Grave Peril_Military Romantic Suspense Page 10

  Rip hadn’t moved on; he hadn’t forgiven himself for his transgression, whether real or imagined. Lela admired his loyalty, and his sense of responsibility to his betrothed. But she was aware of something else, too.

  The fight against the cartel was personal for Rip. This wasn’t only about saving Lela, although she was sure that was part of it. He had other reasons to go after them.

  “Did you find the guy who did it?” Lela said.

  “I tried. I came home, took a leave of absence for the funeral. I did all I could, but parts of Mexico are corrupt and lawless. Once the guy went back, I had no way of tracking him down.”

  Lela carried her own grudge against the cartel. She’d lost her father to a similar terror. It was likely Rip knew, since he’d checked into her background. She was the daughter of a cop killed in action.

  She went over and sat on the ottoman in front of Rip. “I wish it could have been different,” she said, and put her hand on his knee.

  “I can’t undo the past…but I can make sure that you’re safe.” Rip looked into her eyes. “I already lost one woman to the cartel. I won’t allow another innocent woman to be harmed. I promise to protect you…no matter the risk.”

  Lela’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t know what to say. She had no doubt Rip meant what he’d said, and it touched her deeply.

  When Lela squeezed his knee, Rip touched her cheek. She leaned in and kissed him. When her lips pressed to his, heat radiated through her body. She wanted him, needed to be closer. His soft, sensual mouth pulled her deeper into the emotion of the moment.

  Rip didn’t pull away. Instead, he put his hand on the back of her head, digging his hand into her hair. He dipped his tongue into her mouth. The passion escalated, and Lela put her hands on his shoulders, lost in his maleness.

  Sensation zipped through Lela like lightning, setting fire to her. She dug her hand into his silky hair and tasted his sexy mouth, craving him. He thrust his tongue along hers, then lightly licked over her lips. His kiss was laced with desire, yet tender and sensual.

  Rip released her and looked into her eyes. His expression was soft, filled with longing. He pulled her toward him and kissed her again, her lips tingling from the intimate touch. Then he let go of her without a word.

  Lela was desperately close to taking it further. With her life hanging by a thread, she needed Rip’s arms around her. A voice in her head told her it wasn’t real; it was heightened emotion because of the circumstances.

  But that didn’t make her want Rip any less.

  Quietly, she sipped her wine, unwilling to pry anymore that night. Rip had shared his past with her. It meant a lot. And she was weak from his hot kiss, smitten by the way he’d pulled her to him. His passion simmered below the surface, just as hers did.

  Yet Lela shouldn’t give in; it wouldn’t be wise. There were so many reasons why it wouldn’t work. And Rip hadn’t made any advance. It was just one kiss. She’d enjoyed it immensely. It would be easy to give in to pleasure.

  When Lela went to bed, Rip stayed out on the terrace. She left him alone with his thoughts, torn apart by what he’d confided in her. Sleep didn’t come easily; her thoughts were of tragedy, and of the horrors perpetrated by the cartel. But they were also of Rip, and her heart ached for his loss—while her body ached for his touch.

  *****

  The next morning before breakfast, Rip got a call. “Hey, man…sure… okay. Yeah, we’re fine.”

  Lela watched him from across the table, admiring his broad shoulders and how his biceps strained against his shirt sleeves. She needed to get a grip. That kiss had rattled her.

  “Okay, will do.” Rip put his phone on the table. “That was my boss Travis.”

  “What did he have to say?”

  “Get me some photos. He’s got things arranged to get ID made, but wants a current picture. It’s better to have one of you with your disguise on. So he said to dress how you want to look, then get a good photograph. We can do that today, then I’ll transmit it digitally. Shouldn’t be long before we have a new ID for you.”

  “Okay, that can be our project for today—after breakfast,” Lela said, and grabbed some eggs from the fridge. “Eggs and bacon?”

  “Sure, I’ll make the coffee.”

  Rip busied himself with that task, not looking at Lela. He hadn’t mentioned the night before, and she certainly hadn’t brought it up. But when she looked at him, her body responded. For now, she just needed to get through breakfast.

