by Lisa Hughey
Di noted that he kept his hands firmly on his weapon and the expression in his eyes was far from welcoming. In that moment, he looked like the warrior he was. Oh, he hid it well under exquisitely-tailored suits and fine Egyptian cotton shirts, but now, stripped bare of the outer trappings of wealth, Riley Stone looked like the muscle she’d hired from GHR.
Di was confident that if Christina trusted the men here to help then they could too. But she also knew that people could turn, loyalties could be broken. Many of the people on this island had little, so it wasn’t unheard of for neighbor to sell out neighbor. But she knew that Riley would protect her.
“Okay.” Di opened the door. Riley moved so he was still partially protected by the door frame, although rounds from the weapons these guys were carrying would tear through the wood and flimsy metal walls of this trailer.
Riley called out. “Christina, we’re coming out. Please make sure none of your friends are trigger happy.”
Christina laughed, the sound like water over a brook, sweet and melodious. “You need not worry.”
“It’s ingrained, honey.”
She spoke in Tagalog so quickly that Riley could only pick up every few words. “Did you get that?” he asked Di softly.
“Yes,” she replied. “We’re fine.”
“You sure?”
She nodded. “Look. They’re getting the boxes out of the truck.”
“Okay.” Riley stepped cautiously out of the school and headed for the truck. Christina met him at the back gate and introduced the four men who’d come to help unload the school supplies.
They all shook hands and then began the physical task of emptying the truck. There were four men of varying descents, the one thing they all had in common was the very new, very deadly weapons strapped to their waists. “You have many problems lately?” he asked, aware of the fact that he needed to gather as much information as possible about the conditions and the temperament of the people on the island.
One man who clearly had more Spanish heritage than the rest shrugged. “Things are peaceful. Right now.” He spat a thick globule of chew onto the hard-packed dirt.
Another, who was clearly mestizo, a mix of Chinese, Negrita, and White nodded. “But who knows how long it will last,” he said in heavily-accented English.
The first shook his head vigorously. “We hope for peace. But we are prepared for more war.”
So the feeling, at least in this little sitio, was optimistic cynicism.
“The treaty is going well?”
The second glanced left, then right. “Most want peace. Everyone is tired of fighting.”
“But?”
“But there are some who don’t like the deal, who still believe the government is taking advantage. There are always rumblings.”
Not a surprise. This island had been prone to violence and aggression for decades. Riley leaned closer. “We are supposed to deliver in some of the more remote sitios. Will we have any problems?”
He’d checked with all of his contacts before coming to Jolo. But situations like the current treaty were fluid and changed constantly. He had no intention of taking Di someplace that would get them both killed. It would be bad for business. And life.
“You will not be harmed,” the last one said vehemently.
But after talking with the men, an uneasiness haunted Riley.
Christina lived in a very small house at the back of the property where the school resided. Against Riley’s better judgment, they stayed for dinner. A simple meal of salted fried fish, rice, and yams.
He observed Di interact with her friend. They had clearly known each other for a long time. “How do you know each other?”
“We went to school together.” Christina said softly, “Now, I am a teacher and she is our angel.”
Di flushed. Unusual for her. But she was softer, less edgy with her friend. Less judgmental, less acerbic.
Riley glanced at his watch. It was getting late. “We should really get back to Jolo city.”
“Oh, you must stay for dessert. It is Di’s favorite.” Christina smiled shyly.
Di laughed. “You made leche flan?”
“Of course.”
After Diana’s tearful goodbye with Christina, they rode back to Jolo in silence. Riley was thinking about the men’s revelations about the political climate on the island. There was something about the men’s demeanors that struck a warning in his gut. He’d learned over the years to trust his intuition. He might not be the sharpest at certain things, so he’d learned to rely on his abilities. They needed to proceed very carefully. “Did Christina mention anything about the current political climate or feelings on island?”
“We didn’t discuss politics.”
“So you didn’t ask at all about what the general mood was surrounding the current peace accord?”
“Why?” she asked suspiciously.
“It directly affects the inhabitants of the island.” Riley started to get a little steamed. She couldn’t be that naive, could she? “If the treaty goes south, everyone here will be thrust back into what amounts to civil war.”
“That has nothing to do with my friends.”
“Don’t put your head in the sand, sweetheart.” Riley tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he contemplated various scenarios. “The success or failure of the treaty affects every single inhabitant of this island.”
And if the accord failed in the next few days, it would adversely affect them.
He waited a few beats, then decided his need for information trumped his need to have peace with Di. He would be wise to gather any other intel he could.
“At our next stop, I’d like you to find out what you can.”
“What?” Di shifted in her seat so that she was facing him, her back up against the passenger door, and her knee almost touching his hip.
“Are you….” She placed a hand over her heart. “Please tell me you aren’t spying on my friends.”
