Chapter 5
Satisfied that she had scored a few points with the debonair man, who had responded to her saucy remark with a flick of his finger and a smiling “Touché,” Viviana didn’t kid herself. She didn’t know what the hell this impressive man was doing among this unschooled gang of criminals, but one thing was abundantly clear—he was as dangerous to her as the cartel members were. If anything, his presence upped the ante. She was close to taking down Martinez Flores. She just needed to keep him engaged long enough to implement her plan. The plan that her captain was adamantly against. She sighed, admitting that she didn’t need a handsome, charming stranger to muddy an already complicated task.
On its face, her plan was simple enough. Since she’d wormed her way into his confidence, she’d been recording her conversations with Martinez. After a bit of editing to erase some of her more outrageous remarks, she sent the recordings to her squad leader. Her goal was to get details on when and where the cartel’s next shipment of drugs and guns would take place so that Lieutenant Jensen and his cohorts at the Belize PD could intercept the shipment. And, she hoped, take down the ringleaders.
Her overriding goal, in addition to making a dent in the cartel, was to capture Martinez. If she did nothing else, she was determined to bring to justice the despicable man who’d killed two of her squad members. But since she’d arrived in Belize, she realized that she had unknowingly infiltrated a much more important meeting than expected. The presence of Francesca Ortiz was the tip-off. Wherever Francesca went, it was certain Carlos Muñoz himself wasn’t far behind. Capturing Martinez Flores would be sweet revenge. But capturing Francesca Ortiz? Even Viviana couldn’t believe her luck. God, she was on such a roll that if things kept going her way, she might even bag el Jeffe himself.
The one sobering fact that even she had to admit was that she was here essentially by herself. Her backup was miles away and uncertain at best. It would have been nice if she were backed by an on-site team, and they were supported by more than an iffy local police force. But she wasn’t. She’d conceived of what was essentially a renegade mission that had become much more significant and dangerous than she’d ever dreamed. Calling on her gargantuan reserves of confidence, she reminded herself that, if nothing else, she would get Martinez. That, and that alone, would be a huge coup. However, if somehow, someway she could also capture Francesca and even el Jeffe…
Viviana forced herself to focus on the moment, acknowledging that the other unexpected “fly in the ointment” was sitting across from her. The problem with Mr. Dubois was more about her than about him. It was clear that he was respected, even looked up to by the fawning gangsters, including Madam Ortiz. That should have warned Viviana she had to be on guard. The challenge was her untoward reaction to him. In addition to being charming and dangerous, he was sexy as hell.
Peeking at him, Viviana wasn’t surprised at the shiver of excitement that ricocheted through her core. God, she’d been in the presence of some real badasses in her previous missions, but they paled in comparison to the emerald-eyed Casanova across from her. It wasn’t just that he was handsome as sin. It was her reaction to him. Make that her body’s reaction to him. It was so far from how she usually reacted to men that she didn’t recognize it, let alone describe it. It was unsettling at best.
At that moment, he glanced over at her and met her gaze. She was practiced enough to see the invitation that flickered across his face. She wasn’t surprised. Viviana had spent her undercover career attracting men with her significant wares. She hadn’t met a man she couldn’t get a rise out of—literally. She was an accomplished actress, playing the part of an in-your-face sexual phenom. It rarely took her more than five minutes to secure her prey in her sultry lair. But it wasn’t until she’d met Lucas Dubois that she knew how those captured men must feel. Just his presence caused her body to hum with a need so powerful it stole her breath. The gleam in Dubois’s jade-hard eyes and his provocative half-smile confirmed that he knew exactly how he was affecting her.
Horrified, she realized that for the first time in her life, she’d been snared and contained in a man’s sexual lair. As she lowered her gaze and fought to not sigh aloud, she conceded that turnabout was fair play. It didn’t help that the challenging man was clearly as evil as the men and woman she intended to capture. Now in the face of this cultured criminal, her insolent behavior on the cliff looked frivolous, dangerously naïve.
Martinez’s bark shook her out of her tortured, lust-filled reverie. Shoving at her arm, he knocked the glass of wine out of her hand. She leapt to her feet, barely managing to keep the spill from staining her dress.
“Goddammit, woman! Now look what you made me do.” When she ignored him, Martinez roughly grabbed her arm and yelled, “You fucking bitch! I’m talkin’ to you! Look at me! Goddammit, when Martinez Flores talks, my cunts sit up and listen if they know what’s good for ’em.”
