Shadows and Silk Read online

  “What happened to the agent?” Darcy asked, more perceptive than he was comfortable with.

  Brant sighed and looked out the window for threats as he answered. “Donovan Jax was tortured and killed by Ramos. Someone sold the information to Ramos and blew his cover. We know it was internal, but we don’t know from what agency.”

  “Jax?” Darcy asked. “Isn’t that Jade’s last name?”

  “Donovan was her husband. There was hardly enough body left for her to bury by the time Ramos finished with him, but they didn’t break him. He was a good agent. A good friend.”

  “It has to be hard on her to keep working in the same field.”

  Brant turned to look at her, and he didn’t know if he was trying to scare her away or give her a warning, but she paled at his words. “We all know the risks of this job. Life is finite no matter how you live it. You can either move forward or you can let the terrible things you see bury you. Donovan Jax knew the chances he was taking, and he knew there’d be a possibility he’d leave his wife a widow. And she knew them too. Jade has more reason than anyone to want to capture Ramos.”

  “Too bad that won’t bring her husband back.”

  “Sometimes justice is all there is,” he said.

  The road past the police barriers was deeply rutted, and dust flew up and coated the sides of the Jeep. The jungle speared up all around them, completely circling the ruins on all sides.

  “Bonampak is much smaller than the site of Yaxchilan just down the road,” Darcy said. “But the site itself is just as important. The Temple of Murals is here.” She shivered next to him. “It’s like a ghost town. I’ve never seen it deserted before.”

  Smith drove the Jeep through the trees and finally parked about a half a mile from the site so no one would see their vehicle if the police were doing drive-bys.

  “Let’s make this quick,” Brant said as they got out of the car.

  Smith and Huxley split in opposite directions, and Brant pushed Darcy towards the site, his weapon up just in case. The quiet was unnerving—just the occasional chatter of birds.

  “Shane said they drew the glyphs at the top of the Temple of Murals on the outside wall facing east. Bastards,” she muttered. “They obviously have no care for preserving their heritage.”

  Brant looked at her incredulously as he kept her in the cover of the trees. “Darlin’, these men would kill their own mothers if they were paid enough. I think their heritage is the last thing they care about preserving.”

  “Well,” she said primly, making his mouth twitch, “They should.”

  They stood in the trees about twenty feet from the base of the Temple of Murals—a long structure with a pyramid base where crumbling steps on all four sidesled to the temples on top. Brant knew as soon as they started climbing the stairs they’d be sitting ducks for anyone wanting to take a shot at them until they reached the enclosed rooms at the top. Work was being done on some of the lower structures, and support poles and tents were set around them.

  “Are we going to the very top?” he asked, assessing the situation and then catching Smith’s all clear signal from the corner of his eye.

  “The very top,” she affirmed. “You can see for miles from up there. It’s very beautiful.”

  He grunted and grabbed her elbow, his steps quick as he ushered her to the base of the structure. “We’ll use the tented areas for cover if you can’t make it to the top without a break.”

  “I beg your pardon,” Darcy said, clearly offended. “I’m in excellent shape.”

  “Lead the way, sugar. I’m right behind you.” Which might have been the worst mistake he’d ever made, come to think of it, because keeping his eyes off Darcy’s ass and on the surrounding areas was a lot harder than it should have been. But she’d been right about one thing—she was in excellent shape—and by the time they reached the top of the temple and ducked into the first room, he was so hard he could barely walk. The combination of adrenaline and the thought of cupping those round globes in his hands and sliding into her from behind was enough to make him insane with lust.

  “Here we go,” she said, moving through the room with familiarity.

  There was another door in the opposite wall from the one they’d come in, and she slipped out and knelt down near the area Shane had marked on the map for her. Brant knelt beside her, so they were smaller targets, but kept watch across the jungle. It wouldn’t be long before Max and Declan were into position, but he wouldn’t be able to find them in the dense trees. He just trusted that they’d be where they said.

  The glyphs were small, and drawn in what looked like charcoal. Darcy dug through her bag and put her glasses on, and he felt the slow burn of desire roll through his stomach and to his loins.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Nothing.” The reply came out terser than he’d meant.

  “Do you see someone?” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Why’d you get so still?”

  “For God’s sake, Darcy. Just stay focused on the glyphs. You’d argue with the Pope.”

  “I have a right to know if we’re in danger.”

  “If you must know, I get hard as a rock every time you put those glasses on, and if you don’t hurry up so we can get out of here I’m going to bend you over that altar in the middle of your precious temple.”

  Her mouth opened in a silent O, and her pupils dilated so only a thin rim of blue showed. Color flushed her cheeks and she lowered her gaze back to the glyphs while he tried to find a comfortable position without strangling his cock.

  “The jaguar runs to the north,” Darcy murmured under her breath, tracing the glyph. “The hawk flies from the west. And the deer is sacrificed at the temple of our brethren.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Brant asked.

  “They’re making it a game. Like a scavenger hunt. The jaguar and the hawk are the dealer and the buyer. The deer is the victim. And the temple is where she was found. They laid her out right on the front steps of Santo Domingo. These glyphs here,” she said pointing to the last four, “are coordinates. In case they can’t decipher the riddle. We’ve missed some.”

