The Flyboy's Temptation (14 page)

* * *

J.T.
HELD
H
OPE
while she slept, the scratchy bedding a welcome blessing after spending so much time in the rain forest.

He should've been exhausted after everything they'd done. Hell, the walls had proven thin, as one of the guys had banged on the wall after their third go-round.

He was going to catch hell tomorrow, he thought with a smile.

But even that entertaining thought faded when his stubborn brain returned to what was keeping him awake.

Hope had created a virus capable of knocking out the human race.

Yeah, it bothered him.

The saving grace was that she was trying to destroy it.

Which brought him to his next point of concern.

There was no way in hell Hope was going to stay put while he and the guys raided Anso's compound, and he didn't want her anywhere near that place or that sociopath.

But he knew how that conversation was going to go.

He would say, “Hope, I want you to stay behind, safe in this hotel.”

And she would respond with a flat, “No.”

And that was about how productive it would go because she was as stubborn as she was beautiful.

He tightened his hold around her and she shifted with a sigh in her sleep, blissfully unaware of his turmoil.

Like it or not, Hope was in his blood.

She was his virus.

Infecting him with something he couldn't quite shake.

He'd never get enough of her. Never kiss her hard enough, love her long enough or taste her enough times to get her out of his system.

That's a real problem, Carmichael
, a voice quipped.

Yeah, thanks, Mr. Obvious. You're no help, so shut up.

It would all come down to what they found out tomorrow.

Hell, maybe none of them were destined to survive this round.

Comforting
, he said to himself sourly.

You ought to write motivational speeches for children.

Just go to sleep.

Everything would end as it would end.

No matter what he had to say about it.

J.T. lightly kissed Hope and she turned to him in her sleep, sighing like a sleepy kitten, and he knew there was no hope for him.

She owned him.

Whether she knew it or not.

18

M
ORNING
BROKE
WITH
a drizzly rain, which seemed fitting seeing as Hope's spirits were dragging. It seemed an impossibility that they'd be able to breach Anso's compound without dying and the more she thought about it, the more she knew they were doomed from the start.

But J.T. wasn't about to let her give up.

“When the chips are down, that's when you find out what you're made of,” he said, chucking her chin with a grin, but she couldn't appreciate his sentiment and simply looked away.

“Hey, what's wrong?” he asked.

“You mean aside from the obvious?” she replied in a lowered tone so their conversation didn't reach the others. “This is crazy. We're not going to make it out of that compound alive.”

“Ye of little faith.”

She exhaled a breath of frustration. “Will you stop joking around? This is serious. I don't want you to die over this. I couldn't handle it.”

It was as much of an admission of her feelings as she would allow right now, but he seemed to understand.

J.T. pulled her close and whispered for her ears only. “This ragtag bunch of guys may seem like a bunch of wisecracking idiots, but they're the most dangerous, most well-trained bastards the military ever churned out. Trust me—if anyone can get in and out of that compound, it's them. I wouldn't entrust your safety with anyone else.”

Hope's gaze traveled to Harris, the short, blustery Irishman, who was bickering with Kirk, and then the more serious Ty, who was conferring with Teagan, and she suddenly saw them in a different light.

They were dangerous. Lurking beneath the surface of those handsome, rugged faces were men who knew how to get a job done—by whatever method necessary.

She turned to J.T., recognizing the same quality.

“Why did you retire out of the Air Force?” she asked quietly, wondering if he'd be truthful.

“I was becoming someone I didn't want to be,” he answered, and she left it at that. She could infer any sort of conclusion about his answer, but honestly, she didn't need or care to know details.

All that mattered was that he was on her side.

And so were his friends.

“I have an eidetic memory,” Hope told J.T., needing to show him that she could be helpful and not just a burden to the team. “I remember everything about the lab, including the code Anso punched in to enter. You're going to need me to get the pack.”

J.T. eyed her with respect and a little awe. “Something tells me it's a bitch to play trivia games with you.”

