Chapter Three

A black Porsche Cayman S was waiting for them in the parking lot when he and Steph left the airport. A sporty little car, not much different from the 911 he drove in Trenton. The Cayman was a little more stylized by design. Molded headlights and a contoured body. More likely to draw attention. But given the way Steph was looking at it, that was a good thing.

"They didn't have a 911 Turbo?" she asked with an innocent smile.

Ranger glanced at her while he pulled the driver's side door open. "Are you sassing me?"

"Who, me?"

He grinned. There were a few cars in his personal fleet in Trenton. A Porsche Cayenne SUV, an F150 truck with a lot of customizations. The 911 Turbo. He used to drive a Mercedes, but there was something about the little Porsche sports cars that seemed to turn Stephanie on. And anything that turned Steph on was a good thing.

The lockbox was under the seat, just as he'd instructed. Put there by Rico when he'd delivered the car. Rico was a little out of step from the rest of his men. Hard to get him to wear the colors or take things seriously. But he always came through when it was needed.

Ranger opened the box and pulled out the 9mm Glock. He checked the clip and slid a round into the chamber, clicking on the safety before he tucked it into the small of his back. A cold pressure he'd gotten used to over the years. There was a small pistol in an ankle holster for him too, along with an army issue tactical knife. The knife was flush against his skin when he clipped it in front of his right hip. Invisible under the edge of his black short sleeved linen shirt. He looked down at the .45 Smith and Wesson revolver he'd requested for Stephanie, and then turned to her, his eyes scanning the flimsy shirt and white top. "I like this outfit, but it doesn't leave a lot of places to stash a weapon."

"When I got dressed this morning I didn't know I was going to have to accessorize."

"I always what you to accessorize," he said, holding out the gun for her.

She hesitated. Steph didn't like guns. As her mentor, Ranger had made sure she knew how to use one, and had enough practice and experience to be a decent shot. As her friend, he wished that she was comfortable enough to actually use it instead of hiding it away in the brown bear cookie jar she had in her kitchen. She didn't even keep bullets in it half the time. A fact that frustrated him to no end.

Steph grimaced and lifted the flap on her black messenger bag. The .45 vanished into the abyss. Ranger raised an eyebrow. "Not the most effective place to keep it. We might have to think about getting you a holster that straps to your inner thigh." There was a thought. He got a little hard when an image of reaching between her legs to pull out her gun flashed through his mind. "Could be fun," he said. He forced his eyes to hers again. "I also have cuffs and a stun gun for you, and some pepper spray. None of which are strictly legal for you to carry in this state, so it would be best if you didn't draw too much attention."

"Got it. Anything else?"

"Not now. I'm sure I'll have something else for you once we get to the hotel."

"If you were going for subtlety, you missed."

He turned his full attention to her. That hadn't been where he was going. He'd been thinking about the black velvet ring box in his pocket. But now that she mentioned it, there was something much more intimate that he wanted to give her. The fact that she was thinking about it too sharpened the impulse. He stalked toward her and she backed into the car. He could feel the lean line of her body when he pressed into her, her breasts against his chest. His hands found her waist, tracing gentle lines along her skin just under the edge of her tank top. It took a fair bit of control not to take her right there. His leg slipped between the part in her skirt to rub along her inner thigh, his mouth so near hers that there was only one breath between them. "You want me to be more subtle?"

She was watching his lips, struggling for composure in a way that made him want her even more. She liked to pretend that he didn't affect her. Steph had a lot of bravado, and she was good at using it most of the time. But he always saw through it. He fought a smile and leaned toward her, laying one quick kiss on her lips. Any more and he might have lost focus. "Get in the car."

It took her a second to move. As if he'd turned her knees to jelly. The smile won out.

He slid into the driver's seat and turned the engine over. The powerful hum moved through the car and Steph's breath shuddered like she might have an orgasm. He glanced at her. Damn. He might have to give Rico a bonus.

