Drake Malone adjusted the lens. He’d thought the Agency was the answer to his restlessness. Surprisingly, he hadn’t had to blackmail Larry into lifting the enforced leave. In fact, it had been a little too easy.
Selena was still gone. The detectives he’d hired came up with dead ends as far as Selena’s family and friends went. Selena wasn’t the most trusting women. She had kept her past from many of the townspeople.
Eight weeks and two days. That was how long it had been since she’d abandoned him — no note, no word. Just gone.
Drake stood from the rooftop of a neighboring building. He focused the binoculars on the crowd entering and leaving the restaurant across the street. His partner, Barry Prawn, was beside him and he handed over the binoculars so he could take a look. Andrew Donovan’s group had been seated. There was no sign of Andrew’s father, Don. But that didn’t mean Don was giving up any control.
“Word has it he wants more grandchildren so bad he’s ready to use modern technology if his own kids don’t move a little faster. It’s been said he has two daughters somewhere and wants to bring them into the empire.”
“He’s not thinking straight,” Barry said.
Drake shook his head. “Don has this philosophy of immortality. He believes family bloodlines need to stay pure and unbroken.”
He saw Barry’s preoccupation wasn’t in the direction of the stakeout; the binoculars were trained on a female figure seated at the restaurant but not at Donovan’s table.
“The girl can wait, Barry. Maybe you can get her name and number after we’re finished.”
“You sure you don’t wanna see what she looks like?” Barry smirked.
Drake didn’t like that smile. “Dammit,” he said, his voice low. When Barry wouldn’t let up, he scanned the direction of Barry’s binoculars.
Drake let out a low whistle and smiled his appreciation. Taking a closer look, his lips flattened into a hard line, jaw clenched. He took several pictures. “We’ve got work to do,” he snapped.
Andrew Donovan, the youngest of Don’s kids, was seated with several bodyguards at tables outside a quaint Italian restaurant. Andrew was known for dealing first, then eating, unlike his old man who ate first, then accepted or declined any offers. Old man Donovan liked seeing them squirm, waiting for the outcome.
A man in his sixties with salt-and pepper-hair and a body boasting more of a keg than a six pack under a purple silk shirt came onto the scene. He sauntered over to the hostess. In his right ear was one chunk of diamond.
Drake laughed. “I’d recognize that earring anywhere. I never thought Martha would allow it out of her sight. She’s going to kill him.”
Barry’s attention was once again distracted by the girl in the courtyard across the cobbled drive. “She’s a hot one — ”
“Shut up.”
Barry gave him a startled look. “I’m just commenting — ”
Drake looked at his friend again to see if he was putting one on him, and decided he wasn’t. “Take another look at her.”
Barry did.
• • •
Selena had lucked out, tipping a young waiter to seat her in plain sight of Andrew Donovan and his party. She sat at the table and drummed her fingers on her book. It was hard to believe she and Andrew came from the same genes. As soon as Andrew concluded his business, she would approach him — and Eric, her young nephew, whom he had with him.
A man encased in deep plum shirt crossed the street. She smiled at the white pants. When the man turned to greet Andrew, she nearly choked, grabbing the spray of coffee in time before it connected with another customer. She couldn’t believe Larry had it in him. Hadn’t he promised Martha he wouldn’t enter the game ever again?
Larry shook Andrew Donovan’s hand. Andrew snuffed the cigar with gentle strokes and gestured to the chair in front of him. Larry sat down. A young waiter started towards the table. One of the bodyguards glared at him. The restaurant’s owner saw the mistake at the same time and steered the young waiter from Andrew’s view.
Andrew frowned.
Selena had seen Larry in action before, and she saw now the way his eyes took everything in, yet gave the impression he was focusing on Andrew. She couldn’t hear what Larry was saying, but Andrew seemed to like it.
Andrew folded his hands together in prayer fashion, resting his elbows on the table, index fingers on his lips. After a few moments, he waved to one of his men, who in turn signaled to the owner. Dishes of pasta, garlic bread, and wine made it to various checker-clothed tables for Andrew and his men.
Selena thanked God she had missed her sister’s wedding. If she hadn’t, Andrew would have recognized her and would never have allowed her this close to Eric.
There had only been a street and time listed in White’s envelope. This place. Which she’d spent weeks checking out, studying who accompanied Andrew and how the meetings went.
She scanned the area for the rest of Larry’s team — she knew Larry wasn’t alone. This had to be pretty big if he’d been willing to come out from behind the desk. How in the hell was she supposed to do this if Larry had the place staked out?
It was now or never, she decided.
Selena pushed her chair back. The iron wrought chair scraped against brick. She placed her napkin on the table. She gritted her teeth mentally and plastered an airhead smile for the men as she crossed the street.
Damn Larry.
Where would he put his men? The cobbled courtyard overflowing with soft music and tropical plants would be the best seat in the house. Two other cafés sat at the dead-end street and one on the other corner. It was a silent agreement no one reported what took place within their establishments.
