EXPOSED: Sizzling HOT Detective Series (The Criminal Affairs Collection Book 1)

by Taylor Lee

  Moving through the crowded room toward his partners, Jax didn’t acknowledge the inauspicious servers carrying trays of appetizers throughout the crowd, nor the smiling bartenders who ensured that nary a glass would be empty tonight. None of the uniformed servers or valet parking attendants surrounding the resort revealed in mannerism or speech that they were, in reality, highly trained operatives in Jax’s multi-disciplinary team.

  As he approached his partners, Jax was waylaid by the lovely woman holding court in the center of the room. Breaking away from the men clustered around her, the gorgeous Latina woman held out her hands in welcome.

  “Ah, there you, Mr. Dubois. I have been waiting for you. I was concerned you might decide that the dinner tonight was too plebian for a man of your worldliness.”

  Jax reached for the exquisite woman’s hand and bowed over it, brushing his lips against the soft skin on the inside of her wrist. He’d chosen the French identity from his various aliases to coordinate with his dark hair and blazing green eyes. He’d eschewed his obvious Emerald Isle heritage and relied on his fluency in French. Gazing down at the smiling woman, he said with a tinge of a French accent, “Please, madam, don’t ever diminish perfection. One could travel the lengths of the earth and not meet a more beautiful, more elegant woman than you. I’m honored to be in your presence.”

  The dark-eyed woman’s eyes gleamed with appreciation, then sparkled with ill-concealed amusement. “Really, Mr. Dubois, how do you Frenchmen learn your gracious manners? Are you schooled at your mother’s knee? Spanked if you show the least bit of rudeness?”

  At her naughty insinuation, Jax allowed a grin to tug at his lips. “Ah, Madam Lopez, how well you tease. I must confess that my mother never spanked me, although she did seem to appreciate the use of corporal punishment in the right hands. And, of course, for appropriate occasions.”

  A peal of luscious laughter flowed from the gorgeous woman’s plump lips. She shook her head and leaned closer to Jax, apparently intending her words for his ears only.

  “Ah, Lucas—if I may call you by your given name—I can only imagine the ‘appropriate occasions’ a man like yourself could conjure up. But please, forgive my forwardness. It’s just that I am surrounded by unschooled men who haven’t been taught the niceties of wooing women. Much less understand how attractive a sense of humor is when coupled with gracious manners.”

  She threw a withering glance at the beefy men hovering close by, clearly not intimidated by their size or the scowls knotting their furrowed brows. Her obvious disdain underscored that, as the longtime paramour of the head of the Muñoz cartel, Francesca Ortiz could be as disparaging to the hulking gangsters as she pleased. From what Jax had learned of the beautiful woman’s reputation, the only thing sharper and more dangerous than her contempt was her anger. Particularly toward any man or, God forbid, woman who dared to infringe on her exalted position with Carlos Muñoz—el Jeffe, as he was known.

  The frown darkening Francesca’s lovely face evolved into a sneer. In a voice she didn’t try to muffle, she said, “And then, of course, there is the penchant so many of our uncouth men have for women like that.”

  Following her gaze to the entrance of the dining room, Jax saw Martinez Flores, the heir apparent to the Muñoz cartel. The hard-eyed man was el Jeffe’s enforcer, his hatchet man. Known for his fierce temper and violent reprisals against enemies and luckless friends who unwittingly earned his boss’s ire, Flores was as dreaded as el Jeffe. He was not as tall as Jax, but solidly muscular, and there was no question that Flores was feared for good reason. As a championship cage fighter, tales of Flores beating men to death inside and outside of the cage were commonplace. Even from across the room, the guy’s gleaming black eyes and glowering expression reeked of danger.

  But it wasn’t the scowling bad boy who had Jax’s gut in knots. In truth, he barely saw the muscular menace. How could he, given the woman standing next to Flores? It was clear what had riled Francesca Ortiz. The sight had caused the huffy woman’s lips to curl in distaste as though she’d sucked on a particularly bitter lemon. For beautiful women like Francesca, accustomed to being the center of attention, it was no doubt challenging to see the reaction of the assembled group to the vision standing beside Flores. The hushed silence filling the room was testament to the singular beauty of the woman in the doorway. Unlike the angry scorn that had hardened Jax’s hostess’s face, the glow on the blonde goddess’s pale face looked almost innocent.

