Gina Takes Bangkok (The Femme Vendettas) (37 page)

While she wanted nothing more than to be by his side, she was needed elsewhere to deal with the rakshasas. Her time was soon consumed with plotting, planning, wheedling, worrying. She tried to visit Kannon when she could. For lunch or after supper. Hospital fare made him convert to street food until he nearly died again from heartburn. But damned if he was going to give up his hot and spicy.

Once it was 2 a.m. before she could visit him. She had needed to see him, even if it was only to look at him sleeping. He anchored her.

She’d snuck in, actually had a pair of scrubs for this sort of situation. The bodyguards posted outside Kannon’s room giving her nods of recognition as she’d come down the hallway.

Kannon had been awake, the overhead light set on low.

“Hey,” she whispered. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“At least I’m in bed. What are you doing up?”

“Had to tuck you in, baku. Sorry I’m late.”

“That’s not answering my question.”

“There was a hit tonight. Ten more of the bastards sent to the morgue.”

His hand covered hers at the same time he ground out, “You didn’t tell me. Ryota know?”

“He led the charge. I told him not to tell you. You’d worry.”

“Me not knowing what I’m supposed to worry about worries me.” His hold remained gentle, a counterpoint to his sharp words. “There’ll be consequences.”

“Fewer and fewer each day. We’re killing them twice as fast as they can send reinforcements. Got the home ground advantage and the way you trained Ryota, he’s like a one-man army.”

“I should be out there.”

“You should be healing up,” she corrected. “You’re exactly where you need to be.”

His hand became restless on hers, his thumb playing over her palm. His dark eyes, warm and troubled, rose to hers. “Thank you for taking care of things while I’ve been laid up here.”

“I’m glad to do it.”

“I’m just sorry you had to deal with Victoria. She was my responsibility. I don’t want what happened to drive a wedge between us. I’ve been worried that it has.”

For a split second, Gina wondered what on earth he was talking about, before she realized he was referring to her confession on board
The Pink Pussycat
. She wiggled her butt onto his bed, stretched herself over him, her hand tucked against his hip, her exact position on the plane ride over. Except this time, seduction wasn’t on her mind.

“Is that what’s keeping you up, baku? Truth is, I’m glad it was me. I’m the one who made the promise to Jarun, so it was right I be the one to keep it. And that’s the difference. That was always the difference. Darae pushed me to do something that I knew was wrong. Killing Victoria was anything but.”

Kannon grunted, apparently still unhappy with himself.

Gina bit the inside of her cheek hard to keep away a sudden smile. He could be such a grouch. She bent close, her lips hovering over his. “Well, how about you do something else for me then?”

Their kisses in the hospital up to now had been dry taps on the mouth. This one was different. Here in the illicit quiet, they came together in a long and thorough and tender kiss. By its sweet end, she had melted into him, warm and damp, one leg cramped up on the bed, her heart pounding.

“One kiss from you,” she said, “is like a round of hot sex with anyone else.”

“I don’t think so.” He took her hand and guided it down the sheets. “Don’t think we should be feeling this after a round.”

Okay, seduction was back on her mind.

“I could take care of that for you.” She began to edge the sheet down but he pulled it back up. “Not until the third date.”

That was the first time since the shooting he’d mentioned the third date, the first time he’d indicated that they had any kind of future beyond the hospital. “Still got big plans for us?”

“I do.”

“Tell me.”

He skimmed his hand over her ass, up the bend of her spine till his fingers nestled in her hair. “You’ll find out soon enough. For now, you’ve got a city to save, and I’ve got wounds to heal.”

She’d left that night, in love. Of course, she had loved the infuriating man for a while now. She loved him and wanted to be with him forever. And she hadn’t even had sex with him. Not that she needed to; they’d be way compatible. It was that the Gina from L.A. wouldn’t ever have considered going long-term with anyone unless a solid foundation of good sex had been laid. The Gina from Bangkok was good with a promise.

Or so the Gina of the 2 a.m. kiss thought. Then Kannon started to really recover. He got hold of a phone.

