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But then Ren had obviously slept next to her, so where was he? Had he gone out?

She frowned. If he was going after Trujo, he'd need her help. The
narcotrafficante
was slipperier than the eels found in the drainage canals alongside the roads in Puerto Iguazu. She knew where the bastard holed up in the Triple Frontier. She'd researched the notorious and powerful drug lord for the NSA. She'd show the guys her findings. They needed to see what they'd be up against. Three men versus a small army did not slant in favor of the good guys.

Now to see who was here, because neither her brother nor Ren—who'd obviously displayed more than brotherly concern for her person over the last three days—would have left her alone and helpless.

Ren. Just thoughts of his scent and warmth surrounding her in bed made her heart race and her womb spasm. His devotion to her care could be just gratitude on his part, but it felt like more. His actions seemed lover-like as in male-to-female love and not the paternal or sibling kind. Of course, there had been his ever-present hard-on in the village and the rain forest—that physiological response was definitely not the reaction of a brother. Her only conclusion? He was sexually attracted to her. But was there more there than just lust? And how did she feel about it if there were?

Ren as a lover? Her mouth went dry and her vision blurred—probably just low blood sugar. She took a sip of Pepsi. She'd never really thought about taking a lover before. For one, she was young and had overprotective men surrounding her most of her life.

Secondly, there had been no time. Her college classes and later her teaching and research had taken up the majority of her time. Third, she was not a believer in casual sex; she wanted a long-term, loving relationship like her parents had. And, finally, most of the men she'd met either treated her like a freak because of her genius or like a sex toy.

Keely shuddered at the memory of the four men who'd kidnapped, abused, promised her rape, and, ultimately, death. She'd killed two of them. After their buddies had gone off for food and to report to their boss, the two left had attempted to rape her. When they made their move, they underestimated her. They freed her hands and feet, then one held her for the other. Freeing her had been a major mistake, and she took advantage using all the dirty tricks her brothers had taught her. Weakened by their abuse, it had been a perilous fight. Killing them was the only way she could free herself and escape. It had been a close call, one she would only admit to herself. She regretted having to kill, but there had been no way she'd allow them to rape her. Plus, she had to escape to warn her brother.

Idly, she wondered if the police had found the bodies in the dockside warehouse. An anonymous phone call before she boarded the plane in Boston had given the police the general location.

Thrusting the thoughts of the kidnapping and its aftermath back under old news, she set her drink aside and carefully opened the door to one of the suite's three other bedrooms. Empty. At the second try, she found her brother sprawled on his stomach, clothed in just his boxers, on top of the bedspread. The sun beat on his naked back through the large windows. She could see the sweat beading on his skin even in the air-conditioned room. Damn humidity. She flicked on the ceiling fan and then tiptoed to the window and lowered the shade in an attempt to cool off the room even more.

Before leaving to take care of her other needs, she leaned over and kissed him on the top of his messy, dirty blond hair. "Love you, Tweetie."

He mumbled something unintelligible and settled back into sleep. She smiled. Only an earthquake would wake this brother. The others, like their dad, were trained warriors and slept lightly. Tweeter would have been a SEAL like Loren and Paul, the two oldest boys, except for the fact he was the youngest, had a genius IQ, and had been deputized to attend MIT with her as her protector. There were predators everywhere, even at the prestigious university. And he had protected her, devotedly. When she turned eighteen, she lovingly told him to get his own life—and he joined the Maddox brothers at SSI.

Shutting the door to his bedroom behind her, she checked the last room and found it empty, but with signs it had been occupied—Vanko's room.

Ren was nowhere to be found in the large suite of rooms. God only knew where he was. So she guessed she was on her own for seeking sustenance. She glanced at the clock over the bar. Almost lunchtime. She bet there was an eating area by the pool. Her stomach growled loudly at the thought. She patted her flat tummy. She needed fuel, especially if she had to handle three alpha males determined to be overprotective where she was concerned.

Her short-term goal set, she retrieved her drink and re-entered her bedroom.

