Page 44 of Wicked Intention

Shrugging, Zo said, “The theory is that some catastrophic event forced them to flee their city and they were absorbed into other societies. It would explain the lore being known in the area, but what’s fascinating is their art is unique. This style of stone carving hasn’t been seen anywhere else in the Americas.”

A few members of Torres’ staff came and cleared the dishes off the table. Coffee cups were placed in front of themand filled efficiently. Quietly. There wasn’t so much as a clink of silverware against porcelain.

“So,” Torres said slowly, “if they did merge into other civilizations, why wasn’t their influence seen in the art of those societies?”

“Exactly,” Zo said and nodded. “If more work could be—”

A bodyguard walked into the room. “Señor Finley,” the man announced an instant before Finn appeared in the door. He was escorted by four burly guys.

Zo began to stand, wanting to be near Finn, but the man guarding her pressed her back into her seat. She clutched the arms of her chair to hide her shaking. Finn was here, and he’d had no reason to come.

“Ah, Señor Finley,” Torres said, gesturing to the chair next to Zo. “You’ve missed dinner, but you’ll join us for dessert.” It wasn’t a suggestion.

When he was seated to her right, Finn’s hand found hers and squeezed. It shook Zo’s composure, and she fought the urge to cry. The only thing she could think, over and over, was he’d come for her when he easily could have left her to fend for herself.

Torres gestured toward a bodyguard, and the man disappeared for a moment. On his heels, the kitchen staff returned with dessert.Tres lechescake. It looked delicious, but Zo wondered if she’d manage to choke any down. Finn’s presence was a relief, but it also added to her stress. She needed to protect him because this situation was her fault. If she hadn’t claimed to be his fiancée, they wouldn’t have grabbed her and used her to force him here.

“Your betrothed is a charming and educated woman,” Torres said once everyone had dessert, and the staff had withdrawn. “The wonder is what she sees in you.”

Finn’s lips curved at the insult. “Sometimes, a man can only thank God for miracles.”

His tone made her pause before reaching for her fork. He’d sounded cocky. Not over the line to insolent, but it had her looking at Torres from under her lashes as she tried to judge his reaction. His lips had thinned, and he appeared displeased.

“As I was saying, Jorge,” Zo jumped in, “if—”

“How is your cake, loquita?”

She smiled, trying to convey she got the message. Finn wanted her to keep her mouth shut. Zo took a bite of dessert and managed to swallow past the constriction in her throat. “It’s delicious.”

It probably was fabulous, but Zo was too anxious to taste anything. Putting her faith in someone else didn’t come easily for her, and it was twice as hard to give up control to a mercenary, a man who had fluid allegiances. She’d dealt with some shady people as part of her job, but no one as dangerous as these men.

Remember, Finn didn’t have to show up.She knew it, and she was aware she was out of her league in this situation. There was no choice except to trust him to maneuver them safely out of it.

No matter how difficult it was.

“I hear rumors that Señor Bianchi has found a new source for his arms,” Torres said conversationally.

Zo tensed, and to keep herself quiet, she took another bite of cake.

“I heard the same thing,” Finn said, “from Señor Ramos. Indirectly.”

“Indirectly?” Silva questioned, his voice hard.

“Ramos approached my fiancée during the nativity celebration in San Isidro and made threats. Unnecessary, because I’m not selling to Bianchi or anyone else for that matter.”

“You were unhappy with Señor Torres’ offer of thirty percent,” Silva said.

Finn shrugged. “So I sell you more arms and make up thedifference in volume. Like I said the first time we talked, Señor Silva, I would rather earn less money and live to enjoy it. Nothing has changed.”

Her stomach heaved, but it had nothing to do with fear. Finn spoke casually of selling arms to Torres as if it were nothing. Maybe she needed the reminder. Zo put down her fork and reached for her coffee.

When she’d found out Mari had become Silva’s mistress, Zo had been angry. And self-righteous, so certain she’d never look past a man’s character for any reason the way her friend had. Then she’d met Finn, and Zo had allowed attraction to blind her to who and what he was. If she ever found her friend, she owed her an apology for her lack of understanding. Zo got it now.

“Zofia,” Torres said, catching Zo’s attention. His brown eyes were guarded when she met his gaze. “What do you think of your fiancé’s career?”

It was a test of some kind. Zo recognized that, but she didn’t know what the correct answer was. She hesitated.

“She—” Finn started but was cut off.

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