Tempted Into Danger

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Tempted Into Danger Page 17

by Melissa Cutler


  They’d discussed this on the phone, he and his crew, yet he hadn’t filled her in. Why not? Probably because he thought she’d fly off the handle given her abandonment issues.

  Time to prove to him she’d changed from the meek, fearful woman she’d been that first day. She was going to face her future, however out of her control it was, with her chin held high, her newly acquired bravery firmly in place. Even if she didn’t trust herself to keep a neutral expression if she looked at Diego.

  She attempted to return Alicia’s smile instead. “These people you have orders to deliver me to, they’re your bosses, right? So I’m guessing that going against their direct order would get you all in trouble?”

  Diego leaned forward. She glanced at his hands folded between his knees but still couldn’t muster the bravado to meet his gaze.

  “Don’t go filling your head with things that aren’t your problem.” He patted the seat next to him. “Come here.”

  And now he was patronizing her, like she was a child that needed talking to. But the truth was she’d brought it on herself with her constant need for reassurance. She’d made the man sit with her while she slept, for pity’s sake.

  “Here is good. I’m fine. Really.” She forced her eyes to his face in order to prove it to him. “And it is my problem. You and your crew saved my life and I’m not going to repay you by getting you in trouble with your jobs. It’s okay to deliver me to the new safe house like you’re supposed to. I bet ICE is going to be extra cautious this time not to leak the location, so there’s no reason not to comply with your boss’s orders.”

  “Move it, Phoenix.” Diego just about tossed Alicia out of the way. Taking her place, he crooked his knee on the seat and cupped Vanessa’s chin in his hand.

  “Do you think I spent the last three days keeping you safe just to deliver you somewhere and say ‘See ya and good luck’?”

  “That’s what would happen if you were to escort me straight to WitSec, so I don’t see how this is any different. I’ll be on my own eventually, so it might as well be now.”

  Something flickered in his eyes and tightened his jaw. Frustration, if she had to name it. As though he hated knowing what she said was true. That made two of them, but hating the facts didn’t change them.

  She wrenched her chin from his hand and looked at John, ignoring Alicia’s, Ryan’s and Rory’s stares. “John, go ahead and deliver me to ICE’s new safe house.” The words left her breathless and her heart aching so bad she couldn’t believe it was still beating. She was determined to face her future with her chin held high, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt like hell.

  “John only takes orders from me.” The calm authority in Diego’s tone left no room for challenge. He took her hand in his. “You’re not going anywhere, so relax.”

  Relax? Maybe that would’ve been possible if they were alone and she could kiss him to forget her worries, but with so many eyes on her and so many people’s lives and jobs at stake, relaxing was out of the question.

  Still, she attempted a deep, calming inhale and nodded.

  Diego squeezed her hand, then released it and looked across the seats to Ryan and Alicia. “I told you guys to figure out a place for Vanessa to work, so where’s it going to be? Somebody give me some answers I’m gonna like because Vanessa’s been harassing me for days about getting some sleep and I’m about ready to take her up on the suggestion.”

  Despite everything, she felt the slightest tug of a smile on her lips. “I’ve hardly been harassing you.”

  He darted an “Oh, please” look at her.

  Alicia raised an index finger topped with an acrylic French-tip nail. “How about my Leroy?”

  Diego’s brow wrinkled. “Why would you give up the location like that?”

  “It makes the most sense,” Alicia said. “I already have the computer equipment Vanessa and I would need to hack in to RioBank, along with a change of clothes for Vanessa and a working shower.”

  Geez, that sounded good. The last real shower she’d taken had been Thursday night. She didn’t exactly have a vote but decided to put her two cents in anyway. “That would be divine.”

  “Where’s this Leroy?” Diego asked.

  “Near the Costa Rica border. John knows the way,” Alicia said.

  Rory twisted in his chair. “How does John know the way? You two have something going on we need to discuss?”

