words out. She swallowed and waited for his next words.
He gave her a look that said he knew there was a healthy sense of guilt writhing around on the floor of her soul. Well, dammit, when he ran out of options the way she had, maybe he’d understand.
“Then do a job for us. For a paycheck, of course.”
Victoria blinked. “Ian pays me more than the Army ever did. No, thanks.”
She’d spent the past two years saving everything she had for the day when she could get Emily out of Qu’rim and back home to New Orleans. Even if she needed money, which she didn’t, working for the Army didn’t appeal. They’d thrown her out without a second thought, and all because Emily had the poor sense to fall for a man like Zaran bin Yusuf.
A terrorist bent on destroying the United States, you mean.
Mendez’s mouth curled in a smile. “Then do it for yourself.”
Victoria stared at him for a long moment. And then she scoffed. “Unless you plan to help me extract my sister from bin Yusuf and clear my name— both our names—you don’t have a damn thing I want.”
Mendez straightened, and she bent her neck back to look up at him. Her heart thumped against her chest wall at the serious expression on his face. He couldn’t possibly… no way…
“Maybe that’s exactly what I’m offering. Does that change your answer?”
* * *
Nick watched Victoria’s reaction. Mendez was still standing there, still looking intently at her, and her head was tilted back to gaze up at him. There was something unbearably elegant about her profile. And lonely, he thought. There was definitely something lonely about her.
He’d read the brief on her that Mendez had gotten from Intel. She’d been working for Black for two years now. Before that, she’d held down odd jobs after being booted from the Army. She’d never formed any relationships with anyone, though the report said nothing about casual hookups. On the subject of her and Ian Black, it was silent.
“I… What do you want me to do?”
That was Mendez’s cue. He slipped backward onto the desk, hands on his knees, and focused the full power of his attention on Victoria.
“I want to know who Ian Black is. Who he works for. Who pays him to do these jobs, and where he gets his information.”
Victoria stiffened. “I don’t know any of that. I already told you.”
“But you could find out.”
She lifted her chin defiantly. “What makes you think that? I’ve worked for him for two years and know nothing more than he lets me know.”
“Are you sleeping with him?”
Nick felt as if someone had jabbed him with a sharp knife. He didn’t like the burning sensation creeping through his gut at the thought of Victoria and Ian Black. The man was a disavowed spy, working for the highest bidder and selling his loyalty like a convenience-store clerk sold cigarettes. He was no good, and if Victoria was working for him—and sleeping with him—then she was probably no good either.
But she had something they wanted, and Mendez was willing to barter to get it.
Victoria got to her feet, the picture of offended innocence. And fury. Holy hell, she was pissed. Crimson slashed her cheekbones as she tossed her hair. Another feeling knifed into Nick at that moment. A feeling that had a lot more to do with the way her breasts thrust forward and her waist dipped neatly in. And then there was the flare of that skirt. Like something a girl back home would wear to church.
Jesus.
“You wouldn’t be asking me that if I were a man,” she said. “And frankly, it’s none of your fucking business.”
Mendez nodded, once and firmly. “If you work for me, it is my business. And yeah, I would ask a man. You’d be surprised how many of these guys can’t keep it in their pants.” He shook his head as if pained, and Nick nearly laughed.
“Half my damn team’s shacked up with someone they met on the job, so don’t bet any money on me not asking every motherfucker that comes
He gave her a look that said he knew there was a healthy sense of guilt writhing around on the floor of her soul. Well, dammit, when he ran out of options the way she had, maybe he’d understand.
“Then do a job for us. For a paycheck, of course.”
Victoria blinked. “Ian pays me more than the Army ever did. No, thanks.”
She’d spent the past two years saving everything she had for the day when she could get Emily out of Qu’rim and back home to New Orleans. Even if she needed money, which she didn’t, working for the Army didn’t appeal. They’d thrown her out without a second thought, and all because Emily had the poor sense to fall for a man like Zaran bin Yusuf.
A terrorist bent on destroying the United States, you mean.
Mendez’s mouth curled in a smile. “Then do it for yourself.”
Victoria stared at him for a long moment. And then she scoffed. “Unless you plan to help me extract my sister from bin Yusuf and clear my name— both our names—you don’t have a damn thing I want.”
Mendez straightened, and she bent her neck back to look up at him. Her heart thumped against her chest wall at the serious expression on his face. He couldn’t possibly… no way…
“Maybe that’s exactly what I’m offering. Does that change your answer?”
* * *
Nick watched Victoria’s reaction. Mendez was still standing there, still looking intently at her, and her head was tilted back to gaze up at him. There was something unbearably elegant about her profile. And lonely, he thought. There was definitely something lonely about her.
He’d read the brief on her that Mendez had gotten from Intel. She’d been working for Black for two years now. Before that, she’d held down odd jobs after being booted from the Army. She’d never formed any relationships with anyone, though the report said nothing about casual hookups. On the subject of her and Ian Black, it was silent.
“I… What do you want me to do?”
That was Mendez’s cue. He slipped backward onto the desk, hands on his knees, and focused the full power of his attention on Victoria.
“I want to know who Ian Black is. Who he works for. Who pays him to do these jobs, and where he gets his information.”
Victoria stiffened. “I don’t know any of that. I already told you.”
“But you could find out.”
She lifted her chin defiantly. “What makes you think that? I’ve worked for him for two years and know nothing more than he lets me know.”
“Are you sleeping with him?”
Nick felt as if someone had jabbed him with a sharp knife. He didn’t like the burning sensation creeping through his gut at the thought of Victoria and Ian Black. The man was a disavowed spy, working for the highest bidder and selling his loyalty like a convenience-store clerk sold cigarettes. He was no good, and if Victoria was working for him—and sleeping with him—then she was probably no good either.
But she had something they wanted, and Mendez was willing to barter to get it.
Victoria got to her feet, the picture of offended innocence. And fury. Holy hell, she was pissed. Crimson slashed her cheekbones as she tossed her hair. Another feeling knifed into Nick at that moment. A feeling that had a lot more to do with the way her breasts thrust forward and her waist dipped neatly in. And then there was the flare of that skirt. Like something a girl back home would wear to church.
Jesus.
“You wouldn’t be asking me that if I were a man,” she said. “And frankly, it’s none of your fucking business.”
Mendez nodded, once and firmly. “If you work for me, it is my business. And yeah, I would ask a man. You’d be surprised how many of these guys can’t keep it in their pants.” He shook his head as if pained, and Nick nearly laughed.
“Half my damn team’s shacked up with someone they met on the job, so don’t bet any money on me not asking every motherfucker that comes
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