Jacked Up (Bowen Boys #4) (20 page)

He was dying to rip Exxum’s hand off for touching her, but he tamped his fury down. He knew that bastard very well and such move would only spike his interest in her.

The second David let her elbow go to take the flutes of champagne the waiter was offering, Jack reached for Elle and brought her flush to him. She went eagerly, intertwined her fingers with his.

Jack smiled and gave her a kiss under the hollow of her ear. “Follow my cues,” he whispered discreetly.

“Can’t keep your hands off her, I see,” David commented with a laugh. “Not that I fault you. You, my dear, are astonishingly beautiful. What was your name?”

Shit. Before Jack could come up with an answer, Elle said with a smile, “Pet. He had me chipped when I wasn’t looking.”

David threw his head back and laughed while another waiter approached them with snacks.

“Do try,” David encouraged Elle. “I myself took care of ordering the catering from Luxury Delights. Best vegan products available. One hundred percent organic. Eating animals is so cruel and unnecessary.”

Right. The asshole couldn’t stomach eating an animal but didn’t give a rat’s ass about all the humans his businesses ruined.

Elle smiled and took a morsel.

David did too. “I don’t believe the jails of a nation tell how civilized a country is. It’s the way its people treat animals that shows their level of evolution. Having to organize fund-raisers to get animals off the streets already proves we are at the bottom of the barrel.”

“Alex, my love,” Marissa, one of Exxum’s harem, said, reaching for him.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Jack greeted, leaning to kiss the woman’s face. “As beautiful as ever.”

He could feel Elle’s stiffness and displeasure. She tried to pull her hand away from him, but he held onto it, keeping their fingers firmly intertwined.

“You need to save me a dance,” Marissa said, caressing the lapel of his tux. “Alex is such a good dancer.”

“Which reminds me,” Exxum interrupted, turning to Elle, “would you do me the immense honor of dancing with me? I know Alex; once he takes someone to the dance floor, he doesn’t let go.”

Used as he was not to be denied, David was already reaching for Elle when Jack stepped in.

Fuck it. He was getting her out of there.

“
My
pet. She dances with me,” he rumbled, pulling her by her hand.

He knew this was a bad move. This would spike the asshole’s interest, but he couldn’t do anything differently.

Once on the dance floor, he enveloped Elle in his arms, breathing her scent in, trying to calm down. She hugged him and placed her head on the crook of his neck.

“Anything to tell me,
Alex
?”

“You should have gone to powder your nose.”

She snorted softly. “Aunt Maggie was about to reach us. There was no time to argue. We didn’t have many options. What the hell is going on?”

As much as it pissed him off to admit it, she was right. Another minute and any number of people would have blown his cover to hell and back. David and his people didn’t take kindly to undercover operatives. Once his true identity was unveiled, the people closest to him would suffer the consequences. He couldn’t risk that. The whole Bowen clan, kiddies included, were there; no fucking way was he having their safety threatened. It was already bad enough that Elle was mixed up in this, with all these unscrupulous bastards pretending to be upstanding gentlemen.

“Who is David Exxum?” she insisted. “And why the hell do you speak Spanish like a native?”

Who was David Exxum? Nobody, just one of the biggest scumbags on the East Coast. Playboy and philanthropist in the public eye. Something much more sinister in private. Too bad the motherfucker was bulletproof, protected by the kind of armor that only money and fame provided.

“I want you out of here. Stat. Excuse yourself. Head for the bathroom and sneak out. Go find James.”

She pressed her lips into a tight line, looking aggrieved, probably because he was deflecting her questions, but she didn’t comment on that. Good, because he wasn’t going to get into an argument with her. “Isn’t it going to seem weird if I disappear? I can handle this,” she assured him, snuggling against him, caressing his hair, as if they were dancing and murmuring inconsequential things into each other’s ears. Just two lovers cuddling. “I might be a pain in the butt and too loud and vocal for your taste, but I know when to keep my mouth shut. You don’t have to worry about me screwing up. We dance. Mingle with your…friends and in half an hour I say I’m not feeling well and you take me home.”

A lot of shit could go down in half an hour. The hairs at the back of his neck were already prickling as it was, his instincts all yelling at him.

