Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Trujillo, Puerto Jardin

27 Months Earlier

ZO WAS BEGINNING to wonder if she'd lost her mind. Why the hell was she wandering around Trujillo in the rain looking for a mercenary who was perfectly capable of taking care of himself? He probably already watched his back and didn't need her to warn him.

At least she'd been smart enough to wear her waterproof raincoat. With the hood up, the olive-green jacket was doing a good job keeping her dry. Zo wished, though, that it was longer. Her butt and thighs were getting wet, and the denim was weighing her down.

How did she find a mercenary anyway?

The times she'd run into Finn, he'd either been meeting with Silva or following the man. There was no reason to believe he'd be discussing anything with the arms dealer today—Silva spent Sundays with his wife and family—but even if he was, Zo had promised to steer clear. Since the bruising around her mouth had barely faded, the last thing she wanted to do was cross paths with the asshole or his bodyguards.

She was walking in a working-class area of Trujillo, thinking Finn might be staying at a rooming house here because it would be inexpensive, but she didn't know what mercenaries earned. Maybe he was staying at a four-star hotel in the middle of the business district.

The next stop was a block ahead—a low-cost motel—and with a grimace, she slogged onward. He'd protected her with Silva, and she owed Finn, that was the bottom line. She'd keep looking for him until late afternoon and start again tomorrow morning if she needed to.

When she reached the motel, she pushed the door open, wiped her feet on the small mat, and lowered her hood. The girl behind the counter didn't look older than fourteen. Zo guessed this was a family-run business. She was reading something on her phone and didn't bother to glance her way even after Zo approached the desk.

" Perdóneme ," Zo said.

The girl looked up with so much attitude, Zo nearly grinned. No one displayed annoyance the way a teenager could. "Do you need a room?" the girl asked in Spanish, sounding beleaguered.

"No, I'm looking for Tom Finley. Is he in?" Zo had learned at the first place she'd stopped not to ask if he was staying there.

The girl's demeanor changed like flipping a switch, and a smile wiped the annoyance from her face. "Se?or Tom?" Suddenly, she clammed up, her expression becoming suspicious. "What do you want with him?"

"He's my fiancé." It was a good lie, and Zo had no compunction about using it again.

The petulance returned with a vengeance. "I don't believe you. He's never said anything about a fiancée."

"I don't share everything," Finn said from beyond her left shoulder. The girl at the desk jumped in surprise, and Zo nearly did as well. She hadn't heard him come up behind her. "I wasn't expecting you, loquita . Did we have plans I've forgotten?"

"No, I wanted to surprise you." His jacket had water beading across it from the rain, and his blond hair was plastered to his head. "Do you have time?"

"For you? Always, mi alma ."

My soul. She found herself becoming beguiled again. As he lowered his head toward her, she lifted her lips to meet his. Another of his brushed kisses—she was getting too used to them—and damn it, it wasn't enough. Zo wanted more. But before she could do something stupid, the girl at the counter interrupted.

"No women in your room, Se?or Tom." The sullenness was there full force. "You know the rules."

"Sí, Ava, I know. Want to get a coffee?" he asked Zo.

"That sounds good." She'd barely finished speaking when Finn took her hand and moved for the exit. Zo pulled her hood up just in time to step out of the door he held open for her.

"How'd you know I was staying here?" he asked as they walked. He didn't sound happy.

"I didn't."

Finn glanced down at her sharply, wordlessly demanding an explanation.

"I've been in every boarding house and motel between here and where I parked my car. I had another dozen or so on my list before I'd drive to the next section of town and start checking those out." Zo changed the subject. "Ava has a crush on you."

Finn was quiet for a long moment, and then he sighed. "I know. There's not much I can do about it. Why were you searching for me? Are you in trouble?"

"No, but you are. "

"How so?" He sounded only vaguely interested and not remotely worried. For some strange reason, it made Zo feel more protective.

"Alfonso Ramos thinks you're brokering arms for his rival."

"Why the hell would Ramos think that?"

"I don't know. Maybe because you came to San Isidro to sell to him, and he turned you down. What I do know is that Al approached me and said he wanted to chat. He suggested I tell you—my fiancé—that he will put an end to you if you try to arm Bianchi."

"How—Never mind for the moment." Finn shook his head. "Let's find somewhere out of the rain where we can talk."

They passed one coffee shop, but he didn't slow. A glance inside told Zo why. The place was tiny with the tables in close proximity, and more than half of them were filled. They'd have no privacy.

The café Finn chose was much better. While the tables were bunched together, there was a separate section with two sofas and some distance between them. At the moment, there was no one there. "Grab the couch in the corner," he ordered. It was the most secluded of the options. "Any strong preferences for coffee?"

Zo shook her head. "Not really, but I prefer light roasts."

While Finn went to the counter to get their coffees, Zo took off her jacket, hung it on a hook near the entrance, and claimed the sofa as ordered. She'd barely sat down when a group of six came in, hung up their jackets next to hers, glanced around, and took the couch and chairs nearby. They were up by the café windows, still some distance away, and loud. Maybe loud enough to cover any conversation she and Finn had.

He took longer than she'd expected before returning with a tray filled with not only beverages but two large slices of pionono, a scoop of ice cream next to each. "I hope you're not gluten-free or doing low carb," Finn said as he set the tray down on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

"I'm not. What kind of ice cream is that?"

"Handmade vanilla." He shrugged off his jacket, wrapped it inside out, and tossed it across one of the ottoman-chairs on the other side of the coffee table. She wasn't surprised when he sat beside her, near enough for Zo to feel the warmth of his body. "I stayed simple since I didn't know what you liked."

