Chapter 10
At the sound of a low wolf whistle, Viviana turned and met the smiling gaze of Marcus the bartender. Relieved to see a friendly face, she returned his grin with one of her own. He shook his head and put his hands up in disbelief.
“I don’t know how you do it, Miss Nilsson, but somehow you accomplish the impossible.”
Viviana pretended ignorance and said with a coquettish smile, “And what might that be, Marcus?”
“Every time I see you, you are more beautiful than the time before. A seeming impossibility.” Staring at the floor-length, virtually see-through black lace dress with strategically placed patches of lace, he continued before she could thank him. “But tonight, Miss Nilsson, you have outdone yourself. Truly, miss, that may be the most beautifully erotic dress I have ever seen.”
“You must admit, Marcus, that while the dress is truly extraordinary, what makes it remarkable is the woman who dares to wear it.”
Viviana sucked in a shallow breath, stunned that the sound of his voice alone made her legs shake. Leaning against the edge of the bar to steady herself, Viviana forced herself to meet his gaze. She almost wished she hadn’t. It was impossible to believe that the much-too-handsome man, who was studying her through narrowed eyes sparkling with amusement, was the man who had left her in a state of rapture mere hours before. Knowing that her cheeks were flaming, she did her best to acknowledge him, but the words stuck in her throat.
He moved toward her and reached for her elbow. Pulling her next to him, he leaned down and brushed his lips across her cheek. If he had stroked a live electrical wire over her bare skin, the touch wouldn’t have been more shocking. At her start, his smile widened to a wicked grin. Speaking softly, he murmured, “My, my, Maja. You seem a little agitated. I hope it isn’t something I did.”
At his clear amusement, Viviana managed to regain what composure she had. Assuming an amused smile that she hoped didn’t look as strained as it felt, she shrugged and said nonchalantly, “Why, Mr. Dubois, what could you possibly have done to agitate me?”
Not releasing her arm, his eyes darkened as though a cloud had passed over a stormy green sea. Tugging her closer to him, he said in a cool voice, “I can think of about twenty things, depending on which part of your body I’m intent on agitating.” His grin surfaced, lightening his remarkable eyes. “Would you like me to name them—the body parts, that is?”
Viviana’s voice strangled in her throat, but she managed the semblance of a laugh. “No, please, Mr. Dubois, don’t do that. I’m not sure the rest of the guests would understand.”
Following her gaze across the milling crowd, Dubois acknowledged Francesca Ortiz’s frowning glare with a pleasant nod. Turning back to Viviana, he squeezed her hand and agreed. “I see your point, Miss Nilsson. It would appear that our hostess is none too pleased at the sight of us together. Indeed, she looks as though she smells an unusually bad cheese.” At Viviana’s soft laugh, he smiled and said as though they were discussing the weather, “I believe the last time you laughed like that, Maja, was when I insisted that you spread your legs even wider so I could properly examine your beautiful pussy and sample the luscious dew hovering on your intimate lips.”
At Viviana’s horrified gasp, Dubois leaned in and whispered, “I don’t know which is more sensual, Maja: the musky fragrance of your erotic juices or its exotic taste. Both drove me out of my fucking mind.” At her strangled chortle, Dubois pinched her cheek and winked at her. “Forgive me, my dear, it’s clear our hostess needs attending to.”
Knowing that her cheeks had to be fiery red, Viviana could only pray that the moisture she felt between her legs wasn’t obvious to anyone but her or the grinning man striding across the room. Turning back to the bar, she met Marcus’s knowing gaze. Without her asking, he yanked out a glass and poured a double shot of Compass Box. Handing her the glass, he said with a sly smile, “You look like you could use a little Hedonism, Miss Nilsson.”
Lifting the glass to her lips, Viviana tossed it back, draining the glass. Managing not to choke on the fiery liquid, she nodded to the surprised bartender and said with as saucy a grin as she could manage, “You might say that, Marcus. Thanks for noticing. And thank you for the booze.”
A half hour later, Viviana excused herself from the knot of men who surrounded her and went out to the patio. She desperately needed to reach Lieutenant Jenkins. She had now made four unanswered calls to him and was coming close to calling her captain to confess that they just might have a problem. When she returned to the cocktail party, she saw the guests moving into the dining room. Her hope that she could find a quiet place at an insignificant table in the back of the room was dashed when Felix Garcia approached her. “The queen bee insists that you sit at the head table. Don’t ask me why, sugar, except that you seem to have put a giant-sized burr under our esteemed hostess’s saddle.” At Viviana’s frown, Felix added in a low voice, “Heads up, troublemaker. Seems that Mr. Flores has been allowed back into polite company. He’s also sitting at the head table. Watch your ass, sweetheart.”
Working her way through the crowded tables, Viviana tried to come to grips with the fact that not only would she be sitting at the same table as the woman who despised her but also with the hideous the man who’d thrown a terrified young woman to a herd of killer sharks. She didn’t know if she could have forced herself to sit by the despicable man if Dubois weren’t there. With a silent snort, Viviana reminded herself that the man she was depending on for support was likely the most dangerous man at the table. In addition to being the only man in her life who had not just invaded her body but also captured her heart.
Dubois’s solemn expression confirmed the fire ants that had taken up residence in the pit of her stomach were there for a reason. As if a glaring Francesca and glowering Martinez Flores weren’t worrying enough, Viviana recognized the small man sitting between Dubois and Francesca. From the DEA files she’d studied, she knew that the diminutive man with the gleaming black eyes was none other than Carlos Muñoz, el Jeffe himself.