  “Missed what?” Brant asked, following her back inside.

  “Glyphs. There have to be more Donovan Jax didn’t know about before his death. How long since he was killed?”

  “About six months,” Brant said, watching as she pulled her map out of her backpack and went back inside the temple. She spread it the map across the altar he’d threatened to take her on.

  “Look,” she said, grabbing a pen. “We’re here, and the clue leads to Chiapa de Corzo, more than a six hour drive away. But that’s where our victim was found early this morning. A couple of hours later, five girls were kidnapped from their resort near the ruins at Lagatero.” She placed big X’s over the two areas. “Now let’s go back over the past few months.”

  She mumbled under her breath while she checked her notes and kept making marks on the map. They were there long enough for the sun to change positions, and he ignored the heat as he kept watch while she worked out the puzzle. And then he finally saw the pattern.

  “Son of a bitch. We missed some of the clues,” he said, shaking his head. “But only after Donovan died. No wonder Ramos paid so much to have the mole in organization brought forward. When Donovan was feeding us intel, Ramos wasn’t able to test the drugs like he needed to.”

  It seemed obvious now that he was looking at it. It was like a scavenger hunt. The clues were drawn, sending the dealers to the new locations where the buyers would be met and a victim taken, and then the dealers would leave a new set of clues in or near the location where they left the body, probably at Ramos’s instruction, leading the next group of dealers to the next drop spot. He never used the same group of men in a row, and if you didn’t find the glyphs marking the spot, then the killings couldn’t be anticipated.

  Excitement poured off Darcy in waves, and he realized he had a great deal of pride in her for what she’d
discovered. Declan had been right after all. They’d needed her on this mission.

  “Don’t you understand?” she asked, her eyes shining with hope and everything that was good and honest. “We need to search the area where the girls were taken. They’ll have left instructions for where they’re taking them for the next set of dealers.”

  She had him under a spell. That was the only explanation he could think of as he felt his chest bursting with some foreign emotion. Darcy belonged to him. And he belonged to her. If she didn’t want to get married then that was fine, but she’d be the one to explain to their children why she wouldn’t marry him. He wasn’t going anywhere at the end of six months. He could trust her. And that was as good as love in his book.

  “Brant, are you listening to me?” she asked, a look of concern crossing her face. “Are you okay?”

  The sun casting shadows now, and the orange glow shot shafts of brilliant light into the small cutout door of the temple, distorting the colors of the faded frescoes on the wall and spotlighting the altar in the center of the room, just as it was meant to. Sunset was a sacred time of the day. A time for worship and reflection. And he wanted nothing more than to see Darcy bathed in the light from the setting sun.

  His hand touched just above her wrist, and he circled his fingers over the pulse there, making gentle strokes until he felt it racing beneath her skin. Her eyes opened wide and her lips parted on a soft gasp as a realization of what he wanted heated her cheeks. Her nipples were erect beneath the thin shirt she wore, and perspiration glistened across her skin from the heat inside the temple.

  “Brant.” She breathed out his name like a sigh. “We can’t. The others—”

  “I need to taste you.” He pulled her into his embrace so their bodies touched, and he knew one taste would never be enough. “Just for a little while. We’re safe for now. It’s just you and me on top of the world. There’s no one else.”

  They were words meant to convince—to seduce—but he was the one falling under her spell. She had that power over him. He wanted to remember this moment—the way the sun kissed her skin and the way her breath hitched when his hand touched the sensitive skin at the crook of her elbow. The way she melted against him when he bent his head and touched his lips to hers, as if it were the first time.

  The taste of her went to his head. She was ambrosia and heat and sex, and he couldn’t help the way his body responded—the way he deepened the kiss and insisted on her surrender. But Darcy wasn’t one to give in without a fight. Her tongue stroked his, sucking him into her mouth, and he groaned as he felt her hands slip under his shirt. She traced the scar on his back and he froze, feeling the control slip from his grasp. He shook his head, fighting against the need to hold her arms down, and then her fingers moved on as she began placing light, teasing kisses across his jaw and down his neck.

  “God, Darcy,” he groaned. “Touch me.” He craved the heat of her hands against his skin, the way she could soothe or incite with a glance of fingers.

  His mouth fused to hers and he lifted her, setting her down on the stone altar. His fingers threaded through her hair, pressing her closer, closer, and he knew whatever feelings were rioting inside of him were something he’d never experienced before. This was making love at its most basic—the joining of two bodies and two souls to become one.

  “You make me dizzy,” she said, her words slurred as if she’d had too much champagne. “What are you doing to me?”

  “What I should have done the first time we were together,” he rasped out, his heart pounding in his chest. He unbuttoned his shorts to give himself room, but this wasn’t about his pleasure or how fast he could find it. It was about hers.

  He flicked open the button of her shorts and slid them down her legs and over her boots. The white lace panties she wore were damp, and he could smell the musky scent of her desire. His fingers trailed up her legs and she shivered beneath his touch. Her flesh pebbled and she gasped as he stopped just short of touching the lace covered mound between her thighs.

