The Protector of Ambra (Mercenaries of Fortune, #5)

by Lyn Brittan

  So, no, he wasn’t going to kill a guy over a toy.

  Besides, their would-be killer’s gun had been jammed and open at his feet. Pierce wouldn’t have been so kind if it’d been in the man’s hands. It was lucky for all of them.

  Killing wasn’t a natural thing for Pierce. He’d done it for his country. He’d done it to save his friends. But it was anathema to everything he’d dedicated his life to.

  His eyes drifted to the backpack on the floor and the treasure it held inside. All of this for a little taste of adventure and a small damned piece of clay. He wouldn’t be able to look at the thing if he had killed someone – unnecessarily – to get it.

  “I’m not a killer,” he said softly.

  It had been a good ten minutes since either of them had spoken. He waited for an “I know,” or “I’m totally sorry for not acknowledging your awesomeness,” but he got nothing.

  He ought to go home and say to hell with it. Even as he lied to himself that leaving her on her own was an actual possibility, the back wheel popped and thudded. Shit. “A flat tire. Nothing but good luck today.”

  He jumped out to change it. No surprise of what caused it. Almost immediately, he saw a gunshot that had finally taken the breath out of something. Metal clanged on metal as he pulled out the jack and started working on getting that wheel ready.

  The jeep’s door slammed shut. If she was getting out to tell him how he was doing this wrong too, he’d lose his fucking mind. He sighed and prepped himself for another unnecessary fight where he was the bad guy for doing all the right things.

  He turned at her grunting behind him, but there was no danger or attack. Only Melody hefting up a large rock under each arm. Before he had a chance to warn her of popped stitches, she’d already dropped one under a front tire to stabilize the jeep and was kicking it into place.

  She’d done this before. It irked him. As much as she pissed him off, he hated that she didn’t have anyone around to change her tires. He hated it as much as he loved that she was woman enough to know how to do it.

  Lug nuts off the spare on the back, he went to get the jack, but Melody was already standing over it. She twisted her thumb toward the jeep. “I’ll get her off the ground.”

  The question, “need help,” almost passed his lips, but the fact that she’d gotten out of the car said enough.

  Her help couldn’t have been to counter any charges of laziness either. Not with her injuries. Injuries, likely, he’d have to re-bandage. Combined, those things meant she was doing all this because...well...she wanted to. Maybe this was her way of being on board. “Take it easy. Those painkillers won’t work forever.”

  She sniffed. She coughed. And his stomach bottomed out as the mewling sounds of her tears carried in the air.

  Anger was a tricky thing. It happened to him at the worst of times, but usually fizzled away. The sound of her crying left no time for fizzling. He shot up, pivoting so fast that his bum knee popped and snapped.

  It was a twisting, tearing pain as the cartilage stretched, reaching in vain for a stronger connection that wasn’t there. He ignored it all, half hobbling, half flopping to get to her. “Hey, hey. Look I’m sorry. I thought I had this figured out and—”

  “You did.” She sniffed again, wiping her nose on her arm. “You’re a liar. I hate liars.”

  “I picked that up.”

  She shook her head, shaking her hands in front of her. Every part of her turned salmon red. From her blotchy face to her splotchy fingers. “I don’t condone what you did. It was wrong—”

  “Got it.”

  Some women were beautiful despite their tears. Melody wasn’t one of them. Her cheeks puffed out and her bloodshot eyes looked like death warmed over. Not cute and not something he intended to see again.

  “No more tears from you.”

  Melody evoked a sense of obligation. Something about her – or maybe something about him with her – made him need to prove his worthiness.

  She’d just seen him do, in her eyes, a horrible thing. He’d make sure it wasn’t the last thing she saw of him. “This guy you’re hunting, forget him. This place isn’t safe and I was an idiot to bring you out here. Especially knowing what I intended to do first.”

