For His Eyes Only (14 page)

The man laughed. “Prostituta?” He grabbed Jesse’s arm with an iron grip.

“
Hombre!” a man shouted from the bar.

The bartender whirled. Jesse pushed off from the bench, but Cole yanked her back. She looked sharply at him, and he responded with a slight shake of his head. She jerked her attention to the man who had shouted at the bartender. He slid from a stool and rose to his full six foot six height.

“
My friend said he didn’t want any trouble,” he said in perfect American English.

Jesse looked closer at him. She ran down the list of Cole’s men in her mind. Caruthers, Fletcher, Young, and Roush. Not a South American name in the bunch. This man spoke like an American, but looked as Columbian as any of the others in the room.

“
Americano
,” the bartender sneered.

The American leaned against the bar. “That’s right.”

The bartender took a step toward him, and Cole motioned for Jesse to move. She kept her grip on the beer bottle as she started to slide from the bench. Cole grabbed the neck of the bottle and wrenched it from her grasp. He slid it to the far end of the table, then shoved her hip with his, forcing her from the booth. The bartender crouched and the American lunged. The bartender sidestepped as two of his companions launched themselves at the American with shouts of bloodlust.

Jesse dove across the table for the beer bottle. Cole seized her arm, but this time she was prepared. She grabbed his wrist and twisted. His hold on her loosened. Before she could take the offensive, she caught the glint of a bottle flying their way. She shoved Cole to the right and dove left. The bottle whizzed between them and smashed against the wall, spraying beer and glass.

A meaty hand closed around her arm. Jesse twisted, kicking high, and slammed her feet into her attacker’s midsection. He crashed into the wall like a sack of old potatoes.

“
Cabron,” a man cried, yanking her attention onto him.

He slowly backed away from her, his wide-eyed gaze shifted from the man she had kicked to her. Jesse glanced at her attacker and understood his reaction. Her attacker outweighed the King Kong bartender by at least twenty pounds. She leaped to her feet and narrowed her eyes on the man. He spun and raced for the door.

Another patron threw a punch at Cole. The bartender had joined the attack on the American, and two other patrons were shouting encouragement. Jesse dashed for the exit.

She reached the doors, pushed through them into early dusk, then her feet snagged on something and she fell flat on her face. She started to roll away from whoever had tripped her, but was pounced upon while still on her belly. A knee dug into the middle of her back. Her cheek scraped the sidewalk. She wheezed for breath as her attacker yanked an arm behind her back. The click of handcuffs met her ears even as the cool metal registered around her wrist and in her brain.

“
Doggone it, Jess,” Cole said from the door.

A crash sounded inside the bar.

Cole’s cowboy boots came into view beside her. She craned her neck to look up at him. The last rays of golden sunlight lit the champagne strands in his sandy blond hair.

He squatted beside her. “I told you not to run.”

He gripped her wrist, shifted it from her back, then snapped the dangling handcuff to his left wrist. She was too stunned to do more than stare at their handcuffed wrist.

“
All right, Caruthers,” Cole said.

The man got off her back. Cole’s firm grip on her arm, and the handcuffed wrist, prevented her from rolling over and kicking him in the face as he pulled her to her feet. When she looked around, Caruthers was gone, the doors to the cantina just slapping shut.

Cole’s fingers intertwined with the fingers of her hand. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

Jesse suddenly realized the brawl in the tavern had intensified. She shoved her handcuffed wrist in Cole’s face. “We can’t stay like this.”

“
We won’t have to,” he replied.

“
You’ve made your point,” she said. “Unlock them.”

He shook his head. “Not until I’m sure you understand how much you need me.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Jesse glanced over her shoulder as Cole pushed through the door of the Dan Carlton hotel, pulling her with him. She turned into the blast of cool air. No sign of a tail. Not that she had expected any. Lanton’s men had no need to tail her as long as she and Cole remained handcuffed.

Cole shifted his handcuffed hand behind his back, drawing Jesse closer. She started to jerk free, then caught sight of the concierges’ desk ahead on the right. She forced a smile and wrapped her free hand around Cole’s arm. Walking down Bogata’s promenade handcuffed to one another had drawn stares, but Cole had grinned at the one American couple bold enough to stare outright, and said, “Practical joke.”

She would definitely kick his ass for this stunt. She’d tried talking him into going to her hotel—that would have brought the ass kicking on quicker and assuaged her frustration—but he’d shaken his head and said, “You shouldn’t be staying in a dump like that.”

Cole stopped in front of the elevator. He reached to push the button with his handcuffed hand.

“
Hmph.” She stumbled into his arm, then jerked back.

He looked down at her and rubbed the spot on her forehead that had struck his shoulder. “Sorry.”

Jesse pulled away as the elevator doors opened.

Cole took her hand in his. “Ready?”

You’d better ask yourself that, Tex, she thought, but only nodded.

Two minutes later, he slipped a key card into the door of his hotel room and they stepped inside. Jesse bit back the demand for the handcuff key and followed Cole to the queen sized bed. He sat down and she followed suit.

“
You’ve been running for over two months,” he said. “It’s time to stop. I’ve got a stake in this. My men gave their lives for that mission, and the people they loved weren’t given any explanations for why they died.”

Jesse stared. She’d run a dozen scenarios through her head between the cantina and the hotel, had even wondered if Lanton had nerve to be at the hotel when they arrived, but none of the possibilities had included this. Cole gave her a soft smile and anger bubbled to the top when her insides gelled.

“
You’re the only one who can make their sacrifice matter,” he added.