  John kept his eyes on the road, quiet, but Alicia snickered. “In his dreams. No, he knows because I’d already decided to look into a new Leroy, so I asked him to pick me up there on the way to this rendezvous.”

  “Sounds great to me. Let’s do it,” Diego said.

  “Hang on, everyone, because the road’s about to get bumpy,” John called. He waved a cassette tape. “Now that we’ve got that all settled, it’s time for some tunes.”

  Everyone groaned. Vanessa did, too. She didn’t see how it could get any bumpier. In fact, the strip of packed dirt they were bouncing over could barely be called a road. Already she’d gone airborne several times and had to brace her legs wide to keep from crashing into Diego.

  The opening notes of Michael Jackson’s “Bad” sounded from the stereo.

  “At least he didn’t start with ‘Man in the Mirror,’” Diego called to Vanessa over the music. “I’ve heard that song so many times it’s like the soundtrack to my nightmares.”

  Alicia and Rory chuckled. Even Ryan looked like he found it funny, but it was hard to tell.

  Of all Diego’s crew members, she was having the most trouble putting her finger on who he was. He’d barely said a word, and his smiles and facial expressions were of the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it variety. Compared to Diego’s caged-animal energy, Ryan was the black ops equivalent of a statue. But she’d seen him in action in the alley behind her apartment. She’d watched him shoot to kill and knew he was as skilled and lethal as the rest of them.

  Unbelievably, the rattle-bounce got worse, as John had warned. Diego’s head hit the ceiling once, much to the delight of Alicia and Rory.

  Vanessa gripped the armrest more firmly so she wouldn’t go flying. “I take it he plays Michael Jackson a lot?”

  “How do you think he got the call name Thriller?” Diego asked.

  The volume dropped. “I’m telling you, Vanessa,” John called over his shoulder, “most people think love is the international language, but they’re wrong. Michael Jackson’s what it’s all about. In fact, this album saved my life ten years ago in the Czech Republic.”

  Alicia rolled her eyes.

  Diego shook his head. “Hell, no. I’d rather listen to ‘Heal the World’ on repeat than hear that story one more time. Vanessa and I’ve been through the ringer, so how about you do me a favor and save it for after I’m asleep?”

  “You got it, boss. Stay tuned, Vanessa. You’re going to love that story, guaranteed.”

  John’s good mood was infectious. She loved his jocularity, but it was also the aspect of his personality that made it difficult to picture him as an effective black ops agent. Nevertheless, they rocked and bumped over the jungle road, the tension that had crackled through the air in the van virtually gone. Maybe Michael Jackson was the international language after all.

  Yawning despite the jostling car, loud music and John’s even louder off-key singing, Diego settled his head in the corner of the seat back and the window. “Time for some shut-eye. You sit here with me and take deep breaths. Try to relax. Everything’s going to work out because I’m going to make it work out.”

  She nudged his thigh with her knuckles. “Because that’s your job, right?”

  With eyes half-lidded and drowsy, he grinned and twined his fingers with hers, then pulled their joined hands on to his lap. After another huge yawn, he closed his eyes.

  Vanessa looked around. Everyone, even
John through the rearview mirror, was gawking at her. She offered them a tentative smile and decided to bulldoze through the awkward moment with levity. “No big deal. I’m sure he holds all the assets’ hands, am I right?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Alicia said. “He’s real touchy-feely that way.”

  “Still awake here,” Diego grumbled without opening his eyes. “And I can hold whoever’s damn hand I want. Get over it.”

  That settled that. Vanessa gave his hand a little squeeze and bit her lip against an affectionate grin at his grumpy declaration. “So, John, back to that Michael Jackson story. You said this album saved your life?”

  Chapter 16

  “Your Leroy is a timeshare?”

  They stood in the shadow of a high-rise beach resort, watching tourists lug beach gear and children through the parking lot toward the sand. He should’ve guessed Alicia wouldn’t scrimp on luxury even in an emergency situation.

