Bad Boys and Billionaires (The Naughty List Bundles)

by Synthia St. Claire

  “Hey! These things are worth a fortune around here. I get paid for the anti-venin and then the government pays me again just for getting rid of the little buggers. No way am I-“

  The men occupying the jeep opened fire again, sending lead their way, which smacked into the metal of the destroyed car again or landed in the dirt, sending up small plumes of earth. When the first bullet punched a hole all the way through to their side, Marie darted down the hill with Ethan closely behind her, both of them running as fast as their legs could go.

  On the ridge above them, the men had left their vehicles and were beginning to give chase on foot. At the front, wearing his stark-white suit and holding a revolver, was Marco.

  “They’re not stopping, Ethan. Which way?” Marie asked through a few heavy breaths.

  “Over here,” he answered, feeling uncertain, but led them anyway out of the small valley between the hills and into an area that looked like a gorge, with steep cliffs thirty feet up on both sides, which branched off in two different directions. “Maybe this will slow them down if they can’t figure out which way we went. Come on.”

  They took the path that led to the right, running over smooth cobblestones that made up the floor of a trickling stream of rainwater runoff from the mountain. Each footstep was a loud splash that couldn’t be avoided and the slippery surface was not easy to move around on, and as they moved farther in, the stream became larger and deeper.

  Around an embankment of trees along the growing stream they went, and both stopped in their tracks. In front of them was a dead-end. The walls of the gorge had closed up around them. At the top, a constant waterfall poured over into a small, murky pool at the bottom.

  Marie looked up at it in shock. “It’s a dead end! How are we supposed to get past that?”

  “We have to run back! Hurry!”

  As they returned past the trees on the embankment that poked out into the stream, they could see Marco and his men at the pass. Ethan and Marie crouched behind the woody cover and watched, waiting.

  “Go the other way!” Marie thought, hoping as hard as she could. Her heart sunk when one of the men squatted, took a closer look at the ground, and pointed in their direction.

  Ethan and Marie moved away carefully and ran back to the high cliff and the waterfall. The men would be on them any moment.

  “We’re going to have to climb our way out, Marie,” Ethan observed. “It’s the only way.”

  Marie couldn’t see how they’d do it, but it was their only hope of escape. Pure adrenalin drove her hands up to the sharp corners of rocks and sturdy tree roots that peeked out of the side of the cliff. She pulled herself up and dug into the soft soil with her boots as best she could.

  “Almost…there,” Ethan said with a grunt and reached the top. His hands found the flat edge and blindly felt around, looking for something to grip onto, and found it. With one last jerk forward, he ascended over the top.

  Marie was right behind him, only a few feet away from reaching the top herself, when one of the roots she was clinging to gave way and broke away from the side of the cliff. She yelped and felt herself falling backwards.

  “Marie!” Ethan cried, and lunged for the edge. His hands caught her arm at the last moment, preventing her from falling to her death. “Hold on!”

  “The map!” Marie’s mind screamed, and the sudden jarring rescue caused the bag containing the map to slide off her shoulder and down her other arm, past her wrist, caught by a thread between her outstretched fingers.

  As she was hanging there, Ethan on one end preventing her untimely and rapid descent to the ground, and the bag on the other end dangling between her fingers, the sound of clapping resounded off the cliff walls and up to them. Marie turned and looked down. Below was a smiling Marco and several armed soldiers, who had their rifles pointed up at her.

  His applause ceased and Marco took a step forward. “Miss Brisbee, I presume. We thought we might find you hanging out around here.” Marco abruptly cackled at his attempt at humor, joined by some of the men. “I am Marco Gustez. Your friend Carol told me to expect you.”

  “So, this is the bastard that killed her,” Marie thought with a flash of anger.

  “I will make you a deal, Marie Brisbee,” Marco continued, “I will consider not shooting you and your new friend if you toss the map down to us.” He pulled up his sleeve and revealed a shiny, expensive gold wrist watch. “You have…mmmm, three seconds to decide.”