  Melody dragged the hem of her shirt against her nose. “Agreed. But it’s my fault too. You know what you’re doing. I’m the idiot for being out here in the first place. Without you, I’d be lost in the city with nothing.”

  Going slow so she wouldn’t move away, he wrapped his hands around hers, bridging the distance between them. Her fingers were like little birds’ feet. Soft, delicate and trembling. “I meant what I said. Forget this Noah guy.”

  “Can’t. Too much is on the line. I never told you why I started that business, did I?”

  “I assumed you liked to eat.”

  Her lips puffed out a laugh and she cocked her head to the side. “Yeah. That too. When we were kids, Mama didn’t have a lot of money. Every weekend though, she scratched up enough for a red box of brownie mix. We loved baking. Then on Monday, Angie and I would take those to school – man, we were the most popular kids in the cafeteria ever.”

  “Let me guess. You guys never got tired of eating them?”

  Her face scrunched and she pulsed her hands in his. “Of course, but it was making them that was most fun. We never hit that bad teenager stage. I mean, we were teenagers, but we were too busy surviving to be bratty. When you see your mom suffering every day, the last thing you want to do is be a jerk and make her suffer more.”

  The lines on her face softened as she spoke of those she loved. There was a sliver of delight that not once had she spoken of a man that way. Her devotion to her family was beautiful. It left him a little envious. He wanted that from someone. Perhaps that was why, despite the end of her tears and shakes, he hadn’t let go of her little bird hands. “You three are a team.”

  “That’s why I’m here. They’re depending on me to get this money situation fixed and bring this guy to justice.”

  “Forget him, Melody. In my line of work, we discuss primary objectives. The one thing that must be accomplished. You don’t need to hunt this guy down. I’m a wealthy man. I can give you the money. I’m happy to.”

  She snatched her hands away and cleared her throat. “I don’t take handouts.”

  “Then I’ll loan it to you.”

  “I have enough loans already,” she said, staring up at him like his father watched the stock market: a mild obsession mixed with a touch of self-importance. It led to missing the big picture and she sure as shit was.

  Eyes never leaving hers, his hand blindly sought her grasp again. “I’m offering you what you came for.”

  “I came for justice.”

  “I thought you came for your family and before you say it, Melody, they’re not the same thing.”

  “They are for me.”

  He opened his mouth to set her straight, but a phone rang. His, specifically and it was Ambra’s home base. “Well, all this is moot anyway. I’m toast.”

  Chapter Nine

  Pierce sucked his lower lip with a loud pop and slid down the side of the car with a very weak, “Hello?” Phone pressed to his ear, for the first time he looked truly fearful. “I’m here. Uh-huh. Late night.”

  His lies were as smooth as freshly whipped buttercream.

  “What do you mean, she’s pregnant?” he screamed into the phone. Pierce waved away her gasp and pointed to his chest. “Not mine,” he mouthed and shot up to finish the call in privacy.

  Was he lying about that too? She didn’t think so. But the whole thing led to more questions. Who really was this guy? The doctor thing, she believed full out. She’d seen evidence of it since they met. Even now, the last she heard before he limped out of earshot was about safe levels of some drug in the second trimester.

  So doctor? Fact.

  Government agent? Possibility. He had unusual tools and the skills to use them. Or not use them. His hand-to-hand combat was
nothing to laugh at either.

  He rubbed his knee as he walked. Proof of some previous injury? Did the CIA let guys with a limp hang around? That was suspect. And if not the CIA, then what – the FBI or something more nefarious?

  That last question didn’t hold much water. He didn’t abandon her, though she deserved it. If he’d meant to hurt her, that would have happened already too. The only thing he’d done to her, was help and smoothly insert that he thought she was running on a tank full of stupid. Maybe she was. She’d been so focused on the injustice she had to make right, that she’d hauled off with a stranger in the Mexican jungle. Dumb or determined? The lines were starting to blur.

