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  Checking her face in the mirror over the sink in the bathroom, Vanessa winced. There was still a slight puffiness under her eyes. She tucked in several strands of hair with her fingers, securing them in a chignon pinned loosely at the nape of her neck. With her face washed clean of makeup and dressed in a T-shirt, well-worn comfortable jeans, and a pair of running shoes, she was the epitome of a laid-back tourist.

  She returned to the bedroom and gathered up her backpack and key. Her gaze swept around the room, lingering on the vase with the flowers before she opened and closed the door behind her. She took the elevator to the lobby, realizing as she left her key at the desk that her headache had vanished. The rain had also stopped, and the sun tried vainly to pierce the veil of smog that lingered over Mexico City.

  In front of the hotel, Vanessa walked over to the waiting bus which would take her to Puebla for a day of shopping and sight-seeing. Smiling at the driver seated behind the wheel, she knew she was going to have an enjoyable day.

  Joshua opened the door to his hotel suite, watching a youthful-looking Cordero Birmingham give him a look which spoke volumes. The natural color had drained from his face, leaving it a sickly yellow shade.

  “Where—where’s Nathanial Webb?” Cordero sputtered, recovering quickly and finding his voice. He had been told he would meet the Director of the Drug Enforcement Administration, not U.S. Army Colonel Joshua Kirkland.

  Joshua’s impassive expression did not alter as he noted subtle changes in the man he had been ordered to contact. Cordero Birmingham was thirty-five but appeared ten years younger. He was an even six-foot, slim, and claimed smooth golden skin over high cheekbones. His hair was a thick, wavy, burnished copper, and his eyes a startling, topaz blue under dark eyebrows. There was a slight hardness around his mouth until he smiled. He claimed a perfect set of shimmering, white teeth.

  “Nate’s been relieved of duty for this maneuver.”

  Cordero followed Joshua into the living room and sank down into a plush armchair. “Why? Who’s replacing him?”

  Clasping his hands behind his back, Joshua stared, coldly drilling Cordero to his seat. “I’m replacing Nate, because they suspect a mole in his operation.”

  Inhaling audibly, Cordero let out his breath slowly. “Who?”

  “That’s what Matthew Sterling is going to uncover. Tell him to take out the mole and leave Delgado in place.”

  The United States government had many private citizens on their payroll for undocumented covert activities, and Joshua knew that Matthew Sterling was one of the best. They had collaborated on a maneuver in the Salvadoran jungle, and had barely gotten out of the Central American country alive. A guerilla’s bullet had found its target inches above Matt’s heart, and his movements had given away their position. Joshua had been responsible for injecting Matt with a narcotic powerful enough to render a man immediately unconscious and kill with a single dose—any man except Matthew Sterling. Matt survived, and their mission was successful.

  Cordero shook his head, frowning. “I don’t know if Mateo’s going to like this change of plan. He’s to be married at eleven o’clock today.”

  Joshua stared at the younger man without blinking. “I’ll meet you in the airport tomorrow night at twenty-three hundred hours,” he ordered in an emotionless tone.

  “Where?”

  “AeroMexico’s departure terminal. I’ll let you know who to contact for the pickup of marijuana, and I’ll also arrange for the transfer.” U.S. DEA agents had infiltrated several drug cartels, identifying them for his Operation MESA. The telephone rang, but he made no move to answer it. He counted off six rings before it stopped.

  Joshua turned his back, and it was a full minute before Cordero realized he had been dismissed. Rising to his feet, he bowed slightly at the man who had personally come to Mexico to deliver his orders. A sardonic smile revealed his sparkling teeth as he made his way across the luxurious hotel suite. He opened and closed the door quietly. It was only then that Joshua turned around, to make certain he was alone.

  He picked up the telephone and retrieved the call from the hotel’s operator, his eyebrows arching slightly. Vanessa had called. Now she knew where to find him when she needed him.

