Special Ops Exclusive (9 page)

She shrugged. “I don’t really know. I’m just opting for full disclosure here. There
is
a chance I might seduce you.”

His husky laughter brought another shiver to her body. “Fair enough. I’ll just have to resist, then.”

“That easy, huh?”

A smug note entered his tone. “That easy.”

“If you say so,
darling.
”

With a little grin, she snuggled under his coat and turned her head, resting her cheek on the cool upholstery of her seat. “I’m going to sleep for a bit. I’m exhausted.”

“Good plan. I should probably catch some shut-eye myself.”

“Wake me when we land?” she asked.

“Will do.”

“Oh, and Nick?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll begin formulating my seduction plan tomorrow.”

“I look forward to resisting it,” he said solemnly.

Laughing softly, she closed her eyes and went to sleep.

Chapter 9

“W
e still haven’t found them.”

An aberrant vise of helplessness squeezed his throat as he paced the expensive carpet in his office. This was
not
the news he’d wanted to hear first thing in the morning.

“Where the hell are they?” he demanded. “And how have you not tracked them down yet? She’s one of the most recognizable women in the world, for Chrissake.”

“And he’s one of the most skilled soldiers in the world,” came the annoyed response. “Neither of them has surfaced in Mala since the shoot-out at the hospital.”

He clenched his teeth, not in the mood for the reminder. Fortunately, the media hadn’t uncovered the truth behind the shooting, so Rebecca Parker’s involvement in the death of the mercenary was not common knowledge. And thanks to Parker’s call to her network and her assurance that she was taking some time off to grieve, the ABN executives hadn’t reported their star correspondent missing.

Yet.

“She told the receptionist she’s coming back to D.C. soon.” He stopped pacing and approached the desk. “I want people at her apartment, the network, her favorite haunts. If Parker steps foot in this city, I want to know about it.”

“Of course.”

“And what’s the latest on Waverly?”

Carraway sounded aggravated. “No sign of him either, but I’ve got men looking into it.”

He briefly closed his eyes. Bad enough that he had three supersoldiers breathing down his neck. He also had a missing government aide to deal with.

Paul Waverly should have never been allowed to leave the Pentagon after giving Sebastian Stone that tainted water; the man was supposed to be neutralized, damn it. But now Waverly had taken off, too, fleeing in a panic because he was smart enough to know that he would need to be eliminated for his part in this cover-up.

“Just find him,” he grumbled into the receiver. “Call me later with an update.”

He hung up and sat down at the desk. Took a deep, calming breath. All right. Time to push the headaches out of his mind and concentrate on doing the job people depended on him to do.

Leaning forward, he pressed the intercom button that connected to his secretary. “Bernice,” he barked, “what’s the first item on the agenda for today?”

* * *

They landed in Costa Rica just after 7:00 a.m. Despite the five hours of sleep, Nick didn’t feel at all rested or refreshed. Rebecca, on the other hand, looked as chipper as a cartoon character. Bouncing off the plane, tipping her head to gaze up at the bright blue sky, shaking hands with Manuel as she thanked him with a broad smile.

He wondered if she’d still be in good spirits if she’d been forced to experience the same X-rated dreams that had taunted his subconscious all night.

Rebecca, naked, moaning and writhing beneath him.

Christ.

His mind had managed to produce such vivid images that Nick felt like he’d actually been naked with the sassy redhead.

Banishing his wicked thoughts, he slung his duffel over his shoulder, shoved his aviator sunglasses on the bridge of his nose and rested a hand on Rebecca’s upper arm to lead her into the hangar. The cavernous space smelled like oil, fuel and oranges, and it was devoid of life as they strode inside.

First things first—find a mode of transportation. This was the closest airfield to Pista Olvidada, but the town was still a good two-hour drive, and they didn’t have a car.

Spotting two men in gray jumpsuits near a metal rack littered with toolboxes, Nick offered a casual wave and called out,
“¡Hola!”

Both men lifted their hands in brisk waves.

Next to him, Rebecca’s hand tightened over the strap of her canvas purse. “Do we have to show them our passports or something?” she murmured.

Nick laughed under his breath. “Does this look like a real airport? We won’t be encountering any customs officials here, Red.”

“Ah. Right.”

They reached the two men, one of whom introduced himself as Javier, the owner of this less-than-legal airstrip. Javier was a stocky man with a thick black mustache and pockmarked olive skin, but even though he looked slightly menacing, he was surprisingly pleasant.