  The food was fine, but Lela wasn’t all that hungry. She cleaned things up while Rip finished his eggs. Then she went to get what she’d need. With her disguise in a bag, she returned to find Rip standing on the terrace, looking out at the water.

  Lela stared at the wide V of his shoulders and his shapely ass. It was next to impossible not to stare. She was in so much trouble.

  Rip turned around. “Ready to go?”

  Lela took her place behind Rip on the motorcycle. “We’ll go up to Pasadena,” he said. “That’s the closest city with the kind of place we need. It’s far enough outside of Houston that we should be all right. And I’ll be with you every second.”

  The motorcycle sped over the country road, and Lela tightened her arms around Rip. She leaned her head against his back, glad that he was with her. Holding on to him felt so right. The touch made her insides turn to jelly.

  Lela couldn’t allow herself to fall for him. She reminded herself that this was all so temporary.

  After reaching the city, Rip drove to the main part of town and located the passport photo place. Once inside, a receptionist greeted them. A guy at a desk looked them over. Lela guessed that he was the photographer.

  Rip handled the paperwork while Lela went to the ladies’ room to transform her appearance. With the green lenses and her hair smoothed back, she looked quite different. She studied her image in the mirror. She’d taken care that morning to redesign her face with makeup. Even her own mother wouldn’t immediately recognize her.

  The photos didn’t take long. The photographer was a rough-looking guy in his late twenties, with tattoos on his arms. The photos were put on a tiny device Rip provided, then the guy handed it over, along with the print copies. On their way out, the receptionist thanked them for the business.

  Outside by the motorcycle, Rip plugged the device into his phone via a short, thin cord. “I’ll transmit these to Travis.”

  It only took a few seconds to send the pictures. “I haven’t seen any equipment like that before,” Lela said.

  “Nope, you wouldn’t have. It’s one of the toys we use in the security business.”

  Lela suspected that not every bodyguard had access to the same stuff that Rip did. But she didn’t ask. She figured that what he’d learned as a SEAL came in handy. That was all that mattered.

  *****

  Late in the evening, Rip got another call from Travis. The exchange was brief.

  “Okay, we’re set.” Rip said, turning back to Lela. “The ID is ready for pickup. But we’ll do it in the morning. I don’t want to lurk around at night; it’s trickier to spot your enemies in the dark.”

  Early the next morning, Rip told her to pack up. As he instructed, Lela wore her disguise. “It’s time to move around,” he said. “Your new ID opens up new options. Staying in one place too long can give a false sense of security.”

  Rip had his duffel with him, and she had her bag. He left the key to the cottage under a rock in the garden. Then Lela hopped on the bike and they headed up the road.

  At Magnolia Park, Rip made his way to the bus station and parked the bike. “It’s stashed in a locker here. I have the combination.” He took her hand. “We’re a couple, remember? Stay close.”

  Lela looked around. There were rows of painted metal seating, vending machines, and several open ticket windows.

  “Why are we picking it up here?” Lela said.

  “It’s a neutral location. I’m sure Travis has a contact in Houston, and
arranged to have the ID made then turned over to a courier to deliver here for pickup. Mailing isn’t secure. And it’s best if I don’t meet Travis’ contact. This is a good option,” Rip said. “We’ll retrieve the package from the locker and be on our way.”

  Rip seemed more alert than usual. Without being obvious, he took in his surroundings. While he’d had a few days alone with Lela, he’d given her some pointers. It was good to be aware if someone was following. There were signals to watch for, and he’d told her a few of them. Plus observing one’s surroundings was vital. He’d called it situational awareness.

  That seemed to be what Rip was doing. Lela held tightly to his hand and tried to maintain a casual attitude. This should be a quick, easy stop, then they’d be on their way.

  Rip rounded a corner, entering a room with a wall of lockers. There were lots of people; a few were utilizing lockers, some were milling about, and others were seated, either reading or looking bored.

