Then it hit her.

Her entire body went tense as her vaginal muscles gripped him with such force that it should have been painful; instead it was amazing and wonderful. He thrust again, forcing his cock past the rigid layers of muscle, each delicious touch tantalizing and torturing until he reached his limit. Sean exploded into her body.

He grunted, and his hips spasmed violently as he shot his seed. All thought ceased as pleasure rushed through him and he squeezed her until she cried out in protest. Slowly he came down, taking in deep breaths and collapsing on to her body. He felt something pushing at him, and he realized it was her hands.

Why was she pushing him away?

Sean rolled off her and she turned away from him quickly. Her shoulders shuddered, and he realized she was crying. What the hell? He touched her back hesitantly, suddenly out of his realm. He liked whores because they didn’t cry. Or if they did, he dismissed them. What was going on here?

She shook her head as he rubbed her shoulder, then she sat up, wiping the tears away from her face. Her skin was blotchy and her nose ran. Not pretty crying, certainly not done for effect. He opened his mouth to speak and she cut him off with one raised hand. He bit back his question, trying to figure out what to do next.

“Can we please just get some rest?” she asked softly, wiping the back of her hand across her face once more.

He nodded his head hesitantly, utterly confused. She rolled into a small ball facing away from him, pulling up the silken sheets to her chin. Sean watched her for another moment in puzzled silence, then turned away and rolled off the bed. They had a long flight ahead of them, maybe she was right. Sleep would be good. He was far more relaxed now than he’d been in months. Safer, too.

He walked across the room, allowing himself to enjoy the feeling of the plush carpet between his toes.

Casually he flicked off the dim emergency lights and then returned to the bed. He hadn’t lost his sense of direction in prison, he noted wryly. If anything he was even more attuned to moving without being seen after spending five years in shared cells.

He made it back to the bed and crawled in. Her crying had died down, leaving only the occasional muffled hiccup in its wake. Definitely not crying to get attention.

He lay there in the darkness for what seemed like hours until she fell asleep. Then he curled himself around her, pulling her into the circle of his arms, and letting his head rest against the soft mass of her hair.

Damn, she smelled good. His cock stirred in interest, but he stayed still.

There would be plenty of time to play with her more when the arrived in San Beneficio. Hopefully she’d stop crying, too.

* * *

Sandra came awake slowly, unsure of where she was. The bed was soft and comfortable, but there was a strange humming noise all around her. The floor dropped, then came back up beneath her, and she realized she must be on a plane.

But what kind of plane had a bed?

A soft snore drifted into her consciousness, and startling her awake. She wasn’t alone. Memories of the night before filled her mind. She looked around the room, startled that it could be real. Where was she, and how could she escape?

She turned to look at the big man sleeping beside her. His long, dark hair spilled across the pillow, hiding his face from her. She shifted, feeling sticky between her thighs.

Shit.

She’d had sex with him and they hadn’t used any protection. Visions of HIV filled her head, followed by the thought of a black haired baby. Or worse yet, a black-haired baby with HIV.

She clutched one hand to her stomach and moaned in horror. How had this happened to her?

He shifted and she stilled. The last thing she needed was for him to wake up. The longer he slept, the happier she’d be. Moving carefully so as not to disturb the bed, she slid out from between the sheets and walked back toward the tiny bathroom. Dark humor pierced her cloud of unhappiness as she noted that even rich people had to make due with small bathrooms on airplanes. Still, it was a very expensive plane.

She had no doubt that her mysterious captor and his friends had money.

She stepped into the tiny shower and cleaned herself quickly, trying to rub herself free of the residue of his touch. She scrubbed extra hard at her breasts and between her legs, punishing her traitorous flesh for enjoying his attentions so much. When she’d decided to martyr her virtue to stay alive, she hadn’t counted on enjoying it. Sean was definitely the best lover she’d ever had, and she didn’t like that one bit.

It wasn’t fair.

Life is not fair, Sandra reminded herself as she stepped out of the shower. She pulled out a plush towel out of a cupboard and dried herself off, noticing a stack of thick terrycloth bathrobes above the towels.

Just what she needed. Concealing, comfortable, and utterly unsexy.

She pulled on the robe and walked back out into the bedroom. It was light outside, but the shades drawn over the windows kept things dim. She stood for a moment, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Before she could see anything, he spoke.

“Feeling better?” he asked slowly, and the sound sent a tingle rushing down her spine. Sternly she reminded herself he was the bad guy. Bad guys shouldn’t have voices like that—it wasn’t fair.

“Yes, thank you,” she said. As her eyes adjusted she made her way over to a chair, then sat down in it as demurely as possible.

He leaned forward in the bed, covers falling to his waist, and she made herself look away.

“You want to come back to bed?” he asked. “We’ve still got a while before we land, and I could use another roll.”

She closed her eyes against the surge of longing his words lit in her. This wasn’t right.

“Do I have to?” she asked bluntly. He looked startled.

“Why should you care?” he asked. “You’ll get paid, I already promised you that. I guess my promises don’t mean very much to you, do they?”

She shook her head.

“I’ll do what it takes to survive,” she said slowly. “But I’m concerned about health and safety. We didn’t use protection last night. Do you realize that I could already be pregnant? Not to mention AIDS.”

