“If they think you’re dead?”
“The account is closed and my trying to access it sets off every alarm in western civilization.”
“I think we should go for it. It’s the only way we’ll know. If your own agency set you up the account will be closed. Someone in another agency wouldn’t report your death—it would call attention to them—and the account will be open.”
“Might as well get to it.” Rico unlocked and opened a cabinet containing computer equipment, cameras, a printer and scanner. She was right. If the bank transfer was blocked, he would have the answer. The screen lit up.
Olivia’s hand clamped down on his.
“Can they track your IP address?”
“I use two proxy servers. It would take weeks to pinpoint my location.”
Motionless they stared at the screen. She released his hand and he went to work.
They opened two new accounts. A Swiss account for him and another Cayman account—in a false name—for her. Showtime. Olivia leaned over one shoulder, her hand gripping the other. With each keystroke her grip tightened. Tension built in his body from anticipation and the nearness of her. If her breast brushed against him once more…
“Dolphins are losing this year,” he muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing. I was talking to myself.”
Account information filled the screen. “It’s open.” Immediately he transferred the money to the Swiss account. Once it cleared, he transferred it to the account she would use. Then Rico moved her nine hundred thousand. In less than ten minutes it was done. He logged off and sat staring at a blank screen.
“Rico?”
“Yeah?” He turned in the chair.
“You’ve been on this case for a long time. Why is Silva still operating?”
How could such a simple question have such a complicated answer? “I’m good but not that good.” He gave her his best grin.
“Be serious. You may do this—” she made sweeping gesture with her arm, “—undercover stuff all the time. But I don’t. I take it seriously. It scares the hell out of me that you don’t.”
“It’s complicated, Olivia.”
“Bullshit. That’s what people say when they don’t have answers or can’t do their job.”
“Geez. Settle down. It is complicated. The legal system in this country demands a lot. Twenty-five years ago, what we have on him would put him away for life. We’re close, but close only counts with nuclear weapons.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. You aren’t serious,” she fumed.
Rico fumbled in a drawer for a hair band. When he finished pulling his hair into a ponytail he looked up. “Look, we ask a federal attorney for an indictment based on what we have we’d be laughed out of the building.
If
we could find an attorney who was crazy enough to file, Silva’s lawyer would slime him out in a matter of hours.”
“But how?”
“His attorney would argue he has no priors and request bail. Say it was set at ten million, Silva would have no trouble coming up with that in cash. He would leave the courthouse, get into his limo, go directly to his jet or yacht and disappear. At the very best, what we can hope for is to learn everything we can about his operations. Shut those down or make it extremely difficult for him to continue to operate here.”
“What would it take? A picture of him sitting on top of a pile of drugs?” she asked sarcastically.
“More. He could say he thought it was baby powder.”
Olivia puckered her face in disgust. “There has got to be a way.”
“Welcome to my world. It’s frustrating. We do the best we can do.”
She moved away from him. “The system stinks. You know the man is evil. He kills people. We should just kill him!”
“It’s not the system. It’s people like Silva who have ways of getting around the system. If we start skirting the system we aren’t any better than he is.”
Olivia turned on him, her eyes hard and cold.
“Don’t look at me like that. Your brother would have said the same thing.”
She reared back. “How the hell could you know what Danny would say?”
“Take it easy. You said he was a good man, a good officer. He had to believe in what he was doing. He died believing in it.”
She lowered her head.
“Olivia, I think you are overlooking something.”
“What?”
“The man who gave Danny up is just as guilty as Silva. I want to find the bastard giving agents up—
who gave me up
—as much as I want to stop the cartel. Whoever the informer is, he’s as dangerous as Silva. I want you to look for this guy.”
“Tell me what to do.”
“Later. It’s time for phase two.” He put equipment away and closed compartments.
“What’s phase two?”
“We brush up your dancing skills.”
Upstairs, Rico made his CD selections and fed them into the player.
“I repeat, what’s wrong with my dancing?”
“This is Miami, Olivia. Everyone dances well. You need to stand out.”