  At the surprising silence, Flores’s grim expression darkened ominously. Glaring at the crowd of men clearly entranced by his beautiful companion, he jerked the young woman next to him, staking his claim. Knowing Flores’s violent temper, most of his cohorts tried to hide their interest in the woman standing next to their boss. A few brave men dared to sneak furtive glances at the enforcer’s remarkable guest, helpless to ignore her stunning figure, showed off to perfection in a scandalous gold lamé dress.

  Jax wasn’t one of those reluctant men. Instead, he studied her closely and didn’t miss the familiar tilt of her chin as she distanced herself ever so slightly from her fierce escort or how she almost imperceptibly eased her arm from Flores’s grip, putting additional distance between the two of them.

  In minutes, the sound of tinkling glasses and quick snatches of tentative conversation filled the air as Flores’s comrades hastened to resume their previous camaraderie. Certain that his rapidly beating heart was audible to the people standing next to him, particularly the forbidding Francesca, Jax made an effort to look away from the young woman at Flores’s side. But it was impossible to do. Her gorgeous, body-skimming dress, provocative high heels, long blonde hair, and summer sky–blue eyes confirmed that the vision on Flores’s arm was simply the most exquisite woman he’d ever seen. More compelling, it took him all of ten seconds to know that as glorious as she was in her provocative clothing, she was even more stunning naked.

  Jax had watched with his heart in his throat as the nymph on the cliff rose in a graceful leap and dove into the glistening pool at the foot of the sheer embankment. It took a full minute of watching her frolic in the sparkling water below for Jax to acknowledge that she hadn’t been planning to commit suicide. Rather, her breathtaking high dive into the distant pool was merely an audacious stunt, a raised middle finger to the adrenaline gods. When he’d managed to get his lungs and heart functioning at semi-normal rates, Jax marveled at her daring. Christ, and he thought he was an adrenaline junkie. But what had changed his perception of the entire incident was watching her scramble naked up the side of the cliff to retrieve her abandoned clothing.

  Poised on the top of the precipice before her jump, she had been surreal, Aphrodite-like. Too beautiful and too unexpected to be real. But there was nothing about her bare ass that was surreal. Hell no. Her scampering climb up the steep embankment underscored the strong muscles in her arms, legs, and most especially, her gorgeous ass. Her toned cheeks, with the enticing crack separating them, were covered with lush feminine curves that had his prick surging in appreciation. But it was when she got to the top of the hill and lazily reached for the nearly transparent cover-up that his dick went into overdrive.

  As she bent over to retrieve the garment, Jax was able to fully appreciate her luscious breasts, with water beading on the tips of her peaked nipples. When she stood up, straight and tall, he saw for the first time that her mons was bare—not so much as a dusting of hair marred the mouthwatering view at the apex of her thighs. With a harsh groan, he relinquished his breath. It was simply impossible to look at her and breathe at the same time. It was then that she saw him.

  Visibly startled, her eyes had widened in surprise. For a long moment, she stood still, clutching her dress at her side. And then she did something that Jax knew he would remember for the rest of his life. She smiled. Her lips curving in a cheeky grin, she met his eyes and lifted her chin in a defiant gesture. He could almost hear her expel a deep breath as she raised her arms over her head, ensuring that th
ere wasn’t an inch of her body he hadn’t seen. With an insolent shrug, she allowed the gossamer garment to float over her naked form. She stood for a moment, holding his gaze, then turned and ran the rest of the way to the top of the hill. At the precipice, she paused and looked over her shoulder. Giving him a saucy wave of her fingers, she disappeared over the crest.

  Shoving at the memory of their shared exploit, Jax pinned a hard gaze on the young woman standing in the doorway next to the warlord, willing her to look his way. It was as if the tectonic layers of the earth shifted, causing a magnetic pull to drag her gaze his way. The rosy color staining her cheeks when she saw him confirmed in that single instant she recognized him, as he recognized her. Not willing for her to ignore him or their erotic adventure, Jax excused himself from Francesca.

  “Pardon me, madam, but I haven’t had a chance to greet my good friend, Martinez Flores. You will excuse me, please?”

