by Karen Anders
Jammer stood on the balcony overlooking the Pacific Ocean. The water was a glittering aquamarine. The warm breeze brought with it the smell of the ocean, and he breathed deep.
With quick flicks of his wrist, he toyed with a butterfly switchblade, flipping the razor-thin blades in and out of the handle. The scissoring sound a soft snick.
He could see a woman on the beach with a small girl, digging in the sand. The woman threw her head back and laughed at something the child said and his heart clutched in his chest. Grabbing up the child, the woman hugged her until the child squirmed.
For a fleeting moment, Jammer wondered what it would be like to have that. Someone who gave a damn. Her name, her presence was always there at the edge of his mind. Gina.
Had it only been two weeks ago that he’d last seen Gina lying in the hospital after a rival arms dealer with a personal beef had tried to kill her by running her over? He’d met her in Paris about a month ago. It was still hard to believe that the delicate woman had put together a major buy with what had been a lethal arms dealer.
Because of her accident, the deal they had planned had been finished by her twin sister and the sister looked so much like Gina, she had almost duped him. But he knew Gina on such a deep level that a double couldn’t fool him.
He’d fallen way too fast and way too hard for Gina and now he doubted he’d ever get her out of his heart or his head. He let her go for the moment and focused on his purpose.
He was here to capture a woman, a DEA agent, and use the knowledge she possessed to get what he needed to complete this job. That’s what he’d told Eduardo.
The drug lord had been livid when the woman had escaped. He’d raged around his compound, lashing out at anyone who even uttered a word.
Fuentes was behind him, the beauty of the ocean and Hawaii lost on him. He paced the hotel room like a caged animal waiting for his pound of flesh.
Jammer was finally where he wanted to be, but the woman had upset his very carefully placed apple cart. Now Eduardo wouldn’t rest until he had her back. No one, absolutely no one escaped from him, least of all a DEA agent. The fact that Rio Marshall was a woman made it all the more unacceptable to Eduardo.
Fucking bastard was jeopardizing a thirty-million-dollar deal because of his pride.
Idiot.
Eduardo had more things to worry about than one lone woman, yet that’s what the man was focusing on. To expand their drug-trafficking businesses, drug lords often made deals with other factions. Colombia was filled with paramilitary organizations fighting for their own ideals against the government. The organizations quickly realized that selling drugs was an excellent way to fund their wars, which made drug lords the partner of choice.
Eduardo agreed to find a gunrunner who could provide the troops of the Defensores de la Libertad the weapons they needed and in turn the Libertad would protect Fuentes’s interests—his laboratories, his members and associates and his trafficking routes. Namely the Gulf of Urabá, through which hundreds of millions of dollars’ worth of contraband—arms and drugs in particular—entered and left Colombia each year. Fuentes had found the Ghost, or his associate, anyway—Jammer.
The deal Jammer was putting together would take him where he wanted to go in Fuentes’s organization. A deal that included huge shipments of high-powered machine guns, fragmentation grenades and rocket-propelled grenade launchers, which would cement the relationship between Fuentes and the Libertad.
It had come as a shock to him that he’d recognized the woman the moment he saw her. Shane McMasters, a name out of his past, one that should stay buried in his memory, rose like a specter. He’d been a DEA agent who’d gotten way to close to Eduardo and had paid by losing his life.
Rio Marshall was his stepsister, and Jammer had every intention of getting her out of the mess she was in. He owed it to the man who had been Shane McMasters. He didn’t know what she was doing in the jungle, but she’d escaped Fuentes, made him look weak and ineffectual. When Jammer insinuated that Eduardo’s ranks had been breached, it made the drug lord even more paranoid than he was already.
“Hijo de puta!” Fuentes yelled into the cell. His rapid-fire Spanish wasn’t lost on Jammer. The woman had escaped somewhere in the Ko’olau Forest Preserve along with the FBI agent who was protecting her.
