Riding on Instinct - Page 67/78

“Only a few more days and I’m done here. Time to move on.” He nodded. “Me, too. My business will be finished here tonight and I’ll be leaving.”

She affected a pout. “So soon? I thought you were going to be here longer.”

“So did I, but it turns out my . . . import deal will wrap up quicker than I thought.”

Just what she needed to know. Excitement shot through her and she found it hard to sit still and play the part. But she put on a disappointed pout. “And we were just getting to know each other.”

“I could maybe stay an extra day, if you convince me.”

Arching a brow, she said, “And how could I convince you of that?”

“Have dinner with me.”

“I’d love to.”

“How much time before your next show?”

“Two hours.”

He looked at his watch. “I have an . . . appointment in about an hour, so that would give us some time alone.”

She didn’t even ask why he would have an appointment after midnight, but she knew what for. And she wanted to wrangle time with him, possibly arrange to somehow be with him when it went down. “So what are we waiting for?” She leaned in, letting her breast brush his arm.

He stood and held out his hand for her. “Let’s go.”

Perfect. “Let me change clothes.”

“No need. You look beautiful as is.”

She laughed. “This is strip club attire, honey. Not really suitable for a restaurant.”

“We aren’t going to a restaurant. We’re going to my hotel room.”

She cocked a brow. “That sure of yourself, are you?”

He slid his thumb over her hand. “I think we both know what we want.”

Gag. “I need to grab my purse. It has my cell phone and I need to stay in touch with the club.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Go ahead, then.”

“It’ll just take me a second.”

She hurried to the dressing room, grabbed her purse, and shot off a quick text message to Spence, then ran back out to Jerry. She linked her hand with his. “Let’s go.”

She was waylaid by Lance, who stepped in front of her. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to head out and have dinner with my friend Jerry here.”

Lance frowned. “Not a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“You . . . have a show to do.”

She glared back at him. “You’re my bodyguard, Lance. Not my keeper. You don’t get to tell me what to do. I’ll be back in plenty of time for my next show.”

He opened his mouth as if to say something, looked around her to stare at DeLaud, then closed it and stepped aside. She smiled at him. “Thanks for worrying about me, but I’ll be fine, really. And I’ll be back soon.”

“You be careful.” He turned and walked away.

Was he partners with DeLaud? Did he know what was going down tonight?

She hoped Spence would get her message, and that she’d somehow be in the middle of Jerry’s deal when it went down. Her skin prickled again with the anticipation that something big was about to happen.

Playtime was over. It was time to put on her agent hat.

They drove to Jerry’s hotel, and he led her up to his room. He laid his hand on the small of her back as he opened the door, then closed and locked it behind him. The sound of the click echoed like a prison lock in her ears. She remembered the gun in her purse. She’d be fine. She was trained for this and could take care of herself. She palmed the piercing at her belly, knew Spence would listen in.

If there was any trouble, he’d be here.

“Champagne?” he asked.

She turned to him and smiled. “I’d love some.”

He picked up the phone, ordered a couple bottles of champagne along with appetizers. Good. She could kill some time with eating, because no way in hell was she going to have sex with him.

It didn’t take long for room service to bring the cart. Jerry popped open a bottle of champagne and poured two glasses, then pulled the lid off a sampler of shrimp, crab, and other snacks. She wasn’t hungry at all, but she grabbed a plate and piled on food.

“I’m starving.” She kept stuffing food in her mouth, hoping she could stave off his advances.

“Sit beside me.” He patted the brocade sofa, giving her no choice but to grab her plate and glass and take a seat next to him. When he took her plate and set it on the table, she took a long swallow of champagne to lubricate her parched throat. Then he took her glass away and leaned in.

Blech. She was going to have to kiss him. She hoped he’d be turned off by her fish breath.

No such luck. He gathered her into his arms and plunged his tongue inside her mouth, ravaging her lips with a deep kiss that utterly revolted her. Jerry was a young, good-looking guy with a great body, but he was also a criminal. That alone repelled her. Yet she still had to do her job, so she kissed him back, trying to envision herself in Spence’s arms, with Spence touching her. That made it easier, though Jerry didn’t touch her or kiss her like Spence did. There was no finesse, no passion between them like there was between her and Spence. Her heart, her emotions, weren’t invested. That made all the difference.

She didn’t love Jerry like she loved Spence. She whimpered.

“Oh, yeah,” Jerry murmured against her lips, thinking she whimpered because of his kiss and his touch.

He was so wrong. And when he reached up to slide his hand inside her shirt and pinch her nipple, she drew back. There was only so much she’d allow.

“I think we—”

She was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Fuck!” Jerry stood and looked down at his watch, then smiled at her. “Whoever it is, I’ll get rid of them.”

She turned on the chaise and watched as he unlocked and opened the door. A young guy came rushing in.

“It’s on.”

Jerry shot a gaze over his shoulder. “I have company.”

