Page 48 of Wicked Intention

“Zo said, ‘Yes, did you want to make it difficult?’” And then he’d lifted her onto the kitchen island, and there’d been no more talking for a while, but Finn wasn’t sharing this part.

“Of course, you said no, because you’d gotten what you wanted without having to battle for it.” Ski smirked and thenlaughed. “Yeah, you got what you wanted, but it ended up being a double-edged sword because youareunsure of her.”

“There’s nothing funny about this,” Finn growled.

Ski laughed harder. “God, this is rich. You’ve always smoothly maneuvered through every relationship you’ve been in while everyone else on the team struggled, including me. Then you found your person, and you fucked up as badly as the rest of us.”

“Did I laugh when you messed things up with the hellcat?”

“No, but you wanted to. You have better control than I do.” Ski sobered. “I don’t know if this is any consolation, but if Zo didn’t want you around, you wouldn’t be there. That woman gets shit done.”

Yes, she did, and she handled everything on her own. That was part of what had him uneasy. He wanted her to need him, but she needed no one.

Chapter Eighteen

Near Trujillo, Puerto Jardin

27 Months Earlier

AS FAR AS PRISONS went, Zo couldn’t complain. Torres had put them in a suite for the night, but he’d sent a bodyguard shortly after breakfast to get Finn. Now, she’d finished dinner and hadn’t seen anyone for most of the day except the man watching her door and the staff member who’d brought her meals.

Zo paced to the windows and gazed out into the deepening twilight. She had a view of the side yard, but the estate was at a high enough elevation that she could see the lights of Trujillo below. She rested her forehead against the glass. She wanted to get out of here and return to San Isidro.

Where was Finn?

He hadn’t cut his own deal and abandoned her. Maybe she was stupid to trust a mercenary, but he came when she called, and he’d watched over her since they met. Last night she’d expected him to put some moves on her since they weresharing a bed, but he slept on top of the blankets so she’d feel safe. So she’d understand he wouldn’t force her into anything.

A mercenary and a gentleman—there was a combination she’d never expected to see.

Zo whirled as the door to the room opened. The guard inclined his head. “Señor Torres would like you to join him for coffee.”

She went from bored and restless to terrified in an instant. “Sí,” she said, but Zo took a moment to calm her nerves. Her job required her to meet with illegal antiquity brokers, and they were shady characters. She’d learned to control her fear to deal with them, and she needed that same self-command now.

The back patio was as lavish as the house. Lights were placed strategically to ensure she could see well enough not to trip, and more light spilled from the mansion’s windows. The guard led her to a table in front of an elaborately carved fireplace. It sat against a curved wall, two tall, round, narrow planters on either side, hiding the large gaps.

Silva and Torres stared at her as she approached with her guard, but Finn stood. She could feel his gaze sliding over her, assessing her wellbeing. He gestured to the other half of the love seat he was occupying at the table and waited until she was seated before sitting again. “How was your day, loquita?” he asked, his gaze locked with hers.

“Mostly tedious and punctuated by delicious food. How was yours?”

Finn seemed to relax at her answer. “Productive.”

Torres waved away the man who’d escorted her. “Apologies, Zofia, for your confinement. Business is the province of men, and you’d have been bored.”

Zo opened her mouth, thought better of lecturing him, and settled for saying, “I understand.”

She looked over at Finn, but his expression and body language told her nothing. The atmosphere felt pleasant, so hemust have convinced Torres that he hadn’t double-crossed him. Zo jumped when someone reached past her, but the woman did nothing except place a plate ofpie de limónin front of her. Another woman put a saucer and coffee cup down on her right side. Zo leaned back as the coffee was poured.

The pie was delicious, and she started to relax as the men talked about soccer. She was about halfway through her dessert when Torres addressed her again. “You received your undergraduate degree at Harvard. Why did you move to UCLA for your graduate degrees?”

It was hard to swallow, and Zo reached for her coffee cup, both to wash down the dessert and to buy herself time. She’d realized last night that she’d been investigated, but he must have received more information in the past twenty-four hours. “My parents decided it was the best school for me to attend for my master’s and doctorate degrees. It would be difficult to concentrate on pre-Columbian archaeology at Harvard without taking any classes taught by my mother or father.”

“Ah, conflict of interest.”

Zo nodded, but she cast a surreptitious glance at Silva. His face remained inscrutable, and she had a bad feeling. The fact that she could feel the tension in Finn’s body told her she was right to be concerned.

“It seems you and Henri have a mutual friend,” Torres continued.

Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit.“Really?” Zo asked, trying not to sound as scared as she felt.

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