“I never lose,” she admitted with a cocky grin. “Let me know when you want to get your ass kicked.”

Laughing, he sneaked a quick kiss and she didn't mind in the least.

* * *

“S
O
WHO
THE
hell are we talking about?” J.T. asked, impatient to know who they were up against. “Who is this guy and why is everyone so afraid of him?”

Camille Jackson, the contact at the embassy, frowned. “You certainly tangled with the wrong person. He is universally loved and feared. The man has a lot of money and he uses it to donate to schools, as well as sponsor much-needed items for the police. Not to mention there isn't a woman in Brazil who wouldn't give a kidney to become his wife.”

J.T. didn't care if the man shit gold bricks. “That man is up to no good. He kidnapped Hope. He tried to shoot us out of the sky. The man is dangerous. I don't care if there's a statue erected in his honor in the town square—the man is bad news.”

“Doesn't sound like we're going to get much help from the locals,” Teagan said.

Camille agreed with a worried expression. “On the surface he seems the benevolent benefactor. However, there are horrific stories about Anso DeLeon that aren't so savory. The problem is proving them. The man has more money than God. I don't know how you're going to go about this without ruffling a lot of feathers or, frankly, ending up at the bottom of a hole.”

Teagan steadied J.T. with a reassuring hand. “We're not giving up. We'll find a way.”

“So, what do we do?” He looked to Teagan. “I'm out of ideas.”

But it was Camille who provided the first lead in a dead-end situation.

She lowered her voice. “It won't be easy when everyone sings the man's praises. But I do know someone who had an unfortunate run-in with Anso DeLeon. If there's anyone who would be willing to help you, it's him.”

Camille scribbled the name and address on a piece of paper and slid it across the table to J.T. “This man came to me last year saying that his daughter had been taken by Anso and she never returned. He went to the police, but they wouldn't help him. There was no way they were going to bite the hand that fed them. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do for him, either. But the man has no love for Anso DeLeon and I'm sure he would jump at the chance to finally find out what happened to his daughter.”

J.T. shared a look with Hope as he accepted the slip of paper with gratitude. He couldn't imagine a father's pain in losing his daughter without answers and suspecting who was responsible and being unable to do anything about it.

“Thank you. I appreciate your help,” J.T. said, shaking her hand. “Why did the man come to the embassy for help? Is he a US citizen?”

Camille shook her head, sadness creeping into her eyes. “He came to me because he and I were dating at the time. After the police refused to help him, he turned to me in desperation. I couldn't help, either. Eventually, the strain killed our relationship. But he is a good man and I truly hope he finds his daughter, or at least finds the answers.”

“That's awful,” Hope murmured with empathy. “Thank you for helping us.”

J.T. nodded. “We appreciate all you've done to help. I know you're probably taking a risk.”

Camille nodded. “Best of luck. I'm sorry I couldn't do more.”

They left the embassy and J.T., Hope and Teagan regrouped with the guys, who were waiting for them at a small café.

Kirk, ever the ladies' man, was enjoying the view of Brazilian beauties who seemed to be everywhere.

“I think I've found my new ZIP code. Every woman is more beautiful than the last. Do they just grow them naturally gorgeous in this country?”

J.T. smiled at Kirk's humor, but his mind was too focused on the situation. Besides, as beautiful as all the women in Brazil were, none of them held a candle to Hope. He didn't know when it'd happened to him, but Hope was all he wanted. If he didn't know better, he'd swear he'd caught dengue fever or something equally deadly because his brain wasn't operating on all four cylinders.

“So, what's the plan?” Harris asked, eager to get moving. “This place gives me a headache. Too much spice.”

J.T. shared what Camille had told them. “We'll be hard-pressed to find anyone willing to go up against the guy. Apparently, he's something of a saint in many circles. But we found one person who isn't going to be singing his praises. Apparently, the guy's daughter disappeared and he believes Anso was responsible.”