  But Rip didn’t walk directly to the locker. He guided her in the direction of the door. “Stay calm,” he said, “but we’ve been made. Look straight ahead. I don’t want to alert him.”

  At an even pace, Rip strode to the door out to the buses. “Damn, the dude saw us.”

  Rip exited, then immediately turned the corner of the building and started jogging toward the front. Lela ran beside him. “Let’s hope the guy is checking the buses.”

  At the sidewalk, Rip didn’t stop. Lela ran across the street with him, barely missing getting hit by traffic. There was a taco joint, and Rip ducked inside with Lela. “To the back,” he said.

  Lela quickly followed him through the kitchen, where he nodded to the workers. “Sorry.” Then he shoved open the back door and took off running. Lela kept up for three blocks. Then he turned a corner and leaned against a building.

  “That was close.” Rip was breathing as hard as Lela was.

  “Is he following? What now?”

  Rip took her hand. “I vote for finding a cab and getting the hell out of here.”

  “What about the motorcycle?”

  “It was due to be returned. I didn’t want to keep it for an extended period. I’ll tell my buddy to have it picked up.”

  Along a main street, Rip flagged a cab and ushered Lela into the back seat. “Take us to the Hilton,” he said to the driver.

  The radio was on, tuned to a country music station. The noise provided privacy. “So what went wrong?” Lela said.

  “My guess is that the photographer recognized you. Wannabes are all over the city. A guy who wants to get in good with the gangs to prove himself. The cartel has ID made routinely, so has a list of contacts in their pocket. My guess is that word got out in the cartel grapevine, and the courier was compromised.”

  Lela’s belly tightened with anxiety. No place was safe.

  “I spotted more than one guy, so it’s good we weren’t forced to engage with them. We’ll get out of sight then figure out the next step.”

  “I’m low on cash,” Lela said. “The Hilton is pricey.”

  “I’ve got it covered. I have a company card that is secure. A high-class hotel is safer; less likely we’ll be found there.”

  Lela smiled, despite her roiling stomach. “We think alike.”

  Rip nodded. “In many ways.”

  “Unless you have a trick up your sleeve, and can magically get that new ID out of the locker, I guess we’ll have to hold off on being a couple for a while,” Lela said.

  Rip chuckled. “Guess so.” Then his expression turned serious. “There is one other thing, though. That guy will report back to his cartel contact that you weren’t alone, that some military-looking guy was with you. I’d hoped to avoid that for a bit longer. Now they’ll know you have help.”

  Chapter 9

  While Lela waited near the elevator, Rip got a room. He angled his body at the check-in counter so he could keep his eyes on her. Registering as a married couple didn’t even raise an eyebrow. Only his driver’s license was required, plus the credit card for incidentals during their stay.

  He grabbed the room key, and when Lela saw him walking over, she punched the button. As soon as the elevator doors closed, she looked at him. “Any problems?”

  “Nope…didn’t think there would be.” Being chased had a way of making a person uneasy. But the hotel was safe for now. The bad guys had caught on that Lela had a male with her, but so far they didn’t know his name.

  The name McConnell was okay to use for a while. It was easier to use a real name than a false one, as it avoided the potential of being discovered as a fake—which required some quick explaining.

  The room was on a top floor, down the hall from the elevator. Lela took a look at the one queen-sized bed and balked.

  “I’ll sleep on the sofa,” Rip said. “It pulls out into a bed.”

  Lela glanced up at the curtain hanging from the ceiling, which could be drawn to provide privacy. “Well, it’s not a door, but at least you won’t be watching me sleep.”

  “Maybe I snore,” Rip said. “Be thankful we aren’t in the same bed.”

  “If you snore, you’ll have to get a separate room. I’m a light sleeper.”

  Lela walked over to the bed and dumped her bag. Then she turned to look at Rip, and his heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t been able to get that kiss out of his mind. His blood heated as he remembered her soft lips against his. He could handle many more kisses from her…and much more than that.

