Flawless Danger (The Spencer & Sione #1)

by Rachel Woods

After a moment, Ben said, “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

  Clutching one of the bamboo bedposts, she held on for support as she sobbed. “No, you’re not.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “I already told you,” she sniffed. “That guy you told me about, the one with the green snake on his face? He broke into my casita, and he tied me up like an animal, and I know you told him to terrorize me!”

  A few seconds of silence passed and then Ben said, “Did you call the police?”

  “Sione Tuiali’i called the cops.”

  “Why did Sione Tuiali’i call the police?” Ben asked. “Was he there when you were attacked?”

  “He saved my life,” Spencer said. “He heard me screaming and he ran to my rescue. If not for him, your friend would have raped me and killed me. Or killed me and then raped me.”

  “Tommy Fong is no friend of mine,” Ben muttered.

  “Tommy Fong?” Her voice broke as fresh tears threatened to fall. “That’s the sick asshole who attacked me? His name is Tommy Fong?”

  “Sweet girl, tell me this—you didn’t bring my name up to Sione Tuiali’i, did you?”

  “I didn’t mention your name to him, or to the cops,” Spencer said. “I’m not stupid.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t accidentally slip and mention my name?” Ben asked. “Because no one can know about our connection.”

  “I didn’t mention your damn name!”

  “Don’t take that tone with me,” he said. “You have had a difficult day, I understand that. And your experience has made you emotional. But you can get past this sweet girl.”

  “No, I can’t,” she cried, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. “I thought he was going to kill me. I thought he was going to take me somewhere and rape me and—”

  “You’re stronger than you think, sweet girl,” he said. “Now, get ahold of yourself. You can’t fall apart. There is too much at stake for you. You need to keep it together. You owe it to me to get your mind straight.”

  “So I can do that favor for you.” She laughed softly, wiping away a tear. “That’s why you don’t want me to lose my mind. You don’t give a damn about my mental stability. You just want that damn favor done, right?”

  “What I want is what I can’t have,” he said. “What I want is to understand why you stole from me. What I want is to understand how I could have been so wrong about you and about us. I thought you felt the same way I did. And I will never understand why you decided to destroy what we could have had.”

  Shame and guilt rushed in, replacing the rage and frustration. At a loss for words, she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the sadness pooling in her chest. “Ben …” she started, still not sure what to say. “I, um …”

  The line disconnected.

  Instead of anger, Spencer felt only relief. His words had shocked and disturbed her. She’d never really realized the depths of his feelings for her. She’d figured he liked her but not enough to make any kind of real commitment to her.

  He wanted to know why she’d sabotaged their relationship, but she couldn’t explain, not to his satisfaction. She could tell him her reasons, but she would never be able to make him understand.

  chapter 16

  San Ignacio, Belize

  Belizean Banyan Resort - Honeymoon Casita

  Standing under the rainforest showerhead, Spencer closed her eyes as water streamed down her face, over her nose and mouth, and down the back of her neck, feeling some of the tension leaving her body as she rubbed the washcloth over her shoulders.

  Two days had passed since she’d arrived at the Belizean Banyan Resort, and she was still finding it difficult to relax, to get a good night’s sleep. The plush, king-sized bed didn’t provide the comfort it should have. Spencer figured she tossed and turned at night because she was anxious about Step Two and she was still suffering lingering post-traumatic effects from Tommy Fong’s vicious attack.

  Scrubbing her body with coconut-scented soap, Spencer thought about the favor Ben wanted her to do.

  Sweet girl gets close to the resort owner.

  She’d have to make it happen, even though she wasn’t feeling very sure of herself at the moment. She had never been one of those women who pretended she didn’t know she was beautiful and sexy. She couldn’t pull off that false humility.

  Men were usually mesmerized by her looks and her body, but somehow, the resort owner made her doubt her beauty, made her question the power of it. Usually, she could tell immediately what effect she had on a man, but she wasn’t quite sure what the resort owner’s “initial impressions” of her had been.

  As she soaped her arms, she thought about something Ben had told her.

  Remember how you tricked me.

  Did Ben want her to trick the resort owner into thinking she liked him? Did he think she could do it because she’d tricked men before? That was true, but those men had been dirty old bastards, excited by even the slightest hint of interest from a young, good-looking woman. Men like that were easily fooled, that’s why Rae had a rule about “dating” much older men.

  “Young guys think they have plenty of other options, and they do,” Rae had told her. “There’s always some dumb twat who won’t make them pay for it. But these old farts don’t have as many choices, and they know it.”

  The resort owner was not an old fart, though. He was young and smoking, sizzling, steaming hot.

  As she rinsed the soap away, Spencer wondered what Ben might want her to trick the resort owner into doing. The only reason Spencer would trick a man was so she could steal from him. And the only way she would steal from a man was after she’d drugged him. If Ben wanted her to trick the resort owner, then he’d lied when he said the favor wouldn’t involve her doing anything criminal.

  Son of a bitch.

  Why the hell had she gotten involved with Ben?

  Because he’d sat next to her on a park bench and was nice to her?

