A Dangerous Engagement

by Candace Irvin

  "It's not far."

  They continued on in silence, turning down two more streets before reaching a dead end and, at the moment, vacant alley. He spotted the neon glow of the Iguana at the end. Halfway down the cobbled alley, he was burning up again, this time with curiosity. He'd never met a woman so enamored with holding her thoughts, much less her tongue, as this one.

  What the devil was she thinking about?

  By the time they reached the front door of the Iguana and paused to wait for a trio of middle-aged male tourists, with a teenaged working girl hanging on each arm to exit, Tom was pretty sure he knew. Anna laid her hand on his as Tom retrieved the door from the trailing stud, waiting until the herd cleared the front of the club, and crossed the narrow cobbled street. "Thank you."

  He was right. She was thanking him for the hacienda, the pen. Getting her away from both before her cousin finished his latest call and changed his mind about accompanying them. Tom clamped down on the stubborn spurt of compassion and forced himself to listen to his instincts as he tipped her chin. His professional instincts.

  "I've got an idea. How 'bout we leave everything at the door? Just bring ourselves inside. No Luis, no pending plans or employment status. Just you and me. What do you say? You game for a good old-fashioned date?"

  * * *

  A date? With him? Was he serious?

  Anna blinked up at Tom, shoving her shock aside as she searched his face for the slightest hint that he was leading her on. At the very least, attempting to lull her into a false sense of security. Her efforts were in vain. The light spilling down from the club's namesake had blended with the darker, hypnotic blue of the man's eyes. All she could make out was pure sex appeal. Intense, unwelcome sex appeal. She opened her mouth and promptly closed it. After the night she'd had, it was probably better to keep it shut anyway. Wait for him to make the next move…and the next. Then she'd decide if he was simply attempting to use her again.

  Before she had the chance, another crowd of locals, already well past tipsy, turned down the alley and converged on the bar from behind them. She and Tom stepped away from the door by tacit agreement and waited for the guys to enter. The door snicked shut, leaving the muted sounds of traffic and the city behind…and her traitorous stomach.

  Tom chuckled as the embarrassing rumble died out. "Looks like I'm not the only one who could use a burger."

  She was starving. And she didn't want to face Luis or that damned pen. Nor could she afford to return to the hacienda without at least appearing to submit to Luis's vile and, as of this afternoon, now openly stated request. She couldn't even blame Foster for this dilemma. In handing over Eve's list, she'd sealed her own fate. Maybe Luis and Foster were right. It wouldn't hurt to get to know the man. It might even help her to put the gnawing suspicion to rest, especially after the compassion he'd displayed over that pen. If Tom Wild was Manny's replacement and not just some thug for hire, what better way or time to find out? She nodded warily. "Okay. No Luis tonight, no job. But no date either, just dinner."

  "Great."

  She swore she caught a sliver of relief hiking his grin. She must have imagined it. Before she could decide, much less draw her next breath, Tom swung the Iguana's door wide and swept her into the crowded, smoky bar. For once she didn't mind the stench of tobacco. The blissfully cooler air made up for the nauseating mix of unfiltered cigarettes and pungent cigars as Tom linked his fingers into hers to lead her through the crush of noisy bodies waiting to be seated. Even after he'd produced that map, she'd assumed Tom had been exaggerating his status with the bar's host. She changed her mind as an Hispanic, ponytailed giant decked out in a Hawaiian shirt that was loud even by Panamanian standards spotted her escort and lunged toward them. The man's blinding grin put out more wattage than the bar's fifty-odd hurricane table lamps combined.

  "Wild Man, you made it!" Tom released her hand as the neon bear whacked him across his shoulders. The bear hooked an arm about Tom's neck, hauling him in tight as they turned to include her. "And you've brought a guest. Excellent."

  She stared up at Tom. "Wild Man?"

  She had the satisfaction of watching him flush beneath the muted glow of kerosene.

  "It's a long story."

  "I'll bet." The night might prove useful after all.

  Tom slipped his arm about her waist in lieu of a response and drew her closer as he faced their host. "Anna, meet Julio Ramos—also known as Juju due to a shameless addiction to said candy. Juju, Anna Shale. She's ex-military, too—Navy. I applied for a gig with her cousin's company. Ortiz Imports."

