Sanso might have taken his Jaguar XKR convertible up to the Desert Hope House if the car were here in the States with him rather than in Brasília. But short of time to find a car of similar quality to rent, he secured a Mazda Miata, which would do a sufficient job of being quick and quiet if it so happened that was what he needed.
A black Ford pickup was the only other vehicle he encountered on the way up the hill, and that one was headed down, away from anything that concerned him.
Callista had not laughed as expected when he showed her the car and asked if she thought it would work as a chick magnet at the Hope House. Poor Callista. She did know him better than most of his employees and probably knew by now that he was only putting her through the paces. She wanted him back in Mexico. Needed him in Mexico to preserve her station in his hierarchy before Janeal Mikkado commandeered it. Sanso respected Callista’s sharp mind, which surely had detected all these minute details. But it could not compel him to change course. Not in this case.
Instead Callista only mentioned, wryly, how fitting it was that Sanso would follow Robert into a houseful of solitary women. Maybe the DEA agent had a lover here. Or a snitch. Or a sinfully bad habit.
Well now—could the mystery person be the one Janeal had referred to as somehow “responsible for her security”? Perhaps she could arrange for Sanso to meet this person during his visit.
Sanso was having more fun than he’d enjoyed in years. He rolled the possibilities around in his mind.
A lover for Robert. Mm. That would be optimal. Someone to kick up a little more dust in Janeal’s anxious, disguised, jealous face so Sanso could wash it off. He would caress it and kiss it away and reveal her true self, the self that was interested in dodging Robert’s authority and preserving her own power and money and influence.
Interested in him, to put it bluntly. If her passion matched even half of his, they would live happily ever after.
Oh yes. Robert was nothing more than a pesky fly that made a lot of noise. But Janeal! In his fifty-three years he had never met such a perfect match for his own devious heart. Janeal would be his trophy. His unprecedented conquest. If he maneuvered as he was wont to do, she would never know there had been a battle for her soul.