him, to feel all that vital energy directed at him. He wanted to take her mouth and . . .
“Don’t make me hurt you, Eli.”
He couldn’t help himself. The situation was so novel, and she was so deadly serious in her determination that he chuckled.
Bad idea.
Her hand moved so fast, he barely caught it in time. But he did catch it. The other moved, too, and he grabbed it as well, keeping both her wrists securely held. Ha. Now what would she do?
In the next instant, her forehead smacked against his. The blow was hard enough to ring curses from him and instantly gave her the release she’d requested.
She started to scramble to the side, saying, “You deserved that, Eli. I told you not to—”
Her words were cut short as Eli reacted, turning fast and hard, flipping her onto her stomach beneath him. Before she could counter the move, he had her pinned down. His ears were still ringing and colorful stars danced before his eyes. Had she meant to knock him out?
It seemed probable—and hilarious. He was in bed with a woman he wanted more than any other he’d known, and she had tried to scramble his brains.
He covered her completely, the weight of his big body crushing her smaller frame into the mattress. His fingers wrapped firmly but gently around her wrists, not giving her a chance to get hold of his digits, trapping her arms above her head. His legs were between hers—a nice position, that—totally immobilizing her. He pressed his face into her shoulder, which also held her face down so she couldn’t bite him.
They were both breathing hard.
Without even meaning to, Eli pressed his hips inward, nudging his swollen cock against her firm buttocks, groaning at the feel of her, her softness, the carnality of their positions.
If they were naked, he’d be inside her right now.
Damn. He didn’t want to frighten or hurt her, but he needed a moment to rid himself of the pounding in his head, as well as the insistent throb in his groin, before he let her loose. She didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, and he started to worry. “Are you always so physical, Ray?”
When she didn’t answer, he wrongly assumed her silence was shock.
“Ray? Honey, you okay?”
Her voice was cold, remote, and beyond furious when she growled, “I’m not your honey.”
Relief brought back his amusement. “Such a nasty temper,” he chided. That had her struggling anew, which only caused her rounded behind to push into him again. Eli was caught between the pain in his head and the pleasure her movements brought him.
But given her current mood, pleasure wasn’t too wise. “Settle down, Ray.”
“Get off of me.”
A note of hysteria tinged her command. She wasn’t used to anyone else having the upper hand.
He wondered how many times a man had done this to her?
The thought of someone else making love to her, taking her from behind, made his possessive urges riot. But the thought of a man holding her down as a true captive, intent on hurting her, made him want to kill the faceless bastard.
He closed his eyes, and though he knew she hated it, he hugged himself closer to her. “Not yet, honey. You’d only lay me low again, and my brains can’t take much more. I think I’ll wait until you forgive me for calling you Ray Jean. And until you explain why you’re so touchy about your name.”
Her silence sounded with the same effect as a scream. Hurting for her, though he wasn’t certain why, Eli lowered his head until his breath fanned her nape. It was a risk, getting that close to her. His little soldier knew how to defend herself, and at the moment, she might not mind causing him real pain. On the other hand, he’d rather be shot than hurt her. So if she wanted to, she could probably get loose.
Did that mean she didn’t want to?
“What’s the matter, Ray? Talk to me, please.”
He felt her shuddering breath. Not tears, because she would never let herself cry. He kissed her temple.
“Why do you care?”
He countered that with: “Why would you think I shouldn’t care?”
Her forehead dropped to the mattress; her muscles, tensed and coiled only moments before, went lax. Several seconds passed before she spoke. Her defeated voice was muffled by the covers. “My aunt . . . used to call me Ray Jean, just to remind me that I was female.”
Unable to resist, Eli rubbed his nose against her neck. “She was actually in doubt?”
Her shrug jarred the bed. “She just didn’t think I was very ladylike, and she hated that—she hated me. She tried to insist I curl my hair, that I wear dresses and makeup. Whenever I did, she made fun of me for doing it wrong.”
Eli pressed his face into her neck and just held her.
“She ridiculed the way I walked, the way I talked. Everything. Her prissy daughters were held up as a constant example of what I wasn’t.”
Understanding came, and with it, an ache in his heart that nearly did him in. “So you became just the opposite?”
She made a sound of disgust. “Don’t be an imbecile, Eli.”
He smiled at the insult. No woman had ever called him names before. “Sorry.”
“I was already the opposite. No matter how my aunt pushed, I couldn’t be like them. It’s just not me.”
