Cold Day In Hell (13 page)

He whirled at a noise behind him. His throat tightened. She wore a silky white robe, and her long dark hair was wet and draped over her shoulder. She raised one eyebrow.

"Looking for somebody?"

His gaze drifted down her lush body, pausing to feast on the soft swell of her breasts before sliding down to her trim legs. He swallowed hard, not surprised that his mouth was as dry as the Sahara. She was beautiful. Breathtaking. And totally edible.

She pulled the robe tighter and cleared her throat, which pulled him out of the lust zone and made him feel like a kid caught with his hand down his pants.

"That would be you," he responded. "I couldn't find you."

With a death grip on the lucky towel, she looked younger than her file stated. Thirty going on twenty. Her lips were more kissable than he remembered. Odd. He'd noticed their fullness while they were in the jungle, but today they were even more inviting. Just his luck to be interested in an untouchable.

"You didn't hear the shower running?"

"If I had, I wouldn't have yelled your name at the top of my lungs."

"Now that you've calmed down, I'll finish my shower." She spun on her bare heel and started from the room, but not before he spotted the angry fire in her eyes.

He choked off a laugh. Thought it safer to remain still. The lady was apparently pissed he'd openly lusted after her nearly naked body. "Need me to wash your back?"

"No."

The razor-sharp edge to her tone and the heavy accent confirmed his suspicion. He'd learned in the jungle that she chopped her words when pissed.

It was just as well she'd said no. She was under his protection until this shit was over. And that meant hands off.

Besides, he liked his women agreeable, pliable and, most of all, willing. Ana fit none of those descriptions. She was hardheaded, bitter, and vengeful. He understood her desire for revenge, but even being gorgeous didn't outweigh her stubbornness.

He'd learned the difference between lust and love years ago. And he prided himself on retaining lessons he'd been taught.

His stomach growled as the scent of something cooking filled his nose. "Something smells good," he shouted toward the closed door. Not waiting for a response, he followed the aroma to the kitchen.

A table with four chairs all but filled the small room. The dishes, silverware, and cooking utensils were behind glass cabinet doors, making it easy to find a towel. He opened the oven and slid out the rack. Yes. This is what smelled so good.

Lifting the metal cover, he found a beef roast. Browned and by all appearances nearly done. He grabbed the three potatoes from the counter, quickly peeled and then added them to the pot.

The TV reception this far out of the city left a lot to be desired, but he made himself comfortable on the couch, flipping through the local channels until he found a game show. He idly picked up a book from the rustic coffee table.

Interesting. Trapped in the hospital, there'd been nothing to do but watch talk shows. The hot topic had been all the bondage books on the market.

His blood heated and curiosity raced through his system. Was Ana into that sort of activity? He read the back of the book. Hmmm. A romance.
Caught in the Crosshairs
sounded interesting. For some reason, Ana being a romantic at heart intrigued him. He flipped the page and found the beginning of an interesting scene. Okay, he might have time to read a paragraph or two.

"Don't lose my place," Ana said. "You can borrow it when I'm finished."

Caught red-handed, Ty tried to be nonchalant. He tossed the book on the table a tad too hard. It skidded across and landed on the floor at her feet. "I don't read that mushy stuff."

"It's not mushy. It's a good story." She held her hands up in surrender. "Never mind. Let's eat. We need to talk."

"I can do that and eat." Ty stood and followed her to the kitchen. Her body language told him a lot without her speaking a word. Something was going on in her head, and she apparently expected him to disagree.

Ty took the plates and silverware she handed him and set the table. She said nothing. He poured two glasses of tea, drained his, then sat and waited to hear what was on her mind.

****

Ana stared at Ty. Really? He knew what was on her mind but was going to play dumb? She had to go back and settle things with Manuel Ortega. Why hadn't he suggested it? Yet, there he sat, looking as if he didn't have a clue or a care in the world.

He spooned food on her plate, passing it to her when she sat. "So talk."

"We have to return to Colombia. If you'd helped me when I asked, we wouldn't be dealing with this threat."