  “Please,” she begged.

  “Patience, love,” he whispered. “I want to see all of you.” He grasped the bottom of her shirt and pulled it over her head, baring her breasts. Her nipples were dusky pink and tightened into small buds, and her chest heaved as her anticipation grew.

  “Lay back,” he commanded, and watched her while his cock grew painfully hard at the sight of her stretched out on the stone slab. “You’re so beautiful. You take my breath away.” Her skin glowed in the fading sunlight, and she looked like a Pagan goddess stretched out before him.

  He wanted to wait—to savor—but he knew their time was short. He knelt between her thighs, breathing her in before placing a soft kiss on the damp lace.

  “Mmm,” she moaned, her hands clenched around each side of the stone slab.

  His fingers found the elastic band of her panties and he pulled them off quickly, letting them drop to the ground. The soft curls covering her mound were dewy and he could see the cream of her desire coating her pussy lips. Just a little taste, he thought. It would have to be enough.

  His tongue swiped through the folds once—twice—and he spread her legs wider as her hips began to push against his face.

  “So sweet, baby,” he rasped. “I’ve never tasted anything sweeter.” His tongue circled her clit and then dipped down into the dripping slit of her pussy, spreading her juices all around. And then his mouth clamped over the taut, swollen bud and he began to suckle, flicking his tongue as fast as he could and bringing her to a screaming climax.

  “Shh,” he crooned. “You don’t want me to stop, do you?” He slowed his licks, building the tension inside her once more.

  “Don’t stop.”

  His finger joined his tongue, and he slid it inside of her to the first knuckle, loving the way she clamped around him. She was so tight, and she was swollen from her first orgasm, and even the thought of working his cock into that vise-like heat had him breaking out in a sweat. He joined a second finger to the first and scissored them, stretching her for his invasion.

  Her body began to tremble, and he knew she was just on the edge again. He gave her clit one last kiss and then removed his fingers.

  “Nooo,” she moaned, sounding close to tears as he left her.

  “Just for a second, baby.” He stood between her splayed thighs and pushed his shorts down around his hips, his cock springing free from the confinement. He didn’t think he’d ever been this hard in his life, and his balls were drawn up so tight to his body he didn’t know if he’d be able to last past the initial thrust.

  He gripped his cock at the base and squeezed tight, and then he began kissing his way up her belly and over the swollen mounds of her breasts. His teeth grazed each nipple, and her hips began to buck wildly beneath him.

  “Now,” she begged. “Please—”

  Brant pulled her to the edge of the stone slab and pushed her knees back so they rested on either side of her breasts. She was wide open to him, and when he stood straight his cock was at the perfect position. He placed her hands on her knees so she was the one holding them in place, and then he took his cock in his hand and rubbed the head through the glistening juices of her vagina.

  And when he speared through the waiting lips and began to push inside, he wondered how anything could ever feel more perfect than this woman wrapped around him—how he’d ever thought anyone else could be more than a paltry substitute.

  “You’re so tight,” he said through gritted teeth, his hips flexing with each push into her body. She was slick with desire, more than ready for him, and impatience finally got the better of his control. He slid to the hilt with one strong push, and she gasped and cried out as he filled her.

  “Put your legs around me,” he said.

  Sweat ran down his temple as he leaned over her, kissing and suckling at her breasts as her ankles crossed behind his back. He kissed his way up her neck, and each time he kissed a new place on her body it somehow pushed h
im deeper inside of her. Her vaginal walls fluttered around his cock, and he knew she could come without him thrusting at all. Just by being full and heavy inside of her.

  “Open those eyes, baby. I want to watch you climb.” Their bodies were bathed in the orange glow of the fading sun, and he held her face between his hands and kissed her lips gently as her eyelids fluttered open. Brilliant blue stared back at him, and then he began to move, thrusting in long, measured strokes that were more of a caress than a coupling.

  The flutters in her womb turned to ripples, and their breaths became more labored as he pushed them both closer to the precipice. But he kept his hands on her face, and his eyes steady on hers. He didn’t know what she saw in his eyes, but she began to shake her head, to try to break hold of his grasp. But he didn’t budge.

  “Darcy,” he whispered as his hips began to pump faster and her legs tightened around his waist.

  And then her mouth opened on a silent scream and she threw her head back as the ripples turned into waves of undulating ecstasy around his cock. Her pussy tightened around him to an almost painful degree, but he still kept his strokes steady, wanting to give her every last drop of pleasure before he took his own.

  “I love you,” she cried out, lost to her own desire. She repeated the words over and over again, and that was all it took to send him over the edge.

  Her love was a heady sensation, going straight to his head as he felt the come shooting from his cock and filling her womb. And as his strength gave out and he collapsed on top of her, he realized that there was still hope of her not walking away after all.

  Chapter Eleven

  They dressed quickly and in silence, and Darcy didn’t dare look at Brant as she gathered her belongings and stuffed them back in her backpack. How could she be so stupid as to say the words aloud? The slipup left her without any protection for her own heart, and she waited, the tension coiling in her shoulders, for Brant to denounce her claim as unreal. As a lie. As if she didn’t know what the hell she was feeling.