“Move aside,” the third hostile ordered.
When the guy pinning him moved, Jonas rolled over, hooked his leg around the guy’s neck, and flipped him into the sliding glass doors.
April shrieked.
Jonas turned toward her, and the found himself eye to prong with a stun gun. The third hostile grinned and zapped him with two million volts of electricity. The searing pain rippled through his body for a solid five seconds before he was numb to everything but sight and sound.
As he lay impotent on the floor, the hostile with the stun gun dragged April to the wooden chair he’d placed in the center of the room facing the door. She cried out when he yanked her arms behind her back and bound her wrists with rope. He wrapped more rope snuggly around her waist. Jonas could do nothing but lay on the floor as useless as a limp dick and watch the scene unfold through his peripheral vision.
The way the hostiles moved in unison without discussion indicated they were far too skilled and efficient to be working for a local mobster. Could they be with Donovan Mika? Or had Albatross figured out Jonas was a mole? The arms dealer was capable of something like this, but would Philip Linus be willing to scare the shit out his daughter?
Nothing was out of the question.
The hostile with the stun gun pulled a syringe out of his fanny pack and removed the cap. What now? Death by lethal injection? Jonas hated failing her like this. Even though his objective didn’t include protecting her, he still felt obliged to keep her safe. She was an innocent in all of this, not to mention the mother of his kid. He’d never known anyone with April’s pure and gentle nature and doubted he ever would. She didn’t deserve to be tortured and murdered and left for alligator bate in the Florida Everglades.
The hostile stabbed the syringe into April’s arm, and she yelped.
In his head, Jonas growled and strained at the invisible bindings holding him immobile. In reality, he didn’t move a hair.
“The serum should take effect quickly,” the hostile said, as he capped the syringe and returned it to his fanny pack. “Invite her in.”
The first hostile was on his feet again. As he opened the door, a very petite woman appeared. Masked like the others and dressed in black from head to toe, she went to April first to examine her eyes. “She’s almost ready. What about him?”
“I zapped him good. He’ll be like that for a while.”
She snorted. “Don’t bet on it. Tie him up. Hands in front where we can see them.”
Jonas was hauled into a chair alongside April and strapped in.
The masked woman bent toward April again and removed her gag. “How are you doing, April?”
“Good.” April gave her a dopey smile. “I’m glad that gag is gone. It tasted like an armpit.”
“Sorry about that. If you cooperate, you won’t need to wear it again.” The woman shoved the gag at one of her men and crouched in front of the chair.
“I can’t see your face,” April said with a furrowed brow.
“Do you know who I am?”
“Someone who likes to ski?”
“Exactly.”
April grinned as if pleased with herself for guessing correctly.
“You can call me Diana. I need you to be completely honest with me, April. Do you think you can do that?”
“I can do that.” She nodded. “But I can’t tell you all of my secrets. That would be very very bad.”
Truth serum. Jonas mentally frowned. They used it on her but not on him. Either they didn’t think he had anything important to say or they knew he was immune to it.
They were spooks. Had to be.
“Why would sharing your secrets with me be bad?”
“Because people I care about will get hurt.” April’s face crinkled as if she might cry.
The masked woman met her colleague’s gaze and nodded. “Can you tell me who will hurt them?”
April blew on a strand of silky blonde hair that had fallen across her face. She’d taken her hair out of her up-do when she’d changed and now it a tangled mess. She squinted at the interrogator. “How come I can’t see your face?”
“I’m wearing a ski mask.”
“Take it off.”
“Not yet. You probably won’t remember any of this when you wake up, but just in case.”
“Typical. Who skis in Florida anyhow?”
Jonas’ tongue began to tingle as if he was getting some feeling back.
“Who will hurt the people you care about?”
“My father.”
“Why do you think that?”
April shook her head. “He’s a bird.”
“A bird?”
April nodded sloppily and more hair fell into her face. “Yes. A big bird.”
“What can you tell me about the man you were speaking to on the terrace tonight? Donovan Mika. How do you know him?”
Surprise jolted Jonas’ head back, but everyone was so focused on April they didn’t notice the movement. April had met with Donovan Mika? How the hell had he missed that?
“Uncle Donny is my godfather.”
“How often do you meet with him?”
“I haven’t seen him in a very long time.”
When April tried to blow the hair out of her face, the interrogator brushed it back and cupped her cheek. “Why did you meet with him tonight?”
“I don’t know. I just did.”
“What did he want?”
“To warn me.”
The integrator dropped her hand to April’s knee. “Warn you about what?”
“Shakespeare.”
“What about him?”
April shrugged. “He’s a poet. Why is Jonas on the floor? Uncle Donny also warned me not to trust Jonas.”
“He did? Why?”
“Because he’s James Bond. Jonas, not my uncle.” She giggled. “My uncle’s more like Dexter. The boy genius, not the serial killer.”
All eyes turned to Jonas who did his best to remain as still as possible. A difficult thing to do when his heart was racing. How was everything spiraling out of control so quickly? It was her. The first time he laid eyes on April Linus she was stealing a Coke from the cooler in his brother’s charter shop. He knew she was trouble then. The woman might look like an angel, but the hell if she didn’t shove a stick in his spokes and stand back to watch him fly head over ass over the handlebars.