  As far as she was concerned, truth, love, justice and honesty were one in the same. She’d promised her mother she’d put Noah’s butt in jail and that’s what she was going to do. That’s where liars and deceivers belonged. That’s also what made Pierce such a puzzling man. He’d offered her his time, his neck and now his money.

  He wasn’t fitting into any of her cookie cutters. Orders and rules made society run, yet here he was saving her butt. The only thing missing was the cape.

  He was still a thief and a liar. A man who lied once, would lie again. Her mother had told her that and she’d seen it with her own eyes.

  Then again, it was heartwarmingly satisfying to see a man who loved his work as much as she loved hers. He got it. That drive to wake up every morning and deliver the best of yourself.

  Not once, not even for a second, had she ever considered giving up her job. It didn’t compute that the work was too hard or that she could do something that took up less of her life. Her job was her life.

  And Pierce got that.

  It was why he was helping her. Everything came back to one solid truth, though. He was a liar.

  He came back a few minutes later, tapping his phone against his chin. “I shouldn’t be here.”

  “We can’t leave,” she said, with a small amount of fear beating against her chest. “We’ve come so far—”

  His hands dropped to his sides and his back thunked against the side of the jeep. “No, you stuck with me through mine, I’m following through on yours. I just shouldn’t have been here. When they needed me, I’m here obsessed with a damned clay figurine.”

  “Not you. You forgot your primary objective?”

  He looked up and shook his head. “Cute.”

  “No, it’s just sometimes small-minded people need to be reminded of the big picture.”

  He pivoted away and held open the door. “Funny. Now get in. We’ve got a bad guy to catch in the act.”

  They drove for minutes in silence. He stared at the road, but she knew he was looking well beyond it. She had a dozen questions. Who was the pregnant woman? Was she safe? He wouldn’t have gotten off the phone if she wasn’t. “Tell me about her.”

  “Who?”

  “The lady on the phone.”

  His lips twitched up and his shoulders sank back into the seat. “A good friend. Apparently not good enough to tell me she was pregnant,” he said with a headshake. “Everyone has their secrets to keep, though. I don’t think our boss knows. He’s going to kill her.”

  “Women aren’t allowed to have families where you work? That’s rather misogynistic.”

  Pierce snorted again. “It’s not so much the what. It’s the who that might be the problem. After her brother finishes with the guy that got her preggers, I’m going to rip into what’s left. Might not be much,” he added softly. “I tell you one damned thing. If she gets fired for this, a whole lot of people are walking out right with her.”

  The soft fondness with which he spoke about this woman birthed a few super unnecessary bubbles of jealousy. Not at the woman in particular – there was love, but not of the romantic sort in his words. His life made her envious. Apparently, he had one. This man, so consumed by his work, still managed to create relationships. It sounded as if it was the same for others staffed with him.

  She couldn’t think of the last time she’d sat down over dinner with someone not from her family. Pierce had an existence outside of his office. All she had was her office. “How do you guys balance life and work?”

  “Hmm?” He frowned a little and shrugged. “I guess it’s like handling the finances of your business. A certain percentage goes back into work, a certain percentage you save for yourself and the last bit you save for others. It’s not enough to have money or in this case, time. We all have the same amount of time in a day. It’s how we use it.”

  “That’s high-level thinking right there.”

  “It’s true. I was in the Navy before. I’ve lost good men and women in the field. I know that every day is a gift some people don’t receive. Have you ever heard of a man named Laozi?”

  “Should I have?”

  “Probably not,” he said with a chuckle. “He lived thousands of years ago. He basically said that if you’re nervous about something, you’re living in the future. If you’re sad about something, then you’re living in the past. The only way to find peace is to live in the present. That’s what I try to do. I enjoy life and try to find happiness where I can. Clay pottery included.”

  It was a beautiful sentiment, but the practicalities of it were...well...awesome. And unlivable. “So, what, people don’t have responsibilities according to this guy?”

