Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

Los Angeles, California

24 Months Earlier

HOLDING hands with Finn made Zo's body go warm, and it didn't matter a damn that they'd been doing it constantly for a week and a half. She might never get used to it. And his kisses… She could feel her eyes go unfocused from the memory alone.

She'd drawn a hard line, and he'd respected it, but it hadn't been easy. Every time Finn touched her, Zo felt the heat. She'd never leaped into sex, no matter how irresistible the guy was, and things had moved far too fast for her in Puerto Jardin. If they were going to have more than a torrid affair, they needed to back up, to take it slower.

No matter how impossible it seemed.

Maybe she was overthinking this. Maybe he only wanted hot sex and not a relationship. Maybe, but as he'd told her, he didn't need to drive from Florida to LA for a hookup. Shaking her head, she made herself concentrate on her surroundings .

The sun was setting as they approached the landing, but the pier was open twenty-four/seven, and the restaurants would be serving for hours. She should have brought him to Santa Monica Pier, but they'd done Venice Beach today, and she couldn't deal with more crowds. This was better. There were plenty of people here, but not hoards.

"Are you hungry?" Finn asked.

The question reminded her that it had been a while since lunch. "Yes."

"Is this place any good?" He gestured to his left.

It was, but Zo asked her own question instead. "Are you set on a sit-down restaurant?"

"Why? What did you have in mind?"

"Egg rolls. We could grab an order and walk as we eat."

There wasn't a line, so it only took a few moments before they were on their way toward the pier. The food meant no hand-holding, which was a win for her equilibrium.

"These are good," he said as they maneuvered around a family leaving for the evening.

"Was there any doubt?" Zo took a bite and savored the flavor. His shoulder brushed hers, distracting Zo for an instant.

"Yeah. When I saw the price, I wondered if you'd picked it because it was cheap."

She knew why he'd said that. There'd been ongoing negotiations. "If you'd let me pay once in a while, we—"

"We're burning your gas as we visit these tourist spots." His lips curved, and he deliberately bumped his arm against hers. "We're probably close to even if that's what has you worried."

It wasn't. The Army didn't pay much, and now he didn't even have that income. Her concern was for his bank account, not their balance sheet. "You know," she said, trying to sound casual, "I earn enough working for the Paladin League to treat you now and then."

They reached the start of the actual pier, and the bricks gave way to cracked concrete. Along the rail, the diehards continued to fish, and lights illuminated the length. Before long, the concrete changed to wooden planking, but Finn remained quiet. They continued to stroll. A cement bench facing the ocean was empty, and without saying anything, she headed to it and sat down. He settled beside her, closer than was strictly necessary given the width of the seat and the fact that no one else was sharing the space, but she liked the heat of his body too much to complain.

She was nearly finished with her last egg roll when Finn finally spoke. "About the money. Don't take this question the wrong way, loquita, but how the hell can you afford that condo at your age? Trust fund?"

Zo grimaced. They'd spent time getting to know each other, and while they'd had plenty of intimate conversations, there were topics they'd both avoided. As fast as their relationship was moving, maybe it was time to delve into those areas, too. "No trust fund," she said quietly. "The Paladin League does pay me well, but you're right, not enough to buy the condo. I have a couple of side hustles."

"Like what?"

Wiping her hands on her napkins to remove the oil from the egg rolls, Zo glanced at him from beneath her eyelashes. Finn might not be looking her direction, but she had his full attention. "I do some occasional work verifying whether or not an artifact is genuine, and writing up my findings for whoever hired me."

He finished his food, too, wiped his hands much as she had, and then took their garbage to a nearby can before returning to sit beside her. "How often does that happen? A couple of times a year?"

"Something like that," she muttered. Without her PhD, she wasn't in demand or at the top of the pay scale. Zo took an unobtrusive breath. He wasn't going to like the other thing she did freelance. "I earn the most, though, from helping insurance companies track down relics stolen from museums or personal collections. They pay me a percentage of what the item was insured for. It's a lucrative sideline, and theft happens more often than you'd think."

She felt the muscles in his body tense. Finn turned to stare at her. "Let me get this straight—you hunt down stolen goods? You really are crazy. Thieves are dangerous."

Her stomach twisted. She hadn't told him what she did for the Paladin League yet. Finn definitely wouldn't like that. "I don't retrieve the items. I simply locate them and let someone else know where they are. She gets them back, and I split the recovery fee with her."

Finn stared at her, and while it was hardly noticeable, Zo read his suspicion. She met his gaze head-on. She'd told the truth—her freelance work for the insurance companies kept her far away from thieves and their brokers. It was her job at the Paladin League that had her interacting with society's underbelly.