  Without waiting for an answer from the narrow-eyed madam, Jax strode across the room to introduce himself to the woman he knew had changed his life. Many weeks later, he would marvel at what an understatement that brazen claim had been.

  Chapter 3

  Viviana moved ever so slightly away from the glowering man beside her. She knew Martinez needed to make it clear that she was with him, but his overbearing possessiveness annoyed her. Lifting her chin, she allowed a slight smile to curve her lips as she gazed at the crowd of men staring at her. She managed not to shrug dismissively at their interest. After all, she’d worked damn hard on her entrance; the least she could do was congratulate herself for a job well done. The fact that most of them quickly looked away, refusing to meet her gaze, proved that Flores was as bad as she knew he was.

  Glancing around the room, to her surprise, she recognized Francesca Ortiz from her surveillance photos. The presence of the haughty woman confirmed that the conclave was even more important than she’d told her captain it was. Viviana shivered slightly at the clear anger radiating from the frowning woman, who was glaring at her. Obviously Ms. Ortiz didn’t like competition. Which, Viviana thought with a sigh, was too damn bad. Her job was to entice the hell out of the disgusting man at her side, and if her antics annoyed the cartel’s queen bee, so be it. Viv was accustomed to dealing with jealous women. It was the price she paid to look and act the way she did. The only problem was that this particular green-eyed viper was almost as dangerous as her longtime lover, Carlos Muñoz.

  Deciding that discretion was distinctly the better part of valor, Viviana couldn’t resist a slightly dismissive shrug as she pulled her gaze away from the forbidding woman in search of a more favorable sight. The minute she did, she knew she’d made a terrible mistake. For a brief second, Viviana convinced herself that it wasn’t possible. There was no way that the tall, dark-haired man standing beside Carlos Muñoz’s paramour was the man she’d seen at the diving pool this afternoon. It couldn’t be. The gods couldn’t be that cruel, or worse, that mischievous. Granted, she was always pushing her luck. Challenging both her angels and devils with her often careless, and even more often outrageous, behavior. But this…this was too much. It was too dangerous a place for whimsical demons to test her ability to extricate herself from her self-induced quicksand.

  Swallowing hard, Viviana met his gaze. It wasn’t his tall, sleek physique that caused her stomach to flip dangerously. Or the crease on his tanned cheeks or his chiseled jaw that had her heart pounding madly. It wasn’t even his narrowed, emerald-green eyes that were locked on her, freezing her in place. No, it was the sardonic tilt of his lips as he gazed at her, looking for all the world as though he knew her. Knew her intimately and well. As if he knew what she looked like naked. Managing to drag a breath of air into her vise-tight chest, Viviana closed her eyes, acknowledging that he did.

  Forcing her eyes open, Viviana called on her considerable cache of chutzpah. She reminded herself that if anyone knew how to put men in their places, she did. Meeting the man’s knowing gaze, she lifted her chin another notch, then slid her hand into the crook of Flores’s arm and tugged on it. When Martinez looked down at her in surprise, she brushed a non-existent piece of lint off his lapel and tossed him a coquettish smile. “I was wondering, big guy, what it would take for a girl to get a glass of champagne?” To her relief, he responded by putting a possessive arm around her and shepherding her into the dining room. Her relief was short-lived when she heard a deep, compelling voice. Without looking for its source, she knew it could only belong to the individual who she now knew was the most dangerous man in the room—at least to her.

  “Ah, Martinez, I was wondering when you would arrive. It’s been much too long, my friend.”

  Flores looked up at the tall man approaching them. To Viviana’s surprise, a rare smile lit Martinez’s pockmarked face. He eagerly moved forward, abandoning Viviana in the process. Reaching up, he wrapped a burly arm around the taller man’s shoulders and bellowed, “Goddammit, Dubois. You did come! I sure as fuck hope that means what I think it does!”

  The man he called Dubois gracefully extricated himself from Flores’s grasp and nodded pleasantly. “I expect that we both will be satisfied, Martinez.”

  As much as she wanted to ignore him and move as far away from him as quickly as possible, Viviana found herself drawn to the man who’d approached them. It wasn’t only Martinez’s surprisingly effusive greeting or the man’s cultured French accent that kept her from fleeing. It was his commanding presence. Given that, just minutes before, he’d been standing next to Francesca Ortiz, Viviana realized with a shudder that she may inadvertently have bared her ass to one of the kingpins in the Muñoz cartel.