The shower felt wonderful and the toiletries provided by the hotel were more luxurious than any she used at home. She emerged, smelling like a tropical rain forest, all earthy and flowery at the same time. Running her fingers through her wet curls, she was glad she hadn't quite rinsed out all the coconut-smelling conditioner. It would keep the frizz-quotient down.

She found a unique pottery jar on the counter and lifted the lid. It was an ointment.

She sniffed it. The smell brought almost erotic memories of Ren's large hands gently massaging it into her wounds and bruises. The cream must be some sort of a miracle drug because the five-day-old evidence of her attack had faded so much she had to squint to see anything. The bite marks were also no longer infected, but she chalked that result up to the meds her brother and Ren had gotten into her. She wasn't sure when she had her last dose of antibiotics, but she'd find the med kit and get a tablet to take at her meal to be safe.

Her body clean, lotioned and treated with the miracle cream, she walked into a large closet and found several outfits for her. The guys had been busy. She couldn't find a bathing suit so added that item to her mental to-buy list. The pool called to her. She was a water baby and wanted a swim so badly she could taste it. Searching in all the built-in drawers, she could find no underwear, either. Typical male oversight. She'd have to remedy the deficit as soon as possible. She could go without a bra, but hated to since her breasts were full and needed the support. And going panty-less was not an option, but she could make do until she could get to the shops.

She took an aqua-colored sundress off a hanger and pulled it over her head. The dress had a built-in bra and it fit just fine. Although it showed more cleavage than she normally would. Shoes? She looked around and found a pair of turquoise-jeweled thong sandals. Very chic—and perfect.

Whoever had bought the clothes had excellent taste. For some reason she sensed it hadn't been Ren. He just didn't seem the type of man who knew what clothes would suit a woman. And she knew it hadn't been her brother. He'd never buy her anything that showed her breasts so much—and he'd have bought her underwear. So that left Vanko.

She grinned. Bet the flirty Ukrainian had had fun. That was one man who enjoyed women. He'd dallied with her outside the village cantina, but she'd sensed it had all been in play. She'd take him along when she went to buy more clothing. They'd have a good time. Plus, this was a rough area of the world and she wasn't stupid enough to go shopping in the street markets alone. One kidnapping had been more than enough.

Walking back into the bedroom, she located her backpack. She pulled out a travel wallet on a strap and checked to be sure she had traveler's checks. She would cash some at the front desk; she could charge most things to the room, but she needed cash for tips and such. The antibiotics were on the bedside table and she put the bottle in the small purse. Then she went into the main living area of the suite. Spying her laptop on the table by the window, she went over to see what the guys had accessed. Hitting a key, she woke it up and saw with satisfaction they had read it all. Good, she wouldn't have to talk about what happened and why she'd done what she had. The explanations had all been in her reports. Closing the laptop, she looked around and located a key card for the room on a chest by the door. She picked it up and put it in her travel purse.

As she went to leave the room, she thought about a weapon. She couldn't see her Bren and it wouldn't fit into her small purse any way. Her knife was also too big. She shrugged. She should be safe in public space in a resort hotel, but she'd leave the guys a note so they wouldn't go apeshit when they found her gone.

Hurrying over to the desk, she wrote a note telling them where she'd be, the time she left, and the time she expected to be back. Taking the note pad, she propped it against the laptop, then left. She was hungrier than she could ever remember being. She hoped the restaurant had burgers, 'cause she needed red meat.

* * * *

Keely approached the hostess stand at the poolside restaurant. She could've eaten in the main dining room, but the blue water of the Olympic size pool and the breeze blowing in from the falls beckoned her.

"
Hola, senorita.
One for lunch?"

"Yes." Keely scanned the area, ignoring the lascivious stares of men as they stripped her naked with their eyes. Uncomfortable with the avid scrutiny, she asked, "Could I have a private cabana, please?"

"It is not a problem," the pretty brunette said with a smile. "Please follow me."

Keely walked behind the hostess, aware that a majority of the male eyes followed their progression through the poolside restaurant.

