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  Kara concluded that the couple’s flirting was something they did often and to the great amusement of their friends, but the men gave them privacy to play in public. Something Kara found rather sweet and interesting. The fact something overtly sexual was likely happening beneath the table by Tilly’s nearly silent little gasps wasn’t something the men found out of the ordinary.

  Intriguing. “You have a beautiful house,” she said, loudly enough she drew Boone’s gaze from his fiancée—if the large rock on her finger was indeed an engagement ring.

  “If you’d seen it a couple of months ago, you wouldn’t say that,” Boone said, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

  Tilly’s eyelids dipped and her jaw lowered.

  Boone’s right hand was out of sight, and Kara thought she might know exactly where it was. Kara pressed her thighs together and hoped Sergei didn’t notice her motion. The thought of him watching her as she tried not to stare at the couple made her squirm all the more. Would he intuit she was growing aroused?

  Jonesy snorted, pointing around the room with his fork. “The place was a shambles. We nearly had to gut it before we began renovations.”

  Boone leaned closer to Tilly, his gaze taking in the heightened color on her cheeks. “The house is complete. Tilly is still making little tweaks to the furnishings,” he said, giving his girlfriend a shush when she moaned. “Work continues on the grounds and the cabins in the back.”

  “Cabins?” Kara asked her voice rising on a jagged note when Sergei placed a hand on her thigh. She knew his touch was a warning, but she couldn’t resist holding Boone’s attention while his hand was hidden and everyone at the table was beginning to grin at Tilly’s obvious distress. Nor could she resist tensing the muscle Sergei’s thumb now stroked. It was as though they were somehow joining in the play. Made all the more delicious because they were the only ones who knew.

  “Old slave quarters we’re renovating for guests’ use,” Boone said smoothly.

  His grip tightened and she shifted on her chair. “Oh, are you planning to open it as a B&B?”

  Grins widened on the all the men’s faces. Sergei pressed his lips together.

  Tilly’s gaze swung her way, her eyes focusing on Kara for the first time. A small smile curved her mouth, a hint of devilish humor and maybe a little recognition that Kara knew exactly what was going on.

  Despite the fact her own cheeks were getting hot, Kara didn’t look away.

  In the end, Boone was the one who replied, “Not precisely a B&B. We have a wide circle of friends and business associates we plan to entertain here.” His gaze flickered over Tilly’s bright cheeks. “Please stay away from the cabins if you decide to explore. They aren’t safe.”

  Kara nodded although his gaze wasn’t on her, at last sitting back in her chair and releasing Boone from attempting more polite conversation.

  Sergei leaned toward her. “Not very nice,” he whispered, giving her another rub.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, pretending innocence with a wide-eyed look.

  “Tilly was climbing the walls, and you left her suspended.”

  “That wasn’t my fault,” Kara murmured, beginning her own slow climb. Her lids dipped as she met his gaze.

  Sergei squeezed her thigh. His fingers slipped into the tender inside.

  Kara straightened in her chair, her breath halting.

  The men’s fascinated gazes turned from Tilly one by one, until Sergei slowly removed his hand.

  Immediately, she missed the warmth of his large hand. And she would have been disingenuous wondering why. She’d liked the feel of him touching her body.

  Sergei cleared his throat. “We’ll take a look around the gardens. They’re lit with gas lamps at night.”

  “The house is on the national registry of historic homes,” Jonesy said. “Our goal is to keep with the original designs, making changes only to update for electrical code and comforts, like running water and bathrooms.”

  Although her pulse was thudding, Kara nodded, pretending interest. “Was this something you bought on the market?”

  Boone shook his head, a lazy grin on his face as he returned to the conversation, leaving a rather dazed Tilly grinning at him. His right hand settled on top of the table beside his plate. “I inherited it. The plantation fields had been leased for years, but the house stood empty for too long.”

  Something about his expression, like the shuttering of windows, told her to move away from that subject. “The gardens in front are gorgeous.”

