Page 45 of Wicked Intention

“No, Señor Finley, your betrothed will answer the question, not you.”

There went her chance to cheat on this exam. Unsure what to say, Zo decided to go with the truth. “I don’t like it. I want him to give up gunrunning and find legitimate work.”

“You believe you can change him?” Silva asked.

With a shrug, Zo said, “I can try.”

The look Silva and Torres shared made Zo clench her teeth. It clearly conveyedfoolish woman. She took a long sip of coffee until a healthy dose of fear drowned out her annoyance. Had she aced this pop quiz? She glanced over at Finn, and he winked at her. It must mean she said the right thing.

“If you’re not arming Señor Bianchi, then who is?” Torres asked, dismissing her.

Finn shook his head. “I have no idea.” He didn’t say,howthe hell should I know, but Zo detected it in his tone, and from Torres’ frown, Zo suspected the older man had as well.

“Señor Finley, I suggest you find your manners. I’ve had enough of your disrespect.”

The note in Torres’ voice and the glance he cast in her direction made a shiver travel the length of Zo’s spine. Maybe she’d been unwise to think Finn could get them out of this. Putting down her cup, she clenched both arms of her chair and struggled to keep her mouth shut. No one wanted to hear from her. She was a pawn, nothing else.

“There was no disrespect intended, señor,” Finn said with more politeness. “I only heard the rumor myself mere hours before you had Zofia call me. There wasn’t time to talk to any of my contacts to learn more.”

A phone rang in the distance, and their host glanced at his watch. It stopped—someone had clearly answered it—and Torres turned toward the bodyguard standing at his right shoulder. “Señor Finley and his fiancée will be our guests tonight. Please see them to a suite.”

Without another word, Torres pushed back from the table and strode out of the room.

Staying the night? How bad was their situation? Zo looked at Finn, but his expression told her nothing. It must be worse than she thought.

Chapter Seventeen

Near San Isidro, Puerto Jardin

Present Day

FINN STRUGGLED to remain outwardly relaxed. He understood why Ski was driving as carefully as he was. The road between Trujillo and San Isidro was narrow with almost no shoulder, and every time an oncoming vehicle approached, they had to slow farther to make it safely past. The continual flow of logging trucks only made it worse, and Finn was close to blowing his rep of always being cool and in control. He needed to reach Zo. Now.

At least he was armed and fully outfitted, and the captain had told Ski to drive him to San Isidro. The offer came with strings—there’d be another sales pitch to work with his former Special Forces team, this time from his best buddy—but it got him to town hours earlier than he’d make it on his own, so he’d listen.

And then say no.

Pienkowski tapped the brakes as a pickup truckapproached, pulling Finn from his thoughts. He muttered, “There isn’t this kind of traffic when Zo and I drive to town.”

When they were past the other vehicle, Ski shot him a look but otherwise ignored the grousing. “Do they still think you’re a gunrunner in San Isidro?”

Here we go.“Why do you want to know?” Finn countered.

“Just curious.”

That was bullshit, but Finn didn’t call his friend on it. “They believe that Zo reformed me. It was too dangerous to let anyone know the truth, especially with Alfonso Ramos regularly turning up. Even the Alvarezes don’t know.”

Ski grunted. “How did San Isidro avoid being drawn into Ramos’ orbit, anyway?”

“It probably has a lot to do with Señors Alvarez, Otero, and Garcia being former members of the presidential brigade. The town declared itself neutral, and at the time, the men were young enough to enforce it. I think it became a fact of life for everyone in the area.”

“Even with their Special Forces background, it’s fucking strange. Ramos and Bianchi have their own armies.”

Finn shrugged.

The silence lasted for a while before his friend said, “The team hasn’t been able to replace you, you know. It takes a certain mindset for covert ops, and to do what you did…?” He scowled. “We’re on the third guy now—the first two bailed and returned to regular teams—and number three is struggling, too. We could use your help on this one.”

“No.”

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