TWELVE 
TWELVE They arrived on the outskirts of Caracas at full dark. With his thanks, Zak paid the man most of Acadia’s poker winnings, and the small boat disappeared into the gloom of the shadowy river.
“This isn’t exactly civilization,” Acadia pointed out. It was a rural area with a few buildings and several shops lit against the night. Dozens of people milled about the streets. All of them stared. She moved closer to Zak’s side.
“Close enough.” He dragged her into a nearby tobacconist and asked to use their phone. After a rapid-fire exchange, the skeletal man behind the counter handed him a rotary phone. Zak paid him with the rest of their money.
The tiny shop smelled strongly of tobacco and was filled with smoke from the three old men standing nearby, puffing at foul-smelling cigarettes as they watched her. Acadia leaned against the glass display counter and only half listened to Zak’s conversation.
With his thanks, Zak slid the heavy black phone back across the counter, then took her hand, leading her outside. “The concierge at the Gran Meliá Hotel knows Gideon and me; we’ve stayed there many times. She’s sending a car.”
Acadia didn’t miss the “she” and suddenly wondered if it wasn’t just Zak’s reputation alone that made everything within reach of a phone.
“How’s Gideon?” The first question he’d asked the woman at the hotel.
Zak’s jaw clenched, and she knew the answer before he said grimly, “Hasn’t checked in yet.”
Twenty minutes later, the luxury sedan that had been sent to pick them up was met at the five-star Gran Meliá Hotel by a stunningly beautiful young woman whom Zak quickly introduced as Carina García-Ramírez. “Has my brother—?”
“Not yet, señor. I’m sorry.” Carina whisked them to the presidential suite. “I have tried to anticipate your needs, Señora Stark,” the concierge told her, ushering them into a luxurious suite decorated in golds and cream. Acadia didn’t want to walk on the pristine, plush cream-colored carpet with her jungle-dirty boots, so she paused just inside the doorway to unlace them and place them side by dirty side near the door. Didn’t seem to bother Zak any as he strolled in like he owned the place. For all she knew, he did.
It wasn’t until she’d padded into the suite after the other two that she realized the woman had just called her “Mrs. Stark.” She got a fluttery feeling in her tummy, which was silly. It was just a form of address. An accident. Which Zak hadn’t corrected.
Zak went immediately to the phone. He was calling his partner, she knew. Checking to see if Gideon had called, updating him on the situation.
Carina indicated the laden coffee table between two gold brocade sofas. “I took the liberty of ordering a light meal, Señor Stark, but should you require something more substantial, please let me know.” She smiled. “Your toiletries are in the bathroom, señora, and I have chosen some garments I thought you might require overnight. If you would like to give me an additional list of your requirements, I will make sure everything is brought to your suite by morning.”
“Thank you. That’s—” Pretty freaking amazing. “Great.” The opulence—hell, the cleanliness—after where they’d been was stunning, disorienting, and surreal, to say the least. Acadia walked to the windows while Zak talked quietly on the phone.
The wall of ceiling-to-floor windows framed a spectacular view of the lights and high-rises of downtown Caracas and the dusty outline of the mountains in the distance. She watched the two talk, reflected in the windows. The concierge leaned in just a little. She liked Zak. Liked him a lot. She touched his arm. He shook his head.
Acadia dragged her gaze away. Jealousy was an emotion she’d never felt in her life. The fact that she felt it now was … stupid.
She glanced around. To the left, separated from the rest of the room by a waist-high sideboard, was a highly polished dark wood dining table that seated eight. To the right, a living room area. The place was as big as a luxury apartment, a huge contrast to the squalid cell they’d shared just a few days ago. For that matter, it wasn’t anything like anywhere she’d ever stayed; it was something out of a movie, not her version of real life.
The coffee table had been laid out with half a dozen covered serving dishes, several large pots of coffee, and a platter of artistically cut fresh fruit.
Zak turned to her with a tired smile when he heard her soft footfalls. “Yeah. Wherever he lands first,” he said into the phone. He held out his right hand, and Acadia slipped her fingers into his. Her heart swelled with cautious emotion, but she ruthlessly tamped it down.
Zak put the phone down. “Piñero made her ransom demand a week ago. Buck’s been frantic. He hasn’t heard anything since.” He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “No word from Gideon.”
“Because he’s on his way.”
“From your lips …” His eyes refocused as he looked at her. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Hungry?”
Acadia was starting to feel a little fuzzy around the edges. Exhaustion crept up on her in increments. The cessation of danger and drama and not knowing what scary-as-hell thing was going to happen next, the horrifying realization that Zak had died and then the total relief when he’d come back, had all combined to zap what energy she had left.