  Vanessa returned to Mexico City and La Mérida exhausted and satisfied. She’d found the ideal planters for her enclosed patio. The large terra cotta vessels were hand-painted reproductions with ancient Mexican hieroglyphics. The urns were perfect for the saguaro cacti she intended to order from a popular Santa Fe nursery. The Puebla shopkeeper assured her that the specially ordered ceramic planters would be shipped to her home within a month of her return to the States. She’d left the shop, knowing the one month he’d promised would more than likely be two.

  Retrieving her key from the desk, she made her way to the elevators. Riding the bus for six hours and walking endlessly around a city which boasted architecture from the sixteenth through the late seventeenth centuries to modern office buildings and a few hotels had taken their toll. All she wanted was a bath and her bed.

  As she inserted the key in the lock to her room she heard the shrill ringing of her telephone. Pushing open the door, Vanessa stood still, her heart pumping wildly in her chest. She took two steps into the entry and felt personally violated. Someone had ransacked the place! Fear and rage warred inside her as the phone continued its incessant ringing.

  She rushed into the bedroom, snatching up the receiver and holding it with both hands to keep it from slipping from her trembling fingers. “Hello.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper.

  “Vanessa?”

  She recognized the other voice immediately. “Josh-u-a.”

  “Vanessa? Are you all right?”

  Sinking down to the floor beside the bed, she closed her eyes and bit down hard on her lower lip until it throbbed like a pulse. “Someone’s been in my room,” she gasped, struggling for a normal breath.

  “Who, Vanessa?”

  She registered the impatience in Joshua’s voice, and it angered her. Why was he asking a question she couldn’t answer?

  “I don’t know,” she snapped. “I just walked in and found everything turned upside down. Whoever it was stripped my bed, and they’ve gone through the closet and dresser drawers.”

  “Don’t touch anything,” he ordered. “When you hang up, call hotel security. I’ll be there as soon as I can get a car.”

  “Joshua—” She heard the steady drone of the dial tone. He had hung up. Pressing her head back against the edge of the mattress, she depressed the hook, then dialed the hotel’s operator. The operator said she would have security personnel at her room within minutes.

  Why would anyone want to steal from her? She hadn’t brought any jewelry with her. Most of her money was locked in the hotel’s safe, and when she ventured out she carried only a small amount of Mexican currency and her credit cards.

  The whys attacked her until she did what she rarely did—cried.

  Two men carrying walkie talkies swept into the room, not bothering to close the door and barking questions at Vanessa.

  She shook her head like someone drugged. “I don’t know,” she said over and over until she felt like screaming.

  “Did you notice anyone following you, Señorita Blanchard?” asked the shorter of the two men.

  “Why would anyone want to follow me? For what?”

  His dark gaze lingered on her face before slipping down to her chest and the jeans hugging her slim hips. “That’s what I’m trying to uncover.”

  “Is anything missing?” asked a familiar male voice in Spanish.

  Vanessa spun around as she rose from the chair where she’d sat during the questioning. “Joshua,” she sighed breathlessly. It had taken him less than fifteen minutes to come to her.

  He crossed the room quickly, stepping over bedclothes and articles of clothing that Vanessa had stored in the chest of drawers and closet. She did not disappoint him as she flung herself into his outstretched arms.

  A shudder
went through his body as he cradled her gently, offering comfort and safety. The need to protect her surfaced, along with a craving to possess Vanessa Blanchard totally. He wanted her body, and more.

  One hand made circular motions on her back, while the other cradled the back of her head to his shoulder. “I’ll take care of everything, Angel.”

  She nodded, fighting back tears. She didn’t want to show weakness, especially in front of Joshua. She’d managed to stem her flow of tears before the other two men arrived, but now they threatened to flow again.

  Reluctantly he released her, and she covered her mouth with one hand and sank back down to the chair. His penetrating green eyes burned into hers, and there was something in his gaze that said he would take care of everything—and her.