  "Outstanding." Juju barked an order over his shoulder in their native tongue. Within seconds his bouncer had released the rope holding the horde around them at bay. Juju abandoned Tom's shoulder, hooking his arm around Anna's as they passed through the crowd. He winked down at her. "Maybe you can convince this guy to linger if the job doesn't pan out, eh?"

  She smiled. "We'll see. I haven't known your friend long, but something tells me he's a man who doesn't linger anywhere, let alone for anyone…especially with a nickname like that."

  Juju burst out laughing. Genuine respect gleamed in his dark eyes as they reached a rare, empty table fifteen feet from the bar. "For you, Anna, he might. You may not have known mi amigo perdido largo for long but you know him better than most." His grin flashed. "Certainly any woman who's had the misfortune to precede you."

  Tom cuffed his friend across the shoulder, forcing Juju to relinquish his hold on her. "That's enough, buddy. Back off and get your own woman, or at least stop flirting with mine." Tom's grin took the sting out of the accusation as he drew a chair away from the table so she could sit.

  Juju just shook his head. "Face it, gringo, you're out of your league this time."

  Tom just laughed. "Wrong. You are. The lady prefers blondes."

  Anna blinked up at Tom as he dragged his own chair away from the tiny table and hunkered down opposite her. Homework, hell. He'd run a full-out background investigation on her, culling details even the Navy had ignored—in the span of a week. Shock warred with indignation. Before she could act on either, the arrogant jerk punctured both with a conspiratorial wink. She tucked the revelation aside. For now.

  Juju shrugged his defeat and tipped his head toward the bar. "Name your poison, Anna." He flashed her a grin. "The more expensive, the better, 'cause it's on the house."

  "Coke will be fine."

  Was it her imagination, or had Juju stiffened?

  He must have, because just like that, the atmosphere at the table shifted, tensed. Turned silent. It was magnified by the sudden swell in conversation, laughter and clink of glasses and silverware among the tables surrounding them.

  Tom frowned at his friend as he finally broke it. "She was referring to the soft drink, Juju."

  "Right. Just a minute."

  Before Anna could respond, Juju left. She turned to Tom.

  His frown dipped lower. "You did mean soda, didn't you?"

  "Yes." She winced because it came out more a hiss. A self-defensive, guilty hiss.

  "Hey, just thought I should make sure." He held up a hand. "And, no, not because of yesterday. There's something you should know. Juju and I go way back. We roomed together plebe year at West Point. His dad was a hero in Nam. Awarded the Medal of Honor. But, uh, Juju only completed four out of his five-year commitment after graduation and commissioning."

  "What happened?" But she knew.

  Juju's rumble behind her confirmed it. "Whiz quiz."

  Random urinalysis testing. The man had popped for drugs.

  Anna flinched as Juju reached around her to thump her fountain soda, a shot glass and a brand-new bottle of Scotch on the scuffed but polished table. He hooked a boot into the bottom rung of a spare chair from the table beside them and dragged it to theirs to straddle it backward. Juju appeared as startled as she as Tom stood abruptly.

  "Everything okay, amigo?"

  Tom stared him down. "Been trapped in a study all evening.
Need to visit the latrine. That okay with you, Mom?"

  Juju flashed another grin. "Suppose so. Hell, do my job while you're at it. The kitchen's two doors past the men's room, on the right. Stop in and place an order for you and your lady with Benigno—on the house, of course. You can't miss him. He's the two-hundred-pound Kuna Indian octopus working the grill."

  Tom captured her gaze. "Anna?"

  He was asking for more than her order. He was also asking her permission to leave her with a stranger. The simple courtesy shouldn't have softened her resolve against this man, but it did. "That burger you mentioned will be fine."

  Tom held her gaze a moment longer, then nodded again and turned. She watched him thread his way through the postage-stamp tables until he'd reached an open doorway to the right of the bar and disappeared from view. She swung her gaze back to Juju's. Once again, silence reigned.

  She cleared her throat softly. "I'm sorry. We shouldn't have discussed your private—"

  "Why not?" He shrugged. "I did the crime, so I gave up the time, so to speak. And forfeited my commission."