“What brings you to our little town?” He moved away from the mechanic he’d been consulting with and gestured for Nick and Rebecca to follow him.

As the three of them headed for the open doors where sunlight streamed into the hangar, Nick addressed the man’s inquiry. “We’re backpacking through Central and South America and decided to make a pit stop here to track down an old friend.”

“I see.” Javier’s dark eyes seemed to be smirking at them. “And do you always travel by such...backdoor methods? Because not many tourists wind up in my airport, my friends.”

Nick just shrugged. “We like to live on the edge.”

Beside him, Rebecca huffed out an exaggerated breath. “Don’t listen to him, Javier. My boyfriend is just trying to protect me.”

The owner of the airfield lifted one bushy eyebrow. “How so?”

“I’m on a no-fly list,” she said glumly. “There was an...incident...a few years back. Let’s just say I lost my temper and now I’m paying the price for it. No commercial flights for me.”

Now the man let out a genuine laugh. “This doesn’t surprise me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “No?”

Still laughing, Javier reached out and tugged on the end of Rebecca’s long ponytail. “The red hair,” he clarified. “Women with red hair are known to have ferocious tempers.”

“Tell me about it,” Nick said with a sigh.

They stepped out into the morning sunshine and Nick breathed in the scent of rain, earth and flora. The air was unbearably humid, which was what you got when visiting Costa Rica during the wet season.

He shrugged out of the jacket Rebecca had returned to him before they’d landed and tucked it under his arm, then glanced at Javier. “Our friend was in these parts about a week ago, but we have no way of contacting him.”

“No cell phone,” Rebecca said, shaking her head in amazement. “Who doesn’t have a cell phone these days?”

“He called us collect from some little town. Pista Olvido? Olvida—”

“Olvidada,” Javier filled in.

“Yeah, that was it. So he called and told us to come see him if we ended up here, but we have no idea where he’s staying or if he’s even still there.”

“But he was here at your airport,” Rebecca piped up. “He’s the one who hooked us up with our pilot, Manuel.”

Javier stroked his mustache with one meaty hand. “And he was here last week, you say?”

Nick nodded. “He’s from London, but he’s been living in the States so long that his accent might not be as pronounced anymore. His name is William Neville.”

The flicker of recognition in Javier’s eyes told Nick that Neville aka Waverly had indeed made an appearance at this airfield. “Yes, I remember him. Blond hair, blue eyes—”

“Vampire-white skin,” Rebecca chimed in, grinning. “Yeah, that’s Willie.”

Although he had to hide it, Nick was ridiculously impressed with Rebecca’s playacting. The woman was quick on her feet, handling Javier like a pro, and every word that left her mouth sounded like the honest-to-God truth; Nick himself would’ve believed her if he didn’t know better.

“Well, I don’t know where your friend is staying or whether he’s still in town, but as of seven days ago, he
was
in Pista Olvidada,” Javier confirmed.

Nick masked his eagerness. “Are you certain?”

“Quite certain. I drove him there myself.” A frown puckered Javier’s mouth. “He wasn’t the friendliest of men. Slightly rude, if I’m being honest.”

Rebecca sighed again. “Willie tends to get cranky after a flight. And he’s a Brit—we all know those Brits are notoriously snooty. Don’t take it personally.”

Javier laughed again. “You’re right about that. Damn Brits.”

“So you drove him to Pista Olvidada,” Nick prompted. “Did he say if he planned on sticking around?”

“He didn’t say much, but he hasn’t been back, so if he left town, he didn’t do it by plane. Unless he flew commercial or drove to another private airport—the nearest one is about ten hours south of here.”

Nice. So chances were, Waverly was still in Costa Rica, Nick thought with satisfaction.

He looked around, noting the three vehicles parked nearby on the dirt. “Is there anywhere to rent a car around here? Or is Pista Olvidada within walking distance?”

“Oh, no, my friend, it is a very long walk. Two hours by car, much longer by foot.”

Nick and Rebecca exchanged a look, as if they weren’t happy to hear this.

“Lucky for you, I also offer car rentals,” Javier said with a big, crooked-toothed smile. He hooked his thumb at an older-model Jeep. “Two hundred bucks a day.”

Wow, that was steep, but Nick supposed a man had to make a living in this no-horse town any way he could. Besides, he couldn’t imagine that they’d be in the country more than twenty-four hours.

Nick reached into his back pocket and pulled out a roll of bills. He peeled off two hundred-dollar bills and handed them to Javier. “Let’s say one day for now. If it’s more, I’ll pay you when we bring the car back.”