  Joshua took charge, demanding that the two men tell him what they had asked Vanessa. They reported that she hadn’t kept any jewelry or money in the room, therefore there was none to report stolen. Neither of them could understand why Señorita Blanchard’s room was ransacked.

  Joshua did not tell them, of course, that he’d ordered The Shadow to break into her room and make it look like a burglary because he knew instinctively that Vanessa would be frightened enough to come to him—come to him because he’d offer to protect her.

  “Before you make the determination that only her room was ransacked, I suggest you check with the other guests in your hotel,” he countered.

  The shorter man took charge. “We will check, Señor—”

  “Kirkland,” he supplied. “I will help Señorita Blanchard pack her—”

  “There’s no need for her to leave La Mérida, Señor Kirkland.”

  Joshua shot him a lethal glare. “There is every need if her safety is at risk. She could’ve been here when whoever it was broke in. And if it were to happen again, can you guarantee that she would not be harmed?”

  “No, Señor Kirkland,” said the other man. “Do you want us to notify the police?”

  “I’ll let you know after we’ve gone through everything.”

  “Gracias,” the men said in unison. They didn’t want a police presence. The other guests would become aware of what had happened in 314. La Mérida had spent many years acquiring the reputation befitting a four star hotel. An incident like this one would tarnish their reputation and limit future business.

  “We will make certain the management compensates Señorita Blanchard for her trouble,” the taller of the two stated with a wide grin. “And we’ll send someone from housekeeping to help her pack.”

  Pleased that they had managed to defuse what could’ve become a volatile situation, they left the room.

  Joshua did not acknowledge their offer as he turned back to Vanessa. She sat on the chair, legs drawn up under her body, head thrown back, and her eyes closed. She looked nothing like a traitor, but did anyone who sold classified secrets ever look like one?

  Walking over to her, he hunkered down next to the chair. “Vanessa,” he crooned softly, rubbing the back of his hand over her cheekbone. Her large eyes opened and she blinked, then focused her gaze. “You’re going to check out of this place and stay with me.”

  “I can’t.” She stared over his head at a pattern on the wallpaper behind the bed.

  “You can, and you will.” His face was a mask of stone. “I have enough room in my hotel suite for three people without anyone bumping into another.”

  Vanessa shook her head, refusing to relent. “I want to stay here. I’ll move into another room on a different floor.”

  “What if it happens again?”

  She sat up, unfolding her legs. “Why would it?”

  “I’m not saying it would. But I would feel better if I didn’t have to race across town to check on you.” He pointed to the overturned vase and the flowers resting in a widening pool of water on the carpet. “And it pains me that you treat my carefully chosen gift of appreciation in such a deplorable manner.”

  She smiled for the first time since walking into the room that evening. A feeling of relief surged through her, and she rested her head against his shoulder. How she wanted to take him up on his offer! She needed him to make her feel safe.

  “I’m usually not so ungrateful. I did try to call you.”

  Shifting his head slightly, he pressed his lips to her hair. “To tell me what?”

  “To thank you for the flowers.”

  “Thank me by staying with me.”

  Vanessa sat up straighter. “I want to,” she admitted, “but I can’t. I won’t allow something like this to turn me into a coward. And if I hide now, then I’ll never stop hiding. Thank you for the offer, but I’ll just move into another room,” she insisted stubbornly.

  Joshua stood up, pulling her to her feet. He cupped her face between his palms, making her his willing prisoner. “What happened here has nothing to do with cowardice. It’s about not challenging a lunatic who gets his or her kicks by breaking into hotel rooms and destroying everything in sight.”

  A distinctive tapping on the door, followed by a woman’s voice, preempted whatever Vanessa was going to say.

  “Come in,” Joshua called out.

  A petite woman wearing the uniform of the hotel’s housekeeping staff stepped into the room. Joshua told her in rapid Spanish what he wanted her to do while Vanessa excused herself and walked into the bathroom.