Knocking his hand off her arm, Viviana grabbed the napkins the frightened server handed her and pressed them against the spreading Cabernet stain marring the tablecloth. Turning a narrowed gaze on the scowling, inebriated man in the chair next to her, she lifted her chin and replied curtly, “Two problems with that assertion, Martinez. First, I rarely agree with what other people, particularly men, think is good for me. Second, I’m not and never will be anyone’s cunt. Especially not yours.”
The dead silence throughout the room confirmed that everyone heard her shocking put-down. With a loud growl, Martinez rose menacingly from his chair, then lowered his head and turned on her, a snorting bull pawing the ground, preparing to attack. Viviana had started to move back when two strong arms lifted her up in the air and dropped her a full three feet away from the charging man. In a dizzying turn, Dubois wrenched Martinez’s arm behind his back and pinned him to the table, pressing the miscreant’s face against the wine-stained tablecloth. The frantic man’s writhing body and tortured screams confirmed that Dubois’s thumb on the pressure point on Flores’s neck had painfully incapacitated him. Only when Martinez’s screams became sobbing imprecations begging to be free did Dubois release his hold.
Jax turned to his partners, Brent Peters and Serge Striker, who were at his side before he’d secured Martinez to the table. Jax wasn’t surprised that Felix Garcia was beside him nearly as quickly as his men. He nodded to the three powerful men and murmured, “Get him out of here.”
Felix jerked his head at two of the cowering men at the table and said to Jax, “We’ll take care of it, Lucas. He’s our problem, not yours.” Looking over at Viviana, who was clinging pale-faced to the edge of the table, he muttered, “Jesus fucking Christ, woman, whatever are we going to do with you?”
Glancing at her, Jax raised an ironic brow, then said to no one in particular, “In my mind, that may be the question of the century.”
Not sure where she could or should go, Viviana stumbled out onto the patio, looking for a place to crash. Her legs were shaking so hard, she knew if she didn’t sit down, she’d fall down. The adrenaline that had spiked her body when she turned on Martinez was beginning to crash dramatically. She sank into the plush armchair and leaned against the back. She was still amazed she’d taken on the hideous man in front of the entire cartel. God, Felix was right. What was she going to do with her? She knew she’d attacked a dangerous man. She could only hope that his cadre would be like Felix. Horrified, but maybe even a little impressed. No matter the outcome, Viviana knew she’d done what she had to do. No one, particularly a Neanderthal like Martinez Flores, would ever call her his cunt and get away with it.
“Mind if we join you?”
Viviana startled and looked up to see Dubois and the two men who’d rushed in to help him subdue Martinez standing in front of her. Behind them was Marcus, the bartender she’d flirted with earlier. The grinning server was carrying a tray with two bottles of Compass Box Hedonism and five glasses. He nodded at Dubois and said, “The lady particularly likes Compass Box. Although I think it might be the Hedonism component that attracts her.”
Jax’s lip quirked up at the label on the box as he sank into the chair next to hers. He quipped, “Methinks that is a given. By all means, have at it, Marcus. I have to believe that even the feisty Miss Nilsson could use a healthy pour of scotch, the more hedonistic the better.”
After they’d silently toasted one another, quaffed back the potent liquor, and accepted the refill Marcus offered each of them, Jax allowed himself to focus on Maja. God, she was beautiful—and sexy as hell. Her rosy cheeks, shining eyes, and slightly disheveled hair called out to his dick. It surged shamelessly in response to the stunning woman. He could hardly blame his erotic tool. Hell, nothing like beating up a piece-of-shit asshole to get the old testosterone flowing. Added to Maja’s cutting takedown of the repulsive man, it was no wonder his libido was in overdrive.
As he had for the last two days, he marveled at the surprising woman. From her headlong dive off the cliff, to her insolent attack on Francesca, to her stunning takedown of Flores, he knew he’d never seen a more brazen and, frankly, more courageous woman. Not to mention that she was clearly more than a little unhinged. He raised his glass to her, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“To you, Miss Nilsson. Congratulations, you single-handedly silenced a roomful of heavily armed gangsters, any one of whom could have taken you out blindfolded.”