He chanced another look at her. Her face was white, and her hands were gripped in a prayer position. He wasn’t spying on her friends, per se. But he was definitely collecting information. “Look, my job is to make sure that you’re safe while we deliver these supplies. Your friends, like it or not, know more about the current political flow than my contacts. My goal is to get through this job safely without any unforeseen problems.” Which was true, insofar as it went. Just because he had another agenda was none of her business.
He knew he should be laying on the charm, trying to cajole the information out of her, trying to sweet talk her suspicions away. But he couldn’t make himself do it. He wouldn’t lie to her but he also wasn’t going to share the truth with her. She already had a shitty opinion of him. No need to make it worse.
Clearly he failed since the rest of the ride was spent in silence.
Five
The next three days passed in a strained atmosphere. Riley had given up trying to charm her. She seemed immune to his particular brand of allure, which did not mean she wasn’t attracted to him. She was. For which he was happy. He’d hate to be the only one stuck in this sexual limbo. Because every hour spent in the close confines of the truck cab reinforced his unwilling lust for Diana Lundberg.
It was fascinating, really, how he could be so hot for someone who didn’t have an inkling of appreciation for him. If he wasn’t so confident in his prior relationships, he’d think he was developing a masochistic side.
He’d been in a state of semi-arousal for the past three days and nothing seemed to quell it. Not her acerbic response to anything he did. Not the very clear indication that absolutely nothing would ever happen between them. Not his own stern, silent conversations in his head. He could have any woman he wanted, except apparently Di Lundberg.
So he tried to ignore the attraction that simmered between them and focus on his job. He continued to gather information for his Stone Consulting report, and was more and more amazed at her generosity of spirit—with everyone but him.
He continued to gather intelligence about the situation on Jolo which was definitely less stable than he’d originally thought. More than once he’d suggested that Di stay at their hotel while he made the deliveries but she’d nixed that idea in seconds. And he hated to admit it but she’d been right. The locals here knew her. She smoothed the way just being her. Which was another surprise. She was so contentious with him, but she was all sweetness and happiness with her Filipino friends.
Di hadn’t complained about the conditions, which had grown increasingly worse. She took everything in stride except for him. He was able to charm her friends. And the kids. They’d loved the soccer balls. Just the thought had him smiling.
Riley strode back to the truck and hopped in the back. They had one more pallet of supplies to unload and then they were done. But as he opened his knife and got ready to rip into the wrap holding the supplies on the pallet, the feeling of disquiet grew. The reason his intuition had been going crazy, whatever that might be, was ramped to about a thousand degrees.
Di swung into the back of the truck.
“Let’s get this last pallet unloaded and get out of here,” Riley said.
Her pale blue eyes avoided his gaze. “Slight change of plans.”
“What?”
“We have one more delivery to make. But it’s not here.”
Riley’s temper simmered. This was what had been nagging him. Ever since that confrontation on the plane after they’d landed. He’d been thinking about her evasive gaze when she’d told him that this school was getting two pallets of supplies. He should have pushed harder.
The sense of doom that had hovered like a raincloud burst open and showered him with anger. “Where?”
Di smiled at him. Strike number one. She never smiled at him. Ever.
She smiled vacantly over his shoulder when it was needed but she hadn’t made true eye contact since their first school delivery and his impromptu soccer play with Michael Chua.
Which meant something was up. “What?”
She pressed her fingers along her thighs, smoothing the material of her tan cargo pants until no wrinkles marred the surface. “I have the coordinates of the last delivery.”
Riley’s suspicions raised again. “What are they?”
She gave him the long and lat. After Riley mentally calculated where she wanted to go, his temper exploded. “No fucking way.”
“We have to make this delivery.”
“You’re talking about going into the heart of the Moro National Liberation Territory,” he snarled. “Have you been listening to the rumors your friends have been sharing with us?”
“I know that it will be a…delicate situation.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“There’s a school there that really needs supplies.” She pressed her palms together as if in prayer and she begged. “Seriously. I’ve watched you with the kids the last few days. You really care.”
The surprise in her voice pissed him off beyond reason. “So now you’re going to use that against me?”
“These kids have nothing.”
“You’re talking about driving through the most militant of the Moro National Liberation Front territory. Even if they are committed to peace, they are just as likely to take us hostage as let us through,” Riley argued.
“I know,” Di countered. “But my best friend is the teacher for the school.”
Riley slammed his fist on top of the last pallet. “No fucking way.”
“Please Riley,” Di begged. Then she gave him the smile that she gave to everyone else. A smile she had never blessed on him.
“Really?”
“What?”
“You actually think you can charm me?” Riley curled his fingers into fists and fought the very strong urge to punch the pallet again. “The very move you scoff at me for regularly and now you’re trying it on me?”
“I don’t—”
“Yes, you do.” Riley jumped down from the back of the truck and stalked to the cab. “What the hell, Di?”