  The bag twisted in the air, inches away from falling all by itself. All she had to do was let go. “If this is what he wants, maybe I should just give it to him,” Marie thought. She looked up at Ethan and questioned him with her eyes.

  “One,” Marco counted down. The men racked their rifles and took aim.

  Marie felt Ethan’s fingers slip around her arm. He couldn’t hold on much longer.

  “Two.”

  Could she really just drop it so easily? She knew were the treasure was, or at least, she knew the general area. “Carol died for this,” she thought. “There must be a reason why it’s so important. I’m not going to let her death be for nothing.” Giving it up didn’t seem to be much of an option, either.

  “Three.”

  Marco held his hand in the air, ready to give the command. He didn’t need the woman alive, really. There were others that could help him decipher the map.

  “Goodbye, Miss Brisbee,” Marco called out and was about to drop his hand and give the signal, when Ethan shouted, “Wait! Don’t shoot! We’ll give you the map!”

  Marie glared at him in disbelief. “If he really thinks I’m going to just-“ her train of thought began, but Ethan gave her with a sly smile.

  “A smart choice. Please, don’t keep us waiting any longer,” Marco called up.

  Ethan struggled to unhook the white sack from his belt while still holding onto Marie. Finally successful, he held it over the edge, ready to send it down.

  “Give us your word you won’t attack,” Ethan strained out.

  Marco waved his hand at the men aiming their rifles and they lowered them. “You have it, senor. Now, please, the bag.”

  “You asked for it,” Ethan muttered, and managed to undo the string securing the sack closed. He flung the sack out into the air and it landed with a heavy thud in the water between Marco and his men.

  “Obrigado! Thank you!” Marco said pleasantly. He pointed his finger up at the Marie and Ethan and gave the order in a cold, calculating tone. “Kill them.”

  Just as the men took aim again and were about to fire, the open end of the bag fluttered and several very pissed off, frighteningly agile Black Cobras came streaming out. The men let loose a series of high pitched screams at the sight of them and scrambled wildly in every direction. Even Marco was caught completely off-guard and danced backwards as the snakes coiled and struck or fled across the water between his legs.

  With all of his might, Ethan pulled, dragging Marie up and over the top of the gorge. By the time the soldiers down below regained their senses, the two of them had already disappeared into the forest.

  Chapter Seven

  Marie’s calves burned and her entire body felt like it was made of rubber. She drew in huge gasping breaths as she flew across the uneven forest floor, dodging thorny vines and wide bunches of foliage. Unable to go any further, she went down to one knee and held up her hand.

  “Ethan…stop,” she barely managed to croak. “I gotta…take a break…catch my breath.”

  He turned around and went to her, willing to go on if he had to, but glad for the respite. In all his years on the planet, Ethan didn’t think he’d ever run as fast or as hard before. The truth was, he had just about broken down as well.

  “Thank god,” he sputtered, and crashed down onto his bottom. He took a moment to remove his stained fedora and wiped the trickling beads of sweat from his brow. “I don’t think I could have taken another step.” Regaining himself, Ethan looked around the jungle, hopeful for a sign that they were some
where he could recognize. To his dismay, there was nothing but more tangled masses of underbrush and green.

  “Why don’t you use that map and tell us where the heck we are?” he asked. “I didn’t think about it earlier, but it might give us at least a general direction to get out of here.”

  Marie removed the bag from her shoulder and pulled out the map. She traced a finger along the coast near the village of Santa Catarina and into the mainland. There, only a few miles in, was a small drawing that depicted the waterfall they had surmounted earlier.

  “There, that’s the waterfall, I think,” she guessed. Ethan moved closer and looked over her shoulder. A little to the east, near the middle of the island, there was a pictogram of a big house and the scrawled word, “Tras-Os-Montes.”

  “Behind The Mountains,” Ethan translated. “It’s a good-sized village. I’ve dropped off tons of tourists there since I started driving a cab. It’s where a lot of people visiting the Obo National Park like to get started.”

  “So, we’re in some kind of park? A conservation area?”