Several suited men at the outside bar laughed with a waiter whose white apron was wrapped around his waist and who balanced a tray with one hand. The waiter patted one of them on the back.
The men were regulars.
Book and purse in hand, she headed towards the courtyard where Andrew sat. Where the hell were Larry’s men?
A baby squealed. She turned without even thinking and stared in Andrew’s direction, spotting her nephew, Eric. Even from here, she could see his huge dimpled smile resembled Theresa’s. Had he inherited her birthmark?
A broad-shouldered man, bulging with muscles and a gun under his coat, placed the six-month-old Eric in his stroller. The man turned to chat with a girl selling flowers from a basket on her arm.
Selena would recognize that pitted face anywhere even if the Agency’s reports hadn’t described him. They called him Poxy due to the scars of chicken pox from his childhood. Though no one said it to his face.
It would be so easy to take Eric when he wasn’t looking. Sometimes having a single man take care of a baby was a bad idea; his other needs became more important when a pretty girl was around. She wished it would be that simple to snatch and run, but with a family like the Donovans, there was a lot of gun-power to follow.
Selena casually turned toward the waiter who had appeared from a darkened alcove.
“May I help you?” he offered.
She smiled and looked over the top of her sunglasses. “Yes. Thank you. A table for one outside if they’re not reserved.”
“For a pretty young lady like you … anything is possible.” His eyes strayed to her tanned shoulders as if he wanted to touch. Instead he led her to a sunny spot three tables away from where Poxy sat with Eric, which was far enough from Larry’s meeting with her brother for her to feel comfortable sitting there.
The waiter pulled out a chair. She accepted. Larry seemed to notice how close the waiter had placed her and frowned. Andrew watched her and said something to Larry. Larry shook his head and Andrew returned to business at hand.
The waiter offered to bring her something to drink.
“I would love an iced tea with a lime on the side.” She laid her book on the table, a hollow prop with her gun tucked inside. Selena loved being outdoors and if this had been an ordinary day, she would’ve been enjoying the surroundings and atmosphere. Instead she felt tense and wary.
Two businessmen across the cobbled street kept staring at her. She raised her brow at the one scowling and ignored him. She drummed her fingers on the book. Come on, Larry where are your men? She had already discounted the businessmen. A few ladies sat next to the wall of tropical plants, sipping margaritas.
Larry stood up.
Andrew gestured for him to remain.
Larry wiped his mouth, folded his napkin slowly as he shook his head and laid it on the table.
She looked back at the two businessmen sitting a little too close to be “only friends.” Guys usually wanted a little more space to call their own. She ran her eyes up the backside of the older one, who was sporting a hearing aid. His partner seemed a little stiff, as if they’d recently had a spat. The older one grinned as he patted his companion’s shoulder.
Selena laughed.
A shot rang out, shattering a carafe at the table next to her. Selena threw herself down to the ground, scanning her environment. Where had the shot come from? Andrew’s bodyguards were on their feet, moving and shouting. Had one of Andrew’s many enemies taken a potshot at him?
She shifted, seeing the two businessmen from across the street charging toward the chaos. Toward the chaos — that meant they were Larry’s men. She dismissed them, and saw that Eric’s stroller was exposed. She leaped toward it but one of Larry’s men took her down, his body becoming a hard shield.
“Stay down,” he warned in her ear.
She tried to push him off, but he refused to move. And that was when she knew — Selena’s body hummed with need. His head moved downward, capturing her lips. She tasted desire, yearning, and unanswered questions.
The kiss was too familiar, haunting her body in a way she had wanted to forget because no one could take the place of her husband. The way he caressed her cheek with his thumb after kissing her possessively.
Apparently, Larry had more to answer for than she thought.
“Hey, Drake, catch up with her later,” a young man’s voice interrupted them.
“We will finish this later,” Drake promised, following his partner.
There was no time for regrets or hunger. Eric had been placed in danger and she hadn’t prevented it. She looked over at the restaurant where her nephew had sat. She could have grabbed Eric and run, but there were too many guns. Too many bullets. And too many of Andrew’s henchmen to run from. By now, Andrew and his men had vanished, leaving overturned tables and chairs.
A crunch under her foot made her stop in her tracks. She crouched down and gingerly picked up the cracked rattle. Another few feet away lay Eric’s dinosaur. She picked it up and caressed the red-stained belly. She surveyed the food-splattered courtyard. Sighing, she shook the sauce from the dinosaur.
It didn’t help not knowing if Eric was alive or dead.
She had failed her main objective.
To protect Eric.
In the end, today would only serve to deepen Andrew’s protection over his son. She had lost an opportunity to grab him. There was no way she’d get another chance like this.
God help the man who tried to fulfill the contract against her nephew’s life.
And God help the man who put him on that list to begin with.
She dug a plastic bag out of the car and placed Eric’s dinosaur in it.
Whoever thought he could end Eric’s life had just screwed with his own life expectancy.