Ranger put the Cayman in gear and started for the resort. He had to fight the inclination to speed, and it wasn't just because the little sports car was fast. Stephanie was a fervent energy beside him. The heat from her body filling the intimate space just as thoroughly as the scent that was uniquely hers. And somewhere ahead of them was a big king sized bed in a quiet little cottage. His foot pressed into the gas.

Men in white pants and green and white shirts were moving around under the covered port when he swung the Cayman up to the hotel. One of them came up to his window. He gave the man some instruction and slipped him a fifty. The sudden eagerness was predictable.

He turned to Steph. She was watching the porter.

The velvet box was pressing against his thigh, a symbol inside it that usually carried a certain amount of weight. He could have just handed it to her. But he didn't want to. Instead, he pulled the box out of his pocket and opened it. Her eyes moved to him when he took her left hand from the console between them and slid the white gold and diamond wedding ring onto her finger.

He didn't wait for her reaction. Just pushed his door open and angled out of the Porsche. He shut his door. A warm breeze swept across the driveway. It was sobering, in its own way. Sometimes being near her put thoughts in his head. Thoughts he shouldn't have.

He watched the porter move Steph's suitcases and the one Noah had packed for him onto a rolling cart. The man nodded and dragged the cart up onto the curb toward the tall glass hotel doors.

Ranger took the black Tungsten band from the second box. He walked around to Stephanie's door and pulled it open. She was still staring with wide-eyed awe at the ring on her finger. She turned and gaped at him. "Are these real diamonds?"

Ranger tried not to smile. "Yes. So try not to lose it."

"This must have cost a fortune!"

"I know a guy," he said, tucking the other box back in his pocket. The ring was heavy when he slid it on his own finger.

He offered her a hand to lift her out of the car. Her fingers were pale against his bronze skin, her ring flaring in the sun. It was a stark contrast to his. Gleaming white over subtle black. And yet, there was something fitting about it. As if they really were designed as a set. He liked that in a way he couldn't quite explain.

Steph's eyes were fixed on the sparkling rock. It wasn't often Stephanie Plum was speechless. He lifted her hand to his mouth and laid a kiss to her skin just below the ring. He brushed his thumb across the stone to center it again. It fit her perfectly. "Pretty."

She nodded in a stunned sort of way.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and led her toward the glass front doors, and she followed his guidance without looking up once. If he'd known she could be this compliant, he might have given her something shiny a long time ago. He leaned over her and kissed her ear. "If you don't stop staring at that ring they're gonna to know you haven't been wearing it long."

"Maybe I haven't. We could be newlyweds. Or you could have just upgraded my ring because you got drunk with your friends and did something stupid."

"There's that sassing again. If you keep it up there might be repercussions."

"Like no dessert?"

"Like you're dessert."

The focus of silence moved from the ring to him, this time with a fair amount of heat that was only barely masked by her shy expression. A genuine smile spread across his face. She wanted him bad.

A squirrelly guy with short brown hair and a skeptical frown was standing behind the front desk. His pale brown eyes fixed on Stephanie. "You're back," he said, unable to hide his flat tone. Ranger didn't like it. It was just a hairsbreadth from disrespect.

And then the man's eyes moved to Ranger.

Not hard to tell what he was thinking. Ranger was all too aware of the first impression he gave. Just shy of six feet. Thick, muscular body with a soldier's carriage. The kind of physique that said I'll rip you in half if you look at me sideways. Even when he smiled, most people still took a step back. Watched him carefully. Like he was a savage beast that might turn on them at any second.

"We have reservations," he said to the concierge with his most charming smile. Not bothering to hide the feral nature behind his eyes. The concierge swallowed hard. "Carlos Manoso."

"Y—yes, of course," the man said, tapping away at his computer. He cut a glance at Steph. "And—"

"My wife, Stephanie."

Steph expelled a quick breath. He didn't look at her, as much as he wanted to. It might have been a laugh or a choke of surprise at the easy way he'd said it. She might have even found it a tad ironic. The concierge didn't seem to notice.