  Alicia shook her hair back. “Damn right. In the full-time vacation condo section of the resort. Think about it. Vacationers don’t notice if I haven’t been around for months or years, and they don’t bat an eyelash if I come and go at odd hours. It’s the perfect setup. I can’t believe none of you ever thought about doing the same.”

  “Nope,” Diego said. “But I like the way you think. I can hear the shower calling my name all the way from here. Lead the way, Phoenix.”

  Alicia’s one-bedroom condo sat on the corner of the third floor off a private hallway with a nice patio area at the front door. The inside was classy in a beige furniture and fake palm trees kind of way. Usually places where the ambiance seemed tailor-made for a mobster’s mistress or a corporate stiff’s extended stay at a convention hotel gave Diego the willies, but he liked that Vanessa would have every amenity she needed, including a bed and a fresh change of clothes.

  With directions from Alicia to pick anything she wanted from the closet and use whatever toiletries she needed in the bathroom during her shower, Vanessa disappeared into the master bedroom clutching one of the new toothbrushes John had detoured to the resort’s general store to buy.

  It was useless to try to stop himself from picturing her getting naked. That was a given, seeing as how he’d spent the better part of the past few days fantasizing about her in much the same state—sopping wet and naked. The real problem now was that he was imagining the other men on his crew picturing her like that.

  Nobody had said anything or indicated in any way that’s what they were thinking—they were all too smart to pull that kind of bonehead move—but he couldn’t stop the jealousy, however irrational it was. He prowled to the kitchen and got a drink of water, at a loss for what to do, feeling cranky and filthy, totally out of place in the sterile condo.

  He considered timing his phone call to Dreyer with Vanessa’s shower to keep her in the dark so she wouldn’t worry, but he thought better of it. He wanted her to hear him tell Dreyer he could take his demands about handing her over and shove them where the sun don’t shine. That way, maybe she’d take another step toward trusting him. He could hope, anyway.

  The shower water turned off. He braced his hands on the counter and listened through the wall to her moving around, ticking off all the reasons he wasn’t storming in there to towel her dry and toss her on the bed. Topping the list was the fact that she deserved a whole lot more than a one-night stand and that’s about all he had to offer.

  He’d racked his brain, but it was impossible to keep his promise to Ossie and still make Vanessa number one in his life. A week or two together at the most would be all they’d have, then he’d be off on another mission, leaving her alone, as she’d reminded him in the van.

  See ya later and good luck.

  He hated the idea.

  “Hey.” Alicia’s voice made him jump. “Finding everything you need?”

  “Yeah. You have a secured internet connection in this place?”

  She nodded. “My encrypted internet link is set up and ready to roll in the living room.”

  “Good. As soon as Vanessa’s out of the bedroom, dial Dreyer. Get him on video phone. I want to see the look on his face when he explains to me why his operation went FUBAR.”

  Ten minutes later, Vanessa emerged dressed in black stretchy pants and a tank top, looking so pretty and comfortable that he nearly lost his resolve to keep his distance.

  Alicia set her laptop on the coffee table and tapped on the keyboard. “Good morning, sir,” she said into the computer’s camera. “I’ve got Agent Santero here, ready to speak with you.”

  “Put him on,” Dreyer said.

  Diego rolled his shoulders back, then took Alicia’s place on the sofa. “Sir,” he said. He never could muster anything friendlier than that when it came to the pencil-pushing Feds.

  “Agent Santero. Glad to see you and your team are alive and well.”

  Diego frowned, irked by the man’s insincerity. “You mean, you’re glad Vanessa Crosby’s alive and well. Because honestly? Forget about us. We’re not what this mission is about. She is.”

  Dreyer’s expression was instantly weary. So he didn’t care for Diego. That feeling went both ways.

  “With all due respect,” Dreyer said, “this mission is about stopping the sale of a narco-submarine to a Colombian cartel and putting a stop to a bulk cash smuggling scam. Vanessa Crosby’s safety is one component of the mission’s success—a large component, mind you—but not the primary objective.”