“Oh. Sorry. But I need to talk to you. Now.”

“I told you I’d call you. We’ll talk later.”

The guy was jittery, balancing back and forth on the balls of his feet, his hands jammed into the pocket of his baggy jeans. He wore a ball cap and had on a jacket that looked like it was two sizes two big for him. He was young, midtwenties maybe. Shadoe had seen him in the club before, had talked to him after her show. But he wasn’t one of the dockworkers, at least not one she’d seen that day. This guy might be DeLaud’s contact for the drug deal.

Jerry dragged his fingers through his hair, looked at Shadoe, then back at the guy. “Now?”

The guy nodded, leaned in, and whispered. But Shadoe caught what he’d said.

“The launch has already docked beside the ship. They’re ready to transfer.”

Shadoe stood. “Should I leave?” She did her best to affect a disappointed pout.

Jerry held up his hand. “No. Give me a second to think. My appointment is just earlier than I thought it would be.”

Perfect. “I could go with you, then maybe we could take a ride in your car.” Men loved car sex. It was public and naughty.

His lips lifted. “If you don’t mind waiting in the car while I have a short meeting . . .”

She shrugged. “I don’t mind at all. As long as we bring the champagne with us.” She grinned.

He smiled back. “Okay, then.” He turned to the guy. “I’ll meet you there.”

The guy took off and DeLaud grabbed his keys. Shadoe picked up her purse and met him at the door.

“Thank you for being so understanding.”

She pressed a kiss to his lips. “I don’t mind at all. You’re worth waiting for.”

She knew where they were going.

To the docks. The deal was about to go down.

SEVENTEEN

THEY ARRIVED AT THE DOCK GATES AND JERRY TURNED TO HER. “This won’t take long. Just a mix-up with import paperwork and it needs to be taken care of before the shipment departs.”

She held up the bottle in her hands. “My friend and I will be fine here. Don’t worry about it.” She poured more champagne into her glass and kicked off her shoes, purposefully let her skirt ride up, giving him a shot of her G-string. He took a long look between her legs, leaned in to give her a kiss, closed the door, and headed toward a building near the gates, then was swallowed up by the darkness. Damn, she wished she could see where he was.

As soon as he was out of eyesight, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Spence’s number.

“We’ve got you covered. We’re just outside the dock fences, east of your location.”

They must have followed her the entire time. The jitters in her stomach relaxed.

“They went on board a red and white ship named The Royale.”

“You’re fucking insane for leaving with him.”

She ignored his irritation. “I had an opening to go with him and I took it. I think the deal is going down right now so hurry your ass up and get over here.”

“On our way.”

She stepped out of the car and spotted Spence giving her a short wave. He had hidden behind a set of tall piers. Dammit, she really wished she had her jeans and flat shoes on instead of a miniskirt and stilettos. She kicked off her shoes and left them, then went running in her bare feet, thankful she didn’t have to do it on gravel. She ducked down beside Spence.

“Where are AJ and Pax?”

“They’ve moved to the other side. DeLaud and his friends are on the ship. Pax said they moved up the gangplank and went inside.”

“They didn’t see you?”

“Please. We’re using high-powered binoculars to track them.”

Okay, so they knew what they were doing. “Do we know who else is on board?”

“Unknown.”

She nodded, figuring there would be variables involved. “What about calling the other Feds in?”

“After we know for sure the deal is going down. Not until then.”

“I disagree. What if there are fifty men on board? The four of us can’t handle that many alone.”

“Feds are on standby and have been all week, ready to roll at a moment’s notice. If I give the signal that we need backup, they’ll be here.”

She still didn’t like it, but understood the need to wait. If they sent in the Feds before confirming the deal was actually in progress, they’d lose credibility—and the opportunity to nab DeLaud. They knew more than they had a few days ago—the possible rogue agent and the ship responsible—but they still had to lie low to see what happened.

The deal was going down early. The shipment wasn’t supposed to be in until this weekend at the earliest. The timing was thrown off. Maybe that’s how DeLaud and the Colombians got these deals and shipments in, throwing off timetables and expectations and giving the Feds the runaround, making them show up at the wrong time, after the deal had already gone down and the shipment had been off-loaded, distributed, and the ship had left port.

She wondered how DeLaud planned to bypass all the security and get the shipment of drugs off without being caught.

When three couples came down the gangplank, she had her answer.

Decoys. Shipyard security went over to investigate them. Shadoe recognized the girls from the strip club—they had auditioned for Brandon the other day, so they were new and no doubt plants put in there by DeLaud.

The girls did a fine job distracting security, flirting with the guards. The guys were belligerent, the girls acting like drunken partiers who were there just to have a good time with their boyfriends. It was innocent but out of hand and security had to call for backup, which meant the yard wasn’t being covered like it should. Shadoe could hear security arguing about how they weren’t supposed to be on board the ship, the guys saying they wanted to give their girlfriends a tour, the girls trying to act innocent and laughing.