“These kids have nothing.”
“I get that but, Jesus.” Riley rubbed his hand over his face.
“Which is exactly why this is the most important delivery we have to make.”
“You realize that we need more security.”
She shook her head. “That’s the last thing we need. More security would be perceived as a threat. Taking a single truck with just you and me was the only way we could get into this area to deliver the supplies.”
Riley swore. She was probably right. But he’d still like a regiment of soldiers and maybe an RPG. What the fuck?
“Are you suicidal?” he asked pleasantly.
She shook her head. “I have allies in the area. They won’t let anything happen to us.”
That triggered his memory. When he’d asked her if she had friends in MNLF. This, this was that look that she’d given him. How the hell had he let her overrule his natural instincts? Dammit.
“Lailani’s husband will escort us.” Di said, “We’ll have protection. You don’t need to worry.”
Hell yes, he needed to worry.
“These kids, my friend’s daughter, Divina, specifically needs the supplies we’ve got.”
“What is so special about these supplies?” But her answer didn’t matter. There was nothing that she could say that would get him to acquiesce and go into this particular region.
“Divina is dyslexic.” Di said, “I don’t know if you know what that—”
“I know what dyslexia is,” Riley said shortly. The acid from his stomach roiled and burned as he acknowledged she’d won. With five short words, she’d overturned his objections.
“We have special materials to help her learn to read.” Di continued not realizing he’d already given in. “And educational books on tape.”
As if she’d reached inside his mind, she’d found the one weakness he’d buried. He’d been there. Been that kid who’d been made fun of because as hard as he tried, he couldn’t make sense of words. With an absentee father, and no mother figure until Shelley came to live with them when he’d been twelve, he’d spent his elementary and middle school years in hell.
He knew he was as smart as other kids. He could take apart a car’s guts and put it back together by the time he’d been ten, he could speak Spanish and French by the time he was eleven, he could memorize travel routes and chemistry symbols and do mathematical equations in his head. And without help he’d learned to use his charm to ease out of reading and writing whenever he could. But he’d always sucked at reading.
Once Shelley came to live with them, she’d gotten him some tutoring, but at that point not a lot stuck. He was never going to be a big reader or even proficient at reading. He needed to hear the words to make connections. Dammit. Fuck.
Riley’s mind raced. He wouldn’t stop the delivery to her friend’s school, however he refused to take Di that far in country. But maybe he could find a way to get those supplies to her friend’s daughter.
“Compromise. We will meet them and make a transfer. But I will not take you into that zone.”
Shit. There were so many ways this could still go wrong. But how could he deny that kid a chance to be successful, a chance to learn?
In the cab of the truck, Di was quiet.
“What’s wrong now?”
“I thought you’d take a lot more convincing.”
“Well, you thought wrong.” Riley was running through scenarios in his head, thinking about potential drop off points, safe routes, and how to transfer the supplies when the heat of her
hand on his arm stopped him dead.
Di couldn’t believe that Riley had given in so quickly. She’d been sure that they were in for a rip-roaring fight. That’s why she’d waited so long to tell him about where the supplies needed to go.
“Thank you,” she whispered, gratitude and a tight throat made her voice husky. And then she impulsively leaned over to kiss his cheek. His skin was rough with stubble and abraded her lips as she brushed a quick kiss over his cheek.
He whipped his head toward her. “What was that for?”
The cab of the truck shrank as the intimacy of their positions solidified in an instant. The puff of his breath was sweet with the coconut milk he’d had for lunch. His forearm was supple and warm beneath her palm. A sizzle of electricity burned through her as she realized she was touching him. The air was thick with anticipation and the scent of warm male and musk.
And suddenly the attraction she’d suppressed for the last few days blossomed in her core and spread heat throughout her body. She was frozen in place. Her breasts mere inches from the muscled strength of his bicep as his hands flexed on the steering wheel as if he were anchoring himself to stop from reaching for her.
His eyes were so close she could see the striations of amber in the green and the layer of desire in his hooded gaze.
All the air sucked from the truck, and Di inhaled a quick breath.
Her blood chugged through her veins, slow and somnolent. As the heat in the truck’s cab rose, they both held still, caught in the force field of the attraction that had simmered between them since they met. Di may have tried to shove it down, away, but the truth was she’d spent most of her time with Riley trying to ignore his appeal.
She was leaning almost on his arm, and he didn’t move. If she were less confident she might take his stillness as a rejection. But she could literally feel his effort to resist their pull. If the expression in his eyes was any indication, it was taking all he had to hold himself immobile.
His gaze dropped to her mouth. Her lips still tingled from the light brush against his skin and the soft stubble on his face. Her lips and mouth were so dry in spite of the lush tropical air, and she swallowed hard to keep from licking them. But she lost the battle and her tongue came out to wet them.