The Flyboy's Temptation (7 page)

8

A
LEJANDRO
R
UIZ
WAS
a short, stout man with a ready smile and a twinkle in his brown eyes that immediately put Hope at ease after their bumpy ride to Comitán.

Hope paid him an exorbitant sum without blinking, just happy they were on their way. The faster they were up in the air, the faster they got to South America, where she could destroy this ticking time bomb on her back.

J.T. helped Hope climb into the small plane and then, after they were buckled in, Alejandro started his preflight checklist. Both Hope and J.T. slipped on headsets to protect their ears from the sound of the engines as well as to communicate.

“So where is this research facility located?” J.T. asked once they were airborne.

Hope hesitated to answer. Originally, she'd planned to turn J.T. loose as soon as they landed in São Paulo, Brazil, trusting that she could find transport to the remote location on her own. But since the situation had changed drastically, she wasn't sure heading off on her own was such a smart idea.

“It's a remote area in Brazil, not very populated.”

“Makes sense for a supersecret privatized pharmaceutical facility,” J.T. remarked with his signature dry humor. “So, what's going to happen when we get to this undisclosed location?”

This was the part that had her awake at night. The fact was, no one knew she was going to the facility to destroy the samples. She'd been ordered to report to the South American lab to protect the samples, but when her supervisor, Tanya, intercepted a message that someone within Tessara was brokering a deal for the dangerous bioweapon, she'd sent Hope off under the guise of bringing the samples for protection.

The plan had been for Tanya to accompany her, but then Tanya had been gunned down in broad daylight outside a sandwich shop, changing everything.

She was doing J.T. a disservice by keeping him in the dark, but she couldn't think of any other way to accomplish what she'd set out to do without putting him in even more danger.

“You seem on edge,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“I'm good.” Hope faked what she hoped appeared to be a bright smile. “Just relieved to be back on schedule.”

J.T. settled against the worn leather chair with a nod, but there was something behind his eyes that told her he wasn't buying her act.

If only she could tell him. She'd known J.T. for only a few days, but she trusted him more than she trusted anyone else in her life.

Maybe it was that extreme-situation-hormonal-chemical thing striking again, because she just wanted to lean into him, tell him everything and ask him for advice on what to do next.

Even if her situation hadn't required her silence, her stubborn refusal to play the damsel in distress would've kept her from sharing, too.

Sometimes being a strong, independent woman had its drawbacks.

Exhausted, both mentally and physically, Hope drifted off to sleep, happy to forget at least for a little while that her life would never be the same after they landed in São Paulo.

* * *

J.T.
WAS
GLAD
for the sleep he'd snagged in the back of the truck because he wouldn't have been able to sleep on the plane with a pilot he didn't know. It wasn't that he didn't trust Teagan's connections; it was that he didn't trust anyone in the cockpit besides himself or his brother.

In other words, it wasn't personal.

Hope was fast asleep. He felt vaguely bad for keeping her up all night, but then, he couldn't exactly feel too bad, because he'd do it again in a heartbeat.

That woman was hotter than any woman he'd ever been with. The smart-and-sexy-scientist gig was working for him, better than what he'd thought was his thing.

But now that he'd been with Hope, he found his usual taste distasteful.

He used to like a woman who wasn't too smart.

He didn't want to discuss politics or global warming when he was stripping down. He wanted a woman who liked it dirty and hot and didn't waste time trying to have an intellectual connection.

Now?

Hope had ruined him.

J.T. found her smarts incredibly sexy. He liked the idea of seducing her mind
and
body.

Tall order for a woman as intelligent and highly educated as Hope.

And the challenge fired him up in a way that'd been missing for quite some time in his life.

So what did that mean? After this gig, assuming they made it out alive, they were destined to go their separate ways.

Hope hadn't once suggested that after this was all over they would continue to see each other.

Well, he hadn't, either. But he hadn't received any green light on her end that she'd be open to that suggestion, so he wasn't about to put himself out there only to be shot down.

Yeah, not so crazy about the idea of being rejected.

But he was equally bothered by the idea of walking away, never to see each other again.