“Why would some rich guy risk everything by stealing a woman?” Harris asked. “Unless things work differently in this country, rich men don't usually have a problem finding women who want to be with them.”

“Not all women,” Hope reminded Harris with a sharp look, and immediately Harris apologized.

“Sorry, just blathering on like I do. No offense, Red.”

Hope nodded her acceptance of his apology and J.T. continued, “And I don't know, but something tells me this guy has a God complex. He has enough money that he feels he can do whatever he wants and get away with it. And in a country like this, where corruption is fairly easy to fund, his arrogance is probably well earned.”

“All right, let's find this guy and see what we can do,” Ty said. “We're on a tight time frame. If anyone finds out that we're here sniffing around, we're going to have a helluva a time getting out of this country.”

“And I have no interest in spending the rest of my life in a Brazilian prison,” Harris quipped sourly. “The food alone will kill me.”

“Mild salsa would kill that Irish gut of yours,” Kirk teased, shoving Harris. “If it ain't bland potatoes and rubbery shoe leather, you complain about your poor tummy.”

“Eat me,” Harris shot back as they squeezed into a van to check out their only lead.

Anyone with a God complex was dangerous.

And a man with more money than most small countries?

Deadly.

* * *

J.T.
LISTENED
TO
the man tell his story, rage and an inborn need for justice filling his veins.

Ricardo García was a man burning with an impotent fire. J.T. could see the pain and anguish this father felt for the loss of his only daughter and he wished, not only for Hope's sake, but also for Ricardo's, that Anso died a slow, grisly death for his crimes.

“She was a good girl, always helpful to me after her mother died. She made the best
pão de queijo
in the world.” Ricardo paused to wipe his eyes, the pain still very fresh. “She liked to buy fresh herbs at the market and that's when he saw her.”

“Anso DeLeon?” J.T. supplied, and Ricardo nodded with a hard look.

“My Carina was beautiful, too beautiful, with a kind heart, I worried.”

“What happened?”

“People said they saw DeLeon talking to her at the market. At first she found his attention flattering. She told me about him. I warned that rich men do not marry poor girls. We had nothing to offer a man such as he. I encouraged her to stay away from DeLeon. My gut said nothing but bad things could come of his attention. I did not trust that his intention was pure, and I was right. Witnesses say that my Carina was forcibly pushed into a car and she was never seen after that. I know it was DeLeon. I went to the police, but they were unhelpful, even hostile to my concerns. They said I was a stupid father to accuse a great man of trying to steal a girl when he could have any woman he chooses. But I know he took my Carina. She would never leave me alone. She was a good girl.”

“How old was your daughter when she disappeared?”

“Seventeen.”

J.T. swore under his breath. In his military career he'd seen more than his share of misery in different countries as cultures clashed, but there was no mistaking this father's pain.

The sudden warmth of Hope's hand grasping his calmed his urge to break something.

Ricardo wiped at his eyes with a stoic gesture, his gaze hardening. “I will help you. But I will kill him if I get close enough. Don't stand in my way.”

Teagan shared a look with J.T., then shrugged when Hope didn't offer any dissent. “That's your business.”

They weren't there to be the ethics police and he was grateful Hope seemed to realize that. By the sound of it, Anso DeLeon didn't bother himself with ethics or morals, so it was probably time to pay for his karma earned, anyway.

“Do you have access to guns?” Ricardo asked point-blank.

Teagan nodded.

“Good. Then I have a way to get into the compound. I've been thinking of this plan for a year, but couldn't do it alone. If you have the guns, I have the plan.”

“Sounds like a match made in heaven,” Kirk said, grinning. “Let's do this. It's been too long since I smelled the sweet aroma of gunpowder in the morning.”

“You crazy son of a bitch, you need your head checked,” Harris growled, but he had that hungry look, too, and J.T. knew he had the best possible team for the job.

Even if they all went down in a hail of gunfire...at least he knew they'd take out a few of the bastards as they went down.