Chapter 23
CHAPTER 23
V iper held Izzy as she slept and tried to relax, but it was downright impossible. Her damp hair tickled his chest, soft and golden. She smelled wonderful, fresh and clean, and he wanted so much to kiss her.
She was snuggled into him the way a girlfriend might, her arm loosely draped over his stomach, her leg over his. It was perfect.
It was torture.
He'd rather face a night of waterboarding than endure this.
What the hell was he thinking?
He'd crossed just about every line he could think of. The principal-bodyguard line, the employer-employee line—not to mention his normal stance on relationships.
His body had instantly reacted to the contact, and even now, he could see the covers tenting over his massive hard-on. Luckily, Izzy was dead to the world and hadn't noticed.
Her breathing was even and rhythmic, unlike his shallow and labored breaths.
Goddamn.
He couldn't even move to massage himself, to relieve the ache. So, he lay there, perfectly still and pretended he was holed up behind enemy lines. Camouflaged in a forward operating post, unable to move. He forced his mind to go blank, like he used to in those situations, and focused on his breathing. Soon, it slowed, and his arousal faded. Grogginess descended and the exhaustion of the last few days returned. He felt himself drifting, and eventually, he fell asleep.
The telephone rang, waking him with a start.
What the hell?
The room was still dark and he was momentarily confused. Then it came flooding back in a rush. The jungle... the race up the coast... the resort... the double bed.
Her...
He glanced down at the sleeping figure still wrapped around him. She stirred, then snuggled some more.
He patted her shoulder. "Izzy, the phone's ringing."
She murmured something unintelligible and snuggled deeper. Her hand slipped under his robe, splaying across his abs.
He froze. What was she playing at?
It snaked up to his chest, her fingers grazing his chest hair. His body was on fire. Christ, he was harder than the Washington Monument.
She opened her eyes and mumbled, "You get it."
He sat up and reached for the phone.
She shifted off him and lay on her side, watching, her eyes dark and huge.
"Hello?"
"It's me. I hope you're decent; I'm coming over. I've just spoken to Pat."
"Right, see you now." Viper shot out of bed, fastening his robe. "Phoenix is coming over."
Izzy groaned. "Now?"
"Yep, he's heard from Pat."
He opened the blind and lifted the window, letting in some fresh air. It was mid-morning, the sun high in the sky.
"Okay." She gave him a lingering glance, then got up and disappeared to the bathroom.
A moment later, there was a knock on the door.
"Hey, buddy." Phoenix bounded in. His gaze fell on the bed. "How did you sleep?"
Viper didn't miss the cheeky sparkle.
"Fine, thank you. What did Pat have to say?"
Phoenix chuckled. "He was overjoyed we got Izzy back. He's very fond of her, from what I can gather."
"Yeah, she's his goddaughter," Viper told him.
"Shit, really? He kept that quiet. Anyway, they've managed to trace the registered owners of the Pacific Pride to a shell company in El Salvador. Get this, the shell company is registered to a man affiliated with La Sombra Roja."
"Thought so," muttered Viper. "I recognized them from the hotel in San Diego.”
"Emily’s friends?" gasped Izzy, emerging from the bathroom.
Viper gave a slim nod. “Seems so. I’m sorry. That’s how they knew you were going to be on the yacht.”
“Em told them?” Her eyes were huge.
“Inadvertently,” Viper said, hastily.
Izzy sank down onto the bed. “I didn’t suspect them for a moment.”
Viper ground his jaw. “Nobody did.” Including him.
"What if we stayed here for a while?" Izzy said, softly.
Viper and Phoenix both looked at her.
"It's not a bad idea," Phoenix said, after a pause.
Viper felt a knot tighten in his stomach. "We're in the middle of nowhere."
"Exactly. Nobody knows I’m here," Izzy insisted, warming to her plan. "I didn't tell Robert, Pat won't mention anything, not even the police or FBI knows where we are. If the guys who kidnapped me are all dead, they can’t tell the cartel where we are. Even when they realize what's happened, they'll assume we're long gone."
"They might check the coastal hotels," Viper said, thinking that’s what he’d do.
"They won't expect you to stick around," Phoenix pointed out. "I think Izzy's right. The longer you stay holed up here the better. I'll go back to D.C., and we'll keep looking into who's behind this. In the meantime, you two sit tight."
"We'll have to run it by Pat," Viper said. He couldn't look at Izzy. He didn't want to see her wide eyes staring up at him.
Will you hold me?
Christ.
"I don't want this on my credit card,” he muttered.
Phoenix chuckled. "Don't worry, we'll sort that out. In the meantime, I need some decent clothes to wear before I leave for the airport. I can't catch a flight like this."
"That I can help you with." Izzy reached for the phone. "There's a vacation shop downstairs in the lobby. It looks like it sells clothes."
"You noticed that last night?" said Phoenix, astonished. "And here I thought I was observant."
"You're trained to notice terrorist threats and men with guns. I'm trained to notice retail."
Viper chortled.
She turned to the phone. "This is Victoria Granger, Room 202. Could you please put me through to the shop in the hotel lobby?"
The men listened as she reeled off their sizes and told the shop manager what they required.
Izzy grinned at them. "She'll be up in fifteen minutes with some samples."
"Good guess." Viper was impressed by how easily she'd sized them up.
"Well, that's sorted then," grinned Phoenix. "I know who to get to do my shopping for me, in future."
"It is what I do," Izzy said with a laugh. "I can't vouch for the quality of the clothes, but at least you'll be able to go outside."
"I'm starving." Phoenix picked up a room service menu. "Let's eat and then I'll call a cab to take me to the airport."
They ordered three cheeseburgers with fries and got three Cokes out of the fridge. After they were done, the store manager arrived with bags of samples, which she proceeded to lay out on the bed.
Izzy picked out two summer dresses with bright floral patterns—one was short, ending above the knee, and the other was a long, flowy maxi dress. She held them up and smiled. "These are perfect."
She also grabbed a pair of sandals and some flip-flops.
Viper wavered, and she could tell these beach clothes weren’t his style. Eventually, and only because he had no other choice, he selected a pair of shorts and two T-shirts, one with a sombrero on it and the other a dolphin. It was the only thing in extra-large. Phoenix chose a pair of white Bermuda shorts and a Hawaiian-style shirt with peppers and cacti in crazy colors all over it. Both men had to settle for leather sandals, as all the closed shoes were too small for them.
"You won't win any style awards, but you'll do," Izzy said, trying not to giggle at how different they looked.
Dressed in his multicolor ensemble, Phoenix said, "Okay, folks. I'm going to leave you to it and make my way to the airport."
"How far away is it?" Izzy asked.
He shrugged. "I have no idea, but I'm sure the helpful concierge will point me in the right direction. See ya back in D.C." He gave Viper a handshake turned shoulder-bump and gave Izzy a quick hug. "You two take care now."
"We will."
Phoenix caught Viper's eye and grinned. "You can trust Viper. He'll take good care of you."