“Damn it, Isabeau,” Elijah snapped. “When you get out, all of us will have to hug you, rub our scent over you, otherwise the rogues will be able to pick up Conner’s scent exclusively.”
Rio glared at Conner. “That’s a rookie mistake.”
“Great,” she muttered rebelliously, “they’re going to think I’m the loose, easy chick.”
“I’m beginning to think Conner’s right and you should stay in the car,” Rio said.
Isabeau rolled her eyes and reached across Conner to shove open the door. She wasn’t staying in the car.
Conner simply shrugged before flashing his teeth at Isabeau in a conspiratorial smirk. He exited the SUV and took his first good look at the estate where Philip Sobre, the chief of tourism resided. The man had done well for himself. The six-story sprawling mansion was on a slope overlooking the forest. The panoramic views swept around the verandah and from every deck and window in the large house. Trees, centuries old, rose up in grandeur, to surround the house and lead the way to the small lake shimmering just a distance away.
The temperature had begun to fall and Conner could hear the familiar sounds of the rain forest as evening settled in. The frog chorus had already begun in the many small ponds and puddles of water as the amphibians defended their territories and did their melodious best to attract mates. Higher up, hidden on the massive trunks and branches, the tree frogs chimed in with their strange knocking sound, a song that was more obnoxious, but strangely comforting.
He stepped out of the way and allowed Elijah to help Isabeau from the vehicle. All the while he kept his gaze moving around them, surveying the estate, he was acutely aware of her. The way she moved. The sound of her voice. The way the shadows caressed her face lovingly.
A myriad of insects had joined the frogs, with the cicadas taking a prominent roll in the chorus. Farther out, in the inky darkness, his cat could sense and identify other smaller rodents foraging on the forest floor. He had the sudden urge to throw Isabeau over his shoulder and disappear into that darkness where no one could ever find them. He turned his head to look at her, in spite of his commands to her that they should appear indifferent. He couldn’t help it.
And that, he supposed, was the main problem he had with Isabeau. From the beginning, he lacked control and discipline when he was around her. He’d taught her to please him. He was the dominant in the relationship, yet she held him in the palm of her hand. She was wrapped so tightly around his heart there was no escape. There was no way to blame it on his cat—or hers—this was all about the woman, the whole of her.
Their eyes met. God, she was beautiful, a bright spirit, shining from the inside out. He was going into a party filled with corrupt individuals who wanted every last dollar they could rob from the poorer people around them. She went into a rain forest and studied how plants could be used to heal people. The woman he was going to seduce was the worst of all, with no regard for human life. His woman was willing for her man to do whatever it took in order to save children not her own.
“I love you,” he said. Stark. Raw. In front of them all.
She flashed a small smile and there was pride in her eyes. “I love you too.”
He turned and fell into step with Marcos Santos, Felipe and Leonardo’s uncle. His heart ached and it was difficult to fall into his role as the personal protector. Rio touched his shoulder lightly and he flicked his glance to the team leader.
“We’ll take care of her,” Rio assured him.
Isabeau was smart and she’d learned fast. She had been in the rain forest on and off most of her life. And she read people very well. He had to believe in her abilities. He nodded his head at Rio, and continued to scan the area around them as they began to make their way up the winding path to the main house.
The rain forest was kept at bay by a host of workers continually at war with it. At every opportunity, the forest tried to reclaim lost land. The roots from the fig trees formed great cages all up and down the property and flowers curled up the trunks in a riot of color. Philodendron leaves as big as umbrellas shot up the trunks and every conceivable post, turning the grounds into a massive forest of greenery.
The plants sheltered the house from the surrounding forest more effectively than the high fence that had been added. Already the plants wound their way up the chain and in a few years, he could see the house would be hidden completely from outsiders. But for now, the view inside the banks of windows and along the balconies and verandahs was fairly clear for Jeremiah.