"You must have some interesting connections to be able to track those items down."

He didn't know the half of it. Zo shrugged. "Spending so much time in Puerto Jardin gave me a wide range of acquaintances."

Some of his tension receded. "Are you continuing to do these side jobs?"

"Yes."

"Why? Paying down the mortgage on the condo?"

She'd paid cash for her home, so she only had the monthly homeowners' association fee, her insurance, and taxes, and her Paladin League salary did cover those costs. "I'm putting the money away in investments for my retirement."

"You're twenty-six."

"Haven't you started to save for retirement yet?"

His lips quirked up at one corner. "No. The Army didn't allow me time for any side hustles besides college courses." Finn took her hand and squeezed. "Want an ice cream?"

"Yes."

He helped her to her feet and laced their fingers as they walked back the way they came. It surprised her when he stopped for soft serve. She'd thought they were going to head off the pier to the gelato store. There was a line, and it was fully dark before they got their cones.

They walked back toward the bench they'd shared. As they rounded the corner, she saw a couple of teenagers sitting there, so they continued on. A breeze came off the water, and Zo was grateful for her leather jacket.

"I'll trade you a taste of chocolate for a taste of vanilla," Finn said.

"Okay." Pausing, she held up her cone for him. She half-expected him to help himself to a huge bite as a joke, but he didn't. He'd said a taste, and that was what he took. Zo did the same when he offered his ice cream to her.

"You have chocolate on your face."

Before Zo could unwrap the napkin from her cone, Finn bent down, put his mouth off to the side of hers, and licked. That quickly, that easily, the heat between them ignited into a blaze.

"Gone," he reported, voice thick.

Zo was in trouble. Resisting him in Puerto Jardin had been difficult, and she'd had to cling to the fact that he was a gunrunner like a shield. But that line of defense was gone. The day he'd arrived, she'd gotten a friend at the Paladin League to run a check on him. She'd confirmed Finn's story—he'd been recently discharged from the US Army, and he'd most definitely been Special Forces.

Ten days. He'd been staying in her guest room for ten days. She'd meant only a night or two, but Finn was easy to share her home with. He was quiet, thoughtful, and after asking permission, had spent a lot of time reading her books on archaeology.

Zo bit her bottom lip. She loved talking with him. They'd stay up late, conversing about anything and everything. And his kisses. Again, Zo felt her brain go fuzzy just thinking of them.

The most enticing thing about Finn, though, was his integrity. He'd vowed she could trust him not to hurt her. He'd promised her that she could set the pace on their physical relationship, and he never crossed the line. When she said stop, he stopped. No pushing, no arguing, no cajoling. He immediately honored her request.

Oh, yeah, she was in big, big trouble. It was only a matter of time before they became lovers.

"You're quiet," Finn said.

"Enjoying the evening." And thinking about going to bed with you. She spotted another empty bench up ahead. This one was wire mesh and had a back, making it more comfortable. "Why don't we sit and talk a while?"

His step faltered momentarily. "Okay." Finn guided her to the bench, his hand low on her waist. Zo repressed a shiver. She liked the possessiveness in that gesture. "What did you want to talk about?" he asked when they were seated.

Zo hadn't planned to jump right in, but maybe that was the easiest way. "You said you were in foster care. How'd that happen?"

His body went from ready for anything to tense. Finn took a deep breath and slowly blew it out. "In Puerto Jardin, you called it a sob story to manipulate you."

"That was when I heard it from Tom Finley." Zo put her hand on his knee and squeezed. "If you don't want to talk about it, just say so."

His hand covered hers. "I don't want to talk about it." Before the disappointment could settle in, Finn added, "But I will, for you. Give me a minute to collect my thoughts. I didn't expect an ambush."

Turning her hand into his, Zo laced their fingers. He always kept her on his left side so his right arm would be free. She'd almost gotten used to that. "I never meant to ambush you."

"I know." His gaze settled on the darkened water in front of them. The silence lasted a long time before he said, "I was put in foster care after I'd been abandoned. I was so young, the only thing I knew was my name, and I might have been wrong about the Rowland part."

Zo brought her other hand around so that she could wrap both of them around his. "The police couldn't find your mother or father?"

He shook his head. "That's one of the reasons why they thought Rowland might be wrong. I did bounce around foster care, loquita." Now he looked at her. "Not a sob story, but the truth. The longest I ever lived with any family was a school year—eight or nine months, right?"

"Sounds right."

"Yeah. I stayed away from the toys the family's real kids liked to avoid conflict—so no video games or trucks. I read instead, everything I could get my hands on. I tried to fit in, to become whatever the family wanted me to be, hoping I'd stick somewhere, but I never did."