Alex Ayala, his undercover name, was never in Boston. He favored the sun and the south, where he conducted his business as a facilitator. A broker of sorts. Connecting buyers with sellers, all big movers and shakers. Overseeing the deals and offering integral turnkey services. Of all his aliases during the years, this one had been the most effective, enabling him to shut down several big operations without blowing his cover. Jack wasn’t about to start fucking up now.

“I’ll entertain David and you excuse yourself,” he ordered as the song ended. Exxum had been watching them dance, so there was no way to sneak past him. Steeling himself, he walked toward David, keeping Elle’s hand tight in his grip.

“Alex, have I introduced you yet to one of our most generous benefactors?”

Jack turned to the newcomer and froze.

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Joaquín Maldonado, this is Alex Ayala and his lovely date,” Exxum said.

Jack nodded in greeting and shook Maldonado’s hand.

“Alex Ayala, finally. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Then Maldonado addressed Elle, taking her hand and kissing it. “A pleasure. You look vaguely familiar. Have we met before?”

Chapter Thirteen

Time stood still. Jack could hardly hear a damn word, the way his ears were roaring. He, who had taken part in countless undercover operations, always cool as a cucumber, was about to lose his fucking shit. His gut feeling was to grab Elle and run the hell out of there. Thank God Elle was more rational.

She smiled, not flinching under Maldonado’s scrutiny or his touch while his lips brushed her hand. “I have one of those faces.”

“Which kind is that?”

“A common one,” she answered, not missing a beat.

The bastard’s expression lit with a grin. “Oh, I wouldn’t call your face or any part of you common.”

“Thanks. It’s the dim light here,” she confided. Jack could tell from the pulse in her wrist that her heart rate was sky-high, but she was joking and pretending to be relaxed. “Makes a woman more mysterious. Smoky. Then you see her in daylight and
kaboom
, you have a heart attack.”

Maldonado broke into laughter.

“I’m impressed, Alex. Finally a woman with looks and brains. Where are you seated? I’m sure we can rearrange the setting to include you,” Exxum said, throwing a glance to one of his associates, who flagged someone of the staff. “Joaquín is at the same table.”

* * * *

Nico parked the car and, taking in a deep breath of cold air, walked toward the hotel where Maldonado was attending a fund-raiser for abandoned dogs. What he was doing there, Nico had no clue, because his employer couldn’t give two fucks about animals, abandoned or otherwise, much less travel to the other end of the country to spend a whopping ten grand on a vegan diner.

Either way he was glad for the reprieve, short as it might be. Boston was a welcome change of scenery, seeing as how he spent most of his time in the Caribbean or in the jungle overseeing the labs.

Florida was bad enough; Hawaii on top of that had been overkill. Next vacation he had, he was taking his Russian ass to Murmansk.

It was a stroke of luck that Maldonado was in Boston, because as fate would have it, the person they were searching for was from there. After Donald, all he had to do was go online to several professional directories and people-finder apps and
bada bing, bada boom
, in two seconds flat he’d found an Elle Cooper in the BU student directory who resembled Marlene. An Elle Cooper who had been enrolled in UF for a year a while back, and who had worked for the same airline as Marlene. Once sure he had the right girl, it had been a matter of going to Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter. Man, people had no clue what they were doing when they uploaded all of their lives. How exposed they were. How easily they could become prey. He’d get accounts on those social media networking programs as soon as fucking never.

By the time the plane had landed at Logan, he had all the info he needed and more. Where she lived, worked. What she liked and didn’t. Her hobbies. Who she socialized with. What she’d had for breakfast, for Christ’s sake.

He hadn’t needed to do any recon in person. Go through the phone directory, one Elle Cooper at a time and pay each of them a visit, like in the olden days. Nope. The Internet sped everything up, criminal enterprises included.

He entered the hotel, a copy of her driving license in his pocket. Now all he had to do was find Maldonado.

* * * *

Jesus Christ. As if being forced to mingle with Maldonado and Exxum at a fund-raiser wasn’t bad enough, now they were being maneuvered into sharing table with them.

Fuck, no. No way in hell. Before he could make a mess out of things, Elle intervened.

“It would be lovely to dine at your table, but I’m not feeling too well,” she hastened to explain. “Alex is taking me home.”

