1606010948-Palace-of-the-Jaguar-Womack.doc

by Palace of the Jaguar (lit)

  Damn him! This must be the curse an old hag in Charleston had thrown at her years ago. Her prophecy that no man would ever love her was coming true. Pish! She didn’t believe that crap.

  Slumping against the door of the cab, Ali thought back to the moment Hamm had told them not to jeopardize the mission. She should have refused to go with Gun right then. At least told Hamm about her feelings toward her bastard partner.

  That would have gotten her pulled from the mission and all fieldwork in the future. Probably drummed out for conduct unbecoming.

  A familiar, almost sweet fragrance forced her to speak to Gun. He was firing up a cigar.

  “I thought you stopped that!”

  He took a long drag and then blew the smoke up in a thin stream to the roof of the cab. “You thought wrong.”

  She coughed and lowered her window, cold wind slapping her in the face as the taxi barreled down the street.

  The ride was rough on the icy pavement, and Ali wondered if they would make it to the airport without crashing into another car on the way.

  They arrived at the terminal with seconds left to meet their scheduled departure.

  Already cleared with security, Ali and Gun were still required to go to a special screening area because they were carrying. They quickly filled out papers declaring their destination and their agency identification, one copy going to the pilot and the other to airport security.

  As she signed her papers, she couldn’t help but notice the woman at the counter took an awful long time looking at his rod. Why the hell did she want to see it?

  He slowly finished up at the counter, smiling like a frigging Romeo as the counter girl told him to take care. Ali distanced herself from him, holding her arm away as he tried to help her cross the icy tarmac to board the plane. By the time her unwarranted resentment cooled, they were airborne.

  The tension hovered over them with no sign of letting up. Ali kept the complimentary headphones on and studied maps and notes she had brought with her.

  Across the aisle, Gun didn’t miss the slanted glances she shot his way when she thought he was distracted by something else. She sat stiff and isolated, her purse and the leather jacket she’d carried on board piled onto the seat next to her. He had fallen a long way down from the guy he used to be. When they first met, before he really knew Ali, he would have removed the junk and sat down by her. Now, he could read her mind and interpret what she expected from him. Most of the time.

  I get the message, baby. You don’t want company.

  He drank black coffee and wished for time to fast forward. Whatever happened, his life was in a downward spiral, and he wanted desperately to haul the past back, to hold it in a tight, comfortable ball. Damn it! He couldn’t stand her silence.

  “Donavon.”

  Well, hell. She obviously couldn’t hear him. He got up to lean over her barricade and lifted the headset on her ear.

  “Want coffee? It’s pretty damn good.”

  “No, thanks.”

  Okay. Complete failure, man.

  He went back to his side of the plane and sat down. The crackle of paper jolted his memory, and he pulled the newspaper from his jacket pocket that his mother had sent from Dallas. She had circled with a red pen the announcement that his ex-wife had given birth to twin girls and was taking them to a fine new home in the country.

  He read the part about the twins again. The thought had crossed his mind more than once since meeting Donavon. She’d make one hell of a good mama. The way she’d hovered over him when he’d been wounded told him Donavon’s heart was big and warm as Texas. He’d seen her turn to syrup whenever a kid came near them. Wonder what she’d think of the name Teke Morgan Gunnison? The boy would be named after his best friend and his father.

  He was glad for his ex-wife, really. And thankful it wasn’t him being hauled to that place in the country. Truth was, he would rather live in a pup tent with Donavon than a palace with his ex or any other woman.

  Nothing new to Gun, but he couldn’t take his eyes off his partner. She had put down her notebook and now fiddled in her purse. He groaned and looked down at the gray under the planes wings.

  He couldn’t believe his ears when she spoke to him.

  “You all right?”

  “Yeah. Fine.” He tossed the paper aside and got up to move over to her side of the aisle. “Donavon.”

  He couldn’t make the words fall from his mute tongue, the words that would tell her how screwed his life was and how much he wanted to spend it with her. But, he couldn’t.