  Tilly smiled, although the gesture was a little strained. She drew a long breath. “We’ve restored the rose beds. Many of the original bushes survived. I don’t know how, but they’ve been cut back and are now bloomin’ like crazy. I like havin’ cut flowers from our own garden for the house.”

  Kara remembered the roses in her room. “Thanks for the vase in my room.”

  “It was my pleasure. There are more things to be planted and trimmed. Azaleas bordering the path around the side. Honeysuckle on the garden walls. This being the bayou, orchids from the woods can be transplanted too.”

  Kara’s smile was genuine. “I love orchids. My mother used to keep them…” She sighed, not wanting to remember, but the urge to share something of herself was too tempting. “We lived in the city with no space for a garden. But Mama always had starts of flowers in the kitchen window. And we had flower boxes she hung on the balcony rails. Geraniums, mostly. She grew orchids in pots inside the apartment.”

  Tilly’s smile softened. “I’ll find an orchid to pot.”

  Her offer was nice, but Kara didn’t expect to be here long. “You shouldn’t bother.”

  “It’s no bother. I have… duties… to see to, but plenty of spare time on my hands. And I’d enjoy the excuse to hunt for something special.”

  Sergei’s hand sought hers under the table. He gave it a gentle squeeze.

  Kara nodded and smiled. “Then thank you. If you need company on your search…”

  Tilly’s smile widened. “We’ll go soon. Jonesy will know just where to look. He also knows where the alligators are.”

  Her body stilled and her eyebrows rose. “Are they really that close to us?”

  “This is the bayou. Nothing to worry about, though. Jonesy’s very capable of protectin’ us.”

  And she’d have another guard hovering over her, no doubt. One who was more polite, and might not carry a rifle, but a guard just the same. Glancing around the table, Kara had to assume that every man here was just as capable, just as deadly as Sergei.

  His hand squeezed hers again. “Are you finished?” he said, eyeing her half-eaten steak.

  “I am.” The food had been delicious but the portions exceeded her usual appetite. She couldn’t have taken another bite.

  Sergei pushed back his chair. “We’ll be in the garden.”

  Hands stilled on glasses and paused between bites. A chorus of farewells followed them out the door.

  Outside the dining room, Kara took a deep breath, feeling a little embarrassed about how they’d behaved in the dining room now they were alone. “Your friends are a little overwhelming.”

  “They’re good people. But don’t take my word for it. Go, check the laptop. I’ll come for you when you’re finished surfing.”

  “You’ll be watching me until I’m done?” she asked, arching a brow.

  “You know I will.”

  Alone, she slipped into her bedroom, noting her irritation wasn’t as raw as it should have been. In fact, she warmed a little, thinking that being the constant focus of a man was very strange indeed. But as discomfiting as the situation should have been, it was also terribly exciting. She thought of Tilly and Boone and how their attention, even amid their closest friends, had been only for each other, and she envied them.

  The laptop sat on the table beside the chair, and she settled into the chair and flipped up the lid. As she began her search, she let her mind wander back to Sergei, and she hoped whatever she found in
the next few minutes wouldn’t change what she was beginning to feel for him.

  For once, she’d like to know her instincts hadn’t been wrong. That she could entrust her safety, and maybe her pleasure, to one particular man’s large, capable hands.

  Chapter Six

  For Kara, a search of “Black Spear” and “Boone Benoit” led to some very interesting discoveries. Their corporation’s name showed up in many settings—associated with escort boats for transport ships in pirate-infested locations in the world, K&R operations, hostage negotiations, and more prosaic services like corporate security, protection from corporate espionage, and providing highly skilled bodyguards for the rich and famous.