“I suppose you know how to make me stand out?” She bristled.
“You bet. You have to be ready for what Silva will do.”
“Do?”
“Silva is power hungry. He dominates people. His sexual appetite is well known. Where women and sex are involved he always gets what he wants.” The music began, and he extended his arm to her, jerking his fingers in a come here motion, inviting her to join him in the middle of the room. “When he sees you, he won’t stop until he has you in bed—or anyplace else he wants to take you.” Rico held his arms out and Olivia stepped into his embrace. He looked at her carefully. “Can you handle that when it happens?”
She circled her arms around him, pressing her palms against his back, and tilted her head to look into his face. “I have two choices—either I handle it or I don’t. I won’t let it get that far out of hand. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not like most women.”
Oh yeah,
that
he’d noticed. She was the most confident, self-reliant woman he’d ever met. Intelligence and strength wrapped in beauty. Yet, he struggled with a fierce need to protect her. That and his constant state of arousal.
“I’m not the girl next door,” she went on. “I’m not interested in marriage, kids and the little house in the ’burbs with the white picket fence. When I see something I want, I don’t hesitate, I go after it. My job—” she raised an eyebrow, giving him a provocative look, “—or a man. I have sex because
I
want and need it.”
The tone of voice she used was authoritative and a total turn on. His dick twitched in agreement.
“I make it very clear to men I’m the one in control. That’s how it is. I don’t want sex, they don’t get it. Not from me anyway.”
“Olivia, those are men with morals, a conscience. Silva doesn’t have either.”
“Setting me up as an interested party from a drug organization in Vancouver will allow me some protection.”
“It’ll depend entirely on you. Once you’re in there I can’t help.” He didn’t like to think of her being alone, much less with Silva.
“I’m not easily intimidated. What could he possibly do?”
He released her reluctantly, taking a couple of steps back. “Stand there.” He pointed to a spot in the center of the room. When she was in place, he went to her, standing two inches away. She backed up. He moved close again.
Olivia put her hands on his chest and pushed. “Back off.”
He grinned, pressed in closer and coiled an arm around her.
She shoved again. “I said back off.”
Sensing he was about to get smacked, he stepped back. “Lesson number one. Silva is what I call a ‘space invader.’ It’s a simple thing. He invades your personal space. You back up. He gains dominance.”
“You’re crazy. You think that will intimidate me?”
“Already did. You stepped back. It has to do with our survival instinct. Someone gets that close, you’re in danger. You step back. We develop a safe zone around ourselves—say a foot, foot and a half—only letting people in that space we trust. Silva invades, lets you know he’s the one in control. I’ve seen him do it plenty of times, mostly to women.”
“What do I do?”
“Invade first. You have an advantage. You know he’ll do this. When he does, lean in. I doubt he will back away. If he does, all the better. More than likely he’ll hold his ground, but you’ll be the one who made the first move and scored points.”
Olivia nodded.
“Lesson number two, time to dance. Come on, pretty lady.” He offered his hand.
Olivia loved to dance. Growing up in Texas, close to Louisiana, she learned to dance to Cajun music. Salsa is Cajun’s big brother. Her shoulders moved first, followed by her hips. She had to move when she heard this kind of music and doubted she could be still, even if her life depended on it. Rico stepped it up, teaching her a style of salsa that had to be the most sexual dancing she had experienced. Belly to belly. Hip to hip. Complete and total sex. He rubbed against her and showed her how to do the same. Not that she needed much instruction.
His body language became more intense, and, saying he was hot, he stripped off his shirt. He was hot all right, and hard. Forcefully, he took her into his arms and resumed dancing. Placing his lips close to her ear, he whispered what he wanted to do. His hand slid under her shirt, slowly creeping up her back, around her side and higher until his finger tips were caressing her lower breast. Was he doing this to show her what Silva would be like, or did he want her as much as she wanted him? Her belly quivered and her breath came in clipped gasps.
