Page 81 of Wicked Intention

Or the right size to hide a golden artifact.

“Carlos,” Vargas ordered.

The man kicked the rock aside and smiled. He bent down.

It was twilight, not far from dusk, but the Disk of the Gods seemed to catch the light, and the face in the center glowed eerily. Then it winked out. Finn tensed, preparing to freehimself from his captors even if it hurt like a son of a bitch, but a pistol against his temple made him freeze.

“Do not move, Señor Finley,” Vargas said. “My orders are to keep you and your wife alive, but I can hurt her without killing her. If you cause trouble, that is exactly what I’ll do.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Alfonso Ramos’ Estate

Present Day

NOTHING WAS CLEARER to Finn the next morning. They’d let Zo keep the disk, and the two of them had been escorted to a suite of rooms more appropriate for guests than prisoners.

Although maybe it was a jail cell with all the fucking electronics in it. While he’d left the bedroom and sitting room alone, it had taken him half an hour to clear the bathroom of cameras and microphones last night. He’d tossed the shit on a chair near the door and had waited for Ramos to send someone to reinstall it. That hadn’t happened, and it raised more questions.

Yanking the spy gear had been a risk, but he was damned if he’d let Ramos’ men ogle Zo while she showered or used the bathroom. And when he’d given her the okay, she’d washed off the mud and had gone to bed.

More like crashed as soon as she hit the sheets.

She hadn’t eaten, but Finn had decided she needed sleep more than food. But that was another puzzle. Dinner had been served in their room on an elegant cart. It was one what-the-fuck moment after the next. His brain spun through possibilities as he showered, but nothing made sense. If he were on his own, he’d roll with it and see what happened, but Zo was involved.

Closing his eyes, he turned his face up to the water and let it sluice over him. The quest for peace lasted about twenty seconds before the door to the bathroom opened. It was Zo.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes. I wanted to talk.” With a frown, she sat on the marble surrounding the bathtub facing the clear glass of the shower, the disk clutched in both hands. She’d slept with the damn thing under her pillow last night.

Finn reached for the shampoo. She’d taken a second shower this morning and was dressed in faded jeans and a purple polo shirt, her damp hair braided, so he was pretty sure she hadn’t come in to join him. Not like he would allow her to do that if it had been her purpose. Things were too shaky to be distracted. “Why are you here?” he asked as he rubbed his scalp.

“You warned me the bedroom was bugged.”

She’d deliberately misunderstood the question. “Come on, loquita, stop hedging.”

Her sigh was audible over the running water. “I know I was out of it last night, but running through what I remember…” she hesitated. “I don’t get it. Why aren’t we dead? Why am I holding the Disk of the Gods, and not Al? Do you understand what’s going on?”

He took a moment to rinse the shampoo from his hair before he said, “I don’t understand a damn thing. You sure you have no idea? You know Ramos better than I do.”

Zo dropped her gaze to the disk and ran her thumb over the surface in a gentle caress. “I’m not sure anyone knowshim, not anymore. The unpredictability is part of what makes him scary.” She frowned. “Wanting the disk makes sense. His grandfather spent his life looking for it, and Al and I spent three summers searching ourselves.”

Finn let the silence linger as he continued his shower. What they’d talked about wasn’t enough reason for Zo to wander in here, but he didn’t press her. The quiet didn’t last long.

“Did you notice Al got the size right on the clothes he gave us?”

The comment stopped him mid-suds. Ramos had put more planning into this than Finn had accounted for. “And he went with stuff we’d actually wear,” he said slowly. Like jeans. He’d even picked a shirt color that Zo would have chosen herself if she’d been shopping. The more he thought about it, the less he liked it.

Finn finished washing up, turned off the water, and stepped from the shower. He’d left a towel on the tub, and Zo took a hand off the disk to pass it to him. “Al even provided the same brand of bra and panties I wear.”

He muttered a curse under his breath. Finn didn’t like hearing that, and howthe fuckdid Ramos know what Zo liked for undergarments anyway?

Tying the towel around his waist, he went to the vanity, opening each drawer. It took a force of will not to shut them hard when he didn’t find what he wanted, but damn it, some drug lord knew Zo’s panty size and preference.

“What are you looking for?” She’d trailed after him, hovering off to his side.

“A razor.” He closed the final drawer, not surprised he didn’t find one.

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