Page 8 of Wicked Intention

Before she could respond, the bastard disconnected.

Special Forces.With a muttered curse, she let her head fall back against the door. There was only one man at the League with that training.

Finn.

Archer would call and tell him she was in over her head, and that he needed to get down to San Isidro to rescue her. Itwasn’t true. She’d been in spots almost as tough and gotten out of them without anyone rushing to save her. She could get out of this mess, too. But that wasn’t the issue.

The problem was bigger than whether or not she needed help. Finn would think she’d deliberately lied to him when she left her message, and it would really piss him off.

Chapter Three

PacAtlantic Flight 423

Present Day

FINN HAD LEFT pissed off behind about an hour ago and was deep into furious now. He’d listened to Zo’s voicemail as soon as his plane had landed at LAX, taking it at face value. Until he’d been walking up the jetway, and Archer called.

He’d had to hear fromhis bossthat Zo was in trouble.

When Finn thought about her contacting him when she knew he was in the air and the fucking message she left in that offhand tone, it raised his blood pressure into the stratosphere. As soon as he’d hit the terminal, he’d headed for the PacAtlantic flight to Rio Blanco. Archer’s admin had arranged a business class seat for him, and he had the row to himself. Thank God. The last thing he wanted to do was chat.

Finn leaned back and took a deep breath. He’d lived with Zo for two years, and he knew how her mind worked—or at least he understood her as well as any man understood hiswoman. She’d downplayed the situation, but she hadn’t lied. Zo never lied to him.

She’d likely come up with a plan to get herself out of trouble before she ever touched her mobile. He could also guess she was incensed with Archer for insisting on sending help. Zo never relied on anyone else. Not even him. She didn’t seem to realize he would willingly walk into hell for her. And it hurt.

A flight attendant interrupted his thoughts, and he slipped his tray into position for the appetizer course—salmon rolls, some soup he couldn’t identify, and a salad. As she moved to the next row, Finn reached for the spoon.

He didn’t know what was going on with Zo. Even Archer didn’t know what was happening because the damn phone hadn’t been secure, and Zo couldn’t fill him in. The only info he’d been able to share with Finn was that she’d called the emergency line, she planned to destroy her mobile, and she was headed for San Isidro. One of these things alone would have concerned him, but three of them? Yeah, he was scared, and it fueled his anger. It was easier to be pissed off than it was to worry because there was fuck-all he could do at 35,000 feet, and anything might happen to Zo while he was in the air.

Anything.

Eight more hours until he landed in Rio Blanco. The thought made his heart rate jump, and he dug deep to find control.

Zo would get herself safely to San Isidro. She was brilliant, resourceful, and determined, and he’d trained her so she could take care of herself if something happened to him. Besides, once she arrived in town, she wouldn’t be on her own. She’d have others watching out for her until he could reach her.

She’d be fine until he got there. She fucking had to be.Had to be.

It was bad timing that his former captain called rightbefore he and Zo were scheduled to fly to Rio Blanco. Finn had guessed the debrief would involve Puerto Jardin since he was there regularly, and he tried to put it off until his return, promising up-to-the-minute intel. But the captain was insistent that he come to Tampa ASAP. That pretty much guaranteed his old Special Forces team was inserting soon and didn’t have time to wait.

Needing intel had turned out to be an excuse.

Captain Nguyen wasted about ten minutes pelting him with questions about Puerto Jardin. The rest had been spent trying to convince him to work with the team as a freelancer. Damn, he’d laid it on thick—Finn was invaluable, nobody else came close to his skill at playing a role, his talent was unique, and other bullshit—but while it was tempting, he didn’t want to be called in as a contractor on every important op. Look what happenedthistime. Zo had gone alone, and now she was in trouble. Someone on the team needed to step up and replace him.

He never should have allowed Zo to go to Puerto Jardin without him.

A soft snort escaped at the thought. Right. Stop her. Like that was a possibility.

If it had been any other relic, he might conceivably have had a small chance of talking her out of the trip, maybe, but it was the Lost Disk of the Gods. Stopping Zo would have required a pair of handcuffs and a solid steel bar, and even then, she probably would have worked her way loose and gone to retrieve the artifact.

He inhaled deeply and blew out his breath silently. The disk would have disappeared if Zo had waited for him to return—Finn got that—but it underlined something that had been nagging at him for a while. She was used to taking care of herself, used to doing everything on her own. So was he Zo’s person, or did she view their relationship as temporary?

Trujillo, Puerto Jardin

27 Months Earlier

From the exterior,El Arrecifelooked like a case of food poisoning waiting to happen. Finn leaned his shoulder against the light post and studied the building across the street. It was bright orange with dark blue trim and bars over the windows. A cartoon fish grinned from beside the door, but the paint had peeled, and what was left had faded.

The restaurant couldn’t be as bad as it seemed. Silva and a phalanx of bodyguards wouldn’t be holding court here if it was. There were six with him today, two more than usual. That meant something.

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