  “Yeah. It’s protected wildlife land. Loads of biologists and eco-tourist types come here every year to study the plants and animals.”

  “It looks like there might be something not far ahead, if we didn’t already pass it. I can’t really make out the drawing, but it could be a village.”

  Ethan thumbed the bristly hairs on his chin. “It’s worth a try.” He looked up at the sky. Hours had ticked away while they had been wandering through the jungle and the sun was beginning to vanish over the land. “We’d better get a move on.”

  After only a few minute’s walk, they came upon a lightly treaded footpath. When the crunching of the leaves under their feet gave way to the soft plod of shoes against a dirt trail, the sound of a guitar and drums came echoing towards them. The music had an almost Cuban swing to it, and it flowed out into the forest in a happy, energetic melody. The light of the day had receded and the softly flickering fires from the village beseeched them.

  When the locals spotted an exhausted white woman in dirty, wet clothing and a man looking equally as tattered entering the remote village from the jungle, the music halted and everyone turned their heads towards them.

  “Uh, hi,” Ethan said and gave a little wave. “Apenas passando por. Just passing through.”

  The music started up again and most of the people carried on as if nothing had happened. They seemed to be having some sort of celebration; many folks were dancing around a large bonfire and everyone had on bright, festive colored garments.

  “Ola!” said a man, who waved to them from the other side of the bonfire. Ethan grabbed hold of Marie’s arm, ready to run again in case it was Marco or one of his lackeys, but relaxed when he saw the man had on a white and blue uniform and wore a shiny brass star on his chest pocket. The man stepped forward, looked at them awkwardly, and shook their hands.

  “I’m Francisco Alvarez, São Tomè police force. Are you Americanos?” the man asked and looked at them expectantly. Ethan and Marie nodded. “Looks like you two spent some time in the jungle, eh? Dios Mio. You look like you lost the trail to me.”

  “Oh man, are we glad to see you,” Ethan remarked. “Some asshole named Marco has been chasing us since we left Santa Catarina.”

  Francisco quickly placed his hand on the pistol that was secured in his holster. “Marco?!” the man sputtered. “Marco Gustez?”

  “That’s what he said his name was,” Ethan offered. “Dark-skinned guy, white suit and hat, likes moonlight walks and shooting at people. You know him?”

  Francisco adopted an angry expression. His thin mustache arched down over his lips as he frowned. “We’ve been after him for a few days. He runs drugs around the island, gets them from mainland Africa and sells here. This guy, he’s a very bad guy.”

  “Tell us about it,” Ethan agreed. “Marco tried to light us up in Santa Catarina and again out there in the middle of the jungle. We’re lucky we got away.”

  “So, that was you, huh?” Francisco said with an impressed huff. “We got the reports of a shooting over there last night, but the streets were empty by the time we arrived. No one wanted to tell us anything, but we figured it was Marco and his band of ‘Girias.’”

  Maria looked confused, so Ethan translated. “Sleazeballs…basically.”

  “That giria killed my friend, Carol Blanch,” Marie said. “She was staying in Santa Catarina.”

  “I’m very sorry,” Francisco said to her sadly. “We’ve been doubling our efforts to catch him since we discovered the body a few days ago, so we already knew about your friend. Unfortunately, there are not many of us and we are spread thin. There are just not enough policia to go around.”

  There was a moment of silence in the conversation and the music began to pick up the pace. Drums banged loudly and a group of people cheered the men playing the instruments on. It was hard for Marie to imagine such happiness when Marco could be lurking about anywhere.

  “Listen, I will radio in your report to command in São Tomè City. They will send some additional units this way. Should be here in the next day or two. Until then, you should remain in the village. It’s safe here,” Francisco said. “As you can see, we are having a big celebracao, in honor of Armed Forces Day. You are very welcome to stay and enjoy the festivities.”

  The delightful scent of roasting meat hit Marie and Ethan and both of them nearly doubled over as their stomachs grumbled. So, they decided to do as Francisco requested, no matter how hesitant they were to break away from their quest for The Blue Star.