Jammer turned as a red-faced Fuentes threw the BlackBerry across the room, where it exploded against the wall and left a discernible dent.
The ruthless, untouchable drug lord had tantrums like a little girl.
His dark eyes studied Jammer and he sneered. “They lost the whore and her bodyguard. I’m going to rip their hearts out. Six men against one man and woman? These are the elite guards they send me?”
“Calm down, Eduardo. There’s no way for them to escape from Maui. We’ve got men stationed at all the airports and you’ve taken care of local law enforcement. There’s nowhere for them to go. Eventually, they’re going to emerge. When they do, we’ll have them. If they do escape, you have your own personal rat who can provide you with every move they make. So, there’s no need to panic.”
A smile spread across Eduardo’s face. “Sí, I pay him well for information. He’s been very valuable.” He stepped up to the balcony, but never even glanced at the majestic ocean. “This woman is like a gato. She has nine lives.”
“Well, in this case, the cat got too curious. You know what they say about cats and curiosity.”
“You are sure this woman came to my compound to consort with one of my people—a traitor to my organization?” Eduardo asked.
“I’m sure. A DEA agent shows up at your secret compound? What else could it mean? At the very least, I don’t think we should kill her until we’ve had a chance to find out. With all the plans that are in place, it would be risky.”
“The Ghost agrees with this strategy?”
“He was the one who suggested it.”
Eduardo nodded and adjusted his Armani suit. “Then we find her.”
“And the FBI agent?” Jammer asked.
“He’s expendable. Agreed?”
Jammer shrugged. He couldn’t save everyone. “Agreed.”
RIO WOKE TO THE WARMTH of Max wrapped around her. Her hand on his chest, her head tucked against his shoulder. She’d dreamed of Shane and a day they had at the beach, but the dream had gotten dark and very scary, then Shane had disappeared. It was odd because she’d had the same type of dream on the plane.
Snuggling against Max, she let the images go. It’d been a long time since she’d woken up in a man’s arms, a man she was getting way too accustomed to. She lay still, listening to his breathing, and she heard a twig snap. Carefully she unwound from Max and searched the forest. She reached into the pack and pulled out one of the Glocks. She checked the clip and rose, listening intently.
The waterfall behind her made a soft swishing noise that obscured her hearing, so she moved cautiously away from the makeshift camp.
Peering out into the gloom, she could see no movement whatsoever. The hair on the back of her neck bristled. Turning, she ran to where she’d left Max and said softly in his ear, “We’ve got company.”
Max came awake instantly, one of the Glocks in his fist.
“Then let’s give them a proper welcome.”
“No,” she murmured. “I don’t think they know we’re here. Let’s just slip away.”
Max rose and grabbed the pack out of her hands. “I’ll carry it. You locked and loaded?”
“Yes,” she said, relinquishing the pack not altogether voluntarily.
It felt strange to admit to herself she was giving up a little of her control. Obviously, if she wanted the pack, he would give it to her. But she found it seemed right to share the burden with him.
They started off pushing between the trees, the ground vegetation dense and dripping with twilight dew.
Suddenly, shadows were all around them and Max pulled her down to the thick vegetation. A light ghosted over them.
They bu
rrowed deeper into the ground cover, sweat beading on her forehead and adrenaline shooting into her system.
“Thorough bastards.” His voice was soft in her ear, his breath sending delicious tremors down Rio’s spine.
She tipped her head, his lips brushing her ear. “Great, just what we need. Conscientious killers.”
“All this to protect the Ghost’s identity?”
She squirmed inside knowing the men hunting them weren’t the Ghost’s. But he was just as involved. Eduardo Fuentes and what could have been the Ghost’s henchman were getting pretty chummy in his compound. She again kept quiet, but it cost her. Max had a right to know what he was up against. But chances were they would get off Maui and there wouldn’t be a reason she’d have to tell him she’d lied and was undercover to keep him occupied.
