Chapter Thirty-Two

Chance looked ruggedly handsome by candlelight. After he’d taken care of Gallo, fed him, watered him, and let him outside to take care of his business, they’d settled in Chance’s office to watch York’s video clip. It reduced her to tears. Chance had been compensating ever since.

Suede lay facing him now in his stylish extra-wide hammered-copper bathtub, the one she hadn’t known about until tonight. Guess those other doors in his bedroom weren’t all closets.

She’d never seen such a lavish thing, nor had she ever seen a more glorious male in the nude. After he’d filled it, she’d lit the array of white candles on the windowsill. He thought his scars were ugly, but she had no problem with any of them. If anything, she loved them. They’d made him the man he was right now. What a sight.

He took up half the seventy-eight inch long tub, and his bulky male-body made her feel delicate. Like a lady. Like a treasure. She needed that since they’d viewed York’s disgusting video. The jerk who’d held the camera, Pablo or Philip, had filmed the show from the edge where she’d fallen. They’d planned it, all of them, and the camera had caught everything. The terror in her eyes when York knocked her down. Her desperate scream when she’d slipped over the edge. The raw fear when she knew he meant to kill her. The stupid hope in her eyes when she’d reached for him, begging him to save her. Thinking he would.

The camera had even caught York’s vicious kick and the way her head had jerked back on her spine upon impact. The clip ended with York leaning over the edge, his hand cupped to his mouth, bellowing as she fell, “See you at the bottom!”

If that wasn’t ugly enough, York had then turned to his men, dusted his gloved palms together and said. “Anyone hungry?” Like he hadn’t just murdered a woman. Like she’d meant nothing.

Chance had taken over then. He’d scooped her up and smothered her with kisses before she dissolved into tears. He’d wiped her eyes so tenderly, and he hadn’t let go of her since, not even when they’d made love. Twice. Both times he’d used a condom, which made her smile despite the gloomy mood she hadn’t quite shaken. She needed to tell him she was on birth control. He’d just seemed so earnest in protecting her that she hadn’t had the heart, but she planned to. Any minute now.

Being with him like this freed Suede in ways she was just realizing. Smiling became a tiny bit easier now that the whole truth was finally out. Well, most of the truth anyway. And love really did cure a person’s soul. Suede could feel her heart thawing. How could it not with the care Chance lavished on her? He hadn’t said the word yet, but his feelings showed in everything he did.

But who knew rappelling down a granite mountainside could be so scary or so fun? He’d shown her a whole new world today, and it was clean and bright and safe. Like him. He didn’t do drugs, not even the prescription kind, and he believed in honor, his mother, and his country. His brothers. Me.

It wasn’t until they were halfway down the mountain, right at the edge of the stone ledge that looked like giant toes from below, that she’d solved the mystery of her lack of more serious injuries. It wasn’t the wind that had saved her that night. It was one of Chance’s guide lines, now stained with her blood from where her leg had hooked it on the way down. Somehow, it had slowed her momentum but it had also ripped her jeans and her thigh. The moment she’d spied the bloody evidence, the horror of her fall came back in a rush. Thank God for Chance. He hadn’t left her side all day, and that was—enough.

Tears threatened yet again at how much he cared for her, but Suede dashed them away before they got out of hand. It had been a long day, and her body wasn’t in shape for the endurance test she’d put it through.

“We need to talk,” he murmured, his arms stretched along the edges of the tub and his fingertips tapping.

What a sight. If she lived to be a hundred, she’d never get tired of looking at this man’s body. Rock solid muscle stretched from his shaggy head to his bare feet. The calves on this man! And that glorious chest—all male muscle and all power.

“About what?” she asked as she sunk to her nose in the already twice-heated water. They’d started out with bubbles, but that was an hour ago.

“Protection. I didn’t use a condom the first time.” He ran his fingers through his wet hair, carving trails that dripped water onto his shoulders and into his brows. “All my fault. I got carried away.”

Suede lifted her lips above water level. “I’m on birth control. We’re safe.”