Eli breathed in the light, natural fragrance of her. Her wrists where he held her were small, the skin silky smooth. He could feel the contours of her body, the dip of her waist, the rise of her rump. God, he wanted her in so many ways. He wanted to hold her, to f*ck her and make love to her and talk to her all night.
He also wanted her to trust him. “I think,” he whispered, forcing the words out despite his raging lust, “that you’re about as much as any woman can be.”
Ray didn’t say anything. She held completely still beneath him and that bothered him more than her curses or insults ever could.
When the silence stretched out uncomfortably, Eli said, “I’m sorry for upsetting you.”
She still didn’t answer.
“Ray?”
In a small voice very unlike her usual commanding tone, Ray admitted, “I’m not used to someone getting the best of me. It’s . . . disconcerting.”
Eli wasn’t certain, but he thought he detected a touch of admiration in her tone. It pleased him. “I am a lot bigger, Ray. And stronger.”
She shook her head, and her hair brushed against his jaw and chin. “It’s not that. I could still take you.”
Eli laughed outright. “You think so, do you?”
“I know so.”
“Then what happened?” He settled himself more firmly against her, spreading his legs a little, which forced hers wider, too. “Why are you beneath me instead of the other way around?”
She stiffened. “If you’re going to be a jerk about it, I’ll admit that I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Really?” She was so full of surprises. “What do you call choking me?”
She huffed. “It didn’t shut you up, did it? I could have put you out then, but I didn’t.”
The idea that she might have held back intrigued him. “Why not, Ray?” Did her restraint mean she cared?
“The agency would frown on it.”
He hadn’t laughed so much in a long time. “That’s your only reason, huh? Well, not to brag, you understand, but I held back, too.” Her head came up in surprise, affording him the chance to kiss her cheek. With his mouth still touching her, he said, “You may as well know there’s no way you could ever best me. No holds barred, I’d come out on top.” And he was just horny enough to press into her and whisper, “Again.”
“That cocky attitude is going to get you into trouble.” She looked over her shoulder to add, “Next time I won’t concern myself with returning you whole hide.”
“So we’re to battle it out, huh? I’ll look forward to your efforts, Ray. Not that it’ll change the out-come.”
Ray snorted in derision. “You want me to believe you’d actually fight me?”
He nibbled on her ear. She had very small, delicate ears, and his control weakened by the moment. “No. But I think I could appreciate holding you beneath me for a nice long time. What do you think, Ray? Is that threat incentive enough for you to think twice before attacking me again?”
Fury, or maybe interest, deepened her breathing. Eli couldn’t tell which. “No.”
She had guts and gumption, and he admired both. “Good. I’m glad.”
“You’re nuts is what you are,” she grumbled. “Now will you get off? We need to get some sleep.”
“If you promise to let bygones be bygones.”
“All right.” A heartbeat passed and she added, “For now.”
Very slowly, Eli removed his weight and rolled to the side. He waited until Ray had resettled herself, her body stiff beside his. He wanted to hug her, but knew better than to even try. “Good night. Ray.”
He was pleased when she returned grudgingly, her words barely audible, “Good night, Eli.”
Despite the heat in his body and the turmoil of his mind, he relaxed with a smile. Ray was unbelievably, delightfully unique from any person he’d ever known, especially the women. With all her outspokenness and arrogance, she was somehow more real. And he already looked forward to spending time with her, without the restrictions of familial duty and worry occupying his thoughts.
When his brother was back home where he belonged, he’d give Ray all his attention.
He was determined to have her, one way or another.
Bored but too restless to sleep, Jeremy stirred in the small confines of his hut. His own body odor, ripe as month-old fruit, rose to assault his nose. Good God, he needed a bath. The one time he’d mentioned it, though, the guerillas had offered to let him use the stream to wash. Of course, he’d refused. Hell, there were leeches in there. He’d seen some of the men—fastidious bastards who bathed every day—peeling the slimy, blood-bloated things off their legs, arms, even their groins.
Jeremy’s stomach jolted with the horrible memory. No thank you. They were all barbarians, forcing him through inhuman conditions. They’d taken him, so they should provide proper means of bathing.
His once comfortable, custom-tailored shirt had gotten dirty during their trip to the make-do prison, thanks to miles of foot travel. The men had tried to “exchange” it for a roughly woven tunic. Right. Like they thought he’d take a nickle’s worth of coarse cloth to replace a shirt that cost more than their damn village.
He’d accused them of only wanting to steal it. That hadn’t gotten him a better shirt. Just the opposite. His soiled shirt had been tossed back at him and not once since had they offered him another.
