“A question.” She drew breath. “Are you playing Wakai and me off against each other?”
Jarun snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself. And I don’t play games when it comes to my friends. Wakai knows damn well what Alak Montri will do if he gets free, especially with three dozen gangs behind him. That means Wakai needs Tasanee. Without her, he has to keep depending on Victoria’s friends for protection. With her, he won’t need anyone but me.”
Something started to tweak for her. She took a step closer. “So you’re partnering with Wakai, then?”
“No, I’m trying to protect him. From you. From Victoria. Even from himself.”
And there it was. The soft hitch in his voice. Ah. Progress. She took it one more step. She crawled on the bed and laid down beside him.
Kannon was right there, standing over them. Jarun’s body stiffened, though it was hard to tell if it was from her languid proximity or Kannon’s aggressive stance.
Gina propped her head on her hand. “I get it. You and Wakai are…close. You’d like to have him all to yourself.”
Jarun’s lip curled. “It’s not like that between us.”
Nearly word for word what Ryota had said of him and Tasanee. “You want to cheapen it,” he went on. “Make it into something sordid, like it is with you and your Yakuza lapdog.”
Not nearly as sordid as she wanted it. “Believe me, I know what it’s like to want someone you can’t have. So here’s what I propose.” She was winging it. “You tell us where Wakai is, where Montri is, and you and Wakai go free.”
Jarun looked at her as if she was the idiot she felt like. “Montri would never allow that.”
“Montri would never have to know,” she ploughed on. “We’d get the two of you out of Thailand with enough money to disappear.”
“And I’m supposed to just trust your word on that? I bet we’d disappear. Right to the bottom of the Gulf.”
Gina’s mind was racing. She needed something to sweeten the deal. Something to gain Jarun’s cooperation. The moments stretched out to an embarrassing length, before it occurred to her. “Even if I set you loose right now you wouldn’t be free. Neither you nor Wakai. So long as Victoria’s alive you’re both going to be bound to her sick whims. I’m not your enemy, Jarun, and you’re not mine. The real enemy is that perverted, sadistic bitch. And with her gone we can all get what we want.”
Jarun hesitated. “What are you saying?”
Later Gina found that the most surprising thing was not what she said, but how easily she said it. “That we’ll kill her. Montri will get the city back. Tasanee can go back to a normal life. And you and Wakai can go start a new life far away from Thailand, exiled together. Everybody wins. Now enough bullshit. Do we have a deal, or do you want to test your claim that Kannon is washed-up?”
And with their heads together on pillows, and Kannon with pointed gun hovering above, Gina and her prisoner chatted.
Kittyjack smiled as she guided her drone high above Bangkok, zooming in on a particular apartment tower. “That, my friends, is the Maharaja Xecutive. Fourteen stories tall, containing eighty-four two-bedroom deluxe suites—and one seriously nice penthouse. Technically, the top floor is still unsold, but seeing as the place was completed seven years ago, that’s a little suspicious. Only way up is by private elevator and an emergency stairwell, both of which are tightly secured.”
In the night-time photo, a lit fountain sprayed up a giant water flower and more halogen lamps coursed white light up the walls. Gina’s apartment was in a similar building in L.A. All very chic and modern—and lifeless. You could live there for years and never know your neighbors. Never know if you even had any. “Very pretty—for a fortress.”
“That’s exactly what it is,” Kannon said. “And in the middle of the city, no less. Try and crack that by force and we’ll have half the cops in Bangkok after us.”
“How do we do it?” Gina asked.
Kannon didn’t answer right away, his eyes locked on the screen. “There is a way, but it’s risky.”
“And what happens once you do?” Dr. Chaiboonma interrupted from behind them, his voice drawing their collective attention.
Oh nice, Gina thought. Dr. Chai was going to take up where he left off, proclaiming her as the prodigal daughter.
“Then the rakshasas are kicked out of Bangkok,” she answered. “Once Alak Montri’s free, you can bet the gangs will line up behind him.”
“And he’ll most certainly win,” said Dr. Chaiboonma. “By attrition, if nothing else. But how long before the next gang shows up? Montri’s already fought seven turf wars in twenty years. This will be his eighth, and the second one against an usurper.”
Gina didn’t want to be dragged into a debate. “That’s the nature of the business.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” replied Dr. Chaiboonma. “At least half those battles could have been avoided by negotiation. The rest could have been discouraged by intimidation. Your boss considers himself a nationalist, and in truth he loves his king like every good Thai. That doesn’t make him any less of a blight on the people of Bangkok. All he’s brought is violence and death to this city and no matter how you cut it, that kind of instability is bad for business. Very bad.”
Gina threw up her hands. “What would you suggest? Letting the rakshasas win? Of all the foreigners that have tried to take over, they have to be the worst.”
“I’m not suggesting we surrender,” Dr. Chaiboonma said. “What I don’t understand is why the gangs of Bangkok only ever seem to be united under a dictator. The muscle to crush the rakshasas exists right now, yet each gang sits in hiding, none of them willing to support the others without someone to give them their marching orders.”