So this was how he planned on getting to her. Play on her sense of justice: Make sure the team’s sacrifice mattered. She wondered how many psychiatrists Lanton had consulted to get her profile down pat—she also wondered how she was going to get past the idea they were right.

Jesse stared into Cole’s blue eyes.
Careful
, she warned herself.
You could end up dead in some South American hotel room or alley where no one knows—or cares—what happens to Amanda.

Cole shifted, his arm brushing hers, and she started as if singed.

“
Talk to me, Jess,” he said.

She regarded him. “Sure, as soon as you unlock these cuffs.”

He reached into his front jeans pocket and pulled out the key. She grimaced inwardly. So close. He inserted the key into the lock and turned. The cuffs clicked open.

Jesse freed her hand, then scooted to the foot of the bed and leveled her gaze on him as she rubbed her wrist. “What do you want from me? You find me, decide I’m innocent, say you want to work together, then take me prisoner.”

Cole shook his head. “I’m not taking you prisoner. I’m just not letting you run off, guns blazing, getting yourself killed in the process.”

“
I don’t run anywhere, guns blazing,” she retorted. “I’ve been doing this a long time and I’m still alive.”

“
I know. But this time you’re running scared, and you think you’re alone.” He grasped her hand. His fingers were strong and warm, and she didn’t register the squeeze he gave until he said, “You’re not.”

Jesse yanked free. “You don’t know me.”

But he knew her better than she wanted to admit, knew she needed to know if she could have done more for his men…and Maria. She’d seen it before. A team member is lost and someone invariably takes on the responsibility for whatever went wrong. A child crosses the street and the parent is consumed with believing they should have somehow known better than to let their child go out that day. No doubt Cole had seen it too, and recognized the symptoms in her.

He gave her a patient look. “It’s been a long day. Why don’t you take a shower?”

She blinked at the sudden change in subject. Her gaze caught on his broad shoulders. She did need a long shower, along with a jet to whisk her to another continent, and a good bottle of tequila.

*****

Twenty minutes later, Jesse stood in the bathroom wrapped in a towel, examining the wounds on her leg. Shower water had softened the scabs to a pliable blemish. If she worked her cards right, Cole wouldn’t notice the scar. The time had come to change tactics. Lanton was using Cole to get to her. What prevented her from using herself to get to Cole? Her wet hair hung in thick locks across her shoulders. She tugged the towel down a fraction of an inch. Thank God for thick hair and perky breasts. She’d never had to use her body in her work—not the way she was about to—but there was a first time for everything.

She opened the bathroom door. “Cole,” Jesse called as she rounded the corner of the little hallway into the bedroom. She halted at finding the room empty.

Jesse whirled toward the door. A thrill raced through her. She was alone. She started for the bathroom where her clothes still lay on the floor, then faltered. Was this a trick? Was Cole hoping she’d get sloppy and lead them to…to what?

“
What do you want?” she shouted at the empty room, hands fisted.

What did Lanton want? Jesse’s mind snapped clear. What did Cole want? If he and Lanton were in Perez’s pocket, why not just kill her? They were in Columbia. No one would know. She had to get out. If she didn’t get out now, she didn’t have a chance. She bolted for the bathroom.

The door clicked open and Jesse stopped at sight of Cole in the doorway. He froze, a package in hand, and she remembered she wore only a towel. Her heart rate jumped to a hundred and twenty miles an hour.

“
I brought you some clothes.” Cole lifted the package an inch.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

For the hundredth time, the spaghetti strap on the yellow sundress Cole had purchased slipped down Jesse’s shoulder. The dress was a size too small and the straps were too long. The wound in her shoulder ached, she was cranky, and the scent of Cole’s shaving cream, wafting across the hotel room’s little table, wasn’t helping her concentration. He remained absorbed in reading the list of supplies she’d compiled. He hadn’t combed his hair, only run his fingers through it after showering twenty minutes ago. She wondered how many of those college girls’ fingers had tightened in his hair when he’d brought then to climax.

Cole’s eyes shifted to her. “What’s the judge’s name?” he asked. Jesse remained silent and he frowned. “All this cloak and dagger stuff isn’t necessary.”

She nearly choked. “It’s our business.”

He gave his head a single determined shake. “We’re on the same side.”

She wished she could be sure of that. She wished they were sitting on a beach in Santa Marta, drinking mai tai’s and flirting in anticipation of making love in their hotel room later on. She wished she knew who to trust.

“
Are you getting the equipment or not?” she asked.

“
Sure. I’ll get it, but we’ll still need back-up.”

“
I planned on going alone. I still can. In fact, I’d prefer it. I never intended on anyone else risking their lives.”

“
No repeats of Columbia?” he asked quietly.

She looked him square in the eye. “That’s right.”

Cole gave her a patient look and the hurt turned to a nearly overwhelming desire to cry.

“
You’re not alone, Jess.” He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. She started to pull away, then remembered her plan to seduce him. She looked away, as if overcome with emotion. It wasn’t far from the truth.

He leaned back in his chair, his hand sliding off hers. “Okay. It’s just you and me. For now. But if we need backup, I
will
call them in.”

“
No reports to Lanton,” she said.

He held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor. You call the shots. Just don’t get killed.”

Jesse jerked her gaze from his.

“
It was a joke, Jess.” Cole stood. “Get some rest. I’ll do some shopping.”

She stood. “I don’t like being in this hotel room.” She didn’t like being separated from him, either, but wasn’t sure that was a wise admission. “If Lanton doesn’t already know where we are, he will soon.”

“
He needs to think we’re working together willingly. Running will only tip him off.”

“
Or, it might make him think I’ve got something to hide. Maybe it will tip his hand and we can find out what he wants from me.”