“I’d love a shower first. Then food.”
“Shower’s through there.” Zak indicated a wide doorway into another room. “All the lotions and potions you need. If not, dial eight. Carina will take care of it.”
“Right, okay.” She didn’t want to let go of his hand. She suddenly felt like a kindergartner on the first day of school. Right then, Zak was everything safe and secure.
And that was a problem.
She untangled her fingers. “Thanks.” She turned to go through the bedroom, but Zak snagged her elbow as she passed. She stumbled, and he wrapped his free arm around her waist. Hazel eyes scanned her face. God. She must look a mess. Her hair was all over the place; her face was probably filthy.
He used a gentle finger to push a strand of hair off her cheek and said very softly, “Thank you for saving my life.”
Her breast brushed his fingers, imprisoned in the cheap black sling across his chest. “You’re welcome.”
“You don’t have to be on guard anymore, okay?” Zak told her gently, as if he could read her mind. “I’ll take care of you for a change.”
“Great.”
He tilted her chin up on his finger. “Acadia Gray, warrior woman? At a loss for words?”
She lifted her eyes slowly to meet his gaze. “Funny, huh?” Her chest felt shuddery and tight. It wasn’t just the shocking realization of his wealth. Or that she stood on a carpet three inches thick, surrounded by the fragrant aroma of freshly brewed Colombian coffee and the lush, civilized smell of hothouse flowers scattered about the room in cut crystal vases. Well, yes, it was all that. But more, it was the stunning realization that this Zakary Stark was as far away from Acadia Gray’s lifestyle as Alpha Centauri from the sun.
“You’re safe here. You can let down your guard,” he repeated.
Wrong. Her guard was up and unbreachable. Self-imposed, but way up there. She had no place in his world, and he’d be bored out of his mind in hers. “Wow,” Acadia said brightly, looking around at the expansive and exquisitely decorated suite. The original artwork, the gold brocade sofas, and the tasteful antique furnishings were all top of the line. “We’ve gone from the ridiculous to the sublime.”
“You’ll want that shower,” he murmured, a smile in his voice, his gaze hot as he looked at her mouth.
She gave him a narrow-eyed look and saw him through a sparkling shimmer. “Now, that’s just plain rude, Zakary Stark; you aren’t any cleaner than I—”
She hadn’t realized just how close he was until he hooked his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her around and against his bound arm.
A fluttery leap of anticipation made her tilt her face up to his. “Be careful of your sh—”
His hungry mouth silenced her. He didn’t bother to warm up, or ask permission. His mouth was hot and demanding and impatient. The kiss was like dying of thirst all day and then sinking into a lake of cool, crisp water and drinking her fill. The flutter became a tidal wave of need. Of greed.
To resist would be futile, and damn stupid. Who would she be fooling? Mature, well-reasoned intentions be damned. She wanted him in any way she could get him. Acadia wrapped her arms around Zak’s neck, fisting her hands in his hair as he kissed her with single-minded intensity that bordered on a territorial imperative. Her tongue met his, voracious and just as needy as his own.
His hand went down her back, and he started tugging her shirt free of her pants as she matched him in intensity, tilting her head and going up on her toes to better reach his mouth. She wanted him so badly that it never occurred to her to say no. Or wait. Or—Her mind went blank.
The next thing she knew, the small of her back hit a solid surface. The supporting arm around her left for a second as he swept a huge arrangement of fresh flowers, and several useless gold boxes, off the sideboard to crash to the floor. She felt a splash of cold water on her socked foot as the vase and flowers scattered on the plush carpet. Then she was flat on her back, legs dangling on either side of the mahogany cabinet, Zak wedged between her thighs.
His elbow digging into her chest.
Acadia started to giggle. The whole situation was crazy.
He dropped his forehead onto hers. “I’ve never had a woman crack up when I’m putting my best effort into seducing her.” He sounded amused.
Since his free hand was trying to undo the zipper on her vest, he wasn’t supporting himself over her, so he was extremely heavy. She liked the jut of his erection pressed intimately against her, and the weight of his hips pinning her in place. She started yanking his T-shirt from the back of his pants.
“We could take a lovely hot shower,” she suggested, kissing his throat and jaw as she glided her fingers up his bare back. His skin was hot, smooth, and very touchable. “With soap. Then we could put on whatever your friend left us to put on—”
“Nothing.”
“Okay. We’ll sit and eat dinner naked. We’ll have a glass of wine, and then we’ll come back in here and—”
“Excellent idea, with one modification.”