Hell, he was turning into a woman.

He knew a little about Brazil and figured they were going to land in São Paulo, but as they flew over the main city, J.T. got a bad feeling in his gut.

“Where are we landing? We just passed São Paulo.”

“I don't have clearance for São Paulo. I have a friend with a small airfield, off the grid. We will land there. No worries, friend. I will take care of you and your lady.”

Yeah, J.T. didn't like the sound of that. But what could he do? They had no choice, but to ride it out and hope that Alejandro wasn't about to murder them.

All for that damn pack. He wished he were a different sort of person and could rifle through the pack without her knowledge without suffering a bout of conscience.

He wanted to tell himself that it wasn't the fact that she had secrets. Hell, they all had secrets, right? There were things in his past he didn't want people poking around in, but his secrets weren't shooting at them. Or was he just being a whiny baby, pissed because she was keeping some things close to the vest?

He wasn't accustomed to women holding themselves apart. Usually, women were pushing for a deeper connection, when he was the one trying to get away.

He liked to tell himself that he was a confirmed bachelor—a happily confirmed bachelor—but the fact was, it was easier to remain without strings than to trust another human being with something as battered and bruised as his heart.

He wondered what Hope would think of his past if she knew everything he'd been through while serving in the military. He wasn't one of those people who lamented the loss of his innocence when called to serve his country, but there were some things in his past that he would love to forget.

J.T. knew basically nothing about Hope aside from what she had told him. Hell, she could be lying through her teeth and he wouldn't be the wiser.

Hope was rapidly becoming like a drug in his system. He wanted more even though he knew more would likely kill him. Everything about her set him on fire.

Even her secrets.

It had been a long time since he'd had to use his military training, but it came back like riding a bike—the threat of a sketchy situation had him on alert. He didn't like the idea of landing in some airfield in the middle of nowhere. The fact that somebody was trying to kill them didn't make him feel very safe, despite Alejandro smiling and nodding as if everything was kosher.

“So where is this airfield?”

“No worries, friend. I've done this before. You are in good hands.”

Yeah, that didn't fill him with relief. South America was nearly as bad as Mexico with illegal drug running. They might have just gone from the frying pan to the fire. J.T. thought of the wad of cash Hope was carrying and he couldn't have felt more like a Christmas hog than if he'd been bound and trussed up with an apple in his mouth.

He would've felt more assured if he'd been able to talk to Teagan's contact first.

Hope stirred and yawned as she awoke. She blinked blearily at J.T. with a sleepy smile and he returned a brief smile so as not to worry her.

“Are we there yet?”

“We're not landing in São Paulo,” he told her. She reacted with a flutter of alarm, but he quickly tried to reassure her, if only to keep her calm. “Alejandro doesn't have clearance for the city's airfield, but he has a friend with a private airstrip. We're landing there.”

“Private airstrip?” she repeated, echoing his own trepidation. “No, that's not going to work. We need transportation. How are we going to get to the facility without someone to take us?”

Alejandro was listening and interjected, “No worries, senorita. We have it all worked out. My friend will meet us and he will take you to your destination.”

Hope settled against her seat, but retained an air of worry. She sent him a look that asked,
Are we in trouble?
and he couldn't rightly allay her fears when he shared them.

But he couldn't do anything about the situation from where he sat. They'd just have to ride it out and remain on their toes.

Maybe he was overreacting.

Maybe Alejandro was truly a good guy, and when this was all over, they'd laugh and laugh about their suspicions.

But maybe the joke was on them and they were being delivered to the very people they were trying to avoid.

His gut told him they were screwed.

9

H
OPE
WANTED
TO
believe J.T., but she sensed he was lying for her benefit. The deal had been transport to São Paulo, not some unidentified airstrip in the middle of the Amazon rain forest.

This felt as messed up as the police report that said Tanya had been killed in a random robbery gone wrong.

Her mouth dried of spit and she wanted to cry. So much for being a strong, independent woman.

J.T. reached over and squeezed her hand, and she gratefully squeezed back, needing that human touch.