“How much do you know about Jonas Smith?”
A wide grin split April’s face and she giggled. “He has a really big penis.”
One of the men snickered.
The interrogator shot the man a glare that shut him up before she focused on Jonas’ face with an arched eyebrow. “Does he now?”
Shit.
* * *
April nodded. “I’m no expert, but it’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen.”
Jonas gritted his teeth and mentally cursed these people for subjecting her to this. She was drugged and saying things she would never say under normal circumstances. People under the influence of truth serum often went off on tangents or made up alternate realities. It wasn’t the most reliable way to forcibly extract information from someone, but it was the gentlest way. Whoever was doing this didn’t really want to hurt April.
The tingling sensation spread to Jonas’ hands and legs. Diana was right to be cautious with him.
“You said Jonas is James Bond. What did you mean by that?”
Leaning forward, April lowered voice to a loud whisper. “Craig or Connery. Not the other ones. Or Spiderman. He might be Spiderman.”
Diana’s puckered lips suggested she wasn’t happy with the direction the interrogation was going. “Is there anything else you’d like to tell me about Jonas?”
April’s head drooped and she shook it dramatically.
Diana bent down and softened her voice. “What is it, April? You know you can tell me anything.”
“Archie. He has his eyes.”
Jonas’ heart thumped against his ribcage and his gaze met
Diana’s startled one.
She raised her mask. “What have you done?” Vera Velez glared at Jonas.
Of course, it was Vera. He’d recognized the sound of her voice, but his half-fried brain couldn’t place it.
“I know you,” April said. “You’re Archie’s new nanny. I didn’t know you liked to ski.”
Vera studied April with an inscrutable expression, but Jonas could see her brain working out how to handle the unexpected turn of events. At length, she said sweetly, “I am Archie’s nanny, that’s why you have to trust me and tell me the truth about your father.”
“Stop, Vera. Don’t do it this way.” The words slurred out of Jonas’ mouth, but he thought he managed to get his point across.
Vera stood and loomed over him. “You’ve clearly been compromised. I’ll have to report this to The Agency.”
“You’ve got her so drugged up, she doesn’t know what she’s saying.”
“It’s obvious she knows something about her father? Has she told you?”
“No. She doesn’t know anything.”
“Donovan Mika made contact with her tonight for a reason. She must know something. If you’re protecting her—”
“I’m not.”
Vera stared at him for a hard minute. “Then prove it. Use whatever power you have over her to get her to talk or else you’re done. Do we have an understanding?”
Jonas gritted his teeth and nodded.
“One of our informants said Donovan Mika is on his way to Key West to take out Philip Linus. Stop him. Linus is no good to us dead. And get her to talk. She clearly knows more than she’s saying.”
Removing a small knife from her utility belt, Vera flipped it around and placed the handle in Jonas’ limp grasp.
“Go to sleep, April,” Vera said to her. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”
“Okay, goodnight.”
Vera shot one last pointed glare at Jonas before she exited the hotel suite. The two masked men retrieved their unconscious friend and followed her out.
“Jonas?” April eyed him on the floor.
“Yeah, babe?”
“I don’t think she believes you have a big penis.”
He almost choked on his own spit. What the hell? The corners of his mouth twitched then stretched into a wide smile as a short laugh burst out of him. “No, babe. I don’t believe she does.”
His arms and legs were still partially paralyzed. His career was teetering on the brink of extinction. He had a kid he didn’t know existed. And now he had to stop Mika from assassinating Phillip Linus, and somehow coax the truth out of April before Vera had her arrested for obstruction of justice. Shit was going down and April was worried about his dick, and damn if his dick wasn’t interested. At least one of his appendages was fully functioning again.
“I feel sleepy.” April’s head drooped to the side.
“Go to sleep then.” Repositioning the knife, he sawed at the ropes binding his wrists.
“Okay. Good night, Jonas.”
Realizing he was still grinning, he frowned and cursed under his breath. “Sweet dreams, angel.”
Chapter Thirteen
Something shook April’s seat and woke her from a dreamless sleep, but she didn’t immediately open her eyes. She took in her surroundings slowly and in stages. Her bare legs were cold, but her torso was curled into a course blanket. A droning hum, like the sound of a window air conditioner unit on full blast, lulled her into dozing off again. She ran her tongue over her dry lips to moisten them and tried to turn her head. The motion pinched her neck, because she’d fallen asleep sitting up. Her seat jerked again, rocking her side to side, and she opened her eyes.
“It’s okay,” Jonas said from the seat next to hers. “Turbulence.”
They were on her father’s jet in mid-flight. When had that happened?
The last thing she remembered— She winced as a stab of pain split her head. Slapping a hand over her throbbing skull to keep it from coming apart, she closed her eyes and sagged against the seat. “I feel like I have a hangover.”
“The champagne you drank at the party probably didn’t mix well with the vodka.”
“I guess not. This is why I don’t drink very often.”