Viviana tossed her head and grinned. “Don’t be too sure of that, Mr. Dubois. You don’t know the half of my talents.”
Jax laughed along with the others, then agreed. “I’m confident of that, Maja.” He allowed his gaze to rest on her bodacious bosom, then drift lazily over her curvy hips and showgirl legs. Glad that his arrogant perusal and use of her first name brought a pleasing flush to her pale cheeks, he murmured, “Let’s just say that what I have seen to date more than promises additional ‘talents.’ ”
To his disappointment, Maja tossed back her scotch and rose to her feet. Giving a theatrical yawn, she raised her arms over her head in a body-revealing stretch, then purred, “Sorry, gentlemen, I really must go. I need to get my beauty sleep.”
Jax quickly rose alongside her and said with a concerned frown, “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but where are you going?”
She shrugged and said flippantly, “To my suite. Where else?”
Horrified that she might mean the suite she shared with Flores, Jax forced himself to speak calmly. “Hmm, isn’t that where Garcia took your bad boy suitor?”
She pretended surprise. “Yes. And so?”
No longer trying to couch his concern, Jax asked, “Are you sure that’s wise? In case you haven’t noticed, your paramour isn’t the most stable of men. Particularly since he’s mainlining H and smack, and he’s drunk out of his mind on booze. It’s hard to predict what he’ll do when the crap wears off.”
Maja grinned at him and said jauntily, “Put it this way. I’ll have finished my ten-mile morning run and be all nicely showered and dressed when Martinez pries open his bloodshot, groggy eyes and greets the day.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a plastic baggie containing different-colored tablets. Responding to Jax’s frown, she said, “The only thing I know that’s stronger than Super Eight and crack is Fentanyl. Two of these strategically placed in the bad boy’s booze ensures that my sleep will be sound and uninterrupted.” She winked at him and said impishly, “Timing is the only challenge with these little babies. But never fear, I’m a master at timing. I don’t appreciate being awakened by rutting men.”
She tipped up her chin and met his gaze. “By the way, thank you for coming to my rescue. I appreciated it. Even I was a tad concerned that I might not be able to take him down.” With a saucy wave, she said over her shoulder, “Good night, boys. Sleep well. I intend to. It’s been a full day.”
With that irony hanging in the air, the audacious woman sauntered into the resort to God only knew where.
Jax sank back down in his chair and silently nursed his drink. He had to admit that he was entirely taken by the gorgeous, truly outrageous woman. He also acknowledged that it hurt like hell that she was a moll, at the very least heavily involved in the cartel. He groaned and rubbed at his eyes, knowing how hard it was going to be to take her down with the rest of the criminals. Something he planned to do in the next two days.
Glancing up, he saw his team members studying him. He knew that he likely looked as troubled as he felt, so he tried to lighten the mood. Forcing a grin, he said, “Well, men, if nothing else, you have to admit that she really is something.”
Brent Peters and Serge Striker exchanged a telling look. Brent nodded to Jax. “Yeah, man, that she is. In fact, that may be the understatement of the century.”
After a pregnant pause, Serge leaned forward and said solemnly, “We need to talk, boss man.”
Understanding that their news was not good, Jax sat up straighter in his chair and nodded to Brent. “All right, buddy, enough foreplay. Have at it.”
Brent sighed and put up his hands. “Okay, man. Serge and I did as you asked. We nosed around, determined to find out who the little sprite is that’s had all of our dicks working overtime. We checked with the usual sources and then as things got interesting, we started checking with the unusual sources. As things got even more interesting, with the help of the housekeeping staff, we managed to obtain and ship a specimen of her DNA to the national data bank and told ’em to rush it.”
Aware that his men would never go to this much trouble unless it was necessary, Jax shoved at the bile surging in his throat. Knowing that the news could only be bad, he nodded to his partners. Breathing out a hard sigh, he said, “Go ahead, lay it on me. She’s a high-level Russian spy, preparing to take over the Muñoz cartel single-handedly, and is wanted in six countries for murder—of small, defenseless children, no less.”
Serge shook his head and smashed his lips together in a firm line. “No, man, we should be so lucky.” He reached over and refilled their glasses, then met Jax’s stern gaze. “Since this is close to an unbelievable tale, I recommend you buckle up and prepare for the ride of your life.” He added with an exaggerated sigh, “It’s about as bad as it can get, dude. She’s a cop.”