He froze, peering at her closely through the darkness.

“You aren’t on the pill?” he asked quickly. “I don’t have AIDS, so I’m not worried about that. Unless you have it?”

She pondered telling him she did, but figured that might set him off.

“No, I’m clean,” she said slowly. “But I’m not on the pill.”

“Is that really wise for someone in your profession?”

She gave a brief, harsh laugh. She hadn’t had sex since Matt, and here Sean thought she did this every day. It would be funny if it wasn’t so damn pathetic. She couldn’t say that to him, of course. Safety lay in making him believe she was a professional who knew how to take money and keep her mouth shut.

“I prefer to use condoms,” she said simply, looking down at her folded hands. “It’s just always seemed a lot smarter to me. Protects against disease, you know.”

He nodded his head, eyes filled with a speculative look.

“Sure,” he said. “I have no problem with that.”

Silence fell between them. There was a knock at the door.

“Yes?” he asked, his voice sharp and businesslike.

The door opened a crack, and Valzar stuck his head in.

“I know you’re busy,” he said in accented tones. “But I think you should come out and see me. I’ve got some good news for you.”

Sean nodded and slid out of bed, apparently unconcerned by his nudity.

“Stay here,” he told her with a trace of humor in his voice. “Valzar, you got any clothing in here I can use?”

“In the drawer,” Valzar said, nodding his head toward the built-in dresser. “I brought some just for you.

I’ll be out front.”

With that he closed the door behind him and the room fell silent again. Sean pulled on his clothes and left without a word.

* * *

Valzar sat in one of the large, comfortable-looking chairs, a laptop computer propped open in front of him. He looked like a businessman, flying to some important meeting, but he was no ordinary businessman. Sean marveled again at his friend’s ingenuity. How had he wangled diplomatic immunity?

“Good news,” Valzar said, flashing Sean a grin. “Did you know you’re dead?”

“Already?” Sean asked. “They move fast. How did it happen?”

“Well, according to our friends at the CIA, you stole a small plane from the airport and disappeared soon afterward. The wreckage will be found outside Fort Wiconda in about three days, and your body will be recovered. They’re not too happy about the fact that you took a hostage, by the way.”

“Oh really?” Sean asked, dropped into the chair across from Valzar. “I suppose it complicates things on their end?”

“That’s the gist of this message,” Valzar replied with a quick smile. “Apparently they’re doing some fast work to trace her down and get enough information to fake her death believably. They said that it would have been a lot easier if you’d just killed her. At least then they’d have a body. I can see their point.”

He shot Sean a pointed look. Sean sighed, and then closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

“I didn’t want to kill her,” he said. “There’s been too much killing already, and she didn’t do anything to deserve it.”

“You’ve always been soft,” Valzar said, his face growing serious. “But your little toy is going to get us in trouble. She’s the only one who knows you aren’t dead, and that’s going to cause serious problems. You can’t let her go home and you can’t trust her. What are you going to do with her, keep her forever?”

Sean shook his head, knowing Valzar was right. But when he thought about closing those brown, pixie eyes forever, he couldn’t do it. Not now. Maybe later.

“She’s my problem, not yours,” he said finally. “She can’t tell anyone anything as long as she’s with me; you have nothing to fear from her.”

Valzar nodded his head.

“That’s certainly true,” he said. “But I’m worried about you. I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to save your sorry hide, and I’d hate to see you blow it for a woman.”

“I’m a big boy,” Sean replied. “I can take care of her when the time comes.”

Chapter Six

Heat pressed down like a pillow, muffling her breath.

She couldn’t remember ever feeling such heat, and such punishing humidity. Thank God the car was air conditioned, Sandra thought grimly. Otherwise she’d be dead by now.

She and Sean sat in the backseat of a Lexus SUV, a far cry from her worn Honda. Valzar sat in the passenger seat, drumming his fingers idly against his leg. Their driver, a tall, dark-featured man with a scarred lip, drove in silence. In fact, she hadn’t heard him say a single word since he’d picked them up at the airport. She hadn’t seen Del.

She wanted to ask where they were going, but judging from the looks Valzar had given her before, conversation wasn’t a good idea. He seemed to take her presence as a personal insult, so instead of talking she watched out the window as they drove. She was pretty sure they were in South America. The accents and climate told her that much. They had landed on a small airstrip in the mountains. Now they were traveling through dense jungle, and she could only see the road ahead. Trees and foliage surrounded them on both sides, making the way nearly passable.

“Almost there,” Valzar said from the front seat. “You can stay as long as you like, of course. When you’re ready to discuss your future and other options, let me know. I’ve got some ideas we can look into.”

Even as he spoke, they came around a bend in the road into a clearing. Perched on a hillside before them was a white, stucco-covered villa four times the size her parents’ house had been. Two wings extended to either side, accented gracefully by the explosion of tropical flowers from the well-manicured bushes.

“It’s paradise,” she said softly, then blushed as both men turned to her. Sean smiled; Valzar’s expression was more difficult to read.

“We’re hundreds of miles from the nearest town,” Valzar said. “This jungle is filled with animals that would love to kill and eat you. Don’t think for one moment that there’s any way for you to get away unless we send a plane for you.”

She bit her lip and looked away. Sean nudged her and grinned.