  "Was it a…one-time thing?" Not that it would have mattered. Not with the military's zero tolerance at full throttle these past few years. Still, she had no business wondering, much less asking. Unfortunately, given the events of her life lately she was driven to both.

  "Nope." He pushed the bottle of Scotch to the exact center of the table, then nudged the shot glass beside it. "Probably a good thing I got caught when I did. As it is, I got to face up to my sins and repent before I crawled back here and took over—" he swept his arms out to encompass the smoky bar "—this place." He dropped his arms and settled over the scuffed but polished teak.

  She had no idea what to add. She didn't have the nerve to ask what she really wanted to, so she retrieved her soda and fingered the condensation beading around the outside of the glass, instead. When Juju didn't pick up the conversation, she took a sip—and grimaced. The Coke was flat.

  "You sure I can't get you something stronger?"

  She froze. Surely he wasn't offering what she thought he was offering? Given the way her nerves and her chest had begun throbbing, he was. She shifted her gaze beyond the man's shoulders, to the bar. It was past nine now, the working girls were out in full force. Prostitutes outnumbered the pre-Carnaval celebrants by two-to-one, at least at the bar. She studied the remaining patrons, specifically, the locals. Sure enough, most appeared to be waiting their turn for more than just booze. The subtle, swift white-powder transaction at the far left confirmed it. Juju's attention was still focused solely on her when she turned back.

  It was unnerving. For more reasons than she could count.

  She swallowed her next sip of soda carefully and chose her words even more carefully. "I thought you repented."

  "I did." He shrugged. "But, I can't assume responsibility for anyone else's sins, now can I?" In other words, Juju might not use anymore but he did deal. From the deliberate arch in his brow, he was also offering.

  Where was Tom when she needed him? Because, despite the fact that the bastard had obviously set her up, she did need him. And that pissed her off.

  She used the betrayal. It gave her the strength to hold Juju's dark gaze, to keep from bowing beneath it. She did not want to know this man. Not now and not here. Not when she could feel her world crumbling around her brick by brick with every passing hour. She caved in to the only need she could afford to feed at the moment, breaking off her stare and shifting it to the bar and the doorway to the right. Still no sign of Tom. She begged him to hurry.

  Tom could order her a week-old tuna fish sandwich for all she cared so long as he hurried. When he didn't, she slipped her hands beneath the table and dug her nails into her palms as she focused on the bottle of pills in her purse—and the promise Sam had secreted amid them. It helped. "Juju, I think the bartender's motioning for you."

  They both knew the bartender had done no such thing.

  She held her breath anyway, releasing it only after Juju stood, returned his chair to the next table, nodded politely and left. It wasn't until Juju rounded the bar that she drew her hands from beneath the table and noticed the raw indentations her nails had left. She rubbed the sting from her palms as Juju headed off toward the restrooms and kitchen. She might have been out of the Navy these past three months, but she knew a pending debrief when she saw one—whether or not she'd be permitted to sit in on it. Not that it mattered.

  She'd be gone before they finished.

  Chapter 5

  Tom took one look at Anna as he stepped into the bar and knew—he'd miscalculated. Badly. No matter how much he'd needed to visit the latrine, he never should have left her alone with Juju. Not when he knew Juju had his own DEA agenda to account for. An agenda that had to have included Luis Ortiz for over a year now in some way, shape or form—whether Juju had copped to it or not. The moment Juju had walked into the hall Tom realized that, despite their agreement, he'd put that agenda first. Juju had offered Anna drugs.

  God willing, he wasn't too late.

  Tom threaded his way back across the smoky bar as quickly as he dared, counting down his heartbeats as Anna grabbed the cell phone from her purse and began punching out what had to be that no-neck gorilla's phone number. By the time he'd reached the table, she'd hit the first six digits. He closed his hand over the touch pad a split second before her finger could connect with the send button. She glared up at him.

  "Go away."

  He shifted his grip, grabbing her hand as well as the phone. "Look, I'm sorry. I ran into Juju outside the kitchen. He told me what he did. He was afraid he'd screwed up—and he did. If you've changed your mind about having dinner here, I'll understand. Just don't—"

  "—change my mind about you?" Hurt flooded her dark eyes. "Too late." Damned if that churning pain didn't cut into him.