"Yes, of course. Mr. and Mrs. Manoso. I see you requested one of our private cottages." He tapped another few keys. "It doesn't look as though you've chosen to take advantage of any our Sanctuary for Marriage workshops. If you like, there are still several that have openings."

"No. That's not necessary," Ranger said. He'd rather be tortured by Columbian rebels again.

The man looked as though he was supposed to be more insistent, but was having trouble finding the words. Steph took pity on him. "My husband isn't really the feelings sharing type," she said. Ranger cut his eyes to her, hiding a smile. "But I'll look over the list. Maybe we could find something. Actually, I was hoping to get in the same ones with my friends Tootie and Simon. They were supposed to check in yesterday. I don't suppose you could sign us up for those, could you?"

The man couldn't entirely hide the grim set that took over his smile. "I'm sorry. As I told you yesterday, we have a very strict privacy policy. It's one of the reasons our clients choose us over other resorts. Comprehensive security. If your friend provided you with a list of activities she wanted you to join her in, I would be happy to do what I can to make room."

"Are you sure? I was hoping to surprise her."

"Unfortunately that's out of the question. But if you'd like to design an itinerary of your own, I'm sure you'll be happy with the services we provide."

"Great. Thanks."

He nodded and gestured toward the main lobby. "If you'll follow me."

He led the way through the lobby and into the resort, Steph frowning at his back. She leaned into Ranger. Her shoulder pressed into his chest. "I was really hoping it was going to be that easy."

Ranger only smiled. He was kind of counting on it not being that easy. If they caught The Rug too quickly, Ranger would have to transport him back to Jersey. Leaving Stephanie alone again. That didn't sound nearly as appealing as staying.

The concierge gave them a tour of the pools and the central bar that served them, along with the wide stretch of beach already populated by resort guests. Steph was listening carefully. Her eyes scanning the beach with the sharp intensity of a true hunter.

When Ranger first met Stephanie Plum, she'd been an unemployed lingerie buyer who'd decided to take on a brave new career in bounty hunting. Not exactly the lateral move most people make. It had been one of desperation on her part. A stopgap to keep from being homeless as well as carless. She'd lacked the tough as nails demeanor worn by most men in the profession. He'd only met with her as a favor to Connie, the bail bonds office manager. Turned out she was gutsy, though, considering the cold façade and street swagger he'd shown her. And she'd had more determination than he'd given her credit for. Persistent. Not to mention hot.

The moment she tried to put him in his place he decided to take her under his wing.

And it wasn't long after that that he'd wanted to take her under other things too.

Steph felt his eyes. "What?"

"You're cute when you're focused."

She rolled her eyes in a way that said 'just what every girl wants to hear'. "I don't see you being focused."

"I'll be focused later."

She rolled her eyes again, this time a tiny smile pulling at her lips. He had a fair idea what she was thinking. She knew firsthand how determinedly he could focus. It usually resulted in those breathless little screams.

They walked side by side along the beach several feet behind the concierge. He was droning on about the resorts finer points. Nothing Ranger hadn't learned already. Then he heard Stephanie laugh. It was a quick exhale, hardly any sound at all. He cut his eyes to her with a curious expression. She glanced at the man ahead of them to make sure he wouldn't hear and then leaned into him.

"You look like a contract killer failing to blend in."

This time he smiled.

Only Steph.

It was true that he was wearing all black, just like any other day. A choice that was both easy and good for his image. And he did have enough firepower hidden on his body that he'd be able to take down any target with minimal effort. But the loafers, slacks, and short sleeved linen shirt with subtly embroidered vertical lines weren't exactly the sort of thing real contract killers wore. Something he knew from personal experience.

"Pretty sure you're the only one thinking that, Babe."

"I can't be the only one."

He shook his head, just a little. Smartass.

The cottages were tucked into a secluded cluster of trees and flowering plants just off the beach. They'd been designed with privacy in mind. Spaced further apart than some of the other cottages, with sheltered yards in the front and back to make it feel as though they were separate from each other as well as the rest of the resort.