Beside her, Kannon was his usual inscrutable self, which meant that he didn’t like the direction Dr. Chai was taking either. Sure, she’d avoided violence with Jarun, only because she’d promised to get another person killed. And who had she implied would do the job? Yes, she was a hypocrite, telling Kannon to avoid violence, and then practically signing him up for it. “The bottom line is that Montri’s my father’s friend. His daughter is my god-sister. Regardless of what he does after we get him out, those are reasons enough to rescue him. The same would hold true if it was you who’d been kidnapped, Dr. Chai.”
The leader of the Bangkok Blondes softened at that. “You’ve got a good heart, Gina. You should use it for a good purpose.”
She was getting nowhere. Time for him to hear the truth. “Ha!” She turned to Kannon. “Tell him how my good heart is useless when it comes to getting things done. Tell him how I nearly blew it this morning with Jarun.”
Kannon took off his glasses. “She did fine.”
He was being nice because he still felt she was the boss. “No, Kannon. I give you permission. Tell it like it is.”
Kannon’s head listed slightly towards her before adjusting to continue with Dr. Chai. “Her methods are—unorthodox, but she gets the job done.”
Gina felt her jaw drop, actually feel the hinges crack from the sudden release. Did he really approve?
“I agree,” Ryota piped up.
“Thanks a bunch,” Gina snapped, “for your total lack of support during my time of crisis.”
The three men exchanged looks, the kind of gingery glances made around unstable people. Even Kittyjack was staring at her screen as if her life depended on it. None of them understood. She simply didn’t have what it took.
She fastened onto Kannon. “You said there’s a way into Wakai’s penthouse?”
He pointed at the screen to a corner of the building inset with a decorative pattern. “Someone could use those as a series of handholds. See how it runs all the way from the ground floor to the rooftop, and how there’s not much light? If someone went at night, they could climb all the way up unnoticed. An expert climber could do it.”
Kittyjack snorted in disbelief. “That’s about a two hundred foot climb, and even if you’re agile, you sure as hell ain’t ligh
t.”
Kannon gave Gina a meaningful look. “It wouldn’t be me that would be doing the climbing.”
Gina’s stomach lurched as the drone passed over the building, giving her a clear perspective of exactly how high fourteen stories really was. “You think she’d be able to do it?”
“The way she climbs, I don’t have any doubt,” Kannon answered. “The real question is if she’s willing to come out of retirement.”
Delta and Brian weren’t due for another seventeen hours, and Kannon planned to make good use of the down time. He called his favorite restaurant, and then Gina on The Pink Pussycat.
“I’ve got reservations at Pern Dee for eight tonight. Care to join me?”
He made out happy squeals and chatter in the background. Although the 70 Rai children weren’t due to head back to Cambodia until the next morning, that didn’t entirely explain the level of noise.
“Tonight?” she blared.
“Yes. If you can’t make it, that’s fine.” And it was, he told himself. Just fine.
“No, I should be able to get away.”
Kannon couldn’t remember the last time he’d walked into a public place with a woman he didn’t have to be careful around. His wife had never known the full extent of his dealings, and after her, he’d always steered his conversations with women away from his work and life. That had two results: half the women he dated quickly began to distrust him, and the ones who were happy to keep the focus solely on themselves weren’t the kind he wanted to be with. In the end, he’d gotten so weary of the dating game, he’d dropped out. Pensri served his purposes well enough.
Then along came Gina.
Within a minute of being seated, the short, round waiter and Gina were clacking to each other in Thai like old friends. Kannon intercepted the waiter’s downward gaze at Gina.
“What would you recommend?” Kannon inquired, weighting each word.
The waiter waved his hand at the menu. “It is all good,” he stumbled in English. He turned to Gina. “You like prawns?”
“Does the sun set in the west? Of course! Surprise me. Whatever you think I should have, and don’t worry.” She pointed at Kannon. “He’s paying.”
The waiter turned to Kannon. “And you, sir? The usual?”
“Surprise me, too.” The waiter fumbled his pencil. What the hell did the little butterball think he’d do? Kill him over a prawn? “Just no papaya. Make it as hot as you can.”
As the waiter turned away, Gina touched his arm and whispered in rapid Thai to him, looking all excited.
“What did you tell him?” asked Kannon.
“Told him this was the first time you’ve taken me out. And that we wanted it to be something special. Something we’d remember for the rest of our lives.”
Kannon narrowed his eyes at the doors the waiter had bumped through. “A case of food poisoning would do that. I should’ve stuck with my usual.”
“Kannon! Really, quit being so paranoid.”
“Comes with the territory.” He settled his eyes on her. She looked great. Her hair was in ringlets, the purple tips like ribbon twining through it all. She was wearing a skintight dress, red and yellow—backless and damn near frontless. It was amazing. “You realize that without your sunglasses, I can see you’re looking at my boobies.”
At a table beside their booth, the husband of an elderly Thai couple glanced at Gina and then at his triple-chinned wife and then back at his menu.
“I know for a fact that you wore that dress so I would.”
Gina rolled her eyes. “Duh.”
“Zoe says that. But she’s fifteen. How old are you?”
“Thirty-one years old.” She gave a secretive look. “Today.”
“Today’s your birthday?”
