Page 17 of Wicked Intention

Zo tried to keep her mouth shut, but the words escaped anyway. “Why the hell did you decide to hire out?”

He shrugged. “The military is the only thing I know.”

“Then you should have stayed in the Army.”

“Pay’s better here.”

She huffed out a loud breath, pissed that she’d said anything. Had she really thought he was in it for something other than money? What a sap. “As long as the pay’s better, who cares about the innocent people in Puerto Jardin? Are you in town to see if you can hire on with Ramos? There’s probably more financial gain for you in narcotics than war.”

His neutral expression slipped for an instant, but his voice was level when he asked, “You think I’d deal drugs?”

“Why not? If the pay’s better, it doesn’t matter how you earn it.”

The mercenary stared at her, then shook his head. “You might not think much of me, but I draw the line at drugs.”

“Then you must be down here to sell arms to Al.” Zoglared at him. “That’s not going to work. He’s never going to anger Torres, his long-term supplier, for a one-off deal.”

Finley didn’t say anything, his expression carefully blank, and Zo’s brain made a couple of jumps. “Wait a second,” she said. “You’re not interested in selling guns to Ramos. You just want Silva to think you are. Why—?” She stopped short. “Silva is taking too long to get back to you, and you have a deadline for making the deal.”

He didn’t react.

“Son of a bitch! That means some of Torres’ men are in San Isidro. This town might not mean anything to you, but it means something to me. It means something to its residents, and you deliberately led gangsters here because an arms deal was moving too slowly for you.”

The mercenary grabbed her wrist before she could leap to her feet. “If you think Torres didn’t already know about San Isidro, then you’re not as smart as I thought. I guarantee he checked out everything about Ramos before he sold him the first M4. Torres isn’t interested in some backwater in the rainforest. There’s no benefit to him or his organization.” He tightened his hold when Zo tried to pull free. “Put your emotions aside and think.”

Zo glared at him, but it only took a moment to realize he was right. Torres wasn’t some small-time operator, and San Isidro offered him nothing—not location, not resources. “If anyone gets hurt, I’m holding you responsible.” This time when she tugged, he released her.

“It’ll be fine. Trust me.”

Trust him?She shook her head and took a deep breath to calm down. “Well, at least I don’t have to warn you about how dangerous Al is.” She leaned back against the bench, and after a moment of quiet, she said, “You could use the GI bill to attend college.”

“I already did.”

That surprised her, and she straightened, turning to face him again. “Did you graduate?”

Finley nodded. “My degree is in political science.”

She scrutinized him briefly before deciding he was telling the truth. “So you can understand the reasons behind the conflicts you’re hired to fight in?”

He smiled. Not a grin, but more than the slight curve of his lips that she’d seen previously. “You don’t give up, do you?”

Since she’d already mentioned people’s lives without fazing him, Zo gestured off to her right. “If you head that direction, you’ll end up at the Huarona ruins, the site my parents and Doctor Castillo were in charge of. There are only two identified Huarona locations, and almost nothing is known about the civilization. The civil war ended the study of who those people were. No one will issue grant money for work in Puerto Jardin while there’s shooting going on, and without financing...” She shrugged.

“Maybe it’s a good thing no one is working. I heard a rumor the government is selling antiquities to finance the war.”

“That’s more than a rumor.” Zo’s stomach twisted as she thought about the history lost into private collections. And Torres and his organization were suspected of aiding and abetting the government by brokering the deals. Bastards.

Her shoulder brushed Finn’s, but she didn’t shift away. His touch left her tingly, and she liked the sensation.

They sat in silence for a while, then he said, “Zo?”

“What?”

“What’s your interest in Henri Silva?”

She’d been so lost in hearing him say her name that the question took her off guard. Zo nearly told him her best friend was missing. The idea of having his help to find her was tempting, but in the next heartbeat, she realized he could use the information to buy favor with Silva, and she couldn’t trust a mercenary not to sell her out. “None of your business.”

Zo got to her feet, but before she could leave, he stood, too, and blocked her path. “Don’t get in his way. Silva will hurt you, and he won’t care you’re a woman.”

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