  He clamped down on his hand, as well as that insidious compassion. "Please don't."

  "Why not? Why should I trust you? Why should Luis?" She tried wrenching the phone from his hand. When he refused to release it, she jerked her chin to the unopened bottle of Scotch Juju had left behind. "You couldn't even make it past the first drink before you broke your word."

  He stiffened. "I did not break my word."

  "The hell you didn't. You told him!"

  Tom winced as Anna's voice carried across the smoky room, straight up to a pair of half-tanked tourists at the next table…and the next. Fortunately, both sets of morons appeared more interested in leering at Anna's stunning face than listening to her words. Tom shifted his body, hooking his free hand to the back of his chair. He dragged it closer, blocking the men's view as he sat down beside her. Right beside her. He knew she'd felt the spike in his body heat by the way she'd dropped her attention to the phone. To their hands. The pulse at the base of her neck kicked up its pace as she swallowed—and it wasn't due to desire. More like fury.

  "Will you please release me?"

  He leaned closer, dropping his voice to a murmur. "Will you give me a chance to explain?" He waited as she sucked in her breath, then released it in a rush. Her pulse continued to heighten along with her anger. He couldn't blame her. She believed he'd set her up. He had. But not for this. Never for this.

  Juju was dead wrong. Offering the woman dope had been a lousy decision all the way around. At the very least, it would affect his mission. But if she turned on him now and outright walked out? He could kiss two weeks of painstaking preparations goodbye, along with any chance of finding out what her cousin was up to in time to prevent it. He tried not to focus on the crowd of locals and tourists, each one a potential target, as Anna continued to glare at him.

  "Please."

  She shook her head. "I gave you a chance. Last night. My terms were quite clear. Why should I give you another?"

  He sighed. "You don't understand—"

  "Wrong. It's you who doesn't. Not that I even care." Her fury still raged. But at least she'd kept her voice to a whisper, albeit a see
thing one.

  "Well, I do. Explain it to me."

  "I already told you last night. I can't. But it's not what you think. I know you didn't believe me, but you did agree to keep your trap shut."

  "And I did."

  "To Luis, yes." She jerked her chin toward Juju as he stepped behind the bar. He'd already warned the man to stay the hell away from them. "What about your friend? Just how long do you think it'll be before he goes running to Luis?"

  Never. Unfortunately, there was no way he could prove it, not without blowing his cover and his mission. Tom went on the offense. It was his only hope. "I didn't tell Juju anything. From what he told me in the hall, neither did you. As for that offer he made, the man picked up on your vibes, lady, not mine." Tom ignored the guilt as he finished spinning out the lie. He'd learned a long time ago to push past the regret. It was the only way to work a mark effectively.

  That was all this woman was. A mark. That was all.

  "Dammit, I didn't tell him. Ask that bartender when he returns if you need to. Hell, ask anyone else who works here, including the girls working the bar. This is bound to be a regular pickup spot for one or two of them." He released her hand and slipped his fingers beneath her chin, coaxing her face to his so he could capture her mutinous stare. "Anna, I swear to you, this is the first time I've stepped foot in here. I ran into the man today in the lobby of my hotel. Not to mention, your cousin hunted me down. Luis flew me here a week ago. I just met you yesterday. How could I set something up—set you up—this fast?"

  He watched her work through his logic. He wasn't worried. He might have made it up on the fly, but it was sound. After what happened to Manny, he'd been adamant about using a third-party thug referral on this job and the time and effort were paying off. He could see it in her eyes.

  It was her instincts he was worried about.

  Lieutenant Shale might not have been a trench operator, but from everything he'd read in her official file, she was an exceptionally savvy Asian intelligence analyst—or had been until she'd sold out. When the fingers beneath his loosened from the phone, he knew his argument was working. He took a chance and pushed it as he slipped her cell phone from her fingers. He tucked the phone into her purse and shoved the sleek leather bag into her hands as he sighed. "You don't believe me? Fine. Let's go. We can ditch the burgers I ordered and eat someplace else—someplace you choose—or I can see you back to that no-neck limo driver and grab something by myself. It's up to you, honey. I don't much care."