“Where are you at?” he’d say and she’d fill him in. He gave advice when it came to her dealings with the gangs. When it came to her personal life, it was nothing but orders.

“You wearing that bulletproof vest Darae got you?”

“Ryota’s on his way over with motion detectors for your balcony.”

“You eating right?”

“Go home.”

“Go to sleep.”

Third date. My place. Map attached.

Sheesh. Was this what it was like to be in love? Putting up with a bossy, grumpy, secretive man who deliberately withheld sex? Given that one part of her brain was already calculating how long it would take to get to his place, it was.

She rose up on her knees and took down a square of laminated paper propped up against the vixen figurine. It turned out her father had written her a poem that she’d discovered in a safety deposit box along with his will.

Her father was no poet. The rhythm jolted, the phrasing was awkward, but it spoke of their love of small things. Their walks through the markets, her face tucked to his side, the fruity smell of her hair, the shared iced mango. And her laughter that made him feel that he’d done at least one right thing in his life.

She returned the paper to its rightful place. She stood, blew a kiss to her father, another to Pricha, then typed a message:
Coming, baku.

Kannon’s home was a clearing in the jungle. A narrow twisting track brought her to an opening where his SUV faced out for a quick getaway. She parked nose-to-nose in front of it. The house itself was a white stucco bungalow surrounded by a modest orchard of orange trees. As she rang the doorbell, a giant dog loped across the yard, lifted his leg on her back wheel, then joined her on the welcome mat.

They weren’t kept long. Kannon swung open the door and the dog stepped in. Gina stared. Her date wasn’t wearing a suit. He wasn’t even going for semi-formal. He wore a Hawaiian shirt, light brown cargo shorts, and sandals. His good clothes. He gave her a huge smile, and his eyes were on her in a way that made her feel she’d drunk a glass of wine. Or two.

She gave a low bow. “Uh, hello, there. I was looking for someone named Kannon. Badass in a suit. Wears sunglasses. Know where he’s at?”

Still smiling, he bowed in return. “Maybe I can help you.” He stepped aside and gestured for her to enter.

Gina did, glancing around, then moseyed on over to Kannon. “I was instructed to meet him here. Sounded very urgent.”

Both of his arms wrapped warm and solid around her. “I’m sure he won’t mind if—”

There was a loud crash and a shriek from the back of the house. Kannon closed his eyes and reopened them on a sigh. “Time for you to meet my daughter, Zoe.”

He led the way through the open layout to balcony doors at the back. Gina quickly noted a pink bean bag chair, a deep cushioned leather couch, a wall picture of a little girl on a giant tortoise. Then they were on the back deck, Kannon moving to the railing. “Everything okay out here?” he called.

Gina caught a glimpse of a sliver of blue water, a swath of thick jungle and then she was at the railing, too, looking down into the backyard. It was punched out from the surrounding jungle and dipped sharply away from the house into a kind of zoo. A tortoise with a shell the size of a manhole cover strolled about, a tall white leggy bird had a beady eye on a fish pond, two parrots cawed and ma-cawed from posts above the scene. Geckos scurried and songbirds hopped. In the middle of it was a young woman with black braids wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat and tall rubber boots, and looking up at them.

Zoe’s eyes darted to Gina and her mouth dropped open.

“Hi,” greeted Gina, “Quite the menagerie you’ve got back here.”

Zoe appeared dazed. Then, she surveyed her surroundings. “Oh, I don’t keep them. They come and go. It’s feeding time.” She glanced down at the tortoise. “Except for Darwin. He won’t leave, like ever. And the animal police came and wanted to confiscate him and fine us but then Daddy”—Zoe stopped—“but then they changed their minds.”

“What was that noise?” Kannon said.

Outrage flooded Zoe’s face. “Those freaking monkeys tore through and grabbed Darwin’s papaya. Again.”

Kannon stretched his neck the way that Gina had always put down to his tie being constrictive. “And where’s that damn snake of yours?”

