Page 61 of Wicked Ambition

“Are you sure? I don’t want to distract you.”

As if her constant questions weren’t a distraction. “Right now I’m mostly driving and checking the rearview mirror. If things change and I need to focus, I’ll let you know.”

There was a brief pause. Oz knew Ayla well enough by now to realize this wasn’t good. He braced himself.

“Will you tell me about your parents? Why are they in prison?”

If he hadn’t prepared himself for whatever she was about to bring up, Oz probably would have swerved into oncoming traffic. Of all the stupid things to share with her, anything about his family was at the top of the list. At the moment, he couldn’t remember why he did it, but damn, he wished he could call back that admission. The silence felt heavy, but he didn’t have words to deflect her.

Ayla touched his thigh lightly, her fingers there and gone in an instant. “It’s not only curiosity. At some point, you’re going to bring our baby to meet your parents. I want to know what our child is going to be dealing with.”

Taking a deep breath, Oz relaxed his grip on the steering wheel and glanced in the mirror. No Russian chase car behind them, saving him from this conversation. “It was white-collar crime,” he said, voice tight. “Nothing that will hurt our kid.”

Oz would fucking make sure of it. His parents might have used him in their shit, but he’d protect his son or daughter no matter what it took.

Shifting toward him as much as her seat belt would allow, Ayla waited.

Fuck it. “My parents are grifters, always pulling some kind of con. Before I was old enough to start school, it was simple stuff, like pretending to be homeless.” He shot a quick glance at Ayla. “I’m not talking penny-ante stuff. I’m pretty sure they were raking in some big money because not only did we live in an affluent suburb, but my parents each drove a Mercedes.”

“At that age, you couldn’t have understood what was happening.”

“I didn’t. I figured it out later when I was older. By then, my parents were deep into the biggest and most successful con game of their lives. Unfortunately for them, their free ride hit a snag when they were convicted of mail fraud and tax evasion.”

Ayla’s hand rested on his thigh again, and this time it stayed. “How old were you when they were arrested?”

“Fifteen. They were worth hundreds of millions of dollars by then. We had a private jet, a gated mansion, staff, the whole nine yards.” Oz checked the mirror and then risked a glance at Ayla. “I’d figured them out long before then and distanced myself as far as I could from their games. I wasn’t always successful, but the older I got, the less useful I was to them. A little boy is more helpful in the long con than a teenager who’s starting to shave.”

She squeezed his leg, the gesture one of support. “They must have hired the best lawyers available. They couldn’t avoid prison?”

Oz shook his head. “They were arrogant. Careless. Their lawyers kept them out of prison for more than three years, but the case against them was overwhelming. I was already in the Army when they were sentenced. Some appeals dragged on after that, but they didn’t win any of them.” He put his right hand over hers and ran his thumb over her knuckles. “They’ll eventually be out on parole, but trust me, Pollita, there’s no way in hell I’mletting them near our kid.” He winced over the fierceness of his voice. That was going to raise questions.

“Did they hurt you to force you into their schemes?” Ayla asked with enough vehemence to suggest she might go to war on his behalf if the answer was yes.

He was six-three and outweighed her by at least eighty pounds. It had been a dozen years since he’d left his parents and their lifestyle behind to join the Army. Despite this, the woman carrying his baby was ready to defend the boy he’d been. Yeah. He curved his fingers around hers, wordlessly telling her what that meant to him.

“No, it was mostly neglect, especially when I was too old to be any help in their goals.” From the corner of his eye, Oz read her concern. “Relax, Pollita. I had a nanny once they were pulling in the big bucks, food to eat, and clothes to wear. I had it better than a lot of kids.”

Reaching out with her other hand, Ayla traced the tattoo on his hand with her index finger. “The symbol for new beginnings, you said.”

He wasn’t surprised she remembered. He’d learned not to underestimate his woman. “I got it after I made it through boot camp. My parents routinely used me in their cons. I needed the reminder that I wasn’t part of that any longer.”

“You weren’t part of it long before boot camp,” Ayla said adamantly. “You distanced yourself, you said. Did everything you could to stay out of it.”

Sliding his hand free, he returned it to the wheel and checked the rearview mirror again. “I grew up manipulating people. I still do it. Sometimes it’s deliberate. Like when my buddy nearly blew it with the woman he fell in love with and needed a push to make the right decision. I call that using my powers for good.” Swallowing hard, Oz admitted, “There are other times, though, when I don’t realize I’m doing it. That’s what scares me.”

After a moment of consideration, Ayla said slowly, “You said you got the tattoo on your hand so you could look at it when you needed the reminder. This is your why.”

“It’s one of them.”

She gave his thigh another squeeze and sat back. “If I see you using your powers for evil, I’ll call you on it. But Oz? I’m not worried.”

Manipulating herwasusing his powers for good, but she wouldn’t see it that way if she figured it out. He didn’t mean to issue a warning, but the words escaped before he could censor himself. “Maybe you should be.”

She shook her head. “No. I might not know where you grew up or what your favorite color is, but I knowwhoyou are. I trust you. Not only with my life but with our baby’s life as well.”

He considered her words. Maybe she did know who he was. Maybe she’d understand why he lied to her if she learned what he’d done. When they met, she’d seen beyond his rough appearance. Ayla spent the night with him, and while she’d been nervous, it hadn’t been because of him. It had been because she wasn’t a woman who did hookups. She trusted him again when she got to Puerto Jardin.

Traffic picked up, and while they weren’t quite on the outskirts of Trujillo yet, they were getting close. Maybe they got lucky and Vargas had kept Petrova busy for a while. Not that he would let down his guard. He knew better than to?—

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