  Talk about the job, fool. The job.

  “Want to hear my ideas?” Gun moved her coat and purse and sat beside her.

  She met his gaze and released a ragged breath. “Gun. We watch each other’s back.” She held her hand out wanting to shake on it. “Pax?”

  A truce was better than a knee to the nuts, and Gun caught her hand to solidify the peace accord. “Damn good idea.”

  I really want to kiss you right now, until I pass out from the passion.

  He was encouraged. She had melted a little. Gun figured it was safe to forge ahead. “We’ll be in New York in about thirty minutes.” He glanced at her. “Maybe we should hop on over to Bedford-Stuyvesant section as quick as possible. Try to get a lead on Conteguez.” He took another glance in her direction. “What do you think?”

  He breathed easier after she nodded and really looked at him, not at the wall behind him. Her voice broke the cold barrier between them.

  “I think we should do that, Gun.”

  She stood and made her way to the washroom. In her wake, the scent of orange blossoms lay soft in the air, reminding Gun of her true vulnerability. The gravity of their mission slammed home.

  A chill of worry swept over him. He touched the weapon under his jacket. Nothing would get in his way until the threat to Donavon was silenced by death. It had to be that way.

  Chapter 39

  They escaped the agony of waiting in line to get through LaGuardia. She relented to Gun’s insistence that he carry her large suitcase, walking fast to keep up with his long stride to the rental car.

  Gun’s behavior toward her had taken a dramatic turn. She estimated the new-guy act would last about fifteen minutes or until someone crossed him. That would be her.

  “Get in. I’ll take care of the luggage.” He unlocked the doors, and she got into the passenger’s seat.

  He was too quiet. Ali tried to keep her mind on the hours of cold walking ahead of them, but right now, her reason for living got in beside her and started the big sedan, looking grim and too damned good to ignore.

  “Feel like having a bite before we take off?” She didn’t expect much from him ever, but his quick acceptance of her suggestion startled her.

  “Sure. The hotel has a decent restaurant.” He kept his eyes on the traffic, glancing at her from time to time. “That okay with you?”

  There it was again. “Any place is fine. A hamburger sounds great.” The day Gun was submissive she would shave her head. “We can eat and walk.”

  He grinned at her. “Naw. We’ll eat at the hotel.”

  Okay, that was more like it. He’d returned to normal. She looked away and smiled, grateful he wasn’t acting like a smooth operator any longer. His true personality reeked of profanity and grabbing control, allowing no one to show him the door until he was ready to leave. This Gun she understood.

  Out in traffic, Ali let him do the driving and kept a lid on her desire to tell him he was going in the wrong direction or exceeding the speed limit. No need to start a fight yet.

  Arriving at their hotel on the Upper East Side had taken twice the time as necessary after he took a wrong turn, forcing them to back track for miles.

  Ali maintained silence after clamping her teeth together. No use telling him what a stubborn ass he was. Not yet. They finally reached the hotel, and he parked under the fancy green awning. A bellhop ran out to take the car to the underground garage, and they went inside to register
.

  The lobby was crowded with guests leaving after being stranded by the storm. She registered and stood next to Gun while he signed in. The arrangement was perfect. Separate rooms.

  Ali couldn’t help but remember the crazy, hot way they had gone into their hotel room in Bogotá. They had never given “getting to know you” a chance. Now, she was paying for her impulsive actions.

  Here she was, a woman in love with a man who had made it clear as day he was not to be had! Period.

  He held the door open, waiting for her to go inside her suite.

  What was she supposed to say or sound like? The situation was awkward and painful. Suck it up, woman. “Well, here we are.”

  He smiled a little, a far cry from his usual sexy grin. “Yeah.” He walked the few paces to his door. “See you in a few minutes. For lunch.”

  She nodded. “Right. I’ll just…”

  He didn’t wait to hear the rest of her comment, but went into his suite and closed the door.