His brows knitted together over eyes turned more chocolate brown than caramel amber in the candlelight. “Don’t get me wrong. If we’re pregnant, I’d be thrilled, but I’d like to make life-changing decisions together, preferably when you’re healthy. Babies and mothers deserve a man who can control his impulses. Since you’ve come along” —he shook his head, spraying her with droplets from his hair— “I’m not that man.”

Back under the water she went, blowing kisses at him that morphed into bubbles. He’d said ‘if we’re pregnant’, not ‘if you’re pregnant.’ That was another reason to love this guy. He took children seriously. He’d make such a good dad.

He had yet to say he loved her though, and Suede understood why. He’d already told her. ‘Deployments are tough on married guys. I’ve watched plenty go through divorces. Why would I do that to a woman?’ So she waited.

This thing between them was a rare treat in her emotionally impoverished life. She wasn’t ready to walk away from it. Not the way lust simmered in his amber eyes, the way they turned dark and needy when he wanted her. The way he held her in both of his big hands like a treasure. With him, she felt like a gift, not garbage, and maybe it was selfish, but she needed this connection with an honest man for once in her life.

Cupping his fingers Chance splashed her, and the fight was on. At the end of it, she wound up giggling on his lap, her back pressed to his chest, and another round of hot water gurgling out of the tap. She rubbed the side of her head against his cheek, her breasts cupped by his slender fingers and her nipples hard knots of lust. She had it so, so bad. Yet she knew he was troubled. “Something’s bothering you.”

His grunt percolated through her body. “Aye. This isn’t over yet. I hope you realize that.”

She nodded, snuggling into him for more warmth, more of the ‘I belong with you’ feeling she’d found in his arms. “Dad’s behind all this, isn’t he?”

“I’m not sure how much, but yes, Mick Tennyson’s involved. I talked with my boss. He okayed me telling you what I know since you’re intimately involved with a couple of the players.”

Wiggling her ass against him, Suede purred, “I beg your pardon. I’m only intimately involved with one player. You.”

Chance sank lower in the tub, groaning enough that she felt the vibration to her core. “Ready again?”

“Always. For you.” Suede leaned the back of her head against his collarbone, relishing the way her body sprang to life at his touch. Her fingers drifted alongside his massive thighs, petting what she could reach while he cupped, pinched, and rolled her nipples, driving her back to the edge of passion as the water lapped at their bodies. “So tell me. Who is your boss?” she asked hoarsely.

“McQueen Sullivan,” Chance muttered, his voice thick with desire. “What you do to me, woman.” He nuzzled the crook of her ticklish neck. “What was I talking about?”

She giggled, secretly thrilled at the power she had over this giant of a man. “You were telling me about your boss, and that this mess with York and my dad isn’t over.”

“Right. So…” Chance must not have been as distracted as Suede thought. He kept his hands on her breasts as he talked. “This is what we know so far. York missed his meeting with one Benito Garcia and his bodyguard, Julio Juarez, both from Colombia. They work for the grandson of a German immigrant and the drug lord vying for territory, Wilhelm Gonzales.”

“That name sounds more German than Spanish.”

“Right. Wilhelm’s grandfather was one of Hitler’s SS guards before leaving the homeland after World War II.” Chance’s thumbs rolled over both her nipples before he cupped her breasts together, his chin hooked over her shoulder while he watched what his hands were busy doing. “He made an honest living, but Gonzales runs a wicked ship, meaning he punishes anyone who gets in his way. Beheadings, torture, you name it. He’s set himself up as a dictator in his part of the country, and he’s looking to expand.”

Suede listened as intently as she could, a difficult task with Chance toying with her body, lighting her up.

“My boss thinks there’s a connection, a family tie between Gonzales and York.”

“Because they’re both from Germany?”

“That and because they’re both in the same business. Not every wannabe from the States gets invited into a Colombian drug ring. Then there’s your father, Mick...” Chance cleared his throat as he thumbed the tender peaks he’d just driven into pulsating knots that craved the warm, wet recesses of his mouth. “I know for a fact York had a contract on him, and it had nothing to do with you. Apparently your old man’s been in touch with a couple nasty players, the Rio Brothers. They’re flat out hired-killers, also from Colombia. My guess is York wanted your dad dead, either that or Garcia pushed for the hit. Mick fired back by bringing his own hired guns into Oregon.”

