asked.
"I'll know it when I see it. How do you feel about fishing?" He knew she'd hate his cryptic response. The woman liked being in charge. Christian smiled as he ushered her to the door of the suite, under protest.
"I'd sooner go bowling."
The image of Jasmine in rented shoes, hoisting a Brunswick in one hand and a cold brew in the other, almost made him laugh out loud.
"You know, I might pay good money to see you wage war on tenpins. But no, I've gotta see what fifty thousand in green might buy us. Stir things up."
To make sure no one bugged the rooms undetected, the woman had set up surveillance with hidden cameras rigged for motion before unpacking her clothes. Given all the high-tech equipment inside the room, he felt sure they'd know if the suite had been tampered with once they returned. But just in case, he stopped outside the hallway door for one last measure.
"Ow." Jasmine turned around, looking appalled. Rubbing her scalp, she turned to face him. "What the hell are you doing?"
He held a strand of her hair and dangled it in front of her face, fighting a smirk. Some tough assassin.
She grimaced. "With all the surveillance gear I've got set up in the room, what good will that do?"
Curiosity replaced annoyance as she watched him hang the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the doorknob and make use of her personal donation to their added security. He wedged the single strand of hair into the crack of the door, above their heads. A small piece hung barely visible.
"An early warning system ... of sorts."
"I would've expected something a little more high-tech from a guy with your background."
"Nothing wrong with a low-tech advance warning to give us an edge. After all, if it's good enough for MacGyver, it's good enough for me. What I could've done if I had a gum wrapper and a toothpick."
"Really?" She raised an eyebrow.
"No." Christian headed down the corridor.
The woman had no sense of humor.
As they left the main lobby, heading for the street, Christian made a point to catch the eye of the clerk who'd checked them into the hotel earlier. A seed had definitely been planted with the man whose eyes burned Christian's back as he left the hotel.
They grabbed a quick bite at a local street cafe, then killed an hour walking the dark streets of Cuiabá, getting familiar with the city.
At first Christian chose well-lit avenues and crowded thoroughfares. Not hard to find. Even with the late hour, many of the downtown boulevards thrived with action. Along streets lined with palm trees, scooters dodged small sedans and engines revved to a high whine as they blew exhaust into the muggy air. High heels clacked fast on cement sidewalks, accompanied by the low steady rhythm of their male companions, lounge lizards making the rounds bar to bar. Jazz music wafted sultry in the night air, competing with the seductive beat of the samba.
The city had its own tempo. And although traffic fumes and smells hung heavy, an underlying primitive scent refused to be denied. On the edge of civilization, the great rain forest endured, a piece of its heart carved out by man. Christian sensed the wilderness on the outskirts of Cuiabá, and the restless sensation he wanted to forget returned.
"You've grown quiet." Jasmine broke the silence. "I understand the demons that haunt you. In that way, we have much in common. More than you know."
Death was nothing to have in common. Not with her. He had no need to make a connection with Jasmine. He didn't want to like her ... or need to. And he had no faith in the glimpse of humanity she shared with him now, even if there was more to her story.
"There's only one thing we have in common. Let's stay focused on that, shall we?"
If she'd been hurt by his remark, she never let it show. Her face remained a blank slate as she said, "Yes, for Nicky."
The damned heat had finally gotten to him, and his manners were the first to go. At least, that's what he told himself, but he didn't feel the need to
"I'll know it when I see it. How do you feel about fishing?" He knew she'd hate his cryptic response. The woman liked being in charge. Christian smiled as he ushered her to the door of the suite, under protest.
"I'd sooner go bowling."
The image of Jasmine in rented shoes, hoisting a Brunswick in one hand and a cold brew in the other, almost made him laugh out loud.
"You know, I might pay good money to see you wage war on tenpins. But no, I've gotta see what fifty thousand in green might buy us. Stir things up."
To make sure no one bugged the rooms undetected, the woman had set up surveillance with hidden cameras rigged for motion before unpacking her clothes. Given all the high-tech equipment inside the room, he felt sure they'd know if the suite had been tampered with once they returned. But just in case, he stopped outside the hallway door for one last measure.
"Ow." Jasmine turned around, looking appalled. Rubbing her scalp, she turned to face him. "What the hell are you doing?"
He held a strand of her hair and dangled it in front of her face, fighting a smirk. Some tough assassin.
She grimaced. "With all the surveillance gear I've got set up in the room, what good will that do?"
Curiosity replaced annoyance as she watched him hang the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the doorknob and make use of her personal donation to their added security. He wedged the single strand of hair into the crack of the door, above their heads. A small piece hung barely visible.
"An early warning system ... of sorts."
"I would've expected something a little more high-tech from a guy with your background."
"Nothing wrong with a low-tech advance warning to give us an edge. After all, if it's good enough for MacGyver, it's good enough for me. What I could've done if I had a gum wrapper and a toothpick."
"Really?" She raised an eyebrow.
"No." Christian headed down the corridor.
The woman had no sense of humor.
As they left the main lobby, heading for the street, Christian made a point to catch the eye of the clerk who'd checked them into the hotel earlier. A seed had definitely been planted with the man whose eyes burned Christian's back as he left the hotel.
They grabbed a quick bite at a local street cafe, then killed an hour walking the dark streets of Cuiabá, getting familiar with the city.
At first Christian chose well-lit avenues and crowded thoroughfares. Not hard to find. Even with the late hour, many of the downtown boulevards thrived with action. Along streets lined with palm trees, scooters dodged small sedans and engines revved to a high whine as they blew exhaust into the muggy air. High heels clacked fast on cement sidewalks, accompanied by the low steady rhythm of their male companions, lounge lizards making the rounds bar to bar. Jazz music wafted sultry in the night air, competing with the seductive beat of the samba.
The city had its own tempo. And although traffic fumes and smells hung heavy, an underlying primitive scent refused to be denied. On the edge of civilization, the great rain forest endured, a piece of its heart carved out by man. Christian sensed the wilderness on the outskirts of Cuiabá, and the restless sensation he wanted to forget returned.
"You've grown quiet." Jasmine broke the silence. "I understand the demons that haunt you. In that way, we have much in common. More than you know."
Death was nothing to have in common. Not with her. He had no need to make a connection with Jasmine. He didn't want to like her ... or need to. And he had no faith in the glimpse of humanity she shared with him now, even if there was more to her story.
"There's only one thing we have in common. Let's stay focused on that, shall we?"
If she'd been hurt by his remark, she never let it show. Her face remained a blank slate as she said, "Yes, for Nicky."
The damned heat had finally gotten to him, and his manners were the first to go. At least, that's what he told himself, but he didn't feel the need to
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