  During the two months they’d spent getting to know each other, he’d listened to her rant and rave about money woes, how she’d never felt financially secure, and how the fear of never having enough to survive had started when she was a little girl.

  She hadn’t revealed the miserable details of her unfortunate upbringing to him because it was too painful and shameful to admit the parental neglect and lack of affection. And she wasn’t willing to tell anyone about the physical abuse.

  But she had hinted at dire circumstances, moments in her life she liked to forget, when there wasn’t enough money for food and shelter, the basic necessities.

  She’d shared her secret belief that because she had been raised in lack and poverty, she wasn’t good enough to deserve someone who would provide for her.

  Ben had claimed to understand her plight, but that wasn’t true. Ben didn’t care or understand.

  Disgruntled, Spencer stepped away from the overhead stream to add more body wash to the towel. As water hit the tile and steam billowed around her, she chided herself for thinking she’d made some emotional connection with Ben. Most likely, she was fascinated because of the sex.

  They’d only made love a handful of times, but he was always both fierce and tender, always demanding; he wanted so much from her, and even though she writhed and bucked and screamed, he wouldn’t relent until she was seething and clawing like some wild animal, and then he would kiss her flushed skin before moving away from her.

  He left her feeling confused and as though she’d been conquered. He left her always craving more of him and yet feeling somewhat empty. Satisfied, but emotionally drained.

  Irritated and worried, she dried off and then dropped the large white towel on the floor, leaving it for housekeeping to deal with. Heading out of the bathroom, she thought about breakfast. Should she try one of the three restaurants on the property or just call room service?

  The burner phone rang. Spencer winced. Sighing, she put on a robe, walked to the bed table, and grabbed the phone. “Hello.”


  “Good morning, sweet girl, how are you?”

  “Ready to get this favor done so I can go back home.”

  “I’m doing well this morning,” he said. “Thank you for asking.”

  Refusing to engage in pretend niceties, she asked, “Why are you calling? You want to know how Step Two is going?”

  “Before you commence with that,” Ben said. “I need you to help me with a little side venture.”

  “Side venture?” Her heart thudding, Spencer walked to the foot of the bed, turned, and walked back toward the headboard. “What does that mean?”

  “It means I have your passport so you can’t leave Belize until I allow you to go,” he said. “It means I have a video of you stealing money from me so I can have you arrested for grand larceny. It means you need to remember you owe me, sweet girl. So you shut your mouth and listen while I tell you what I need you to do.”

  Enraged, Spencer sank down on the edge of the bed, praying she wouldn’t burst into tears. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Tomorrow, I’m going to send you a package,” Ben said. “Call me when you get it, and I’ll tell you what needs to be done.”

  The line disconnected.

  Spencer sighed and massaged her temples. Tossing the burner phone on the night table, Spencer flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. She needed to take a few deep breaths and get herself together. Just concentrate on getting Step Two done. The quicker she could get the steps completed, the faster she could get back to Texas.

  Without the fear of spending the next eight to ten years in jail, she might be able to concentrate on getting her life back together. Maybe find a job. Join a church. Become a productive, contributing member of society.

  Spencer turned over on her stomach. Trying to ignore the dread growing within her, she thought about the steps Ben was forcing her to take. The steps were supposed to take her closer to freedom from Ben and his threats of blackmail. In her mind, she saw the steps like that strange painting where all the stairs appeared to lead up and down and sideways at the same time.

  It was a bizarre world in which faceless beings seemed to head back toward what they were walking away from, never making any progress, trapped in an endless cycle of moving back and forward, heading toward nothing.

  chapter 17

  Stan Ignacio, Belize

  Belizean Banyan Resort – Manager’s Office

  “Where the hell is my package?”

  Sione looked up from the financial reports he was reviewing.

  Ms. Edwards stomped into his office and over to his desk. She was frowning and looking damn good in khaki shorts, showing off slender, toned legs, and a tank top with thin straps and a dangerous plunge in the neckline, showing off very enticing cleavage.

  Behind Ms. Edwards, in more modest attire—a long skirt and matching blazer—stood his secretary, Marie, frustrated and flustered.

  “Did you hear me?” Ms. Edwards scowled. “Where is my package? The front desk called me and said you had it. Where is it?”

  “Mr. Tuiali’i, I’m sorry.” Marie shook her head, giving Ms. Edwards the evil eye. “Analee told Ms. Edwards you didn’t want to be disturbed, and she offered to get the package for her if—”

  “Analee couldn’t manage to get my reservation right,” Spencer snapped, giving Marie a stink eye of her own. “You think I trust her to deliver a package to me? She’d probably drop it and break it!”

  The women went head to head for a few moments until Sione told Marie he would handle it. After a few more distrustful glances, Marie left the office.

  Sione moved from behind the desk and went to close the door. Sighing, trying to prepare himself, he turned to Ms. Edwards, who seemed to have gotten prettier in the last few seconds.

  “What are you waiting for?” she demanded. “Give me my damn package!”

  He stared at her. Was Analee right? Was Spencer Edwards some kind of bitch-and-a-half? Did the woman have some pathological need to be abrasive and contrary? If so, how had she gotten that way? What had happened in her life to convince her she had to be so fierce? And why the hell would he care?

