he shuttered them. She’d stifled the answering twinge of awareness. Well, of course, she would notice those eyes and that body. Those hard muscles—Were something she was not going to think about. She refused to be attracted to anyone who would work for a man like her brother-in-law.
She’d sworn off men, anyway, especially the alpha male type. Her father had controlled her long enough. Julio had seemed nice, but had quickly turned all macho, head of the house, you’ll-do-as-told, after the wedding. And Don Pedro…
She shuddered when she thought of what her life would become if she couldn’t get away from here.
She put a few extra items into the bag, then looked into the rustic mirror on the wall. “If you don’t want others to control your life, then don’t let them,” she said the words out loud, voicing the resolution she’d come to while she’d tossed and turned through all those sleepless nights in the jungle’s humid heat.
There was only one solution: she had to take control.
She had to get herself out of here. And she would, using Jase somehow to achieve her goal. He was the key to her escape. And she would do whatever it took to get away from here. She’d been praying for a rescuer for too long—a police raid, or drug bust, anything. But nobody was coming. She had to accept at last that saving herself would be up to her. She fisted her hands. She would get away from this cursed place. And once she did, no man was ever going to control her life again.
“Some years from now, we’re going to meet a nice, mellow guy who loves kids,” she promised her baby. “Maybe a low-key music teacher,” she added. She liked music.
But first she would have to deal with Jase.
She stashed the backpack under her bed. Step one, completed.
Now on to step two. Somehow, she had to trick Jase into helping her. She couldn’t blackmail or threaten him into it. She had a feeling he wouldn’t find her overly threatening. That left bribery. In exchange for his assistance, she would give him something he wanted. And since she had no money, the only avenue left to her was seduction.
The thought of what that might entail filled her with mixed emotions. But she drew a deep breath and strengthened her resolve. She placed a hand on her abdomen. “I’m going to do whatever it takes to get us out of here.” She would go to any length to save her baby.
THE MEN SPENT the morning preparing for battle. No teams had left the camp on their scheduled transport trips. Runners were sent to the teams who were out with orders to return to the camp posthaste. The downstairs of the main house brimmed with the Don’s closest men. Everyone expected the fighting to begin by the following morning.
Cristobal’s men were still some hours away, and they wouldn’t want to fight as soon as they got here. They would want to map the terrain first, get a good night’s sleep.
Jase had been turned away at the door when he’d gone up to the hacienda to discuss taking over Paulo’s position in packing. Roberto had other priorities right now. He was focused on strengthening the camp’s defenses and didn’t have time for ambitious foot soldiers.
So Jase dropped that plan and had gone back an hour later, pretending to be looking for Lucas. He’d gotten turned away once again. By noon, he was still no closer to planting the bug, and his nerves hummed with frustration.
He hated the waiting part of undercover ops. Of course, 90 percent of undercover ops consisted of waiting. He’d made progress over the past couple of months, had gained important information, but he wanted to have that damn bug planted already.
He walked by the main house every chance he got. On his fifth pass, he spotted Melanie on the balcony once again. He would have been lying if he said he didn’t feel a little thrill when her eyes settled on him.
“You,” she said in a bossy tone. “Come right up. I need you to help me move something.”
Exactly the break he needed. He stifled a grin and put on an expression of mindless obedience. “Sí, señora. Right away.”
Having heard the exchange, the man at the door let him through at last. Half a dozen men stood around the table in the large room he walked into, a combination foyer-slash-living-room area that had been converted into a war room.
The men glanced up at his entrance, but nobody questioned him. They trusted the guard at the door not to let in anyone who didn’t have any business being in there. They were all busy drawing up battle plans and arguing with each other.
Jase headed straight for the stairs.
That did draw attention.
“Hey,” Roberto called after him. “Where do you think you’re going?”
He hunched his shoulders, put his head down, making himself into the very picture of subservience. “The señora wants me to move some furniture.”
Roberto rolled his eyes, probably thinking how it was just like a woman to be interior decorating with an impending battle looming over their heads. Which was exactly what Jase was thinking, so he shot an I-know-what-you-mean look back at the man and shook his head slightly.
Roberto waved him on with a disgusted gesture and returned to his battle planning.
No need to hurry now. Jase noted every door, every hallway, every man. He planned on getting a good look around upstairs as well, but as he reached the top of the stairs, he found the woman waiting for him in her open doorway.
She wore white this time, a linen dress designed for the climate and to accommodate her motherly curves.
“In here.” She gestured with impatience. “I need this couch moved out of the sun. I want it in the far corner.” She drew into the middle of the room.
He followed her. Did she know that a battle was coming? Did she trust Don Pedro so blindly that she didn’t realize how much danger she was in? Cristobal would be no pushover. He’d all but obliterated the Don’s previous headquarters. The man was playing to win.
“I just want to be more comfortable,” she was saying.
Silk pillows, fans, a sprawling bed with mosquito netting, books and stacks of magazines filled the large space. The Don had clearly settled her in for a long stay. She could have run a small convenience store out of her room.
He tried not to think of the stark contrast between the barracks and her room, between what she had at her disposal and what Mochi had, sleeping on the floor next to the stove in the kitchen. She was the boss’s pampered girlfriend. She lived in a different world from the rest of them. That bothered him, but he didn’t let it show.
He grabbed the end of the couch and dragged the damned thing to where she pointed. Took him about three seconds. But she didn’t look pleased. She looked disappointed.
“Wrong spot?”
She shook her head, looking at him with something akin to panic. Which made him wonder just what was going on in that beautiful head of hers. Then the next second, her whole demeanor changed, as if she’d just thought of something.
“Thank you.” Her full lips stretched into a smile. “Would you like a glass of cold tea?”
Definitely. Especially if she kept smiling at him like that. But that quick change in her demeanor made him uneasy. “I better get going.”
“It’s just—” She looked away. “It’d be great to talk to another American. I get lonely up here.”
The bossy attitude she’d displayed on the balcony was gone. Maybe she only used that tone around the men to assure their respect and to make sure they wouldn’t perceive her as weak. But she seemed to be letting her guard down around him. Whatever the reason, her vulnerability grabbed him as nothing else could have, and somewhat mollified him. She did look lonely, and desperate, suddenly, in some way.
“I can’t imagine Don Pedro would neglect a woman as beautiful as you are,” he told her in