Javier accepted the bills and nodded in agreement.

“And if you could also arrange for a charter out when we return?” Rebecca asked sweetly. “We probably won’t be visiting with Willie for too long, and we’re eager to head south. Venezuela is next on our itinerary.”

“I will see what I can do,” Javier said as he handed Nick a set of car keys. “The tank is full. And it comes back full, yes?”

“Of course,” Nick assured him.

The two men shook hands, and then Javier took Rebecca’s hand and planted a wet kiss on her knuckles. To her credit, she didn’t balk or convey any sign of disgust.

“I will see you soon, then,” Javier told them before stalking back into the hangar.

They watched him go, then turned to each other with matching grins.

“He is astonishingly awesome considering he owns an illegal airport and probably smuggles drugs through here,” Rebecca said wryly.

Nick suddenly thought of the charismatic Enrique Salazar and had to laugh. Seemed like none of the nefarious characters he was meeting these days were living up to their reputations.

He took a step toward the Jeep. “Come on, let’s go. The sooner we get there, the sooner we find Waverly.”

She nodded enthusiastically. “The game’s afoot, then!”

He choked down his amusement. “Whatever you say, Watson.”

“Watson?” Her trademark smirk returned. “Uh-uh, Nicky, I’m Sherlock.
You’re
the sidekick.”

“Whatever helps you sleep better at night, darling.”

* * *

Nick was hyperaware of Rebecca during the ride to the coast. Excruciatingly aware, in fact. Erection-of-the-century aware.

It didn’t help that the woman kept lifting her ponytail up, revealing the tantalizing arch of her graceful neck and the little red tendrils at her nape. Her skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, thanks to the humidity thickening the air and the sun beating down on their heads. The breeze that rushed through the open top of the Jeep did nothing to ease the fire in his groin.

Why did Rebecca Parker have to be so damn sexy?

And so damn intelligent?

He wasn’t sure what he found sexier—those stunning looks of hers, or her astute, passionate rhetoric. He’d always had a thing for smart women, and Rebecca’s endless well of knowledge and insight was a major turn-on.

“So yeah, they
steal
the eggs!” she was saying, sounding livid.

Nick snapped out of his thoughts and tried to remember what they were discussing now. Sea turtles. Right.

“And then these a-holes sell the eggs, thus contributing to the extinction of the species.”

She angrily shook her head, and her wide-brimmed straw hat nearly flew off. Earlier, they’d stopped at the bustling outdoor marketplace they’d spotted along the way and picked up some supplies. Courtesy of his stack of cash, Nick was able to buy Rebecca a few changes of clothes and better shoes, and they’d also stocked up on water and fresh fruit.

Now they were about twenty minutes from Pista Olvidada, and Nick couldn’t say he hadn’t enjoyed the ride. Unceasing erection aside, he enjoyed Rebecca’s company, even if she did tend to go on long diatribes about the injustices of the world.

“And then, to make matters worse, we’ve got all these resorts being erected—”

His groin clenched. Did she have to use the word
erected?

“—effectively usurping the nesting grounds these turtles have been using for centuries. You know what, Nick? I hate people. I really do. People suck.”

A laugh rumbled out. “Aw, come on, not all people are egg-stealing, resort-building villains.”

“True,” she relented. “There are some great folks working at the preservation society. I volunteered with them last year—we spent hours digging up sea turtle eggs and moving them to protected areas, that way those nasty thieves can’t get their hands on the eggs.”

The revelation impressed the hell out of him. He was quickly learning that Rebecca was more than a pretty face you saw on television. She didn’t just report on stories—she interacted with them, lived them, breathed them. Which brought both a spark of admiration and a tug of dread, the latter because it was becoming less and less likely that she would meekly agree to go to Ecuador if he pushed the issue.

Up ahead, the road sloped upward, hugging a jagged cliff that overlooked the ocean hundreds of feet below. To their left was the jungle, emanating the familiar scent of earthy vegetation, wildflowers and acrid rot. Nick breathed it in, reminded of some of his earlier ops under Tate’s command.

The road narrowed and curved, then dipped down after five or so miles.

“It’s so beautiful,” Rebecca remarked, her gaze focused on the sparkling turquoise ocean. “I’d love to live somewhere like this one day.”

“And be away from the hustle and bustle of the city? I can’t see you giving that up.”

“No?”

He shot her a sidelong look. “Nah, I think you’d miss the excitement.”

Her green eyes twinkled playfully. “I don’t need to be in a heavily populated area for that. I can find excitement anywhere.”