Dana Marton - Spy Hard

The woman stood on the balcony in the same spot as before. Something glinted on her face. Sure looked like tears. As the wind changed, he could hear her soft whisper.

“Dear God, please help me away from this place before he kills me. I beg you, please, please send someone to save me.” She had a slight Texas accent.

Her words were so filled with desperation they twisted even his stone-cold heart. He kept his gaze on her. So they were both Texans. He told himself that didn’t mean they had any sort of connection.

She was the spoiled girlfriend of a murderous criminal, probably upset because she didn’t get as many diamonds this week as she’d expected. Sounded like she’d had a fight with Don Pedro earlier. None of Jase’s business.

Suddenly she turned his way and peered into the shadows, alarm ringing in her voice as she asked, “Who’s there?”

He stepped forward. “Sorry if I bothered you. I’m Jase. I’m looking for one of the men.”

She shrunk back.

And he realized what he must look like, fresh from a fight, with blood on his shirt and face, violence still hanging around him in the air. “Sorry.” He turned to go.

“Wait,” she called after him. “Are you the one who brought that little boy in?”

He raised his gaze back to her. Her large eyes watched him carefully from above a straight, pert nose.

“Consuela from the kitchen told me,” she said.

He swore silently. Consuela talked too much. “Scrawny little thing.” He gave a dismissive gesture. “I don’t think we’ll see much work out of him. He might not even make it.”

Her face turned even sadder, if possible, the corners of her full lips turning down. She nodded and walked inside the house without looking at him again.

She wasn’t what he’d expected from the Don’s girlfriend. Although Jase could only see her from the chest up—the wooden railing hid the rest—she looked more like a schoolteacher than a Brazilian photo model, which was Don Pedro’s usual entertainment, if the rumors around camp were true.

This one looked wholesome and fragile, completely inappropriate for the Don. How in hell did someone like her find her way to a place like this?

Clearly a mistake. A mistake she was rapidly realizing, judging by her whispered prayer. Well, he couldn’t help her with her troubles. His hands were plenty full already. She’d be nothing but a distraction. And a distracted undercover operative was a dead undercover operative.

He moved on. Dogs barked in their enclosures. The river rushed on in the distance. He didn’t take a dozen steps before Alejandro materialized from the darkness.

The man’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What are you doing here?”

“Lucas sent me to find you.”

“You shouldn’t be hanging around the house.” His voice dripped with disapproval. He puffed his chest out as if he wasn’t just another lackey, one measly step above Jase.

“I thought you might have gone up to play cards with the guys in packing.”

“Shot the dice with the idiots at the stables.” His grim look said he didn’t win. “Jorge got back. Says he saw another burned village to the south. Cristobal is definitely heading this way.”

Which meant there would be a major battle in a couple of days.

“We’ll take care of him.” Jase squared his shoulders in a macho display for Alejandro’s sake. But his mind was on the boy. He needed to get Mochi out of here at the first opportunity.

He tried not to think of the crying woman whose sad eyes haunted him.

The woman on the balcony came to him in his sleep. Naked. The dark jungle whispered its mysterious song around them. Silver moonlight splashed on her skin, her long hair tumbling to her waist.

Jase’s body turned hard with need, but for some reason he couldn’t reach for her. Then he saw at last what held him back. Thorny vines tied him to a tree. He watched, unable to move, as a black jaguar stole forward from the bushes and crouched, getting ready to lunge at the woman. Blood glistened on the animal’s muzzle. And as Jase looked around, he could see a small foot sticking out from under the bush where the jaguar had come from. Mochi .

He woke to shouting outside the barracks, cold sweat covering his body. Sunlight filtered through the burlap curtains. Lucas rushed in, an extra belt of bullets swung over his shoulder, a scowl on his face.

“What is it?” Jase grabbed his gun first, his shirt second.

“We’re preparing for battle. Cristobal sent a messenger. He demands unconditional surrender.”

A glance out the window revealed a man lying in the dust on his back behind one of the jeeps. A familiar knife protruded from his throat, the very one that Jase had traded for Mochi. Alejandro was always eager to score points.

“And that would be the messenger?”

Lucas flashed a ferocious grin and rushed on out the back door. Jase washed his face then followed after him, heading to the kitchen to see about the kid and get some coffee. Then he would go straight to the main house. The Don would be calling his people today, needing all his alliances to back him in the battle. Now was a better time than ever to plant that bug. They could gain some serious intelligence out of this.

He strode through the long building he bunked in that resembled the Indian longhouses, a half wall of bamboo erected here and there for privacy. In other places colorful horse blankets hung from the ceiling to separate the bunks from each other. In general, the men didn’t much care about their lodgings. Anything was better than sleeping in the open jungle, at the mercy of the elements and the animals.

He pushed through the door into the kitchen, which was little more than a large shack attached to the barracks. But he found the blanket Mochi had slept on empty.

Before he could have gotten worried about the kid, the boy walked in through the back door, chewing on a large chunk of flatbread. The woman from the balcony last night stepped in right behind him, a hand on her round, pregnant belly the railing had hidden the night before.

“Sorry, I’m—” She froze at the sight of Jase. Unease widened her big, thick-lashed Bambi eyes, the color of dark chocolate with gold specs that somehow made them mesmerizing. She pressed her full lips together as she drew back. She’d probably thought all the men were outside and had expected only Consuela in the kitchen.

Once again, she saw him at his worst. His hair hadn’t met up with his comb yet this morning; his face hadn’t seen a razor in a week. He was unkempt and half-naked… And he couldn’t believe he was worrying about his looks , for heaven’s sake.

He shrugged into his wrinkled shirt and ran his fingers through his hair. “Can I help you?”

It behooved anyone to be nice to the boss’s girlfriend.

The boss’s pregnant girlfriend.

She looked five or six months along. So much for those slim hips in his dream. Not that she looked any less sexy just the way she was. Her full lips captured his attention for a few seconds before his gaze dropped to her breasts that stretched the thin material of her strappy dress. His body instantly responded to her.

Suicidal much? the voice of reason asked in his head. For once in his life, he resolved to listen to it.

“Where are this boy’s parents?” Her voice sounded like home.

He would have lied if he said her slight Texas twang didn’t affect him. Her large, dark eyes were ringed with shadows, as if she hadn’t gotten much sleep lately. None of his business. He wasn’t going to get involved in any trouble the boss’s girlfriend might be having. Going anywhere near her, even allowing himself to dream of her, was trouble with a capital T .