“Had a big party on the boat. Was going to pull an all-nighter, when you called.”
“You left your own birthday party to go on a date with me?”
“When have I ever lied to you?”
“You haven’t. I don’t understand why you left the party, is all.”
A strained look crossed her face. “Daddy was getting tired, and I knew he wouldn’t have rested while I was there.”
“My call was serendipitous is what you’re saying.”
Gina grinned. “So I accepted. And I have to say I love the gift you got me.”
Kannon looked around. “Well, this place isn’t that fancy.”
“Not the meal, Kannon,” she laughed, reaching out to place her hand on his. “I mean our second date. Our first one ended kind of awkwardly. Was a little worried there wasn’t going to be another.”
The waiter arrived with the appetizer. Prawns, of course. Gina let out a little moan he felt in his cock. “This looks delicious.” She popped one in and sucked spicy red sauce off every finger. “I can’t believe how much I love these.”
“I’m getting the idea.”
Her mouth stilled and she withdrew a finger. “Listen, Kannon, I wasn’t trying to—tease you.”
He had to say it—and fast. “Gina, I know. I got the message at that fertility temple. It’s like what you told Jarun. This is a temporary arrangement, and I can live with that. I’m not going to lie and say that I wasn’t hoping for something more. The way things have worked out, I see it wasn’t one of my better ideas. So how about we do things Thai-style, and enjoy each other for the time being?”
Gina bit her lip. “We could—”
“Do I know you from somewhere?” The Thai man from the next table had leaned across to address Gina.
From your wet dreams, thought Kannon. “I don’t think so,” he said, low and final.
Gina ignored him, and started in with twenty questions to place them in her social history. It turned out Kannon was right, but that didn’t stop Gina from launching into an extended conversation with the older couple. To Kannon’s horror, pictures were soon being called up on the woman’s cell phone, and Gina left the booth to lean over the couple’s table, gushing over pictures of children and grandchildren. The old man had probably never taken more interest in his progeny, Gina’s breasts nearly spilling out from her dress.
The entrée arrived and the date resumed, their waiter obviously eager to please. “Is everything to your satisfaction?”
Gina looked at Kannon with deliberation. She dipped her finger into the sauce and put it in her mouth. She extracted it with a slow pull. “Positively orgasmic.”
Yes, they were going Thai-style tonight. The waiter grew heavy-lidded and gazed at her like one of Snow White’s dwarves, then opened them on Kannon “And you, sir?”
Kannon gave him a level stare. “Everything’s mutually orgasmic here.”
The waiter blinked, retreated.
Kannon needed to say one more thing. “One proviso to going Thai. I’m done with sharing you for tonight. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Her answer was quick, so he knew she meant it. He got serious about his meal. It was hot and spicy, the way he liked it. One thing he had come to enjoy about Bangkok was its food, though he preferred to sit indoors without dogs and traffic to disturb him. He raised his head to make that distinction to Gina to find her staring open-mouthed at him. He dabbed his mouth with his napkin and glanced down at his shirt-front. Nothing. She still looked as if he’d swallowed a shoe.
“What?”
“You always eat like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like this.” She reached over and popped in a pork bit thick with sauce. There then ensued a lot of tongue work and sucking in breath and puckering, building up to a happy sound of pleasure that was too over-the-top to be him.
“That’s not me.”
She aimed her chopsticks at his mouth. “So you.”
“Huh. Guess I can tease, too.”
And then they were grinning at each other, like goofs in love. This was as good a time as any. He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small present. “Happy birthday, Gina.”
S
he dropped her chopsticks. “Kannon! How did you know?”
“I didn’t, actually. I was planning to give you this, anyway. Since it’s your birthday, let’s call it a birthday present.”
She tore it open and he was treated to a second squealing of his name. “Kannon! She’s adorable.” She set the purple vixen figurine, a miniature version of the one in Dr. Chaiboonma’s boardroom, on the table between them. “How did you know?”
“It’s my job to watch you.” He paused. “Sometimes, it’s my pleasure.”
Her face brightened and softened, and her shiny lips parted. He had to get them out of there. “So, birthday girl, what would you like to do after dinner?”
“There’s a club around the corner from here called 2XS. Best happy hardcore music in the city.”
Happy hardcore? “Get the feeling I’m too old for it.”
“But it’s my birthday.” She stuck out her lip.
“I thought my daughter pouted because she inherited the ability from her mother. Apparently it’s gender-specific.”
Gina laughed, dislodging a drop of sauce from her chopstick onto her open chest where it began a slow trickle down. Kannon blew out his breath. “I’ll take you. Only until midnight. By then your birthday will be over and I’ll be deaf.”
That got her moving—it was already coming up on ten.
It turned out that the only thing sexier than Gina eating was Gina dancing, especially to the frenetic pace of the synthesized music. The way she moved as the lights pulsed around her it was as if she were part of an orgy, especially given the amount of unnecessary bumping from others into her. She touched his waist. “You dance well for a sixty-year-old.”
He’d been so focused on her dancing that he hadn’t noticed what his body was doing.
Gina Takes Bangkok (The Femme Vendettas) Page 17