  At that moment, a grating female voice interrupted her harried thoughts.

  “Well, well, Martinez. I see that you finally agreed to join us. My understanding was that you were due to arrive this morning. Carlos has been asking for you.”

  Before Viv’s companion could respond to the clear rebuke from the haughty woman, Francesca turned her steely gaze on Viviana. In a tone dripping with spite, she tossed her head contemptuously. “But then, you always were easily distracted. Please, Martinez, don’t keep us in suspense. Who is your companion that you chose to invite to this select gathering, if in fact, you’ve known her long enough to have gotten her name?”

  Knowing that her face had to be flaming, Viviana managed to smile and extend her hand, which the iron madam dismissed with a flick of her fingers. Ignoring Flores’s confusion, Viviana met the vicious woman’s searing gaze. “I do hope it is not problematic for me to be here, Madam Ortiz. In answer to your question, my name is Maja Nilsson.”

  To her surprise, before either Francesca or Martinez could respond, the man Martinez had called Dubois stepped forward and reached for her hand. Smiling down at her, he said, “Hmm, an auspicious and not surprising heritage, Miss Nilsson. Sweden, like France is a beautiful country, known for its lovely women. Tell me, Maja, how you happened to come to Belize. It is quite a jaunt from Sweden.”

  Viviana knew he had stepped in to buffer Francesca’s nasty insult when Martinez had wilted in the face of his boss’s woman. On one hand, she was grateful that Dubois had rescued her from Francesca’s sneering disdain. But seeing the handsome man’s narrow-eyed, clearly amused gaze, she was annoyed. Ignoring his question, she snatched her hand from his grip. Turning to the frosty woman who was glaring at her, she said sweetly, “But you weren’t interested in my name, were you, Francesca?” Glad when the dark-eyed viper bristled at the affront of Viviana calling her by her first name, Viv stoked the embers. “In answer to the question you were really asking, Martinez and I met in a bar in Tijuana. It was lust at first sight, wasn’t it, big guy?” At Martinez’s dumbfounded silence, she brushed his hand off her arm and smiled at the trio. “If you’ll excuse me, please, I’m in desperate need of a hearty drink of single malt scotch, the more expensive, the better.”

  Sauntering across the room toward the bar, Viviana willed her legs not to shake. Accentuating the sw
ay of her hips from side to side helped steady her gait. So did the shot of Compass Box Hedonism she tossed back in a single gulp. The name of the whiskey alone strengthened her resolve. Leaning over, she let the edge of the bar give an added oomph to her already surging breasts. Grinning at the wide-eyed bartender, she gave him a saucy wink and pushed the empty glass toward him. “How about another, hot stuff? Something tells me I’m going to need all the liquid courage I can get tonight.”

  The bartender seemed to collect himself. He met her brazen gaze and refilled her glass, then disagreed. “Uh, in my humble opinion, ma’am, the only thing you’re going to need tonight is as big a stick as you can find to beat away all the men who will be risking their most valued body parts to get next to you.”

  Viviana laughed aloud at the mischievous guy, who had not only answered her, but also did it with a wink as impudent as hers. She smiled at him and shook her head. Noting the name embroidered on his white uniform jacket, she said, “I hope you’re right, Marcus. Although it’s not the men in the room I’m concerned about.” With a sigh, she added, “Those, I can handle.” Without looking over her shoulder, she said, “No, my bigger concern is that angry woman who is glaring at me hard enough to drill holes in my back.”

  Pretending to busy himself with polishing one, then another of the bar glasses with a white linen napkin, the bartender nodded in agreement. “Yes, miss, I believe you might be right. If I’ve ever seen a cobra ready to strike, it may be the hostess of this little soiree.” He added conspiratorially, “Although I think she’s focusing a little lower in her attempt to drill holes in you.”

  Viviana threw back her head and laughed aloud. Leaning forward, revealing even more luscious, creamy skin, she grinned at the bartender, whose eyes were sparkling with mirth. “Why, Marcus, are you telling me that Madam Ortiz is after my ass?”