“Don’t know exactly. I think she’s up there.” Zoe pointed to the roof. Kannon leaned his elbows on the balcony railing and turned to Gina. “How do you feel about wildlife?”

Gina kicked off her high heels and headed for the steps. “I don’t know. Let’s find out.” And in a louder voice to Zoe, “Could you show me around?”

She came across the backyard barefoot, and Zoe squawked, “Careful! There’re scorpions everywhere. Not the real poisonous kind. It’s just that if they sting, your foot will swell up.”

A pair of men’s rubber boots landed at Gina’s feet. “Put them on,” Kannon ordered, and Gina didn’t argue.

Properly attired in a skimpy sundress and rubber boots, Gina began her tour with Kannon’s girl. Zoe was so alive, her face so animated, her hands dancing in the air or busy stirring up the birdseed or twisting her hat about. With all her movement it was no wonder she was as skinny as a chopstick. Once when Gina was peering into the bushes to spot the elusive ‘stick’ insect, she caught Zoe staring at her with the same awe as earlier. Zoe reddened and switched her focus to the balcony. Kannon was still there, still resting his elbows on the rail and looking down at them with a soft expression.

“I think he’s looking at you,” Gina whispered.

“Uh-huh. You.”

At that moment, something long, green and very snake-y spiraled through the air and landed on Gina. The recently appointed chair of the Bangkok underworld screamed long and loud as a meter-long snake slithered and wound itself about her shoulders and arms. Zoe, too, joined in the screaming.

“Careful, she’s agitated. No! Don’t touch her tail. She doesn’t like it. Here, let me—careful!”

All at once, Zoe grabbed the serpent about its head and midsection, and shoved it into the nearest bush.

Kannon was slumped over the balcony railing, laughing his head off.. Zoe’s mouth pressed into a thin line.

“He thinks the stupidest stuff is funny,” she informed Gina out of the side of her mouth.

Gina side-mouthed back, “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never heard him laugh before.”

Zoe reached for an overturned metal pan Gina had stepped into during her snake struggles. “Get used to it.” She froze at what her words implied, and her eyes went wide. “That is—if—you want to.” Her voice was a whisper.

Kannon was doing a poor job of trying to get a hold of himself, his attempts at coherent speech seriously impeded. Gina didn’t know how it was she could feel so exasperated and so connected to him. She whispered back, “I want to.”

Zoe immediately unfroze and returned to her former hyper-animated state. “Next time, I’ll hold the snake and you can get a better look at her. She’s a paradise tree snake. They fly in this swirly, spirally way. It’s quite amazing, considering—”

Her eyes went owl-ly again. This time in horror. “Shit. Shoot. Daddy! Look at my phone. Are there any messages? It’s on the table.”

Kannon sobered enough to get on with it. “Tasanee. Ten minutes ago. Said she was on her way.”

“Shit! Shoot!” Zoe sprung away, peeling off hat, gloves and shoes as she went, her dad barking at her to pick them up so the scorpions wouldn’t get inside them again, her retracing her steps to obey, racing inside, Kannon in tow, dispensing lessons in time management and sartorial advice that would’ve had Zoe dressed like a Mennonite.

Gina stepped into Zoe’s bedroom and drew a deep, steadying breath. “I’ll take care of this,” she said to Kannon, and shut the door in his face.

It was a challenge. Zoe’s wardrobe was chaotic to say the least. In the end, she had Zoe outfitted in something that would do for going to a movie, hanging out with friends of mixed gender and walking Sumkhovit Road. There was a knock on the bedroom door. It was Tasanee, looking like a runway model in her short dress and heels.

With Tasanee’s help, they got Zoe out the front door, where her father put her through the drill regarding itinerary, curfew, cell phone usage, and a general reminder about the perversity of all males and the importance of determining one’s own path, concluding with a tender message of support: “Movie. Dinner. Market. Darae’s by 11:30. Call me. Boys are stupid. Don’t be stupid. Hug, kiss, go.”

Zoe fulfilled the last three orders automatically, and was halfway to Tas’s car when she stopped and turned. “Bye, Gina. It was nice meeting you.”