Steph stared in wonder around the living room, taking it all in.

Her vibrant eyes found the open door to the bedroom for a second before she wandered toward the master bath. It had been a brief glimpse. Just enough the register the luggage and the bed. But it was enough to remind him that in just a few seconds they would be completely alone. Ranger slipped another fifty to the concierge to encourage him to leave and locked the door behind him.

"So, where do you want to start looking for Simon Ruguzzi?" she asked, checking out the master bath. Unaware of the carnivorous way he was watching her. "We obviously can't ask the front desk what room they're in."

Ranger let the slow pace of his steps drag out the anticipation. He lingered in the doorway. "Not sure it would help even if we tried. The Rug had a dozen aliases before he spent three years in the wind. No telling what name he'd be using now."

She opened the French door that led out toward the private beach. The pacific rolled in soft waves onto the sand beyond her silhouette. He let his gaze slide down her back, the outline of her slender body visible through the flimsy clothes. "We might have to hang out in the public areas, then, and hope we come across them," she said, closing the door again. She went through the next one, between the tub and the shower. It led to the bedroom.

Just where he wanted her.

He stepped back and took the other door, the one that led in from the living room. Steph was standing by the suitcases at the foot of the king sized bed. Her eyes skated over it in a shy way and turned deliberately to the sliding glass doors that opened into the yard. She was nervous. Cute.

They didn't have a long sexual history. Not in the traditional sense, anyway. They'd spent one night together a couple years back, the culmination of months of tension and innuendo. He had expected resolution after. An ease to his need after he'd found his release. It hadn't worked out that way. In fact if anything, the need had gotten stronger once it had moved from desire to reality.

They'd been doing a dance of sorts ever since. Trying to find a balance between his raw physical urges and her delicate sensibilities. And then recently, the stars had aligned a second time and she'd let the barrier fall. He thought the window had closed again when he realized she'd invited Morelli to the islands. She and Morelli weren't exclusive at the moment, but Steph was never the kind of girl to sleep with more than one man at a time.

Now that he was here, he didn't have any intention of letting the opportunity slip by.

He walked toward her slowly, his shoes making no sound on the hardwood floor. Her breathing quickened anyway. As if she was so aware of his body that she could sense him wherever he stood. "Actually," he said, pausing at the bedside table. She was watching him from the corner of her eye. "I was thinking we should start somewhere else. Like the hot tub." He pulled the heavy ring off his finger and set it on the tabletop. "The Ruguzzis aren't going anywhere tonight."

She considered that. Clearly tempted. "I'd have to get my swimsuit out of my bag."

"Or not."

"Cute," she said. It took her a second to realize he wasn't joking. "It's outside. Anyone could see!"

"No one can see. It has complete and total privacy." Something he'd made sure of. No matter the price. He stalked toward her and felt a shiver run down the length of her body when he came flush against her back. There was no space left between them and it still wasn't enough. He lowered his mouth to her ear. "Assuming you're not too loud."

She was turning soft, melting into him. "We don't have time. We need to check out the restaurants before we go to dinner."

A grin lit his face. He brushed his fingers along her waist and let them trace over her ribs and up the sides of her breasts, grasping the collar of her flowing overshirt so that he could peel it away from her shoulders. He breathed her in, laying a kiss over her clavicle as he dropped the shirt to the floor. "Or we could stay in and order room service."

He knew it wasn't fair to use her temptations against her. But then it was never really in his nature to play fair. He'd learned a lot about Stephanie Plum over the last few years. Room service was one of her favorite things. Right up there with sex and birthday cake. He kissed the pulse point in her neck, lingering there as he untied the knot that was holding her skirt around her hips. One motion and it would float to the floor, leaving her bare.

"I'm not sure if that's a good idea," she breathed. Her head rolled back onto his shoulder of its own accord, opening her up even more. She let out a sigh.

He brushed his smile across the top of her shoulder and up her neck. Lingering at her ear. "We could see if they have birthday cake."

And then the rest of her walls came crumbling down.