“I have the top floor reserved,” Exxum insisted. “You could go lie down for a while and then join us here.”

“I don’t think so,” Jack answered curtly. “Gentlemen.”

Without giving them a chance to reply, Jack directed her toward the door with a hand on the small of her back, doing his damnedest to keep his stride even and not break into a run.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

What the hell was he doing? Humoring Elle and letting her continue with her life as if nothing had happened? Tagging along happily, his cock at the ready? Lowering his guard and groping her in the car, in the open? Moron. If he had been more alert, he would have noticed the fund-raiser and they wouldn’t have been blindsided.

As they made their way to the lobby, Jack saw a blond guy amid the crowd, scanning the premises. That was Nico Grabar, Maldonado’s second in command. Almost in front of them. Fuck He hadn’t spotted them yet, but it was a matter of a second or two. Jack spun Elle around and kissed her, turning his back to Nico and hovering over Elle, covering her as much as possible.

Nico looked at them and then took a second glance, frowning. Holding his breath, Jack waited for the man to pass.

Once out of the hotel, he ran with Elle to the truck.

“…you listening to me?” Elle’s angry words finally computed as he turned the engine on.

Based on her expression, she’d been trying to get his attention for a while.

Well, tough shit. He wasn’t listening to her. She messed with his head. Both his heads. And he’d start making decisions with the wrong one. First piece of evidence, this whole clusterfuck.

He was supposed to keep her out of harm’s way, and instead, he’d almost delivered her to Maldonado on a silver platter.

“What exactly happened in there? Who the hell are you?”

He wasn’t going to answer. The less she knew, the better.

“Why didn’t you tell me that Maldonado knew you?” she demanded. “And what’s Maldonado doing in Boston?”

Excellent question. And why he didn’t get a heads-up from Mullen, he didn’t know. But he was going to find out.

His silence was infuriating her. She was seething; he could see it. And the more her questions went unanswered, the worse it got.

“Who. Is. Alex?” she asked, punctuating every word.

He continued ignoring her while he sped onto the highway, the force throwing her against the window. At least his brain hadn’t melted down totally and he still kept a stash of supplies in his truck in case he had to disappear. Good, because he was done playing house. Time to do what he should have done from the very beginning and cut the shit out.

“Where are we going? Talk to me, dammit!” she all but yelled.

He used Bluetooth to call Mullen, who answered in two rings.

“Maldonado is in Boston. We’re going under,” he barked out before the FBI agent could get a word in.

“We lost him. Last we heard he was on a beach in the Caribbean. He must have flown straight from there to Boston.”

“No shit. Now he’s downtown, attending a fund-raiser.”

“Did he see you?”

Jack’s laugh was dry. “See us? We almost had dinner with the asshole.”

“Hell. Did he recognize Elle? Let me make a couple of calls. The FBI will have a safe house for you ready in no time.”

“No. Not risking another leak. I’m taking her off the radar. You do your goddamned job and arrest this guy.”

“We are doing the best we can. It would be much easier if you would let the girl be bait. Wire her up and send her to blackmail him for her silence,” he said, obviously not realizing Elle was listening. “The second we have his confession on tape, he’s toast. You know that’s the fastest avenue.”

“I said no,” Jack barked, watching as Elle processed Mullen’s words.

Outrage sharpened her features. “Jack, what the—”

“I’ll contact you later, when we’re set up,” Jack said, interrupting Elle and hanging up on Mullen.

“You bastard. Why didn’t you tell me about that option?” Her eyes were ablaze, boring holes in him. “Didn’t I have the right to know?”

“Not an option,” he let out in between gritted teeth.

Wiring Elle up and sending her into the wolf’s den wouldn’t end well. In the unlikely event she managed to get a confession out of Maldonado, she would never live to see it put to good use.

“That’s for me to decide, asshole,” she yelled.

“No.”

“Wrong again! I demand you stop right this frigging instant. I want to know where we are going. Then I’ll decide if I go or not.”

Tough shit. He floored the accelerator.

* * * *

“So, why are you here?” Exxum asked, after they stepped out on the patio to smoke, his bodyguard by the door. “You come to pay me for that last couple of shipments of guns? Because I’ve known you for a while now and you don’t give a rat’s ass about abandoned dogs.”