  “Sure they do, but once you’ve done all you can and the moment has passed, let it live in the past. Leave it behind you.” Then he looked over and winked, “It’d be like trying to right a wrong that doesn’t need to be righted and completely overlooking the beautiful jungle that led you there.”

  She couldn’t tell if she was being talked down to or not. And since she couldn’t, it made a whole lot more sense to stick her arm out the window and watch the neon and forest greens of the jungle take her away. Easier to look out there than to analyze why she was here in the first place.

  Apparently, Pierce wasn’t a man for expectant silences. “How did you learn to drive like that? Fancy stuff back there at the monastery.”

  She blew on her fingertips. “Never count out a truck driver.”

  “You drove trucks? Consider me impressed.”

  “A delivery truck. Before we had our space, we rented a group kitchen. Our orders and catering took us over most of the state. It wasn’t a lightweight truck either – not with the cold storage we needed. I learned through trial and painful error, but today, there’s no parking space too narrow. My reign as parallel parking master goes unchallenged.”

  “You’ll have to give me lessons someday.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “I mean it,” he said, glancing from his phone to the bumpy road ahead. “I’m that guy who parks at the end of the lot and it’s not because I’m worried about my paint job.”

  “Something you’re not good at? And you’re admitting it? Save the date.” More like he was lying to make her feel better. It worked, until she realized that it shouldn’t work. That wormed around until she ended up with the craziest damned question. What was the worst that could happen if she let it work?

  He caught her staring and winked. “You okay?”

  “I’ll teach you. Even if you’re just lying to make me feel better.”

  “The tightest of spaces?”

  “Gross. Just stop,” but her admonishments drowned in a wave of soft chuckles. “You’ll get one free parallel parking lesson—”

  “Free?”

  “Wait, wait. I’ll need to assess where you are before I put my life and property on the line.”

  Pierce’s lips dropped and the phone fell from his hand. His fingers didn’t stop wiggling until she laced her own through his. “I will not put you in danger, Melody. And if by some strange circumstance, you go driving into danger – not referencing anything in particular, I’m just saying – I will always get you out of it.”

  “Always is a long time. Especially between strangers.”

  He bobbed his head from side to side and slowed
the car to a stop. “We shared DNA. Not in the traditional way that some people do, but we swapped it with that unusually chaste kiss. So, there’s that. And the stitches. Even if you’re only using me for my superior ass-kicking skills, you’re still my patient. If for no other reason than that, I’ll always make sure you’re safe.”

  His hand was like fire around hers. It was no less burning when he cupped her chin, leaving a trail of lava and starting blazes all over her body.

  It was an impulsive move, but then again, he’d been impulsive from the second they’d met. For the moment, as her toes curled in her super sexy Birkenstocks, she was grateful as hell. She couldn’t move her gaze away from his lips. She just sat there, taking in the fullness of him. His mouth was sex on tap.

  The jeep groaned. It didn’t like standing idle. Neither did her hands. They needed to feel him and the next thing she knew, her arms were latched around his back.

  Everything stopped around the two of them. Nothing else existed aside from the honeyed taste of his mouth. She was fourteen again, having her world rocked on the lockers outside of homeroom.

  He pulled away too damned fast for her liking. “Was I out of line?”

  “Well...” she wiped at the corner of her lips. “Don’t think this means I’ll go easier on you during parking tutoring.”

  “Oh, no. I like rough, mistress.”

  And whether he did or didn’t, it was said with all the heat of an Easy Bake Oven. This was him, playful and at peace. Relaxing her in a whole new way and again making her wish for something more cheerful out of life.

  Not that she had any say. She was his patient after all. For the first time in her life, she wasn’t in control and it really didn’t suck.

  Chapter Ten

  It was close to noon before they neared the town of Camerra, thick in cacao tree-growing territory. Pierce’s mind had been occupied by two things the whole trip up here: Melody and work.

  Three things – Melody, work and how Melody was impacting his work.