“You wanna stop?” he asked in a husky voice. “You sound like you’re having trouble breathing.” His lips vibrated against her ear, sending waves of chills down her body to settle in the muscles low in her stomach. “Are ya getting tired?”
Damn him. He knew it wasn’t because of the dancing.
“I’m
fine
.” She emphasized
fine
and yanked his arm. “Dance. Show me what to expect.”
As if the feel of his damp skin under her fingers wasn’t tantalizing enough, he rubbed his naked chest against her breasts sending her organs into uncontrolled spins.
“You want me?” he asked in a harsh whisper.
“No. I don’t.”
Cupping her bottom, he squeezed.
“Can I expect
that
to happen with Silva?”
“You bet.” He ground his hips against her. “And a hell of a lot more.” The feel of his erection caused a warmth to spread through the lower part of her body. She clamped her lips together to stifle a gasp.
“More than likely he’ll do this.” His hand traveled from her breast to between her legs. Instinctively, her body pressed against it.
“Not good. That’ll be taken as an invitation.” His grip tightened. They weren’t moving around the floor, only swaying. “This is a man you want to do business with. You want him to trust you. You have a lot at stake here. What are you going to do?” Rico spun her in a dizzying move. “Answer me.”
“You’re confusing me. Give me time to think,” she shot back.
“Why? Silva won’t. When you’re flying that egg beater, do you ask for time to make a decision?” He slipped his fingers under the cloth of her shorts.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Oh no.” He shook his head. “You have to figure this out. You’re supposed to be a powerful woman. One who’s come alone to broker a deal with the biggest drug lord in the world. Act accordingly. Follow your instincts.” He stroked her. “One thing you should
not
do.”
“What?” She gulped.
“Be this wet.” He kissed her.
She put a hand to his chest and muttered, “Stop,” against his lips.
Rico snapped his head back, giving her an angry glare. “Damn it, Olivia,
think!
If you can’t handle me you won’t be able to handle Silva. Trust your instincts. You’ve worked with men for years. You can do this. Think of him like a CO who’s made a serious pass. You can’t knock him on his ass, but you have to find a way to put him in his place hard and fast. Acknowledge his power, but make it clear he isn’t getting any further.” He jerked her against him. “Are you having a problem because you want me so much you can’t control yourself?” His fingers stroked her.
Olivia tensed with indecision.
“To do this you have to get your head wrapped around handling him.”
He was right. She was letting her attraction to Rico get in the way of the mission goal. She let her body respond and gave have him a look she hoped would come close to melting the soles of his shoes. She laid a hand on the side of his neck, gently caressing. Licking her lips, she rubbed against him seductively and placed her other hand on the opposite side, her arms forming an X under his chin.
“Rico.” Her voice was low and smoky.
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing against her wrist. “Yeah?”
“Get your hand from between my legs.” She smiled, purred like a kitten and increased the pressure to his neck. “Or I will break your fucking neck.”
The kitten morphed to pissed off tigress in an instant.
His hand jerked away and she returned to kitten mode, fluttering her eyelids in several exaggerated blinks. “Thank you.”
“Olivia, let up.” He groaned.
“What?” she asked with a hint of anger.
“Let up—
please.
”
Slowly she released the pressure on his carotid. “Better?”
“I moved my hand, didn’t I?” he said, massaging his neck.
She pouted. “Are you going to tell me how I did?”
“Better.” He was rubbing his neck with both hands now and she had to smile. “Don’t make threats. If you don’t or can’t carry through, you’ll lose ground fast.”
“That wasn’t a threat, Rico. If you hadn’t moved your hand you’d be on the floor now. The same will happen with Silva.”
“And you’ll be dead thirty seconds after he hits the floor.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Maybe no one will care he’s dead.”
She leaned in and began leading him, moving slowly. “Was I intimidating enough?”
“That voice and the look on your face were good enough for me.”
“They would be a good tactic?”
“Could be.”
Breathing heavy, she asked, “I can start with the look for plan A and go to the neck for plan B?”
“Okay.” He raised a hand to his neck. “Now show me that much intensity in the dancing.”