  Wrong answer. “Screw the submarine sale and bulk cash. The mission you assigned me and my crew only has one objective, and that is ensuring an asset’s safety. That’s what we’re going to do, and that’s all we’re going to do. While we’re on the subject, how about you tell me what happened that compromised the safe house? If we’d delivered Miss Crosby to you a few minutes earlier, she’d be dead. No doubt in my mind.”

  “We haven’t yet determined the cause of the security breach. Either someone leaked the information or we were followed,” Dreyer said.

  Diego made a fist, then flexed and drummed his fingers on his knee. Dreyer’s lack of information and condescending answers were making his blood boil. “How do you not know? What have you and your ICEWALL team been doing the last three days?”

  “Stand down, Agent Santero. I am your superior and you will show me respect.”

  Pretty much, Diego wanted to punch Dreyer’s face through the computer, then quit his job. Might’ve even done it had Vanessa not been there.

  Not only was she in the room, but the minute he started unleashing on Dreyer, she transferred next to him on the sofa out of the camera’s range and touched her knee to his. He draped his arm over her leg, hooked his fingers around her knee and let a stream of air out through his nose, slow and steady.

  “Respect is a two-way street, Dreyer. And I’m not seeing a whole lot coming our way lately.”

  “I understand your frustration. You and your team have my blessing to take a long furlough after you deliver Vanessa Crosby to us. I’ll find another unit to escort her to the bank.”

  Her leg went stiff. He rubbed it, trying to get her to relax. “Vanessa Crosby isn’t getting anywhere near your Operation ICEWALL lackeys or the bank. She has enough data with her to follow the money trail for the sub sale from our remote location. After I pass you the account information you need to stop the sale, I’m delivering her straight to the U.S. Marshals Service for WitSec placement.”

  “No, you’re not. Let me lay out the facts for you. The Chiara brothers are in Panama purchasing a Russian-built submarine that they’re planning to turn around and sell to a group of Colombian narco dealers. Our informant has reason to believe the sub’s coming loaded with human cargo. The Chiaras negotiated some kind of package deal.”

  “Human cargo?” Vanessa whispered.

  Diego shifted his focus to her. “Girl
s that are going to be sold into prostitution.”

  Her eyes widened, horrified. And she was right. It was horrifying.

  “We don’t know where the sale’s going to take place,” Dreyer continued. “But we do know the Chiaras are holding the money in RioBank and using the help of an insider to complete the transaction. There’s no way to dissolve an account of that size remotely, and we can’t go through legal channels to freeze the account because it would take too long and tip off whoever the insider is.”

  The prick was breaking the details down into digestible pieces like he was performing a rehearsed act for Vanessa. Like she’d get swept away by his talents of persuasion and volunteer to put herself in mortal danger again.

  “This sale is happening tomorrow night,” Dreyer continued. “Vanessa Crosby is the only person with the power to prevent dozens of young girls from being sold into sexual slavery, stop a submarine that will be used to smuggle millions of dollars of cocaine into the United States, and shut down the Chiaras for good. This is our one window of opportunity and she’s our only hope.”

  The melodrama made him want to puke. “Not a chance.”

  Vanessa leaned in front of him and looked at the camera. “I’ll do it.”

  Like hell she would.

  He snapped the laptop’s lid closed. “I am not risking your life for this half-baked, piece-of-junk operation.”

  “When you got involved with this mission, you knew I’d be asked to go back to the bank. That was the plan all along and you were on board with it. What changed?”

  What changed? Was she kidding with that question? Everything had changed since those first few hours when he was nothing but a chauffeur and she was nothing but an asset.

  Somewhere in the jungle, doing his job got tangled up with his need to protect one beautiful, brilliant woman at all costs. “You want to know what changed? I got a clue about how screwed up this mission is and how much I don’t want you part of it. I got a clue about the loss it would be to the world if something bad happened to you.” The loss it would be to me.

 

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