She tensed and put her hand on Max’s shoulder. Shortly after that, she heard the footsteps. A bright light swept back and forth over the forest. It was so dense where she and Max hid that the light was only a faint glow. The men neared and Rio held her breath.
The situation felt familiar to her, almost natural. She’d spent so much of her time as a DEA agent traversing dangerous parts of forests and jungles. It was as if she’d been born in the trees.
“How do you do that?” he whispered so close to her ear, his warm breath tickled her skin.
“Experience,” she whispered back. “I can almost sense them.”
She closed her eyes, and smelled the musty earth tossed up with each careful step, just as she could feel Max’s heart pounding where her hand rested on his back. In her hand she held her weapon.
The men shone the light at their feet, took a few steps, and then swept the area high and low. They couldn’t do both. On the forest floor there wasn’t a shred of moonlight, and it was uneven and crisscrossed with exposed roots. It was one advantage. Rio could see boots now, hear the shift of the dirt and pebbles beneath them. They shuffled, the movement of unsure steps.
Rio slipped her finger over the trigger. Five against two weren’t good odds. A firefight would bring more to Fuentes’s personal army.
And that was why she’d been in Colombia. It had been her job to find out what deal was going down with the Defensores de la Libertad. She’d gotten the dirt on Fuentes and was making her way back to home base when she’d stumbled across his compound. Then the monkey. Reflexively, she looked up into the trees.
Then a radio crackled and she heard a man respond quickly in Spanish. No, we haven’t located them. It’s like they vanished. There was irritation in the caller’s voice, but with the distortion, recognition was impossible. Remember, I want her alive. Kill the man, but bring me the woman.
She felt Max stiffen at her side and her stomach lurched into her throat. It was her turn to tense, but Max slipped his hand over the one that held the Glock.
The radio crackled again and this time the man’s voice was angry. Call off the search for tonight. We will begin again at dawn.
Rio didn’t expect them to give up. It was just as she suspected. They wanted her alive and they had every intention of killing Max. She couldn’t let that happen.
The men paused to discuss the orders and seemed glad of it. Rio breathed a sigh of relief as they melted back into the forest, moving more rapidly away from them.
There was only one thing for her to do and, for a moment, her throat closed. Then her resolve hardened.
She’d have to leave Max.
MAX HAD TO ADMIT TO himself, it was one thing to think people were out gunning for you, but it was another thing to hear it said so blatantly.
It only served to make him madder than hell.
They rose and Max looked toward the mountaintop in the far distance, its highest peak shrouded in mist and glowing in the crescent moonlight.
“Get the map out and let me have it,” he said.
Rio complied and Max unfolded it. Crouching down, he used a small penlight to see it. “Fuentes is going to expect us to make for Hana. I say we head toward Makawao. It’s a safer bet. We’re about halfway between them, so it’s a ten-mile trek either way. He’ll probably have everything locked down in Hana and it’s a bigger risk for us to go there.”
Rio nodded, took the map and folded it, stowing it in the pack.
“Now all we have to do is get our bearings.” He identified the North Star and noted from the map that Makawao was situated to the north of the island.
“Don’t hurt yourself there, Galileo. Use my GPS,” she said.
He turned to find her holding out the device. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a GPS?”
She reached up and ran her thumb between his eyes. “I love the way this furrows when you’re being serious.”
He chuckled. “Do you?”
“Yup,” she replied, “and you didn’t ask.”
He smiled and she smiled back. The air popped with their chemistry. “You’re getting back at me for all those Mary Poppins cracks, aren’t you?”
“Payback’s a bitch.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand. “Stop while you’re ahead. That’s if you ever want to see me in lace and a really big handgun again.”
“Been there, done that. Could we go for an assault rifle and fishnet?”
“You’re pushing it, Carpenter.”
“Yeah, I know.” He met her gaze squarely. “So what about the fishnet?”