Zo reached for a plate to keep from leaning into him. The pionono was filled with whipped cream, and chocolate sauce was dribbled over it and the ice cream. Finn handed her a spoon and took his own plate. This, she realized belatedly, felt like a date.

"Are you ready to talk?" she asked, trying to dispel the sensation.

"Five minutes won't make a difference. Let me enjoy the cake first."

She nodded, but in five minutes, she might be snuggled against his side. When it came to this man, she was weak. Repeatedly reminding herself he was a mercenary and a wannabe gunrunner wasn't working anymore. Zo took a bite of the pastry, and her eyes closed in bliss. Who'd believe that something this delicious was hiding in a coffee shop in this part of town?

"This might be the best pionono I've ever had"—she took a sip of coffee—"and if you tell Tia Izel I said that, I'll call you a liar."

His lips quirked up. "Your secrets are safe with me."

Warmth flushed through Zo's body, and she focused on her pastry until it passed. Oh, yeah, she had it bad, and if she didn't find a way to snap herself out of it, she'd be in big trouble. His arm brushed hers as he reached for a napkin, and the heat escalated.

Who was she kidding? She was already in big trouble .

Another group of people entered, talking gaily as they added their outerwear to the hooks in the entry, burying her jacket, before moving into the main part of the coffee house. The chatter around them offered a nice cover for a private conversation.

Putting her empty plate on the tray, Zo retrieved her mug. "Can we talk now?"

She felt his sigh more than heard it. "Yeah, start at the beginning, and take me through what happened, step by step."

"San Isidro always puts up the town's nativity scene two weeks before Christmas Eve. It's a major celebration, and people come in from miles around. Al is a regular attendee, so I didn't think much of it when I saw him there."

"You must know him pretty well to call him Al," Finn said lazily.

Despite the lack of question in his tone, Zo knew what he was asking. "His grandfather was my parents' foreman at the Huarona ruins, and Al babysat me for a few summers, but I'm not sure anyone knows him well. Didn't your snooping around town net you that information?"

Finn made a non-committal sound that didn't tell her anything.

Zo let it go and returned to her timeline of events. "After the ceremony, as the feast got underway, Al came over. This is only semi-unusual. Most of the time, he ignores me, but sometimes he doesn't." She shrugged. "Today, he didn't."

"What did he say, exactly? Give me everything as close to word for word as you can."

Her cheeks warmed again, but this time it was vague embarrassment rather than arousal. She remembered everything. "He said, ‘Zofia, you're looking lovely today. Your engagement must agree with you, although I'm surprised you lowered your standards. A gunrunner? Your parents must be so proud.' "

"How the hell did he hear the engagement story?" Finn demanded.

With a brief shake of her head, Zo said, "All of San Isidro knows. Tia Izel cornered me in the kitchen on Thursday to demand an explanation. She said she heard it from Se?or Garcia." She looked square at Finn for the first time since the topic had started. There was no indication he'd recognized the name. "Se?or Garcia is in his early eighties, and while he's a sweetheart, he's a huge gossip. I haven't been able to discover how he heard the story."

Finn scowled. "You didn't mention it?"

Zo stiffened and leveled a glare on him. "I did not." His arm went around her shoulders, and he gave her upper arm a rub. It derailed her anger. "If you didn't say anything, that leaves Sil—"

"I know who it leaves," Finn cut her off. "Let's put that aside for now. What else did Al say?"

Okay, she got it. Don't say Silva's name aloud. She dropped her pitch to imitate Ramos. "‘If you want your fiancé to live until your wedding day, I suggest you tell him not to broker any deals with or for Se?or Bianchi. Anyone who helps my enemy is also my enemy.' Then he wished me Feliz Navidad and disappeared into the crowd."

Removing his arm from around her shoulders, Finn raised his mug and drank some coffee. There was no indication he was taking this seriously. It scared her. She couldn't protect him against a drug lord, especially not Ramos. He'd done things that concerned her when he'd been fifteen, and he had only become more dangerous as he'd grown up. There was no question Al ordered people killed, and he had the muscle to get the job done.

She dropped her hand on Finn's leg, right above his knee, and squeezed as hard as she could. "Don't blow this off. Al is not someone to take lightly. Ever. "

"I'm not blowing it off, Zo." His gaze met hers, and she saw the intensity there. It allowed her to relax a fraction.

"Good." She tried to pull her hand back but couldn't make herself do it. The hard muscles of his thigh were warm against her palm, and she liked the tingly sensation growing the longer she touched him. Zo forced herself to return her hand to her mug. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm thinking about it," he said.

With a shrug, she finished her coffee. It was obvious he wouldn't tell her anything, even if he already had a plan forming. The lack of trust hurt, although it shouldn't. It wasn't as if she trusted him, right? Right? She put her mug back on the tray. "I need to get going. I don't want to drive in the dark."

Finn nodded. "I'll walk you to your car."

"That's all right, I can—" A hard look ended her refusal. "Okay, thanks," she said instead.

Standing, he offered a hand to help her to her feet and then put his jacket on. They paused near the coat rack, and she dug out her rain jacket from the collection hanging there. It shocked her when he held it for her. Discomfited by his politeness, Zo dropped her hands into her jacket's pockets.

Her head came up in a hurry as she touched paper. Her pockets had been empty when they'd arrived at the coffee house. She withdrew her hand, a note curled in her fist. Slowly, she unfolded it.

Zoey, I'm safe for now. Stop looking for me, or that will change.

"Who is that from?" Finn demanded, voice low.

"Mari. No one else has ever called me Zoey."