  Inside her own suite, Ali quickly hung her extra slacks and blouses in the closet. She put her cosmetic bag in the bathroom before testing the mattress. Perfect. Too bad she would be alone.

  Considering the long, cold day ahead of her, she quickly traded her dress slacks and cashmere sweater for jeans and a heavy cable-knit pullover. Before she could grab her leather jacket and soft wool hat and gloves, Gun was knocking.

  “I’m coming.” She took her key and hurried to answer the door. He looked more like the Gun she saw in her dreams. Black leather jacket, dark blue sweater, and jeans. His gleaming black leather dress shoes had been discarded for scuffed Texas country boots. He took her breath and wasn’t even aware of it. “Hi.”

  Oh, how honkey was that? When would she be able to remember they were no longer lovers, just partners?

  His voice touched her with its deep cowboy timbre. “Hungry?”

  “Yeah. How about you?”

  “Fucking starved.”

  Oh, yes. He was definitely back, foul mouth and orgasm-causing hot looks.

  By the time they walked into the cozy restaurant, Ali had reminded herself a dozen times there was no future for them except this mission. Pull your heartstrings in and tie them tight. You’re in danger of being in love alone, forever.

  They sat at a small table near the outside entrance and ate steak burgers and fries. She loved the way Gun enjoyed his food, his bites man-sized and chewed thoroughly.

  Face it Ali, you love everything about this man, the good and the evil. Look at something else, before he sees your crazy, aching heart. Smothering a sigh, she forced her gaze away from temptation to the window.

  Gun wondered how she did it, that I don’t remember a thing look in her eyes. He was in painful distress with the need to talk of lovemaking stuff. He needed to hold her tight, to kiss her sexy lips until she clung to him for release from the sizzling desire he built in her body.

  He had filled his belly, but he could never satisfy the hunger for her passion and warmth. Right now, she looked remote, far away. He had to pull her back.

  “Donavon. Are we ready to go hunting?”

  She focused on him again and nodded. “Ready.”

  He helped her with her coat and patted her back as she walked in front of him. Outside, a gust of cold wind rushed up to meet them as they headed back to the hotel’s parking garage. He hugged her out of habit and hurried her down the driveway tunnel to get out of the wind.

  He scanned the rows of parked cars and steered her to the dark blue sedan they had rented. “Over here.”

  He didn’t know if he liked her new, accepting personality. Didn’t have the mean sparkle Donavon should have. She reached over and opened his door. That much was like her. He got in and cranked the engine. From the corner of his eye, he saw her check under her jacket. Just like him, she expected trouble.

  Getting out of the immediate area was a trick. He hated heavy traffic and horn-happy drivers. Plus, Donavon was pressing her imaginary brake to the floorboard most of the time. She was hot, but she could piss him off, too.

  “You want to drive?”

  “Yes.”

  “Forget it. I want to get there in one piece.”

  “Better let me drive, then.”

  She smirked. He looked at the bridge they were about to cross and saw long lines of cars inching along. “Next time we take the train.”

  She shrugged. “Good idea. They don’t get lost.”

  He let it pass. Some bastard pounded on the trunk of their car and gave him the finger. Ignoring the prick was hard, but he managed, and the traffic moved ahead a few feet.

  “Damn it! It’ll be sundown before we get over there.”

  She reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cigar. She lit it and stuck the fragrant cylinder of tobacco between his teeth.

  He clenched it tight and grinned at her. “Thanks.”

  “Better than a Valium, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  At last, the line moved with some meaning, and he let his mind work on the method they would use to flush that son-of-a-bitch out of the woodwork. The area would be a pretty small section of Bedford-Stuyvesant, the last section to undergo a gentrified facelift.

  When they reached the other side of the bridge, Gun turned down a residential street and hunted for a sign directing them to the historic district. Donavon craned her neck, staring up at the grand old buildings of brownstone and brick. She looked a little put out about something.

  “Damn, I wish I’d brought my camera.”