Damn, maybe this hadn't been a good idea. Her hair was like a beacon. She should have called room service, but wanted, no needed, to get out, to act like a tourist—to be normal. She hoped her indulgence wouldn't come back to bite her very naked butt.

The hostess gestured to the table. Keely smiled and slipped her ten dollars. "Please close the draperies."

"I understand,
senorita.
Your hair—it is very beautiful. The men, they cannot resist looking, wanting to touch the fire."

"Thank you. My fiancé—
mi novio
—likes it well enough." And where in the heck had the idea of a fiancé come from?

The hostess's gaze moved to her left hand. Her ring-less left hand. Busted already.

Damn, she'd have to get a ring to underline her lie. It would be better for her to be engaged and considered off-limits while she was in South America. Not that a ring or the threat of a fiancé waiting in the wings would stop all men, but it would most of them.

"Your server is Teresa. She will be with you soon. Enjoy your meal." The hostess lay the menu in front of her then left, releasing the sheer draperies to close Keely inside.

Even though the draperies were tissue-thin, their closure gave her some peace of mind. Yet the men would still be there later, watching for her departure. Maybe there was a back way out?

A few seconds later, a young girl entered, smiling shyly. "The dress it is very beautiful on you. Senor Vanko and I thought it would be." She poured water into one of the crystal goblets on the table.

"You helped Vanko buy my clothes?" She looked at the girl and guessed them to be of an age. Teresa was petite with small breasts and hips, dark-haired, dark-eyed, with a beautiful full-lipped smile. She could see Vanko flirting with her.

"Yes. The men, your
novio
, especially, were so concerned. They had the doctor in to see you."

Her
novio
, huh? Wonder whose idea that had been? The men must have realized how awkward it would look to have three men in the same suite with her. They'd come up with the same fiction she had to protect her. Had it been Ren's idea? Her gut said it had.

The thought warmed her.

Teresa pointed toward Keely's bared shoulder. "I see my grandmother's salve helped the bruises and other marks."

"It is a wonder drug. Does your grandmother sell it in the market?"

"No, no. She is the local
curanderia
. The people, they come to her house. I take Senor Vanko there and he explain what happened and she make for you." The girl smiled.

"Each person needs their own special magic,
si
?"

"Yes." Keely held out a hand and the girl placed hers in it. "Thank you. I would love to meet your grandmother and take more of this ointment home with me. I bruise easily."

"Men can be brutal pigs." Teresa bit out the words as if she knew of what she spoke.

Looked like they shared something else in common.

"Not my men." She didn't want the girl to think Ren, Vanko or Tweetie had hurt her.

"I understand. Your men are honorable."

"Yes, they are." She gently squeezed the girl's hand, then let it go. Her stomach's angry growl reminded her of why she was there. She laughed. "Do you have hamburgers?

I'm starved."

"Yes, the finest Argentine beef." Teresa wrote on her pad. "What would you like with that?"

"A salad. Your house dressing. Fresh fruit. A Pepsi or Coke—oh, and make the burger well done, with mayonnaise on the side."

"It will be done. I will bring the salad and your drink right away."

"
Gracias
, Teresa. And later, could I ask you to take me to the shop where you and Vanko bought the clothing? I need some more items."

Teresa nodded and grinned. "Like lingerie? Senor Vanko turned very red when I mentioned such."

"That surprises me. He is very much a flirt."

"
Si
, he is, but he said your
novio
would not like him purchasing such intimate items for you. So he bought none."

Keely flushed at the thought of Ren purchasing underwear for her. Would he pick practical or sexy? She shivered, remembering his long-fingered touch as he rubbed ointment into her breasts. She'd bet on sexy—black or red. "Yes, my
novio
wouldn't like it at all. Let me know when you have some free time. I'd be happy to pay you to accompany me."

"No need to pay. Maybe Senor Vanko could go along? To guard your hair?" Teresa grinned and winked.

"Maybe." She laughed at the mischievous twinkle in the Argentinian girl's eyes.

Teresa left the cabana in a swirl of gauze draperies.