Max’s smile was slow and she joined him. She laughed and pushed at his chest. They walked for another half an hour before Max shone the light long enough to see his surroundings. “We need to climb.”
“I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to that,” Rio said dryly.
His legs felt the burn from the strain, and when he stopped she collapsed against a tree.
“We’ll rest here until sunup.” With his back to the twisted roots of a tree, Max settled down to the ground and patted the space beside him.
“What a relief.” She dropped next to him, snuggling up to him and using his chest for a pillow. “Wake me if you need help kicking ass.”
She exhaled long and low, and within seconds she was asleep, her hand on his chest. Max disengaged her Glock from her relaxed grip. He stretched his legs out and laid his own weapon at his side, keeping his gaze on the nearest path several yards ahead. He snuggled her more comfortably. It felt good, her compact body resting against his. It had been a while. Max wasn’t proactive when it came to relationships. After a succession of dates, he adopted the lone-wolf way of life until fate threw him a bone. It was as much his fault as his job’s. Most women couldn’t handle the secrecy and the hours, nor understand his real purpose.
Rio’s lax hand drifted to his stomach and his muscles immediately contracted. He gently shifted her hand away from ground zero and tried not to remember what it was like to have her touch him. He wondered how long he’d last without tasting her again.
He wondered about her past. She snuggled closer and he thought two hours to sunrise. He’d be lucky if he made it. At least the hard-on she gave him would keep him paying attention.
He had to trust her, but not completely. People did weird things when they were threatened. Yet he had every reason to believe her about the Ghost. The threat was quite real.
“Your brow is furrowing. You’re thinking too hard again,” she said, and it startled him.
He tipped his head to look at her. She never opened her eyes. “How do you know that?”
“I can tell. What is it?”
“Honestly?”
“No, lie to me.” Her tone amused him. “Of course honestly.”
“I was wondering about your stepbrother,” he said.
“How do you know about that?”
“Your file.” His tone almost sounded apologetic.
“His name was Shane McMasters. He was a DEA agent killed in the line of duty. He was a very good man, liked the Bears, sharp cheddar cheese and the Rolling Stones. I buried him three years ago.”
“I’m sor
ry.”
“So am I,” she said softly.
“Get some sleep, Rio.”
MAX HEARD A SUCCESSION of thunks and he started awake. The sun was just peeking over the horizon casting a pink glow, but to Max’s sleep-gritted eyes, it stabbed like a penetrating spotlight. His body protested when he shifted and opened his eyes.
Rio was standing in the glade and she was throwing knives into a tree, one after the other with a blinding speed that left him a bit breathless.
“Okay, I changed my mind. Fishnet and throwing knives.”
“You are pathetic,” she said, and walked over to him, slipping the knives into a sheath she had concealed beneath her shirt.
“Did you get some sleep?”
“Yes, but it was like lying on a rock. You are one ripped guy.”
“I thought you liked it hard?”
She tipped her head, smiling. “What are you saying? A hard man is good to find?”
“Isn’t he?” He rose and stretched.
She walked up to him and laughed. Placing her hand on his chest, she slowly moved upward to the back of his neck, her fingers pushing into his hair as she pulled him down.
Max went willingly, and when his mouth touched hers, it was all he could do not to devour her whole. She was warm, her mouth soft and playful, as she teasingly took her time, refusing to let him rush it. He loved how Rio was so patient, when she had been so impatient before.
You’re falling for her, he thought, and while internal warnings were going off inside his brain, the sudden dark need for her smothered him as he kissed her back. Her response knocked him sideways, and when he ran his hand down her spine and pulled her tighter, he knew he had to stop this before he lost control. With Rio, losing control was getting easier by the hour.
Max drew back, ran his fingers across her lips and heard her breath rushing in her lungs.
“Damn those bad guys,” she said, then grasped his hand to look pointedly at the gun he was holding.
“You’re a vigilant guy.”
“I’m supposed to be protecting you.”
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Max. I’m aware of our situation.”
