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“Yes,” he whispered. It was more than a reply—it was a promise, she thought dazedly when he slid his fingers under the straps of her bra to push them over her shoulders to her upper arms…and bring the bra’s cups down with it.
Eric bent his head, a wayward curl of red hair falling onto the slope of her breast, stimulating her nerve endings further, but before he could close his lips around her aching,wantingnipple, a knock came at the door.
8
It took Eric a few seconds to understand that the noise was someone thumping on the door and not his heart thudding in his ears at the sight of Rhianne half naked, aroused, and ready for him. Realization struck them both at the same time and Rhianne gasped, a deep red flush staining her face and neck.
She grabbed at her clothes with shaking hands, yanking her bra straps up over her shoulders and hurrying to button her blouse. He adjusted himself as best he could but knew his arousal was evident too when, after throwing Rhianne a wordless question and receiving her nod in reply, he opened the door.
The staff member standing outside smirked when he took in the sight of them—Eric uncomfortable in his pants and Rhianne, straightening her blouse and running a hand through her hair.
“Yes?” Eric barked, blocking the young guy’s view of Rhianne.
“I’m here to escort you to the mixer for Señor Rodriguez’s weekend guests,” the assistant replied. He roved his gaze over their crumpled clothes and tried not to smirk harder. “I can wait while you change…”
“Sure!” Eric mustered up a grin. “We’ll be right out.” He closed the door.
Rhianne was already pulling fresh clothes from her still-unpacked case. Eric followed suit, trying not to get distracted when her primping included reapplying her perfume and her scent, that warm, hidden amber, that stroked his senses.
Rhianne’s tasks were seemingly so absorbing that she needed all her focus on them with none to spare for him.
“Rhi.” Eric, now changed into a clean and less crumpled shirt, whispered close to her ear. “We should talk about this weekend.” He blamed himself for not using the time they’d been allotted before the kick-off event to go over things.
Rhianne nodded and a loose wave of her hair wisped across his face. He swallowed, shoving his hands into his pockets to stop himself from reaching for that tendril and winding it around his finger until his hand reached the back of her head, which he’d cup as he drew her face close to his…close, then closer still, until their lips met. He brought his head back, out of temptation’s range.
“We’re going to be vetted.” Rhianne refreshed her lipstick as she spoke, renewing that deep pink that made her lips look even fuller. “And we’ll pass.” She brought her plump lips together in determination, a hard light in her blue eyes.
“Best-case scenario, we’ll be able to ‘purchase’ what we came for and leave with her without any fuss,” Eric replied, in as quiet a murmur as hers. Still SEALs at heart, he, Charlie, and Ian were hoping for the best…but had prepared for the worst. A firefight.
Rhianne stopped. “And worst case?” she whispered, but another knock at the door and the staff member asking if they were ready to leave meant Eric couldn’t respond.
“Sweetie?” he asked, and opened the door for Rhianne, taking her arm the second he too stepped outside.
The assistant smiled at Rhianne in her floaty white dress and seemed to also approve of Eric’s linen button-down. With a “Please follow me,” the guy led them past the line of guest cabanas to the end, toward what Eric quickly worked out was the center of the compound. Eric scanned the pool and gardens as they walked the property. To anyone watching he was a happy vacationer taking in his surroundings, but he was there for reconnaissance, not recreation.
From their surveillance before, he already knew that the central space was ringed with other buildings. They ranged from villas with balconies and terraces to more mundane-looking edifices, set a little farther back, but it meant the pool area was completely enclosed. He’d hoped that being on the ground would give him insight into gaps in the security—ways to get out quickly if that proved necessary. His heart sank when he couldn’t spot any. He didn’t need Rhianne’s elbow nudge for him to notice the guards present in this central area and beyond. If things got ugly, he’d have a hard time getting himself and Rhianne out alive, much less with Robyn in tow.
“We’re in a goddamn fishbowl. Shit.” Eric hoped his mutter was masked by the exclamations of delight and trills of greeting ringing out all around them as their fellow guests mingled, tried the drinks and snacks offered by the uniformed staff, and listened to the trio performing on a raised stage at the head of the pool.
“This is something,” he commented, fake warm approval in his voice, throwing his head back to drink it all in…and take note of every detail.
“Sure is.” Rhianne was doing the same, scanning every inch of the area, studying the guards, staff members, and every person near them.
Eric kept her close, with a hand to the small of her back. It was a way to keep up the ruse that they were a couple, but he was also keeping her safe. He didn’t want her out of his sight. Rhianne was a stunning woman, and there were a lot of eyes following the blonde, blue-eyed, creamy-skinned beauty as she strolled about.
Oh, she could take care of herself. Eric knew that. But it didn’t mean he was going to leave her on her own for a minute. His training had made it second nature for him to watch his teammates’ backs. They were partners in this, and he wasn’t going to let her down.
“Oh, thank you! I didn’t know what to pack or what to wear,” Rhianne was saying in reply to a woman who must have complimented her on her outfit. “I love your bracelet.”
Eric didn’t, not when the woman launched into the story of what each gold-and-precious-stone-encrusted charm dangling from it meant, when Phil had gotten them for her, and to commemorate what. Phil, the woman’s partner, and the guys next to him got into a “what do you drive?” contest, which was just as dull as the “what resorts have you visited?” one that started up among the women.
It all set his teeth on edge. Their fellow guests had to be some of the most ignorant, arrogant, status-obsessed individuals he’d ever met. It came as no surprise, of course—they weren’t here for some worldwide cultural event or crucial philanthropic endeavor. They were here to buy human beings. That made these people the scum of the earth, repulsive in a way that no amount of fancy clothing or expensive plastic surgery could hide.
“You hear that, Bry?” called one of the women Rhianne was unfortunate enough to have to talk to. “The Carters live in Eastlake—Eli surprised Raquel with a big property she’d been looking at on the Shores last year. Right near the club, too!”
“Someone was a good girl last year…or should that be a naughty girl?” a guy, presumably the “Bry” who’d been shrieked at, replied, with a leer at Rhianne. “On the road leading to the club you say—Lakeview Something, right? One of those new villas there? I think Sergei had something to do with that development, didn’t he?”
Damn. He should have gotten more details on this. “I wouldn’t know. I got it through my real estate agent and never asked the details.” Eric shrugged.