  One recent article was situated much closer to Boone’s home, an account of an old murder, Tilly’s cousin Celeste, and how Boone himself had been instrumental in solving the crime and protecting the murderer’s next intended victim, Tilly herself. The details in the article were dry and sketchy, but since the murderer, a local woman, had been killed, Kara could only imagine how frightening the incident must have been. Knowing the Black Spear men were fully capable of investigating and protecting someone they cared about left her feeling hopeful they might be able to help her. Not just to keep her safe for now, but to find out how deeply her uncle was involved with Lucio’s dealings, otherwise she might never be safe enough to return to her old life.

  A further search of the corporate chart revealed Sergei was more than simply a black ops team leader: he was the vice president of special operations. Sergei wasn’t like any corporate VP she’d ever met through her uncle’s law firm, and she seriously doubted any of those would ever put their own safety on the line, donning combat gear to personally lead a raid on a kidnapper’s camp.

  When she was through, she closed the laptop lid and sat quietly in her chair, taking in all the information. Sergei really was one of the good guys. A former SEAL, just like every one of the men who’d been sitting around the dinner table. Her relief was so strong, her hands shook a little. She tightened them into fists.

  To her side, the door opened and closed. Footsteps, nearly silent ones, drew near. Kara remained still, amazed such a large man could move that quietly. But then he’d had plenty of practice, hadn’t he?

  “Satisfied you can trust us?” he asked.

  His voice held that deep rumble she already craved like chocolate—addictive in the way it made her think of intimate pleasures. She nodded, not looking at him. “Can we wait to talk about my problem, specifically, for just a little while longer?”

  “When you’re ready, Kara…”

  Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them away and turned in her chair to face him. “I believe you,” she blurted. “And yes, I have a problem I think you can help me sort out, but I don’t have the kind of money needed to hire you.”

  Sergei shook his head. “I’m not offering you my services at a charge, baby.”

  Baby? She blinked at the word. In the same moment, affronted and terribly excited. “Are you looking for some other sort of compensation?”

  He swore under his breath then let out a deep sigh. A moment later, he knelt beside her chair, his face near enough she could see the lines beside his eyes, the tiny speckles of gold in his brown irises. “I don’t expect a thing from you. I can’t deny it—I’m attracted, but I would never pressure you or expect anything in return. I want to help.”

  She swallowed then lifted a hand, settling her palm against his cheek as she leaned closer. Now she followed instinct, pushing aside the last of her fears that had kept her from trusting him, from letting herself fall into whatever was happening between them. She’d trust her gut, which had been telling her all along she had nothing to fear. She leaned closer still, her mouth an inch from his.

  He waited, his gaze darkening.

  His body was held so still she barely saw his chest rise and fall. Eyes wide-open, she kissed him. Just a press of her lips against his. So softly, she felt a little embarrassed at how timid he must think she was. But this wasn’t a kiss. Not really. This was her surrender. His actions now would set the terms.

  His eyes remained open as well. His lips remained firm. For a moment. And then he slowly wound a lock of her hair around a finger, and gently pulled, bringing her closer, his head slanting to deepen the kiss.

  Kara closed her eyes and followed his lead, letting him take control of the kiss. A perfect kiss. A gentle melding of their mouths. A slow, seductive circle.

  Another tug on her hair, and he broke the connection. “I promised you a walk in the garden,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers.

  She licked her lips, wanting another kiss, but she understood. He’d promised her no pressure. How ironic was it that she was the one who yearned for more?

  His fingers trailed down her cheek. “I’ll be honest,” he murmured. “I want to make love to you. But we have to talk first. No secrets.”

  She nodded, her gaze falling away. No secrets. Her stomach fell. He’d have to know how stupid she’d been.

  He rose and held out his hand. “Are those sandals comfortable enough for your feet?”

  “Since they don’t feel like hobbits’ feet anymore, I think I’ll be fine.”

  Sergei smiled. “Then come.”

  Together, they left her room, walking along the hallway and down a narrow staircase in the back of the house.

  “This is the old servant’s staircase,” Sergei said. “It’s narrow, so hold on to the rail.”

  She smiled as she followed him. Even in little ways, he was always mindful of her safety.