  “Shall we?” Ethan said, and offered his elbow to Marie.

  She took hold to him and pointed across the dirt road towards a large, well-lit house. Parked in front was a dark blue SUV with the word, “Policia” emblazoned across it in reflective white letters.

  Marie asked, “I’m guessing that house is where Francisco is staying. Do you think they rent rooms?”

  Thankfully, they did. The old house was a remnant of the once-booming sugar cane industry, and had been a plantation owner’s home for nearly a hundred years. Since natural disasters and political unrest struck the area nearly a decade ago, it had been converted into a hostel of sorts, renting out available rooms to the few tourists and travelers that made their way through the park.

  The room they secured was fairly simple, but what it lacked in extravagance, it made up for in cozy, rustic charm. A double bed was positioned in the center of the room and the wind breezed in through unusual slot-like windows on the wall behind it. Only the cooling night air and the rhythmic sounds of the celebration could enter through them.

  Ethan gleefully hopped onto the bed and tossed his hands behind his head. He gave Marie a come-hither look and tipped his hat. “What brings you to this corner of São Tomè, little lady?” he asked, playfully.

  As alluring as the idea was to climb on top of him, Marie felt icky and her stomach hadn’t stopped growling since they blew into town. “Look, mister sexy, the first thing I need is a hot shower and some food. I haven’t eaten since my flight left Africa and I’m a mess.” Still, she couldn’t resist walking over and engaging him in a long, sultry kiss.

  “Mmmm,” Ethan murmured as the kiss broke. “How about this; We take that hot shower together and then whatever happens…happens.”

  Marie’s belly tightened with the erotic thought of it. The only thing on the menu tonight might be him.

  The shower rained down on Marie’s skin, soothing her to the core with each warm drop. Ethan had found the soap and put it to good use; lathering up thick bubbles in his hands and spreading it across every inch of her body. The slick sensation was euphoric and she moaned out at his touch.

  He explored sensually over her pink nipples, which were puckered and hardened in excitement, giving each breast a delicate squeeze as he went. His firm abdomen pressed against her back along with his manhood, which rubbed at the supple flesh of her posterior.

  “I like it when you to
uch me like that,” Marie whispered over the sound of the water.

  Ethan’s mouth went to her neck, raising the little hairs there with a tingle. It was like a warm circle that sucked at her skin, each time arousing her more and more. She turned to face him and their lips came together, mixing with the water that drained down, wet and hot. Ethan’s hands slid around to her back, kneading the tired muscles there before caressing down to her bum. There, he continued his ministrations, driving Marie into a wanton fever-pitch of desire.

  “I’m all clean,” Marie said softly and pumped a soapy fist down the length of his shaft. Ethan responded by groaning out and digging his fingernails lightly into her backside. “Are you going to make me dirty again?”

  She could hardly believe the words coming out of her mouth. What kind of invisible, tantalizing corruption had this strangely intoxicating man cast over her?

  It didn’t matter. Questioning it would accomplish nothing. Accepting it felt so much better.

  Ethan nodded and rinsed himself before turning off the shower. They retreated to the next room, where he laid her across the middle of the bed. His gentle kisses began all over again at her neck but quickly descended down her breasts and belly, finally stopping at her waiting entrance. Marie ruffled her fingers through his coffee-colored hair and gasped as his tongue brushed against her folds.

  The feeling of his mouth on her was driving Marie over the edge; she bucked her hips and tried to pull him towards her as the event horizon of her climax bubbled to the surface. Her legs spread widely of their own freewill, beyond any conscious thought, and she brought her hands to her breasts as the electric tingle boiled over.

  She felt breathless and weak as the cascade washed through her, helpless but eager for more as Ethan rolled her onto her side and lifted her bottom. His hands moved to her waist and his stiff member pushed past her slick folds easily, stoking the waning arousal once again.

  “Oh, Ethan,” she whispered into her hands, which were folded over on the bed in front of her. “That’s…just…right. Right there.”