The security force Philip Sobre used was everywhere, walking patrols along the grounds, making a show of weapons, but he noticed no one was looking in the high canopy just outside the grounds. Jeremiah would have it easy at least until the rogue leopards came. The men here now, hired to protect those coming to the party, were not real professional soldiers or bodyguards. Conner suspected they were men from a local police force making some extra money.
As Marcos approached the front door, Felipe laid a hand on his shoulder and they stepped back to allow Conner to go in first without them. Conner set his face in hard, unreadable lines and approached the door, opening his jacket so there was no mistake he was armed. The doorman checked the list, nodded and allowed him in. He went through each room carefully and it was a damn big house. He took note of the security cameras, windows, exits and staircases. They had studied a layout of the house already, but the blueprints weren’t exact. He spoke low into his radio, giving the other members of his team the remodels that weren’t in the floor plans.
Several doors on the second floor opened into a courtyard where more exotic plants grew amidst a series of fountains leaping from a pool of koi. He sent the entire layout to his crew and Jeremiah, letting Elijah and Rio know the easiest rooms in which to protect their “clients,” before allowing Marcos to enter.
Philip Sobre, the chief of tourism, rushed forward to greet Marcos Santos. Of course he ignored both Conner and Felipe. As an important guest, Marcos was shown personally into the house.
“I’ve brought a personal friend along with me, Elijah Lospostos. I trust my secretary sent you a note, as I was already en route when I realized he was in your country. He is in the country to visit his cousin who resides here. She’s with us as well—Isabeau Chandler,” Marcos said. “If they’re not welcome, we can meet another time.” His tone was casual as only an extremely wealthy businessman used to getting his way could have been. “Elijah has his own security with him. One of his personal protectors is my own nephew. Elijah is like a son to me, as is my nephew.” He half turned as if he might leave.
Philip bowed several times. “Of course your friends are welcome.” And he was under strict orders to see to it that Elijah Lospostos felt very welcome. He waved Elijah’s personal protector through, glaring at his doormen when the man would have stopped and checked for other weapons than the one in plain sight.
Elijah barely nodded at the man, flashing his white teeth briefly, looking more dangerous than the wild animals surrounding the estate. He wrapped his arm around Isabeau and drew her inside. Isabeau was dressed for the occasion in a long, swinging skirt that brushed her ankles and a short top that accented the curves of her body. She had the radiance and allure of a female close to the Han Vol Dan. Her scent was feminine and enticing. She was a vision in blue, and Philip stumbled when he saw her. He took her hand, gazed into her eyes with far too much greed, bending over her hand as though he might kiss it.
While she smiled gently, Elijah firmly removed her hand before those cold lips could touch her skin. “This is my favorite cousin.” Again his white teeth flashed and this time they looked a bit sharper. “She is very dear to me.” It was a clear warning and any man within hearing distance couldn’t mistake the menace.
“Isabeau,” Philip whispered. He couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from her.
Elijah studied their host closely, inhaling his scent. They had done research on the man. He was greedy and excessive in his decadent lifestyle. There were reports of women carried from his home while he looked on, wrapped in a silken robe and sipping a glass of whiskey with a small smile. Everywhere they looked the signs of his opulent lifestyle were apparent.
Marcos took a drink from a tray, his faded, burnished eyes taking in the server. He shifted his gaze to Conner, who barely nodded. The woman was dressed in dark trousers and a white blouse. There was a faint bruise on the side of her face covered by thick makeup. Her hand trembled slightly as she offered the silver tray.
Rio indicated they move deeper into the house, into one of the rooms Conner had deemed the safest. There were several exits and a more open floor plan. Philip followed them, chattering about the new hotel being built and how much it was needed. The jobs, economy and all the new tourist opportunities it presented. Marcos murmured politely, listening attentively, and Conner retreated back into the shadows, knowing he would appear more mysterious and more dangerous when Imelda Cortez’s security people examined the tapes before allowing her inside.