Unreasonable bastards.
Now everything he wore was grimy with filth and sticky with his own sweat. He’d tried demanding that someone wash his clothes, but most of the guards didn’t understand his English and he didn’t understand their Spanish.
He shook his head in disgust, but no one noticed. He was all alone. For the most part, they left him that way. Given how he smelled, he hardly blamed them for that.
If only he hadn’t lost his camera back at that damn dive where he’d stupidly gotten drunk. Without the photos he’d already taken, the trip was an entire waste. Since he knew Eli was going to be majorly pissed once he got him out of there, he’d hoped to at least salvage the awesome shots he’d taken. They’d go a long way toward justifying the sneaky lies he’d told and maybe, just maybe, save his ass.
His self-pitying thoughts got distracted when something rustled in the dry brush. Jeremy went stock still, not even daring to breathe. Moving only his eyes, he peered off the side of his narrow cot.
Oh shit. Through the rickety floor slats, he could easily see the ground below. All the casitas were on platforms, he suspected to keep them dry from sudden downpours. Though the rainwater quickly flowed into the underground caves, it also brought out the insects. And here in Mataya, they had some really nasty bugs.
Like the gargantuan tarantula creeping across the dirt below him.
Jeremy’s eyes widened like saucers to see better in the shadowy light of dusk. Oh God, he hated creepy bugs, most especially big hairy ones the size of his damn fist. The last time Ferdinand, as he’d named the hideous thing, had crawled from his hole, Jeremy had jumped up screaming, practically climbing the walls. The ragtag soldiers had all come rushing, determined to protect their prisoner.
When they saw he was freaked out over the spider—who in their right mind called that a mere spider?—they’d roared with hilarity, falling down, pointing, wiping tears of mirth from their dark faces.
Still clinging to the casita walls, Jeremy had been left feeling like an idiot.
Even without a grasp of Spanish, Jeremy understood when one of the guards claimed he squealed like a little girl. Another mocked him by dancing around the yard, carrying on in a falsetto screech on his tiptoes.
Stung with humiliation, Jeremy had picked up rocks and flung them. How dare they treat him like that? Back home, as heir to the Connorses’ estates, he got respect and admiration from everyone.
The guerillas had walked away grinning, treating him like a petulant little boy.
When the next man brought him his lunch of beans, he’d explained in broken English that only when tarantulas were scared or put on the defensive did they attack with their poisonous bite or project their spiny hairs.
God forbid the damn thing should feel defensive, so Jeremy didn’t move. Luckily, after a while, it went away. He breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed back against the wall. When he got out of here, he was going to make them all pay for their crude treatment. He wasn’t used to being dirty, to eating fried beans, or being taunted with insects.
With nothing else to do, he moved to look out the narrow window slit, taking in the view of the surrounding jungle. If he had his camera, he’d be snapping one roll of film after another.
The small hidden camp was a few miles from the outskirts of the village. Sitting atop a hill, they overlooked the Vaca Plateau. Mountains could be seen on the horizon, with tall trees spreading their bare branches like veins across the gray sky. At the base of the mountains, the jungle expanded, looking lush and filled with animal sounds. The howler monkeys were particularly obnoxious and often kept him awake. He remembered a time when he’d seen them at the zoo and thought they were cute.
The little bastards drove him crazy now with their deep-throated roars at dawn.
Tiny frogs, more poisonous than the tarantula, and night-hunting cats made the jungle a horrific place. So many times he could have escaped, because he wasn’t watched that closely. But where would he go, other than into that dense jungle where he’d no doubt fall to the bottom of the damn food chain?
No, he’d wait. Eli would come, Jeremy knew that.
What Eli would do after the rescue was what kept Jeremy awake at nights. His brother wasn’t going to be happy, and Eli in a rage was ten times more intimidating than any band of guerillas could be.
Ray awakened slowly—then went still.
She’d done it again! She’d gone sound asleep when she absolutely shouldn’t have. She almost never slept that hard, definitely not when on an assignment. Yet she’d passed out for the duration and couldn’t remember moving all night.
But she had moved.
If her body wasn’t lying to her, and she was pretty sure it wasn’t, she was now sprawled over Eli, her face cushioned against his hairy chest, her thigh resting over his lap. He had morning wood. After camping out with guys plenty of times, she understood that predicament—but she’d never been personally involved with it.
“Hey.”
His soft greeting nearly stopped her heart. Now what?
“I know you’re awake, Ray.” His fingers threaded through her hair and rubbed her scalp.