  Gun pointed to a drunk reeling against a light pole and barfing on his own shoes. “That’s a great picture.”

  She scowled and hit his arm. “You didn’t have to point it out.” Her head snapped to the left, and she yelled at him. “Here! Turn here!”

  “Hellfire, woman. I saw it.”

  Truth was, he would have missed the street sign for Stuyvesant Avenue

  . Made more notable for the honor of having the last of the wooden tenement housing.

  He didn’t like this part of the city. The further they went into the old district, the more he disliked it. What little sun there was, the tall, bleak buildings blocked out. Damn, it would be dark soon, and they hadn’t made one contact.

  At the corner, he noticed a rundown drugstore, camouflaged by the two dozen, droopy-drawered hoods loafing in front of the building. He pulled up to the curb and checked the gang out.

  “I’m going to ask these fine young hoods a few questions. They usually know what’s going on if it’s illegal.”

  “I’m coming with you.” Donavon started to release her seatbelt.

  “No. Let me talk to them first. You cover my ass from here.”

  She frowned at his telling her to stay put, but Gun saw no need to risk both their necks just to get some information. She would get over it, eventually.

  She unbuckled and sat forward, probably counting the gang and imprinting faces in her memory. “Okay, but don’t piss them off for the fun of it.”

  He wanted to laugh, but held it in. “These are young killers in training. You don’t make them mad if you can help it.” He opened the door and got out to look around, keeping an eye on the young men. “Lock the door. Now.”

  He didn’t move until he heard the metallic thump of the lock catching.

  Once again, he thought back to the night he met Donavon. He had been a carefree man with nothing on his mind but taking out terrorists and drug dealers.

  Damn it! He couldn’t be worried about her. She was an agent and could take care of herself. Yeah, well, why was his heart pounding in real life, fearing for her safety?

  His nerves crackled and the hair at the back of his neck bristled. Time to test the testosterone, boys, and I’ll bet I win.

  Chapter 40

  Watching Gun saunter off as if he belonged to that grim-faced group scraped Ali’s nerves raw. Going against Gun’s warning, she opened the car door. She got out to lean against the front fender, observing the body l
anguage of the men.

  Whatever they were saying, the noise level allowed her to only hear parts of the conversation. Most of it was filth and crazy laughing. She grimaced when one particularly skinny thug grabbed his crotch and shook it at Gun.

  The punk stepped forward to get in Gun’s face while the rest of the mob circled him.

  Okay. Enough! She unlocked her Walther PPK, gripping the handle as she walked toward them.

  The guy in Gun’s face looked over his shoulder to stare wide-eyed at Ali. The smirk vanished off his pale face. He hadn’t missed the fact she was armed.

  She pointed to him and gestured to his right. He took the hint and moved back. The rest of the pack followed suit.

  Gun waited until she stood beside him to acknowledge her presence.

  “Hey, men. This is my backup. She’s tough as God and wouldn’t mind kicking your asses.”

  She didn’t blink. She didn’t want to fight these guys. If it came to that, she’d have to shoot them, plain and simple.

  Gun glanced at her before going back to his conversation with the gang members. “Okay. While I’m looking for some good blow, I won’t be having any trouble with you, will I?”

  The skinny one leered at her, shaking his head. “No trouble.” His expression transformed into a flirtatious grin. “Hey, lady. You want to go get a coffee or something?”

  She met his insolent stare. “No, thanks. We don’t have the time.”

  Thug number one laughed. “I don’t mean him. Just you and me.”

  Wary, Ali touched Gun’s arm. “My partner and I have several places to go. We have to get moving.”

  She kept her eye on the entire group and waited for him to back her up. He did, after making her wait for what seemed like a lifetime.

  “Yeah. She’s right. Gotta lot of people to see, but we’ll probably run into you again.”

  There was a round of loud guffaws and catcalls from the gang. Ali went back to the car and got in, lowering the window as she drove up to where Gun stood. She hissed out the window at her infuriating partner. “Let’s go!”