Distressed that the one empty chair at the table was next to Martinez, Viviana sucked in a fortifying lungful of air and seated herself. As she did, she ran a stealthy hand over her thigh, connecting with the balisong blade secreted there. Refusing to acknowledge Martinez’s hulking presence, she nodded to Francesca, then met the gaze of the elderly man next to the scowling queen bee. To her surprise, his dark brown, craggy face lit up in a smile. Inclining his head slightly, he addressed her in soft, sibilant tones. “Ah, my dear, you can only be Maja Nilsson.” When she nodded, his smile widened to a mischievous grin. “Now that I see you, I can understand why my beloved Francesca has what is apparently a very large tree trunk up her ass.”
At the uneasy laughter meeting his surprisingly insulting remark, Francesca’s frown darkened dangerously. Her forced smile didn’t mask the sheets of fury emanating from her. Her crisp rejoinder confirmed her anger. “I’m glad that you find this situation humorous, Carlos. Perhaps by the end of the evening you will not be as amused.”
At Muñoz’s dispassionate shrug, Dubois entered the strained conversation with a graceful nod to Francesca. “Tell me, Madam Ortiz, how you manage to find precisely the right wine for every occasion. The last time I had Ghost Horse Vineyards Cabernet was when my colleagues and I executed our most rewarding enterprise to date. My hope is that our exchange with you and Carlos is as financially gratifying.” He added with a smile as he raised his glass to his clearly peeved hostess, “To you, madam, who has made our visit most interesting.”
Viviana was surprised when Francesca blew off Dubois’s gracious attempt to take the chill off the conversation. Instead, she glared at Viviana, then seemed to make a decision. Sitting upright in her chair, she lifted her chin in a haughty gesture and planted a patently false smile on her face. Turning to Dubois, she said, “I had planned to have this conversation a little later, Lucas, after we all had a chance to enjoy our dinner. But Carlos’s interjection has made it necessary for me to move now to the challenges we face.”
The sudden chill that cascaded over her tense body alerted Viviana to the danger she faced. She’d known from the time she entered the room something was wrong. Seeing the wrath in Francesca’s eyes, she knew that it was more than her rabid hatred of another beautiful woman. Confirming that Viviana’s instincts were on target, Francesca acknowledged the man sitting on her other side, a man Viviana didn’t recognize.
Keeping her gaze pinned on Viviana, Francesca said, “May I introduce Major Hugo Gomez, who happens to be the chief of our local police department. Major Gomez is a friend of our cartel, which is a very good thing. As we all know, a number of international agencies, large and small, are eager to disrupt our thriving enterprise. For that reason, we cultivate and treasure loyal friends like Major Gomez. These steadfast partners make sure that we are aware when treacherous people assume that they can come into our midst and betray us.”
Swallowing hard, Viviana eased up her skirt, placing her hand on her bare thigh. Francesca broke her gaze for a moment and turned to Dubois. “I’m sorry to inform you, Lucas, but we have a viper in our nest. Major Gomez uncovered the treachery and has captured the American infiltrators who planned to breach our organization. He will appropriately dispatch them once we unite them with their leader.”
Francesca breathed a theatrical sigh, then smiled at Dubois. “I know that, like my longtime paramour, you have an eye for attractive women. And I will acknowledge that Martinez’s bar slut is attractive. Unfortunately, she is also a renegade police officer who entered Belize with the express purpose of taking down the Muñoz cartel.” Allowing the surprised gasps and groans across the room to settle, Francesca continued, “We understand from our informants that foolish woman that she is, Sergeant Viviana Moreau’s primary intention was to capture Martinez Flores.”
Viviana felt Flores rear up beside her. She could smell his boozy breath and his rancid, sweat-soaked clothing. Francesca continued with a grin so evil it put the Joker’s leer to shame, “For that reason, I have agreed that Sergeant Moreau should spend her last night in Belize with the man she came here to capture.” Turning to Flores, who was looming over Viviana, Francesca said with a sneer, “Why you want the slut, Martinez, I can’t imagine. But by all means, take her and do with her what you wish.”
Viviana had her knife in her hand when Flores jerked her from her chair. She turned to drive it into his gut, but he swerved, and she caught his wrist with a vicious slash. With a fearsome bellow, the enraged man grabbed her by her hair and threw her back against the chair. Blood spurting out of the deep wound, he screamed, “You filthy cunt! Goddamn you! You’re going to pay for this!”
To Viviana’s shock, a cool voice, now devoid of its French accent, rang out, “Release her, Martinez. Now. Or I regret that Madam Ortiz will pay the price.”
Stunned, Viviana looked up to see Dubois holding a startled Francesca Ortiz in front of him. Most shocking was the 9mm Glock he was pressing against the base of her skull. With a mighty shove, Viviana wrenched free, intending to stab Martinez again, this time between his ribs. Too late, she saw the gun in his hand and heard his triumphant shout. A second later, a piercing blast, followed by another, shattered the air. Seeing the hole in Martinez’s forehead before he sagged against the top of the table, Viviana was shocked at the ferocious pain roaring through her. Clutching her side, she fell to the floor, giving in to blessed darkness as all hell rained around her. The last thing she remembered hearing in the chaos was Dubois’s frantic voice saying, “Breathe, baby, breathe. I’ve got you.”