How did this keep happening to her? It was as if her body just sought his out, drawn to him like a lodestone. Had he awakened when she crawled on top?
Did he help get her there?
She didn’t move. She couldn’t move. In so many places, she touched him. Skin on skin. Heartbeat to heartbeat. He was hot, his flesh taut. Her breathing hitched in primal awareness. When he raised his other hand to tip up her chin, she felt the muscles in his chest and abdomen flex, and even that sent a thrill coursing through her.
She had no choice but to look at him.
Big mistake. Eli’s eyes plainly showed his thoughts, and once she knew what he was thinking, she thought it, too.
His beard shadow was more noticeable this morning, giving him a piratical appearance that seemed darkly appealing and far too suitable to the type of man she now knew him to be. Ray watched his gaze drop to her mouth and she unconsciously licked her lips while struggling for a clear thought.
Eli’s fingers gripped her skull, holding her head still as he slowly leaned forward. His intent was obvious.
He was going to kiss her.
It was all the inducement Ray needed. She practically sprang from the bed, ruffled, confused, far too warm. Her normally agile limbs refused to work correctly. She got one foot caught in the sheet, staggered, righted herself. Once out of the bed, she tried to look blasé, but hiding her turbulent emotions and racing heartbeat wasn’t easy.
Eli watched her like a hawk preparing to scoop up a mouse.
That image didn’t sit well with her, so she forced a chuckle. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to hog the bed.” She ran her fingers through her tangled bangs, inadvertently making them more tangled. “I, uh, don’t usually sleep like the dead.”
“I didn’t mind.”
Ray had to turn her back to his deep, softly spoken words. God, she felt his husky voice reverberate through her entire body, settling like a weight in her lower belly. She resisted the urge to fan herself, unwilling to let Eli know how much she’d been affected by his touch.
The telephone rang, jarring her. Before common sense could sink in, she pivoted on the balls of her feet in a fighter’s stance, ready to face the threat.
Eli gave her a long look, sat up on the side of the bed, and answered their wake-up call. Hot color stole up her neck, over her face, right up to her eyebrows.
After he’d hung up, Eli scrutinized her. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” Her voice was clipped, but hell, she’d almost kicked the phone.
He looked unconvinced, concerned, and protective. “You know, Ray, all I really need are directions. You can tell me what to do. There’s no reason for you to go along—”
“No.” He wrongly assumed her stupid jitters were in fear of the mission. Her throat squeezed tight, making it hard to breathe. If he thought she couldn’t do her job, then she had no value to him, not now, not here. But she couldn’t correct him either. An admission like that would probably have her right back in the bed. “I run the show, Eli, not you, and no way in hell are you going anywhere without me.”
His eyes narrowed. She recognized the stubbornness in the set of his shoulders, the signs of impending arguments.
“Give it up, Eli.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “We don’t have time for macho nonsense. If we’re going to meet my friend on time, we have to get rolling. From here on out, things will move quickly. We need to stay on schedule, so get your butt out of the bed.”
The seconds ticked by while Eli ruminated in indecision, his eyes locked on hers. She didn’t dare waver, didn’t look away, and in the end, he nodded, filling Ray with relief.
“Whatever you say, Ray.” Looking more manly than any man had a right to, he rose from the bed, grabbed up his overnight bag, and disappeared into the bathroom.
He was gone fifteen minutes, which gave Ray time to collect herself. Not that it helped much when, the second she saw him, she wanted to melt all over again.
His hair was wet from his shower but he’d remembered not to shave. He wore only dark beard shadow, small droplets of water that still clung to his chest hair, and fresh boxers.
She wasn’t a schoolgirl or an inexperienced virgin. She’d never led a sheltered life. More times than she could count, she’d seen men in similar states of undress.
This wasn’t the same. This was Eli.
She silently cursed herself, especially when Eli looked up and caught her ogling him.
He held her gaze while stepping into his jeans. “I’m done in the bathroom if you want to dress. I’ll be ready in five minutes.”
Ray picked up her bag and hurried into the bathroom, then closed and locked the door. She was still washing up when she heard Eli open the hotel door and speak quietly to someone. Her curiosity pricked, she dressed quickly to investigate. No sooner had she stepped out of the bathroom than the aroma of fresh coffee and croissants had her stomach growling in appreciation.
Eli looked up as she walked in. He’d placed the tray at the end of the bed and was already filling two cups. Beside the plate of fat, flaky croissants were pats of butter, jams, and jellies. A small urn of creamer and several sugar packets rounded out the feast.