Ty swallowed a mouthful of food. He grabbed his tea glass only to be reminded he'd emptied it seconds ago. "No."

"No?" The word exploded like a detonated grenade. "You think your word is law? Think again.
Gilipollas
," she muttered the curse word.

She grabbed the tea jar from the fridge, considered dumping it over his head, but decided against it. Instead, she slammed it on the table in front of him.

"Did you forget I understand a few words? If you're going to call me an asshole in secret, speak a different language."

"Actually, I called you a dickhead." Her appetite vanished. How could he sit there and eat?

He nodded, refilling his glass. "I'm glad you cleared that up. Makes me feel better."

"Don't you dare make fun of me." Her temper had been on the edge for the past two days. She'd been whisked out of the emergency room into a van and out of the city. She'd been cooped up, out in the middle of nowhere, resting per doctor's orders.

"Then don't make it so easy." His perfectly shaped eyebrows rose. Obviously, he thought it made him look innocent.

Ana's headache threatened to return, probably because of the sudden increase in her heart rate. "Okay, maybe no one thought the drug cartel would come this far for retaliation. Surprise, they did. Ortega wants to save face. It won't end as long as he's alive."

Ty's gaze linked with hers over the top of his glass. "I know."

"So you admit it." Hope flared in her chest. He'd finally come around to her way of thinking. "Then we are going."

"You're not coming."

"Oh. Yes. I. Am." She paused after each word, so he'd get how determined she was about the subject.

"It's too dangerous." His eyelids narrowed to slits. "Nate's not going to sanction this trip. In fact, he's not gonna like it at all."

"And if he says no?"

"He won't. He'll be there if I need him." Ty blew out a heavy breath. "But before I leave, Carlo has to be caught and turned over to Jack Fury. The feds would love to get their hands on Ortega's lieutenant."

"Fury?" Panic flooded the back of her throat. "You're taking him to Colombia instead of me?"

"No. Although, he might make a good backup. I'm not going anywhere until I'm sure you're safe here at home."

"Colombia is my home." She felt her opportunity to keep her promise to her mother slipping away. Desperation rose up, wrapping around her lungs and squeezing like a python. She had to make him understand. "Don't make me follow you. Besides the fact I can handle firearms better than most men, I know the jungle and the people better than you, GPS or Google Earth. You need me."

Ty rested his fork on his plate, stood, and carried them to the sink. The flash in his gaze right before he broke eye contact gave him away. She was right, and he knew it. Was he man enough to accept a woman's help?

He turned, leaning back against the counter. He'd put the guard back in place, shielding his emotions, and making it impossible to tell what he was thinking.

Ana rose and stood facing him. One minute she wanted to pour cold tea over his head. The next they were talking about killing Ortega and Carlo.

He extended his hands, sliding them under her arms. With no effort, he lifted her to eye level. Turning, he set her on the counter. His large powerful hand cupped her cheek. It took all her strength to keep from leaning into his touch. When his thumb stroked across her skin, her eyes fluttered closed. She just knew he was going to kiss her.

His lips touched her forehead.

"It's not a good idea for us to be alone in the jungle." He stepped back, grabbed his glass of tea, and left the kitchen.

A second passed while she regained her senses and shoved her confusion into the deep freeze. She hopped down, cursing him under her breath. She'd met infuriating men before, but none like him.

****

Ty dropped to the couch, leaned forward, and rested his head in his hands. He'd all but run from the kitchen. A second longer, and he'd have tasted her lips. Her eyelids had fluttered closed, her mouth had opened, and the pink tip of her tongue had brushed across her bottom lip. Jesus, she'd almost done him in.

What was it about her? A couple of times he'd been tempted to cross the line. The desire troubled him. A woman entrusted to him for protection shouldn't have to fear her enemy and her protector's advances. Even if she sent him signals of interest.

Gunfire exploded, shattering the glass windows across the front of the house. Ana's scream ripped him off the couch and onto his belly. If she was hurt...he pushed the thought away. He crawled to the kitchen.