  She could not stop the gasp of horror escaping her gaping mouth when she saw remnants of several items of intimate apparel hanging on the shower rod. Her panties and bras were splattered with what seemed like red paint, mimicking blood. The ransacking of her room had not been just a moronic prank. It was now apparent that whoever had broken into her room was deranged and probably a sexual deviant, as well. Backing slowly out of the bathroom, she retreated to where Joshua stood supervising the cleanup. She tugged at the sleeve of his black linen jacket.

  He looked down at her, recognizing the fear—stark, wild and vivid—in her tortured gaze. Her fingers tightened on his arm.

  “What is it, Vanessa?”

  Fearful images crowded her mind and she breathed in quick, shallow gasps to slow down her runaway heart. “I want out of here. I can’t stay in this place.”

  Joshua did not understand what could’ve made her change her mind so quickly. His gaze narrowed. “What’s the matter?”

  Closing her eyes, she tried forcing air into her constricted lungs. “Look in the bathroom.”

  He made his way to the bathroom and his reaction to seeing Vanessa’s underwear spattered with a red substance was a burning rage that swept over him like a volcanic eruption.

  The man who had been dubbed The Shadow—because of his ability to follow a person without being detected—had traumatized Vanessa instead of just frightening her.

  Joshua’s eyes paled to a translucent green while his jaw tightened. The Shadow would soon learn that following a directive meant just that. He would not tolerate superfluous theatrics.

  Returning to the bedroom, he stared at Vanessa as she stood at the window, looking out with unseeing eyes. His gaze moved leisurely over her slim hips in revealing jeans. Seeing her rounded bottom attractively outlined in the denim failed to arouse him. What he did feel was a munificent need to take care of her.

  The woman was a traitor, and he still was drawn to her!

  Closing the distance between them, he pulled her gently against his chest in a close, comforting embrace. Lowering his head, he pressed his lips to her sweet, fragrant hair.

  “Don’t be afraid, Angel,” he whispered quietly. “I’m going to take care of you. You’ll be safe with me.”

  Vanessa sagged weakly against his stronger body and nodded. She couldn’t fathom the emotion, but suddenly without warning she felt safe with Joshua, safer than she had ever been in her life.

  Chapter 6

  Vanessa sat on a large plush chair in a living room at the Clarion Reforma Suites. Joshua hadn’t lied to her. His accommodations were spacious enough for two or three people. The suite cont
ained two bedrooms, the larger with an adjoining bath and dressing room, a living room, dining area and an efficiency kitchen.

  She returned Joshua’s unwavering gaze as he stood in front of the expansive windows with his hands clasped behind his back, while the hotel maid put away her clothes in the smaller bedroom.

  He watched her the way a predator studies its prey before attacking, and she wondered what was going on behind his solemn expression. Had he regretted suggesting that she share his suite? Did he think she’d met someone, spurned him, and the person now stalked her?

  She suddenly realized that Joshua was dressed entirely in black: his jacket, slacks, shirt, and shoes. For the first time since she’d met him he didn’t appear to be what he said he was—an international businessman. There was something about his eyes, his stance, penetrating gaze, and uncanny stillness that projected an aura of danger. The man standing before her was dark except for his hair and eyes; lean and dangerous.

  “I’m leaving here tomorrow morning,” she stated quietly, deciding that she had to get away from him as smoothly and quickly as she possibly could.

  A pale eyebrow shifted at her disclosure. “You’re going back to the States?”

  Vanessa rose gracefully from her chair, transfixing Joshua with the slender, supple lines of her feminine form. “No. I’m going to check into another hotel.”

  He moved toward her, seemingly floating and narrowing the space between them in seconds. She moved back and sat down on the chair she’d just vacated, and the backs of her knees hit the seat.

  “I can’t permit that,” he said in a low, ominous tone.

  She felt a wave of momentary panic. His voice was absolutely emotionless, chilling her. She tilted her chin, and her eyes widened when he stood over her.

  “You can’t stop me.”

  He nodded. “You’re right about that. But I also can’t protect you if you leave.”