“I thought you might want a bite to eat before we take off. It’s not much, but I didn’t think we’d have time for a big breakfast.”
The man was diabolical in his tactics. He’d probably make a good mercenary—if all his missions were to seduce women. He was certainly on the road to success with her.
He hadn’t bothered with a shirt yet. His chest was the stuff of dreams, with just the right amount of dark hair and prominent muscles. He looked strong, without the bulk of an overblown bodybuilder.
Beneath his navel on his hard abdomen, Ray saw the start of a silkier line of hair. She knew where that happy trail led and almost wished he hadn’t put on the jeans.
She busied herself with spreading two packets of strawberry jam onto half a croissant. She took a healthy bite and groaned in bliss. “Good stuff. Thanks.”
When he didn’t reply, she glanced up. He wore such a tender expression, she blinked. “What?”
Shrugging, Eli told her, “It amuses me that you enjoy eating so much, and you’re so damn slender.”
“Fast metabolism,” she explained. “And you’d better eat something, too. It might be a while before we get the chance again. And when we do, it sure as hell won’t be fresh pastry.”
Eli dutifully walked to the tray to choose his own croissant. “You know, I’ve been wondering about a few things.”
Ray paused in the act of chewing. “Yeah?”
“You keep saying you have everything planned, but that doesn’t tell me anything.”
“You know what you need to know.”
“I hired you, remember?”
Like she could ever forget? “So?”
“Doesn’t that give me a few rights?”
“No.”
He pressed her. “If there’s more to this than you’re telling me, if my brother is in serious danger . . .”
Huffing, Ray reached for his arm, then turned his wrist so she could read the face of his watch. “All right. You have about two minutes to get specific answers. Then we have to go.”
He nodded in satisfaction. “How are we going to get past the border patrols?”
Arching a brow, Ray said, “That’s pretty specific. Okay, first off, Mataya is coastal on two sides. We won’t file a flight plan, so no one will be watching for us. The area isn’t that hostile anymore, and they’re so poor that they can’t afford regular patrols. It won’t be a problem. Going through legal channels not only costs a fortune in bribes, it takes forever. The rule is to never confront an official if you don’t have to. They have away of talking circles around you until you’ve emptied your pockets.”
“And once we land?”
“We’ll travel overland by foot for about fifteen miles to what the locals refer to as the town square, though that’s misleading. It’s a packed dirt courtyard surrounded by a few thatch-roofed palapas. It opens up to the main dock.” She glanced up and away. “You’ll see mostly fishermen, some outdoor cooking fires, and a brothel.”
Other than a raised brow, he didn’t react to that.
“I have a few contacts there who’ll bring me up to date on things.” And when Eli met her contacts, he’d likely swallow his tongue.
“What things?”
She shrugged. “When the plan is going down, how many men will be at the site with your brother, stuff like that.”
“And the plan is?”
Ray hesitated to tell him. The locals weren’t familiar with him, and while everyone in Mataya wore a smile and gave a hearty greeting, true trust for an outsider was a fragile thing. Eli, being a man, could easily blow it. Especially if he showed them any disrespect . . .
She shook her head. No, Eli wasn’t like that. He was always polite to her, so she had no reason to think he’d treat others any differently.
She sat on the side of the bed. “Sarita Contreras owns the brothel. Her clientele is mostly guerillas. You see, her brother, Ignacio, and Miguel Bodden are the leaders of their small group.”
“A brothel, huh?” Eli sounded more curious than condemning. “So Miguel is one of her customers?”
“No, Miguel is her man.” Ray made a face. “He comes across as a very scary character, but not that long ago he was still farming sugarcane. You’ll know him when you see him. He’s really hairy.”
Eli ran a hand over his bare chest. “I’m hairy.”
The croissant stuck in her throat, forcing her to swallow twice. Eli was hairy, but nicely so, unlike Miguel, who looked like a shaggy rug. “On your chest, yeah.”
“And my legs and my—”
Ray rushed to interrupt him. “Miguel has hair everywhere, even behind his knees. When he’s naked, it looks like he’s wearing a wool suit. He could pass for the missing link.”
“You’ve seen him naked?”
That deadly calm voice caught her attention. “He hangs out a brothel, Eli, so what do you think?”
A dark scowl told her what Eli thought of that. He crossed his arms over his naked chest. “How do you know Sarita?”