The shelves were empty. Dishes lay in hundreds of broken shards across the floor. Her eyes were wide as Frisbees, but she'd flipped the table on its side and crouched between it and the cabinets. Smart woman. Maybe she should go to Colombia with him.

"Give me a gun." She mouthed the words more than spoke them.

Ty slid in beside her and removed the Beretta from his ankle holster. The noise from the TV in the other room kept the place from going graveyard quiet. "Automatic rifle," he said. "There's more coming."

"Why'd he stop firing?" Ana took the pistol, making sure the safety was off.

"Don't know. Think I'll go find out. I'm betting he's alone. After drawing our attention to the front of the house, he's headed for the back. Anybody comes through that door that isn't black, bald, and handsome, kill 'em." He caught her chin with his finger. "No heroics. Don't try to wound him. Take his head off."

Ty pushed away from the table, crawling to the front where he hoped to go outside and circle around behind the shooter. Avoiding the broken dishes, he paused in the doorway. "Remember not to shoot me."

"I'll try. You confused me when you said handsome," she said, keeping her gaze and the Beretta trained on the back door.

He paused to text Nate. A simple *911 sufficed.

Ty slithered like a snake, missing what shattered glass he could, and headed for the bedroom. The house had old-fashioned screens on the windows, which made slicing open a man-size hole a snap. He hit the ground and flattened his body. Still as death, he listened for crackling leaves or branches crunching under the intruder's footsteps. Nothing. Ty didn't like the silence.

Questions swirled in his head. How had somebody found them? Where was the shooter?

Shards of light filtered through the acres and acres of trees behind the house, creating shadows and illusions. What appeared to be the outline of a man was actually a bent oak sapling.

Night fall was a few valuable minutes away. His search was about to become more difficult. Still, he pressed on, looking and listening.

The incident didn't make sense. Carlo Medina had to be a smart, vicious, and cunning man to have earned his top spot in the cartel. Not at all the kind of killer who'd strafe the front of the house and run. Snakes like him slithered behind his prey, killed them quickly before calmly walking away.

Ty reached the back porch just as the sun faded to black. "Ana," he called out.

The door slammed open and five-foot-six inches of woman with wild chocolate-colored hair greeted him with a growl. She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside the house.

"Where the hell have you been? You scared the crap out of me."

"Searching and finding nothing."

"I hoped you'd have Carlo hog-tied and stashed behind the house."

The last of the sunlight filtered through the shattered windows, highlighting the fear behind her eyes. The fear she probably didn't want him to see.

"We're not that lucky. Didn't find any tracks either." Ty wiped the sweat off his forehead, trying to make sense of the attack. "I don't get it."

"Unless it was a warning."

"We have to move." Ty checked his watch. No way was he waiting for Nate. "Someone wants us to think we can't hide."

"Can we?"

"Trust me."

Chapter Eleven

Ana didn't question Ty's reason for leaving before anyone from Lost and Found arrived. He'd crawled on his belly to check the pickup's undercarriage for a bomb. He'd returned with instructions for her to stay low and run to his pickup. She tried to make herself smaller and ran like hell. Ty staying close behind bolstered her courage.

Sliding in the driver's side, she moved quickly, allowing him to enter and close the door. She scanned the darkness as the engine roared to life. Ty stomped the gas pedal and sped onto the country road headed north. A chill crawled across her skin. Where to now?

He reached across and gripped her knee. "You're doing great."

"How did they find us? Or you, for that matter?" Was there no place to hide? Must she spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder?

"Money buys answers. And if I had to guess, I'd say Ortega used his contacts in both governments."

"Carlo didn't come alone. Those animals run in packs."

"Be interesting to know how he got into the country. The easiest way would be through Mexico with a false ID." His grip tightened. "Worrying won't stop Carlo. We'll get him."

His use of the word we didn't escape Ana. "No more arguing? I'm staying with you?"

"None. You're not getting out of my sight until this is over."

"That includes going back to Colombia?" Her hopes soared while she waited for his answer.

Ty placed his hand on the steering wheel. The warmth from his touch disappeared. Ana stared at his profile, watching the nerve in his jaw twitch. Was he structuring his refusal to let her accompany him?