  On the back porch, part of the deep wraparound veranda that encircled the entire house, they paused at the top of the steps. To the left, in the distance there were lights shining from a smaller house. “The overseer’s house,” he said, pointing. “Tilly stayed there for about a minute. Jonesy’s taken up residence now.”

  Straight ahead were a series of raised beds. “More flower beds, since you’re so interested in horticulture,” he said wryly.

  “I was just trying to keep the conversation going. The silence when I first sat at the table was a little unnerving. What’s back there?” she asked, looking beyond the raised beds to a row of peaked roofs, shining in the moonlight.

  “The old slaves’ quarters. Strictly off-limits for now.”

  “You know that makes me all the more curious about them. For all I know, you have women chained up…” She trailed off as he began laughing. “It wasn’t that funny.”

  His laughter grew and grew until he bent at the waist. “Oh, sweetheart, I agree, it’s not funny, but damn.”

  She grinned, the stretch of her mouth into her first wide grin in days a welcome feeling. The action made her feel almost light-headed, giddy. Or perhaps her feeling of relief came because now she knew she could entrust her problems to this man. An idea that should have rankled because, since her parents’ deaths, she’d never relied on another living soul.

  His hand enfolded hers again and he tugged it. “Come. Let’s walk.”

  “Shouldn’t we worry about mosquitoes?”

  “Are you worried?”

  “Not really.”

  “The canal is nearby, but we have bat houses above the trees.”

  “Bats? Did you say that thinking I’d feel safer?”

  “I suppose I should have said we instituted a natural form of pest control.”

  She smiled into the darkness at his formal tone. “And then I’d have been ready to nod off to sleep.”

  “So bats was a better choice, right?”

  She shook her head, her smile never easing. “I suppose.”

  They descended the steps and entered the garden area. From the ground, the flower beds with their tall plants cut off the view of everything around them, making the path feel all that more private.

  “How old are you, Kara?”

  The way he said it, carefully, alerted her to its importance. “Are you afraid I’m not old enough?”

  �
��Just a question.”

  “Well, I’m old enough. I graduated college.”

  He narrowed his gaze down on her, but he continued walking, pulling her closer to his side by bringing his arm straight down.

  Not that she minded. She guessed the question was a reasonable one, since she estimated he was somewhere in his midthirties. “Thanks for letting me see for myself. The laptop, I mean.”

  “I didn’t want you feeling afraid anymore,” he murmured.

  She nestled closer to his arm, and then tilted her head to look up at him. Walking so close to him was nice. He had a tall, sturdy body, which only made her feel more feminine. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were when you took me from the camp?”

  Sergei’s gaze was steady and a little flat. “Because I didn’t know whether you were tied up with the cartel.”

  Kara’s heart thudded and she stiffened away. She tugged on his hand to make him stop. “What cartel? What are you talking about?”

  He halted and let go of her hand before turning toward her, his gaze studying her again. “The Las Omegas drug cartel. That was their camp. You can’t tell me you didn’t know.”

  “How would I?” she asked, her voice rising. “I woke up in some kind of Mexican army truck, bound, and then I was dumped into that shack. No one told me anything. I don’t speak Spanish.”

  A muscle at the edge of his jaw jerked. His gaze left hers and rose to stare into the trees.

  Kara swallowed hard and began to shake. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “The Omegas, seriously?”

  “Yeah.” He glanced down at her face. “Are you okay?”

  She shook her head. “I mean, I knew I was in trouble, but they have connections everywhere.” The news in Texas was constantly filled with articles about their terroristic tactics—kidnappings, beheadings… Kara glanced down at her hands. She couldn’t still the shaking. That was who Lucio was in bed with? That was who he really was? The Omegas dealt with rival cartels as well as honest officials who stood in their way with deadly force. And then she recalled other stories, of abductions for ransom, of women sold in the underground slave trade into private hands and brothels. Good Lord, was that what her fate would have been? An American virgin served up to the highest bidder?