If J.T. had a plan, he certainly couldn't share, given that Alejandro could hear their every word. Every muscle was tensed and her stomach threatened to rebel.

It'd been only a week, but she hardly remembered her old life of being blissfully unaware of the intrigue and danger that was just around the corner.

Had it been only three weeks ago that she and Tanya had shared a frozen pizza in the lab cafeteria, too excited about their breakthrough to spend more than fifteen minutes wolfing down some carbs so they could power through to the next step?

Her life had consisted of work and science for so long she couldn't remember much else.

And she'd loved it.

A social life had been secondary to the important work they'd been doing.

Tanya had shared her enthusiasm, her thirst for discovery. Neither had questioned whether they should've kept going.

And now Tanya was dead.

Her family grieving.

And Hope was flying in a bucket of bolts to some uncharted airfield in the middle of South America with no idea whether or not they were heading into a neatly laid trap or finally heading into a safe zone.

Well, if the sick tremble in her stomach was any indication, they were not arrowing toward safety.

She pulled off her headset, needing space from everything.

Even J.T.

He seemed to understand and didn't press her. Under normal circumstances, a man like J.T. would've been fun to get to know, but then, under normal circumstances, she and J.T. never would've circulated in the same circles, so they never would've met.

Memories of their intimate times flashed in her mind and her cheeks warmed considerably even as she savored them for the tiny reprieve the remembered pleasure provided.

Good Lord, that man could make a woman forget her own name.

A quick covert glance at J.T. confirmed that he was ridiculously handsome. Having sex with him had only intensified the sexy quotient by half. She wasn't the kind of woman to lose her head over a guy.

But then, J.T. wasn't like most guys, either.

She shouldn't have been ruminating about sexy times with her hot pilot when they were potentially flying to their doom, but maybe that was the best time to think of better things.

If they were about to die, she was happy she'd slept with J.T.

In fact, if they hadn't had sex and she was suddenly staring down the business end of a gun, she would've been really pissed that she hadn't taken advantage of her opportunity before dying.

Sheesh, Hope, way to stay positive.

But she was too frazzled to cling to false hope. Her sixth sense was shrieking right now and it was that gut instinct that'd kept her alive when she'd managed to walk into J.T.'s life, so it didn't do her any favors to ignore that little voice now.

And something told her that J.T. was listening to the same warning bells.

The question was...what the hell were they going to do about it?

* * *

A
LEJANDRO
LANDED
ON
the dirt airfield with minimal fuss, never losing his happy smile even as they climbed out of the small plane to find a black car waiting. When four muscled thugs erupted from the vehicle, J.T. wasn't surprised, though he'd been hoping that his hunch was wrong.

Hope turned to Alejandro with a stiff upper lip, demanding to know what was going on, though her voice bordered on shrill in her panic.

“I paid you for safe transport. What is the meaning of this?”

“And I have put you safely on South American soil. I have fulfilled my end of the bargain, senorita. As you can imagine, times are hard and my family has needs. I cannot afford to give up opportunity.” Alejandro smiled as if his conscience was clear and then mock-saluted the thugs, saying, “I have done as requested.”

One of the thugs pulled a bundle of cash and tossed it at Alejandro, and he caught it handily with a bigger grin. “Adios!” he called out as he returned to his plane, leaving them to their fates.

One of the thugs, squeezed into an ill-fitting suit, removed his sunglasses and tucked them into an interior pocket. “Someone is very interested in meeting you, Miss Larsen.”

J.T. caught the flash of a revolver butt, and he knew their chances of getting away without taking a bullet to the back were slim to none. Not to mention they were deep in the Amazon jungle, where there were hundreds of ways to die a grisly and painful death that might make a bullet seem like a mercy.

“And who might that be?” J.T. asked, stalling for time while he tried to think of a plan.

But they weren't in a talking mood.

A curt nod from the one in charge, and another thug grabbed Hope and the other two mobbed J.T., landing a few good punches to his gut and jaw before he could defend himself. A momentary blackout gave them enough time to tie his feet and hands and toss him into the trunk.