Suede was afraid to ask, but she needed to know. “Whom do those brothers work for if they’re just hired guns?”

“Viktor Patrone, the Godfather of all Colombian drug trade. He snaps his fingers, and someone drops dead. Except for Gonzales, the only dealers in his country are the ones he allows.”

“Which means they owe him a tribute or something.” She didn’t know the right name for protection money, but that was close enough. Chance knew what she meant.

“Bingo, only the word from my contact down south is Gonzales refuses to pay. That Patrone hasn’t offed him yet is a puzzle.”

That didn’t sound good. “What’s my dad thinking? So now, Patrone’s moving his cartel north, too?”

“He’s trying, but one helluva battle for territory is about to break loose in Portland. This war will get bloody. My brothers are supposed to tie up the loose ends—”

“Which means they’re supposed to, what do you say—off everyone involved?”

Chance shook his head, sending ripples down to her toes. “Just the Rio boys. They’ve got no business bringing their war to America.”

“What about that Benito guy? Garcia? And Patrone?”

“Patrone and Gonzales haven’t set foot in America yet, and Kruze will take care of Garcia. Kruze knows his bodyguard, Juarez. They went through BUD/S together, that’s Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL in case you didn’t know.”

“He’s a Navy SEAL, too?”

Chance grunted. “No, Juarez is chicken shit. Couldn’t handle BUD/S. He rang out, quit the Navy, then moved south to work for Gonzales. That tells me all I need to know about the jerk.”

“So your brothers are going up against the godfather’s main muscle? All by themselves?”

“We have no choice, Suede. We can’t allow mobsters from South America to run roughshod over America. If Patrone and Gonzales want a war, they’ll get one.”

“But what if Pagan and Kruze get hurt?” How could Chance lay here with her when his baby brothers were running headlong into danger?

“Believe me, they’re good at what they do, Suede. I’m not worried. If you had clearance, the stories I could tell you about those guys.”

“You need to get me that clearance then.”

He nodded, his fingers flexed over her breasts in a gentle caress, his thumbs strumming her nipples. “I already suggested that to my boss.”

“But my dad’s involved with Patrone? Why? What’s he getting out of this?”

“Don’t yet know,” Chance admitted. “A while back, he filled several Port Authority vacancies with York’s men, but they must’ve had some kind of falling out since then.” He dipped his hands underwater. “Now that York’s gone, it remains to be seen what your dad does. It’s interesting though. York wasn’t stupid, yet he ended up stranded on Old Man Mountain instead of being airlifted to safety. He said he didn’t know who was behind that debacle, but suspected it was someone more powerful than Patrone.”

Suede shivered. “Who’s more powerful than an evil drug lord?”

“That’s the million dollar question. Wish to hell we knew.”

She rolled to her side, her breasts chilled and missing the fiery touch of Chance’s talented fingers, but her libido revved on high. Dropping her ass below water she laid her head on his chest and wound her arms around his sides. “You’re right. York deserved what he got.”

Chance cupped a wet hand to her head. “That he did.”

“Are you going to leave him out there?”

“Don’t worry. Sullivan’s got a good clean-up crew. He’ll take care of it.”

“But what if someone comes looking for him before then?”

“They’ll find exactly what they would’ve found if it had been you laying out there.” Chance pressed a warm kiss to her forehead. “Put it out of your mind. It’s done.”

“I’m not worried about him. Only you,” she murmured through a yawn. “I don’t want anyone coming after you. Are you ready for bed yet?” Because I sure am.

A sexy chuckle rumbled deep in Chance’s chest. “I thought you’d never ask.” He toed the drain plug. As the water funneled out of the tub, he lifted Suede to her feet and wrapped her in a bath sheet. “It’s been quite a day.”

“It has,” she purred, her ear over his heart listening to the steady beat of an honest man, “and it’s going to be a better night.”