“Knock him out?”
“For the night.”
Icy realization crept down along her body. Nathan wanted her to drug Gio. Her head was a jumbled mess of thoughts. What if this drug didn’t do what he said it would? Nathan admitted he was used to working for criminals. The Abramos were powerful and if something happened to one of them, God help the person responsible. What if that was the American’s plan? For her to kill the man waiting for her back at the bar?
“Are you insane?” she said.
“Jesus, Olivia, just think about it. Gio bought out the entire lodge. You’ve already seen him shoot a man and the owner didn’t even bat an eyelash. Why do you think that was?”
Her mouth fell open. Nathan was right. Phillip hadn’t been all that concerned with the shooting. Like he’d been prepared. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah.” Nathan’s grip tightened on her. “No one here cares if you disappear. No one . . . except for me.”
Those words did something to her. They made her breath catch in her throat. She forced air out and reminded herself who she was. She’d survived that night on the mountain, and Gio was nothing compared to that. “I meant it when I said I’ve handled worse than him.”
“He’ll kill you.”
She shook her head. “He might try.” It was surprisingly difficult to extract herself from his grasp. “I’ve got to get back before he comes looking for me.”
“Be careful.”
Gio was halfway out the door when she tried to reenter the bar, and he used the sudden proximity as an excuse to touch her. He was holding the bottle of vodka he must have demanded from the bartender, and he grabbed her hip with his other hand, leading her toward the main door of the lodge. The wicked expression on his face announced what he wanted from her.
Never going to happen.
“Nathan,” he snapped when he noticed the bodyguard lingering nearby, following it with a brief statement.
Nathan’s expression went dark. “He’s asked me to escort you both to your room.”
She almost giggled with disbelief at how presumptuous the Italian was, but refrained. Nathan looked pissed that his plan of her drugging the drink had been thwarted. Or maybe it was Gio’s hand on her that was angering him? Because, yeah, that pissed her off too.
They stepped out into the cool night air, and Olivia gently urged his hand off of her. “Tell him I don’t want my flight crew to see.”
They’d barely made it down the path when Gio turned, snaked his arm around her back, and yanked her close so he could slam his lips against hers with no warning. His mouth and slimy tongue tasted like vodka. When the unwanted kiss was over, his gaze swung right to Nathan and delivered a shit-eating grin. Like he was rubbing it in his bodyguard’s face.
Gio’s attention returned to her, and the Italian that came from him was delivered with a lewd expression.
“Any chance he was saying good night?”
Since Gio’s back was turned, Nathan let his dark gaze fill with disgust. If looks could kill, Giovanni Abramo would most certainly be dead. “He wants to sleep with you.”
“I know you’re giving me the PG-13 version, but you don’t need to do that for me.”
“I’m not doing it for you,” he snapped. “I don’t want you thinking that his words are mine just because they come from my mouth. I’d like to sleep with you, too, but I sure as shit wouldn’t say it like that.”
His admission created a flurry in her brain. The strong, handsome, intense American man desired her. But if he wanted to sleep with her, why hadn’t he when she’d thrown herself at him? Suddenly, he could care less about admitting it. Hands on his hips and a scowl on his face, he glared down at his oblivious employer, who went on the move again. Every step that brought them closer to her cabin brought her heart closer to beating out of her chest.
She had a plan. Not much of one, but at least it didn’t involve drugging or potentially killing her employer. When they reached her cabin, Gio passed the bottle of vodka to Nathan and pushed Olivia against the door, attempting to kiss her again. She set a hand on his jaw and eased him back.
“No,
signore
. This is where our evening has to end.” She waited as Nathan delivered her words in Italian, doing her best to appear disappointed with the situation. “I’m sorry, but you’re my employer and it’d be unprofessional.”
Gio tugged her hand away and leaned back in as Nathan’s voice rang out. “He said he doesn’t care about that.”
“Being a female pilot is tough enough, I don’t need to add a reputation of sleeping with clients to that.” Her insides clenched as she geared up to deliver the lie. “Even if I want to.”
“
What?”
Nathan looked horrified.
“Tell him,” she ordered.
Nathan’s words fell on Gio and his face widened into a huge grin, followed by a response.
“He said if that’s the issue stopping you, he’ll solve it. He’ll fire you right now and rehire you in the morning.”
Nice try, Gio.
“No. Tell him I want this to happen, but we’ll have to wait until we’re back in Rome and my contract is up.”
Was that a sigh of relief from Nathan right before he translated? She could read his lies, and he seemed to be able to read hers. Surely he understood that her plan was to delay Gio until she was out from under the Abramos, and then she’d bolt.
But she’d need to be convincing. To hammer the point home to Gio, she leaned in, brushed her lips lightly over his, and fought the urge to gag. Gio’s face flooded with disappointment, and abruptly his hands closed on her waist. His tongue was invasive and probing in her mouth, and his hand drifted behind and lower so he could squeeze her, hard.
“Wait, wait . . .” She tried to break free.
She heard Nathan’s hurried and angry words to Gio, but the only word she understood was Vitale. Then, English for her. “Use what I gave you. Slow him down.”
It was hard to see beyond the evil man in her face, whose eyes were full of carnal desire, but there was a thud and rustling beyond Gio, followed by a distinct click, and a wall of hard muscle flattened Gio against her. Nathan had just taken off the safety on his gun, and his large back was a shield around them.
“Stop.
Vries.
” The command from Nathan was loud and terrifying.
“Fermatta.”
“Giovanni,” a familiar male voice in the darkness answered back, sounding uneasy.