  Still, her willful belligerence was irritating. And yet, her sultry abrasiveness rubbed him the wrong way in all the right spots. Or maybe it rubbed him the right way in all the wrong spots. He didn’t know.

  “Why don’t you take a seat.” He grabbed one of the chairs sitting in front of the bookshelf in the corner and pulled it closer to the desk, so she could sit. “And I’ll get the package.”

  After retrieving the box from the corner, Sione brought it to the desk and sat it on top of the payroll timesheets he’d printed out. The cardboard banker’s box had been delivered that morning to the administration building with no clear indication of the intended recipient.

  His secretary Marie had signed for the package and thought it might have been something they’d ordered for one of the casitas—maybe a vase or a lamp. With no other identifying marks on the banker’s box, Sione decided to open the box. An invoice, whether itemized or hand-written, could solve the mystery. When he lifted the lid, what he found was worrisome and disturbing. Beneath the contents of the box, he’d found a crumpled piece of grease-stained paper. The message written across it left him more confused.

  “You know, if you’re going to get packages,” he said, sitting on the corner of the desk. “You should let the front desk know, and they’ll deliver them to your casita.”

  “Well, I didn’t know the box was coming.”

  “You didn’t?” Sione frowned, acutely aware that from his position, he had a tantalizing view of her breasts, heaving against the neckline, and her smooth legs, the left crossed over the right. A tantalizing view that was acutely arousing.

  “I mean, I didn’t know when it was coming,” she amended.

  A bit too quickly, he noted.

  “I wasn’t expecting it to come so soon,” she went on. “I thought it would be here later this week.”

  Sione moved back behind his desk, where any wayward evidence of his excitement, should there be any, would go unnoticed, hopefully. An erection would be irrevocably inappropriate, and he had a feeling Spencer Edwards would not be flattered.

  He took a deep breath and asked, “So, you were expecting it?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, I was expecting the box, but it’s not something I really wanted,” she said, again with the quick, breathless tone.

  “Why not?” he asked, thinking of the contents, wondering why Ms. Edwards didn’t want what she had been expecting.

  “You wouldn’t understand.” Standing, she grabbed the box by the cut-out handles, and picked it up.

  Again, thinking of the contents, Sione figured he probably wouldn’t understand, so he decided not to push the issue and instead asked, “You need help taking the box back to your casita?”

  “No, I think I can manage to—wait a minute,” she said. “Are you sure this box is for me?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Why?”

  “There’s no address label on it.”

  “Well, the note said, ‘Please deliver to Spencer Edwards.’”

  She glared at him. “What note?”

  “The, uh …” He stopped, struggling to think of a lie, and then blurted out, “The note that was on the bottom of the box.”

  “There was a note on the bottom of the box?” She raised the box to peek beneath it.

  “It wasn’t a shipping label,” he said. “It was just a piece of paper taped to the bottom of the box.”

  She stared at him for a moment and then said, “Are you sure you didn’t open this box?”

  “I didn’t open the box.”

  “You better not have,” she said.

  “Ms. Edwards, I want you to know—” Sione stopped, his train of thought lost as he stared at her.

  He’d seen beautiful women before, some even prettier than Ms. Edwards, but something about her grabbed him by th
e throat and shook him. And not in a good way. But not in a bad way either.

  “You want me to know what?” she asked, and he would have bet money that any second, her nipples would escape the confines of her tank.

  “The privacy of my guests is extremely important to me,” he assured her, or tried to, but he had the feeling she wasn’t in the mood to be reassured. “I would never intentionally, or accidentally, go through your box without your permission.”

  Rolling her eyes, she pivoted and walked toward the door, which Sione absolutely enjoyed watching her do. Crossing the threshold, she looked over her shoulder, gave him a sassy, mischievous gaze, and then she was gone.

  chapter 18

  San Ignacio, Belize

  Belizean Banyan Resort - Honeymoon Casita

  Back at her casita, Spencer put the banker’s box on the kitchen table and then went to the bedroom to take off the shorts that were way too short and the tank top that barely contained her breasts.

  Changing into a University of Houston T-shirt and yoga pants, she thought about the encounter with the resort owner, wondering if she had blown her chance to get close to him. Their meeting this afternoon hadn’t been part of her grand scheme.

  When the front desk called about the package, she had to scramble to come up with a game plan, knowing she couldn’t miss the opportunity to see him; hence, the slutty clothes.

  Letting it all hang out for the resort owner’s viewing pleasure irritated her, but she’d had to start laying the groundwork for Step Two, which meant she had to first figure out if he was even attracted to her. If he had a fetish for redheads or skinny girls with flat asses, she would be finished before she started.

  Had the abundance of cleavage and the hourglass curves turned him on or not? Spencer wasn’t sure. It was too soon to tell. His hazel gaze was hypnotic but hard to fathom.

  She thought she might have caught him looking at her boobs, but she wouldn’t swear to that, even though she’d had them on permanent display and had made an effort to lean forward provocatively every chance she could.