  But he wasn’t about to make a move in that direction. Only an hour before, Lela had been seconds away from getting grabbed by the cartel’s minions. This wasn’t the time to get distracted with romance. Even if his body was reacting like that hot kiss was still happening.

  “You’ll need to wear your disguise whenever you’re out,” Rip said, shifting his thoughts back to business.

  Lela sat on the sofa. “That’s going to get old quick.”

  “I’m trying to keep you alive here,” Rip said. “And showing your face at the bus station was a mistake.” He pulled out the desk chair and turned it around, then sat resting his forearms on the tall back. “I didn’t predict that the cartel knew about the locker. That’s the last time I’ll underestimate them.”

  Lela looked fairly composed, despite the recent event. But Rip figured she had to be rattled. “Get comfortable,” he said. “Take a look around. I’m going to check in with the office.”

  Rip watched Lela pick up the courtesy bottled water and stroll toward the mini kitchen. He called Travis. “That ID didn’t work out so well.”

  “What was wrong with it?” Travis said.

  “Probably nothing…it’s just that I wasn’t able to get my hands on it.” Rip relayed the highlights of the incident. “We’re out of harm’s way now. But I thought you’d want to alert your contact not to use that courier again.”

  “Yeah, obviously he’s in the cartel’s pay,” Travis said. “On another subject, I have Cooper keeping tabs on the senator.”

  “Has he been behaving?”

  “So far the guy is keeping a low profile, but he hasn’t been out on bail that long. I’m the suspicious type.”

  “Unless he’s a bigger idiot than I thought, he’ll keep the criminal activity down to a dull roar until the trial.”

  “At least he’ll try not to get his own hands dirty…doesn’t mean he won’t be pulling the strings.” Travis paused. “So now what?”

  “Time to regroup; I’ll let you know,” Rip said. He glanced up and saw Lela go into the bathroom and shut the door. “And I appreciate the backup on this. I’ll cover any expenses, since I’m pretty sure that Lela isn’t in a position to pay for a security detail.”

  “Don’t sweat it. We’ll hash that out once she’s safe.”

  After the call, Lela came out and sauntered over. Rip wondered if she had any idea how sexy she was. “I don’t know about you,” he said, “but I could use a drink.”

  Lela leaned against the desk. “I’m not putting on that dis
guise.”

  “I meant we’d have drinks sent up to the room.”

  “Okay, but I need something stronger than wine or beer.”

  Rip picked up the hotel phone. “You got it.” He ordered a pitcher of margaritas. That should do it. It was best to stay in for the rest of the night. Later on, room service could provide dinner. It would give him an opportunity to consider the situation, and come up with a way to get a jump on the enemy.

  *****

  The next morning, Rip decided it was time to connect with his brother. He was up early, but let Lela sleep a little. The margaritas had relaxed her, and miraculously, Rip had refrained from kissing her last night. She’d been more worn out than she’d let on.

  Rip had watched a couple of movies with her, some of which she’d slept through. It had been good to see her get some rest. While mindlessly watching the tube, Rip’s mind hadn’t stopped. The trial was still months away, and keeping Lela out of harm’s way had proven to be a challenge.

  He needed better insight into the enemy camp, and Axel might be a decent source. Information that flowed in police circles wasn’t necessarily revealed to the public. There might be a few clues that would be of use.

  But he couldn’t show up at the police station with Lela. And it wasn’t smart to call, either. Rip’s phone was safe, but the police lines might not be. He considered the options, and ruled out going to his brother’s home and dragging him into this mess.

  The best plan was to meet in neutral territory, and Rip had an idea. He texted Axel’s cell phone number to Travis. Track that number and keep me informed of the owner’s location throughout today.

  Lela stirred in the other room. “Are you awake?”

  “I’m getting our day set up. Get dressed and I’ll fill you in,” Rip said. Then he arranged for a rental car to be delivered to the hotel. He’d need transportation in order to show up at a specific location on short notice.

  Rip ordered hot coffees and food to go. Once Lela was ready, he waited for the call that the car was downstairs. She sipped her coffee from the Styrofoam cup, while he filled her in on the plan.