“Renzo?” Gio said, setting a hand on Nathan’s back, signaling he wanted his bodyguard to lower the weapon. With Gio’s attention firmly on this new person, his grip on her fell away and she gasped with relief. Renzo stepped into view, and she recognized him instantly. Vitale’s assistant. He was approximately the same age as Gio. Young, but his dark hair had already begun to thin and patches of his scalp were visible. He had one of those faces that rested in an ugly sneer.
Even though she didn’t understand what they were saying, there was clear tension between the two Italians. Nathan put his gun away, but his focus remained on Renzo, studying him.
“Go inside,” Nathan commanded her, not even turning his head to look her direction. “Lock your door.”
With pleasure,
she wanted to scream. She dashed in. Only when she had slammed the door shut and locked it was she able to breathe again.
-7-
Ethan wondered why the hell Vitale had sent Renzo Librizzi down to South Africa.
“What are you doing here?” Gio demanded. He bent and picked up the bottle of vodka from the grass where Ethan had thrown it when he pulled his SIG Sauer on Renzo.
“I came to collect you.” Renzo’s gaze swept over Ethan with suspicion. “Where is your room?”
“This way.” As the men made their way to Gio’s cabin, Ethan followed behind and tried to stay focused on their conversation, struggling not to think about the disaster that had been narrowly avoided on Olivia’s doorstep.
“Your father needs you back immediately,” Renzo said.
“He could have called and saved you the trip.” Gio uncapped the vodka and drank straight from the bottle.
“I believe he did call. Yesterday, and the day before.”
“I told him I’d be back in a few days—”
“He needs you home now,” Renzo said, his beady eyes unrelenting. “It’s urgent.”
Renzo Librizzi was a lapdog. He took orders from Vitale like they were directions from God himself, and it was no secret he hated Vitale’s disobedient son. Ethan had that in common with Renzo. But it was a bad sign that he was here. What had happened to warrant Vitale to send his right-hand man?
“Will you be in for the rest of the evening?” Ethan asked Gio when he threw open his door. The son-of-a-bitch’s gaze went out across the lawn, down the path toward Olivia’s cabin, and that simple glance made Ethan’s hand tighten on the doorframe.
“Yes,” Renzo replied for Gio, with a sneer. “Giovanni and I have a lot to talk about. You’re dismissed.”
Ethan nodded and waited for the door to bang shut before taking off for his cabin. His fingers fumbled over the screen of his phone, tapping out the correct sequence to prepare his listening devices to broadcast to satellite.
“Turn up the feed,” Ethan said when he phoned Daniel, not bothering with a greeting. “Renzo Librizzi just showed up.”
Ethan paced his room while listening to the two Italians’ heated discussion come through his laptop speaker. In a dreary conference room somewhere in Germany, he knew a team of analysts were listening in as well. He’d been there once. Listening to field ops and itching to get out there himself. Now, what he’d give to trade places.
“I’ll be back in Rome,” Gio said, “in another day—”
“Constantine’s dead,” Renzo spat out. “I’m sorry. Your father wanted to tell you himself, but you won’t come home.”
“Shit,” Ethan said out loud.
There was a long pause before Gio spoke, probably digesting the information that his little brother was dead. “How?”
“Looks like a gunshot. It’s hard to know. The autopsy proves this happened months ago.”
The Abramos had the body? Who the fuck dropped the ball on that?
It had been almost nine months since Constantine’s death, so the Abramos surely presumed him dead. Gio’s voice was flat and unemotional. “Who does my father suspect?”
Ethan held his breath. Every cell in his body awaited the answer to this question, to know how deep the trouble was.
“He’s not sure, but he thinks this is connected with Juric. Are you going to come home and help your father, or stay here in Africa like a spoiled child?”
Ethan ignored the next bit as it devolved into shouting and what sounded like shoving between the Italians. Renzo and Gio were impulsive and a lot alike, which was part of the reason why they didn’t get along. When they finally calmed, Gio agreed to leave in the morning, and sent Renzo off to one of the vacant cabins.
Ethan discussed his position with Daniel and chose to hang tight unless things spiraled further out of control. Gio prepared for bed, and the audio went quiet.
Tomorrow they’d fly back to Rome, and Olivia would be gone. She was smart and would abandon the Abramos the first chance she got, and Ethan would never see her again. He should have stayed and listened to the recording devices for any further activity, but instead his feet carried him swiftly down the path toward her.
Your mission is not to protect Olivia.
He’d put everything in jeopardy passing her that drug, which he was going to have to get back, and that was the justification he needed for going. To get the drug and nothing else.
He was so full of shit.
He should have been more focused on his environment and not on her. There were snakes. There could be lions or leopards in the bush, or he could come around the bend and startle a troop of baboons and find himself outnumbered. But he could move as silently as the other predators in the brush.
He tapped his knuckles on the glass of her door and when there was no instant answer, he peered in through the break in the curtain. Where was she? His impatience drew the custom Swiss-Army knife from his back pocket, and fifteen seconds later he pushed the newly unlocked door open.
The faucet in the bathroom was running, and it sounded like she was brushing her teeth, probably having a hard time getting the taste of sleaze out of her mouth. The logical side of his brain sounded an alarm. This was not his purpose. He should not be standing in the room he’d just broken into, waiting for her. He’d already spotted the vial on the table, so he could grab it and slip out undetected.
When she rounded the corner, she gave a startled cry. “What are you doing in here?”
“You have something of mine.”
Her beautiful eyes were filled with caution, but she gestured to it. “It’s there.”
His stupid feet took him to the table and he pocketed the vial.
Time to go
, logic ordered. Yet he couldn’t make himself move. He stood there, staring at her. The rapid rise and fall of her chest was hypnotic, and he needed to stop looking at her that way.
“Okay.” Her voice was peppered with annoyance. “You got what you came for. What are you still doing here?”