Page 51 of Bad Rio

Harrison chewed the end of a fine, unlit Cuban cigar and studied the gardens.

In no way could Harrison allow the observant former Special Forces expert to know that he was intimately involved in Daniel De Monte’s senate campaign.

Rio could only know him as his contact with Black Eagle, the deeply hidden government entity that employed them both. Harrison had set up a sweet operation in Daniel De Monte’s warehouse. And he’d easily recruited a willing Tim to facilitate it. The products—weapons and fentanyl—they were shipping were bringing in alotof money, and no one knew he was the brains behind the outfit. All the while he’d carefully kept any hint of suspicion off himself. It had been gratifying, secretly pulling the strings all this time.

Harrison studied his cigar. Because Rio had thrown a monkey wrench into the mix, he would have to act. His superiors at Black Eagle didn’t know what he was doing and they wouldn’t have stood for it. Tough shit. The allegiance he felt to them was nonexistent.

In his younger years he’d served the government as a proud Green Beret. While the life was exciting, the pay was terrible. Harrison had long ago decided it was past time to enjoy a little of the world’s wealth and power. After all, he knew how to accomplish difficult tasks. He also knew how to prevent others from asking too many questions.

The main thing was results, and Harrisonalwaysgot them.

Rio Lang shouldn’t be here. He was supposed to deliver Rebecca De Monte to the new meeting place and be on his way. Instead, he’d smuggled her back across the border and brought her straight to her father.

Why he’d done that had become abundantly clear after observing the two together. Even in that short amount of time, Harrison spotted Rio’s obvious sexual interest in the alluring De Monte woman. Slim, with long gleaming hair, huge eyes, and an impressive rack, Rebecca De Monte was a hot young thing, and he could understand it. The way they’d entered the house, holding hands, whispering together, their physical connection was obvious.

This complicated matters.

Rebecca De Monte was never supposed to make it out of Mexico alive.

Chapter Twenty-One

Trouble, much biggerthan he’d initially thought, was brewing here. Rio felt the foreboding conclusion seep into his brain. And one thing was clear: Becca was still in danger, and while he didn’t know the exact reason beyond the illicit gun running, he was certain that her father would not, or could not, adequately protect her.

After Becca had shown him her office the night before, explained the business in further detail and her role in it, his estimation of her grew.

Though she stood to one day inherit a fortune from her father, she hadn’t lived the life of a dilettante, of a lazy rich person. She’d apparently used her business degree and loyalty to passionately throw herself into work. She’d become an integral and important part of that company. Rio was certain she didn’t need to labor away forty hours or more a week, but she did.

He admired her work ethic. Becca’s life had meaning.

In direct contrast, he was footloose, with little of the gratifying sense of purpose she had. A strange jealousy rose in him and instantly he pushed it down. In a lot of ways she was a better person than he was. That was a no-brainer.

He already knew her wonderful body. Or, at least, he was beginning to learn its contours. That delicious expedition might never end. Now, she was beginning to fascinate him, to impress him with her diligent motivation to keep their family business successful. He found his appreciation for her devotion rising. She definitely wasn’t the spoiled heiress he’d first assumed.

Briefly, Rio closed his eyes. After all he’d seen and done, with various women in far-flung countries around the world, he didn’t mind Becca’s bent toward exhibitionism.

Actually, he liked it. A staid, prudish female could never interest him.

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