She considered that for a moment. It raised a question—was the man she was spending time with the genuine Finn, or was he pretending to be who he thought she wanted? Zo shook her head. They were both on their best behavior right now, but she felt confident this was the real man. "Your team became your family. Don't deny it. I hear the way you talk about them, especially Ski and Griff."

"You're right. They're my family."

"Why'd you leave the Army then? "

Finn leaned back on the bench, his shoulder pressing into hers. "You want the truth, or what I told my buddies?"

"I'll take the truth." He'd lied to his friends?

"I was losing myself in the roles I assumed, especially Tom. Every time I played the part, it became harder to push him away. Harder to become Finn again. By the time we met, I was wondering if he'd take over."

"Why weren't you worried about the other personalities?"

Finn shrugged. "Those roles came and went. Tom was frequent. It seemed like most of the ops needed that dude."

Zo thought about what he said about becoming too much like Tom. Memories ran through her head. Memories of Finn protecting her from Silva's wrath. Memories of him risking his mission to keep her safe, even after Torres had her taken hostage. "Tom wasn't taking over. Trust me on that."

He didn't argue with her, but he didn't appear convinced. "My turn to ask a question."

Despite her best efforts, Zo tensed the same way he had. She'd known this was coming, but she hadn't been ready. "Shoot," she said, trying to fake nonchalance.

"Why do you make so many trips to Puerto Jardin? And don't tell me it's to visit friends." His rainforest-green eyes bore into her. "The country is a war zone."

The Army had checked her out. It's how he'd gotten her home address, and it's how he'd gotten the information about her frequent trips to South America, too. She straightened, sitting rigidly on the bench. "I'm not involved with drugs."

"I didn't say you were."

"But you were wondering. Why wouldn't you? I know Ramos well enough to call him Al, and flying back and forth between the US and Puerto Jardin is suspicious as hell." Zo scowled. "You don't want to know how many times I've had to answer questions going through customs in LA. I'm aware of what it looks like."

"Why do you go to Puerto Jardin? "

"Why Puerto Jardin? Because sometimes it seems like every stolen artifact in South and Central America goes through there."

"Why do you go there?" Finn repeated.

Zo sighed. They were going deep tonight, might as well go the full distance. Her career and his reaction to it would play a significant role in whether or not they had a relationship. "It's my job to meet with the men who broker sales of these stolen relics."

Finn's muscles tensed. "Let me get this straight. Your boss sends you to a war-torn country to meet with men who deal in stolen antiquities? What the hell does he expect you to do?"

"Work miracles."

"Loquita." There was a note of warning in his voice.

"I'm not trying to be a smartass." She took a deep breath. "The best thing would be to prevent the looting of sites, to begin with, but it's impossible to stop. We can't even slow it down. Arrests are few and far between, even in the United States, and when they do happen, the sentence is rarely more than a slap on the wrist. History is disappearing into private collections, and those artifacts should be in museums."

Finn put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug. "What miracles does your boss expect you to pull off?"

"Once an important relic has been identified as being up for sale, I'm expected to examine it and determine whether or not it's authentic. If it is, I negotiate to buy it."

"What?"

Zo couldn't read his tone, but Finn hadn't pulled away from her. She turned her head far enough to watch his face. His expression was calm. As if they were talking about something innocuous.

"This is a covert arm of the Paladin League," she explained quietly. "No one who works on the other side of the foundation knows exactly what our group does. It would destroy the organization if this ever came out. "

"Why? What's the problem?"

"Archaeologists and others view the purchase of stolen antiquities as encouraging the looters to continue," Zo said slowly. "They're not wrong, but it isn't that black and white. The items are already stolen, and if we don't buy them, someone else will. Do we allow hundreds of irreplaceable cultural relics to disappear into private collections?" She shrugged. "My answer is no. The artifacts are too important to vanish like that."

"And if this got out?"

Zo slumped back on the bench. "It would be a scandal of epic proportion. Everyone would move at light speed to put distance between their reputations and the Paladin League—archaeologists, donors, those who work on the legit side—and my chance to do anything in the field would be over."

Finn was quiet for a moment. "What do you do with the relics once you buy them?"

Was that a note of suspicion in his voice? "Other operatives ensure they make their way to museums, preferably in the country from which they were looted to begin with. Some end up on display and some remain under lock and key behind the scenes."

There was another long silence before Finn asked, "What about context? I thought it mattered in archaeology."

"It does matter. Unfortunately, the context was lost when the item was stolen from its site." Zo shook her head. "When I get involved, there are only two outcomes. Either the Paladin League buys the relic and gets it to a museum, or it disappears into some rich bastard's private collection, and another piece of history disappears forever."