He heard Hope scream as they forced her into the backseat, but a quick slap cut the sound short. Rage cleared away the cobwebs of his muzzy head and he closed his eyes, calming himself before he did something stupid.

He needed to be smart. They were transporting them someplace, likely to the person who'd been shooting at them back in California and had been searching for them ever since.

Logic said they wouldn't hurt Hope, because they needed her—or more specifically, they needed what was in her damn pack. But that didn't leave any protection promise for himself. Chances were they were going to toss him out as a loose end as soon as they reached their destination, which meant he had to find a way out of this trunk before then.

He caught muffled laughter between the thugs, but nothing from Hope. Perhaps the force of the slap had knocked her out. J.T. wanted to kill whoever had touched Hope, but he willed his rage to cool so he could think rationally.

J.T. wiggled his fingers and found enough slack to work his wrists until he managed to free one hand, then the other. But because there wasn't much room in the trunk, getting his feet free was more difficult.

Sweat poured down his face as he concentrated on the task and not on the confines of the tight space.

Back in the Air Force he'd taken small-space training, learning how to manipulate his body and regulate his breathing to avoid panic. He'd never had to use the training during his military career, but it was coming in handy right now.

“Thank you, Sergeant Thack, you cranky bastard,” he muttered as he finally freed his feet. Thack had put J.T. in the training as a punishment for messing around with his oldest daughter. Those six weeks had been a bitch—the worst time of his life.

Until this moment, of course.

J.T. fished his phone from his pocket, which thankfully the thugs hadn't bothered to check, and quickly called Teagan. The service was sketchy and the connection weak, but the call finally went through.

“Teagan,” J.T. whispered when his brother answered. “Trouble.”

Not messing around, Teagan went on alert. “What's wrong? What's that noise?”

“That would be the sound of the road from the inside of a trunk, in case you've ever wondered what that's like. It sucks. Don't try it.”

“You're in a trunk?”

“Yeah, with the presumption that this is far safer than what's going to happen once we reach our destination. Our pilot sold us out.”

“Son of a bitch,” Teagan swore. “That miserable cuss. I'm going to feed him his balls.”

“Never mind that. Help me think of a way out of this mess.”

“Okay, okay, let me think... Is it a newer car?”

“From what I remember...yeah.”

“Okay, the tire iron will be in a side compartment that you should be able to open. That's your best chance at a weapon. When they open that trunk door, you catch them by surprise and start swinging. They won't expect it and it might give you a few minutes to run.”

“That's not much of a plan for Hope.”

“You can't help your client if you're dead.”

Couldn't argue with that.

“I'll track your position through the phone's GPS and call in a few favors.”

“The last favor you called in landed me in a trunk,” he reminded Teagan ruefully. “I'm not sure I trust your favors.”

“You got better options?”

“Nope.”

“Then shut up and let me do what I can.”

“Hurry, man—it's not in my destiny to die in the Amazon jungle. I have it on good authority I'm supposed to die in the arms of a buxom blonde with a smile on my face.”

“Just do your best to lose yourself in that jungle. I will find you.”

“Yes, sir,” J.T. said, trying to keep it light for his brother's sake. The situation was shit. The chances of survival were slim. And they both knew it.

Jokes were just J.T.'s way of dealing with the bad odds and Teagan knew it.

J.T. forced a smile as he said, “Hey, I have an idea... Let's sell Blue Yonder and buy a boat. We can charge hot tourists in bikinis to charter them around the Caribbean or something.”

Teagan replied with a hint of unexpected humor, “Neither one of us knows anything about boats. We're flyboys, remember?”

J.T. grinned in spite of the situation. “Yeah, I remember. So get me a damn plane. I've had enough of this place to last a lifetime.”

“I'm on it, brother. Stay alive.”

The line went dead and J.T. closed his eyes briefly, wondering if that was the last time he would speak to Teagan. This was one scrape that Teagan might not be able to patch up.

And he felt like crap that the burden fell to his brother.

Again.

He'd like to live long enough to save his brother's ass for a change one of these days.

Put that on the agenda for later.

For now...time to save your own ass.