She couldn’t help but grin. “I didn’t work for her, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
He just continued to watch her, so Ray shrugged. In her mind, she censored the details, rearranging them in a way that she didn’t mind sharing. “She’s helped me on other missions, which is also how I know Miguel. He and I have tangled once before. Sarita gives me information, supplies when she has them.”
“Because you pay her?”
“Sure. But also because if the men are hanging out at the camp, they aren’t visiting the brothel. She’d rather have Miguel with her than risking his neck trying to survive. Most of them started out as farmers or fishermen, and only became guerillas because they had to in order to survive.”
“That’s the same reason the women work in a brothel?”
“They don’t have easy lives. Miguel is a possessive ape, but Sarita knows they need money to survive, and other than the drug trade, that’s the only way she can get it.”
“You said you’ve met up with Miguel before?”
“Yeah. He tried getting in my way when I went there to retrieve a tourist. Miguel wasn’t the one who had him, but he thought he could shake me down, maybe steal the ransom money from me.”
“What happened?”
Eli had a knack for making a simple question sound like a growled demand. “Because I knew how Sarita would feel about it, I tried not to hurt him. But the big dope wouldn’t let up, even after I’d broken his nose, two fingers, and bruised a few ribs. I ended up giving him a little tap between the legs, not enough to do serious damage, but enough to slow him down.” Ray finished off her coffee and stood. “The women who help us will be paid. How much, I don’t know yet.”
“Depends on what you do to their men?”
Astute as well as handsome. Ray hid her grin. “That’s right. Miguel was no use to Sarita for some weeks. She deserved extra compensation. Hopefully he’s learned his lesson by now. But you can’t expect the women to betray their men for nothing.”
“Will the men be angry at them?”
“Of course. But Sarita does it anyway.”
“Just for money?”
He sounded offended on the other man’s behalf. Ray pursed her mouth. “That—and to protect Miguel.”
“Protect him from what?”
Ray brought her gaze up to his. “Me.” She turned away to repack her belongings. “When I make a deal with her, I keep it.”
“And part of the deal is to spare Miguel?”
“Something like that. Now get ready. Buddy hates to be left waiting.”
Eli reached for his shirt and pulled it on. “Buddy is the one we’re meeting today?”
“That’s right. He’s an ace pilot and one of my best friends.”
“And where do you know him from?”
Exasperated, Ray threw up her arms. “What is this, the Inquisition?”
“No, just simple questions.”
True, and if she kept flying off the handle, he’d begin wondering what secrets she kept from him. “Buddy and I were in the service together.”
Eli gave her a perplexed look. “Am I wrong in assuming you were a soldier?”
“No.”
He frowned, then sat on the side of the bed to pull on his boots. “I thought the military kept the sexes separate. How did you get to be such good friends with him?”
Memories bombarded Ray, some pleasant, most not. She resented Eli for dredging them up, forcing her to face them before she had to. “Wise up, Eli. The military can do whatever the hell it wants. Let’s just say Buddy and I spent a lot of time relying on each other, and leave it at that.”
Eli stared at her for a long moment, then asked with resignation, “You’re not going to elaborate on that, are you?”
“Nope. Any other questions?”
“Yeah. Are we taking weapons with us?”
“Buddy’ll have what we need on the plane. He puts together all my supplies—makes it easier than taking them through airport security.”
Her dry tone left Eli with no doubt that she thought his question to be asinine. Still, he said, “One more thing.”
Ray gave a sigh of annoyance. “What’s that?”
“If we’re walking fifteen miles to get Jeremy, how the hell are we going to make it out of there without being caught? Seems to me going in will be a lot easier than getting out.”
“Checking in with Sarita first, then going through the mountain passes will be what takes so long. We’ll take a more direct route back by road, so that’s only about five miles. I thought I’d steal a jeep or something once we’re ready to go.”
Eli’s expression never changed. “Steal a jeep?”
“Yeah.” She almost laughed. “I don’t suppose you know how to hot-wire a car do you?”
Eli stood, his eyes glinting with smug satisfaction. “As a matter of fact . . . I do.”
Ray quickly covered her reaction. She shouldn’t have been so surprised. Eli had already proven himself to be a capable, resourceful man. “Well then, maybe you can take care of acquiring our transportation.”
“Be glad to.”
Ray couldn’t help but smile at the challenge in his words. “Great. Now, get a move on, will ya? We need to get out of here. Your brother is most likely dirty, hungry for American food, and impatient to be rescued.”
“He may feel differently when I get my hands on him.” Eli snapped his suitcase closed and stood. “Let’s go then. Time’s wasting.”