Jonas retrieved a couple of Advil for her from the first aid kit in the kitchen and handed them to her along with a bottle of water.
“Thanks.”
They sat in silence for a while until April dared to crack her eyes open again. Relieved to discover her headache had eased considerably, she studied Jonas’ profile. His head was resting against the seat and his eyes were closed but he wasn’t sleeping. He’d changed out of his tux into his customary uniform. Black t-shirt, black cargo pants, and black boots. Knives holstered in the leather straps that crisscrossed his chest.
His hands rested in his lap, one casually covering the other. They were strong, capable hands, agile with long, lean fingers, blunt fingertips, and neatly trimmed nails. Hands she longed to feel on her body. Her belly did an odd little flip. Where had that thought come from? She reached up to crank the A/C nob and settled against her seat to let the recycled air cool her flushed skin.
“I came to your room that night because you asked me to and not even the threat of your father’s wrath could have kept me away.” His confession back at the hotel still sucked the air out of her lungs and made her blush all over again.
Getting involved with Jonas Smith was a very bad idea for so many reasons.
Not only had the man actually killed people, he was loner with a dangerous aura about him. He was crabby and callous on a good day. He had zero interest in being involved in Archie’s life. And he insisted he was leaving town as soon as his work in Key West was done. Oh, and he wanted to put her father in prison. There was that.
So why was she so drawn to him? Maybe it was just a chemical thing and his pheromones jived with hers. Or maybe she was attracted to the strength in him that went beyond the physical. It was evident he’d lived a hard life, but he didn’t let it break him. He was quietly confident and noble. He was actually trying to do the right thing by Archie by choosing not to be in his life. From the beginning, she’d seen glimpses of kindness in Jonas. And his career alone suggested he was intelligent, capable, and willing to sacrifice his life to help others. Maybe it was all of the above and his sexy, don’t-F-with-me attitude that made her knees weak and challenged her to find a way past his defenses.
She’d never seen anyone fight like him. That spinning jump kick was spectacular. Wait? What? April squinted, trying to remember when she’d seen him fight. In the fuzzy memory, there were a pair of sofas and the Miami skyline in the backdrop, like their hotel room. As she tried to force the memory back into place, her head pounded harder.
“I had a crazy dream,” she said out loud.
Jonas’ eyes opened, and his head turned in her direction. “Yeah?”
“These masked men invaded our hotel suite, and you tried to fight them off, but you lost. They tied us up and interrogated us about—” She squinted. Remembering made her brain hurt. She shrugged. “I don’t know what.”
Jonas snorted. “That had to be a dream.”
“Why do you say that?”
“In real life, I wouldn’t have lost.” The corners of his mouth lifted in smile that transformed his entire face. His sexy slanted eyes flickered to life and mischief danced in their dark depths.
April’s stomach bottomed out, and a fresh wave of heat consumed her entire body. She tossed the scratchy blanket on the floor. “I need to use the restroom.”
When she unfastened her seatbelt and stood, her legs wobbled like a pair of limp noodles.
“Careful.” Jonas grabbed her hip to stop her from falling.
His touch seared her skin through her clothes. “I’m okay. I stood up too fast.” She shifted away from him and held onto the seatback for support. “How long before we land?”
Jonas glanced at his watch. His bland expression returned, and his tone wa
s all business, yet the rumble of his voice stroked her skin like a caress. “Maybe twenty minutes.”
“When we land, I’m going straight to the hospital to see Juan. You don’t have to come with me.”
“You better use the toilet before the seatbelt sign comes on.”
She hesitated. “Thanks for escorting me to Miami, although it clearly wasn’t necessary.”
“Clearly.” He arched his eyebrow.
The fasten seatbelt sign above their heads binged and the captain’s voice sounded over the loudspeaker. “Miss Linus, EYW had cleared us to land. The local time is 1:32am Eastern Time. I’ll need to ask you to take your seats and prepare for landing in a few minutes.”
“Thank you, Captain,” she replied, not taking her eyes off Jonas’ rugged, ridiculously handsome face.
When had she started crushing on him again?
When had she stopped?
She didn’t have time for this. She had to think about Juan right now, and Archie, and making it through the next three months so she could help her friends and secure her son’s future.
Jonas was her nemesis. At any moment, he could light the fuse that would blow up her plans and hurt the people she loved. She needed to put some space between them as soon as possible, so she could cool down, sober up, and refocus on what was important.
But first, she had to pee.
When April arrived at the hospital in the middle of the night, she used her father’s influence as a major donor to gain entrance to the ICU after visiting hours. Sometimes being Philip Linus’ daughter had its benefits. She stood beside Juan’s bed now watching him sleep afraid to touch him without knowing the full extent of his injuries. His left eye was puffy and black and blue and there was a bruise on his cheekbone, but other than that, his angelic face had been spared.
Surrounded by the sterile smell of disinfectant and the intermittent sound of beeping machines, April couldn’t help but be brought back to last time she was in a hospital room. She was a scared, nineteen-year-old girl about to give birth, and Juan was holding her hand distracting her with his sassy sense of humor. She couldn’t have made it through that day without him.
Passion Punch Page 11