“What’s that?”
“We finish what we started here first. Then we’ll follow through with your most excellent plan.”
All his hard places were aligned with all of her soft, moist places. A win-win as far as Acadia was concerned. Heat suffused her entire body, and moisture pooled between her thighs.
He whipped the sling off over his head, tossed it across the room, and concentrated on attacking her zippers. He almost didn’t wince at the obvious pain in his shoulder. Big brave macho man that he was. “Zak! You’ll pull out your stit—”
He crushed her mouth under his in a kiss so hot, so explosive, she forgot what she’d been trying to say. She’d have words with him later when she called the doctor in to sew him back up. Silly, silly man …
With three hands frantically trying to undo zippers and get her T-shirt off, Zak gave up and just took one side of her vest in his teeth, the other with his hand, and ripped. She gasped. “I’ll buy you a dozen,” he growled. “Get it off, it’s in my way.”
She didn’t get it off. She got the zipper down and her T-shirt bunched up. And while she was doing that, Zak was running his mouth from her throat to her navel. “That’s very ahh … distrac—”
He undid the top button of her pants with his teeth, which was a nifty trick, then yanked down the zipper with his fingers, spreading either side of the khaki pants with one large hand, fingers stretched wide. “Commando again. This saves time.” He nuzzled his nose into the juncture of her thighs. “God, I love the way you smell. Earthy. Sexy. Hot for me.”
Acadia cupped her breasts, since he was busy and someone had to do it. Her nipples were tight little buds, hard and begging for attention, and so sensitive her lightest touch was enough to send her skyrocketing into a massive climax.
All the lights in the room were on. The drapes, should anyone out there in one of the tall downtown Caracas buildings close by care to look, were wide open, and she was flat on her back straddling a piece of fine furniture. All firsts.
In no way hampered by having use of only one fully functioning arm, Zak dragged her pants down her legs and instructed, “Lift,” while his mouth was pressed against her.
She arched her back and lifted, pressing herself firmly against his open mouth. He hummed his pleasure, which vibrated straight through her. The smooth wood beneath her bare skin was warming up, but it was still hard as she settled her behind down again.
“Maybe we could go into the bedr—Ahhh!” She practically levitated off the hard surface as he opened her with his tongue and unerringly found the swollen bud nestled in her folds.
Her hands tightened on her breasts as he swirled his tongue across the knot of nerves and gently, deliberately, closed his teeth around her.
The climax rolled through her in wave after wave after wave of glorious, Technicolor sensation, so that she couldn’t tell one from the next. The fireworks explosion at the end left her deaf, dumb, and blind as her sensory-overloaded body splintered into a thousand pieces.
“Good?” Zak asked, now standing between her limp, spread legs.
Her lashes fluttered up. “W-what?”
He slipped his forearm under her knees and slid her down to the very edge of the sideboard. “Just checking to be sure that was good for you.”
Acadia lifted a weak hand. “You need to ask?”
Zak chuckled as he wedged his narrow hips between her spread knees. “Ready for more?”
“N—Are you insane? I can’t breathe, let alone—Oh. My. God. Z-Zakary!” His penis was hard as a rock, thick and sleek, as he flexed his hips, plunging so far inside her in one powerful thrust that she shifted up the sideboard when she came again. He pressed a splayed hand on her quivering belly and kept pumping as she struggled to gather her scattered wits. Impossible.
The next climax rolled right behind the first until she couldn’t tell if she was coming over and over or if it was one giant climax that was going to kill her with pleasure. But what a way to go.
She came again, hard, and the lights did pinwheels around her as she felt the pounding of her heartbeat in every pulse point.
With a guttural cry, Zak collapsed on top of her, stealing the last sip of air from her already collapsed lungs. She didn’t have the strength to gasp for him to move.
Sweat glued their skin together, and he was still deep inside her. Acadia had never been more satiated. If she’d had an ounce of energy left she would’ve pulled up her pants and run far and fast, before he ripped out her heart and threw it over the edge of some distant killer mountain.
Right before he intended to snowboard the damn thing.
“Shower?” His voice was muffled against the hot, sweaty curve of her throat as he kissed her.
“Minute. Can’t walk.” Can’t breathe. Can’t talk. Can’t think straight.
Acadia choked out a laugh. “Oh!”
Zak lifted her with his good arm and tossed her over his bandaged shoulder in a very efficient fireman’s lift, her bare ass right next to his lips. “Time for that shower.”
Since she was suddenly dangling down his back, she tasted his damp skin as she tried to push his pants all the way off his hips. It took a while before they made it to that shower.