“She’s my new toy,” the man said. “She fucked up my little visit with Eddie-boy, and now she’s seen too much.”

“Why is she still alive?” the man asked as casually as if they were discussing a sick plant. “Valzar isn’t going to like this.”

“Why do you think she’s still alive? Look at her,” Sean replied, jerking his head in the general direction of her breasts. “I could use the services of a pro right now, and she’s feeling motivated to stay alive. We’ll work something out.”

The man shrugged, apparently indifferent to her fate.

“So long as she can’t ID us when this is all over,” he said. “Oh, we got Edgar for you. He’s in a dumpster about a block the other direction.”

“Thanks.”

Sean pushed her into the van and hopped up after her. She lurched against the other man, and he pushed her back into a seat. His touch held no kindness.

“Let’s go,” Sean said, thumping the back of the seat before him. The van swerved out into the street, tires squealing across the wet pavement. Sandra sank back into to the seat, wishing with all her might that Sean and his friends had gotten to Edgar long before she’d ever heard of the asshole.

Chapter Two

Sean collapsed on the seat next to the hooker. He was exhausted, soaked and had missed out on getting personal revenge against the man he hated more than anyone on earth. He’d waited years for that revenge. It was revenge for his fallen men, too, although they would never know about it. They had died to feed Williams’ greed, along with the hostage they were trying to rescue.

Now he wanted to howl, to punch out with his fists and kill. He forced the feelings back, maintaining his frozen exterior. He had to stay calm, had to escape. Because of her, he’d lost the chance to kill Williams.

He wanted to hate her, but she smelled too good, even wet and muddy. It had been five years, two months, and ten days since he’d touched a woman.

He wanted desperately to touch this one.

His old friend Del sat in the seat next to them, carefully ignoring their guest. His silence spoke volumes.

She was a liability; she could link all of them to Williams. He should have killed her.

Del was right, of course. She was a liability. He really couldn’t afford to let her live, but he’d be damned if he wanted to kill her just yet. Or at all, really. A pro like her would understand, they would come to an arrangement, he told himself. Hell, she might like South America. He sure did.

He reached between his legs, adjusting his pants to a more comfortable position. His cock throbbed. He could almost feel her squirming beneath him on the ground, feel her soft breasts pushing against his chest as she gasped for air. Her belly had given way to him so easily, and he knew instinctively that her legs would have cradled him to perfection. She was a whore—she knew how to touch a man in all the right places. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on her.

She shivered beside him. Probably cold, he thought, and scared. Sean wrapped one arm around her shoulder, pulling her stiff body against his. She didn’t want to be touched—he could feel the fear radiating from her. But she was so soft and small next to him, like a little rabbit. He wanted to squeeze her. Sean lifted her onto his lap, pulling her head to his chest.

“We’ll work something out,” he repeated softly, trying to calm her fears.

Beside him Del gave a snort of disgust.

“You can sit up front if you like,” Sean said, giving Del a pointed look. Del shook his head slowly, but leveraged his large frame up. He stood, bracing himself against the seatbacks as he moved forward and dropped down into the broad passenger-side chair.

Sean ignored him, turning back to his newfound treasure instead.

Her little ass was tight and warm against him, and he could feel himself swelling even larger. He closed his eyes, and his hands clutched her body almost spasmodically. Hot. Female. His.

She moaned and gave a whimper of protest.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be a better customer than Edgar Williams,” he said, not wanting to think about those fat hands touching her. It was better to imagine she wasn’t a whore, that she was his woman, and he could do whatever he wanted with her. Of course, he could do whatever he wanted with her, he reflected, so long as he paid her enough. Once upon a time, the thought might have bothered him, perhaps even disgusted him.

Now it just made him harder.

He knew they’d arrive at the airstrip soon, but he couldn’t help himself. He had to touch her. He grasped her small waist, lifting her and repositioning her so that she straddled his lap, facing him. He lifted his hips, pressing his erection up into the juncture of her thighs.

Damn, that was good.

She moaned once more, and he opened his eyes to look at her face.

Her eyes were large and brown in her face, pixie eyes, he thought with bitter bemusement. Not the kind of eyes you should find on a working girl. She had pale skin with a smattering of freckles across her nose, and she bit her lip nervously as she searched his face. The gesture drew his attention to her lips, and he studied them thoughtfully. They were full, slightly chapped. He imagined kissing them, knowing full well she’d probably bite him if he tried. At least he hoped she would. He liked a woman with a little spark.

She didn’t seem to have much fight left in her at the moment, but she’d sure given him a run for his money earlier. He’d actually thought for a moment that she might get away from him.

He wondered what she was thinking, and then decided he didn’t care. She was sexy as hell. He looked lower, and realized that if they had more light he’d probably be able to see right through her wet shirt. As it was, he could see the faint outline of her bra. It must be black, he realized, to stand out like that. He closed his eyes, imagining her rounded, pouty breasts draped in wisps of black lace. He groaned and rocked her forward over his cock.

He didn’t want to think about how many men she’d had; he wanted to think about the soft, warm spot between her legs. He wanted to thrust up into her so hard she screamed. He imagined doing it, and his hips bucked up at her again. The friction of their clothes rubbing felt almost painful to his sensitive flesh, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Grasping her hips firmly in his hands, he lifted her slightly and then rubbed her down the length of his cock. He did it again, repeating the motion until he thought he’d die.

Tension spiraled down toward his groin, building with each motion until he thought he might burst right out of his pants.

Or worse yet, burst in them.

He reached down, determined to free his length from the imprisoning cloth. She could touch him, wrap her fingers around him and massage him right there. It would be amazing, the most perfect sensation he could imagine.

Let her earn her keep; they all had to do their part.

But even as he wormed his hand between them, the van came to a stop and Del turned to look at him with a toothy, humorless grin.

“You’re lucky,” he said, “Valzar’s come up in the world. He’s got a private jet with a bedroom. I suggest you wait until you’re on board before doing anything else. We’re not out of the woods yet, you know.”

Sean nodded, knowing Del was right. He’d already wasted precious time hunting Williams; his deal for protection and cover from the CIA wasn’t worth a damn if he didn’t even make it out of the country. The locals were still trying to catch him. Hell, he was kind of surprised they weren’t waiting for him at the airstrip. For once, though, his luck seemed to be holding. The door on the side of the van slid open, and a dark-skinned man in a loose shirt and jeans smiled at him.

“I see you haven’t changed, amigo,” Valzar said in his soft, lightly accented voice. “Always a girl in tow.

Let’s board the plane—we’ve been waiting for you. It hasn’t occurred to your stupid gringo prison guards to shut down the airspace around here, but they’ll figure it out soon enough. Let’s leave before they think of it.”

Sean smiled, unexpectedly pleased to see Valzar. Damn, he’d missed the man.

“Out,” he said, pushing the woman off his lap and ahead of him as he jumped down onto the tarmac. In the distance he could see Valzar’s plane—small, sleek and fast.

“You’ve come up in the world, friend,” he said, giving the man a hug. The woman stood next to them awkwardly; he didn’t bother watching her. Del eyed her coldly, fingering his gun.

Valzar took his arm and started walking him toward the plane. Del followed, pushing the woman along beside them. His little bird wouldn’t get away while Del stood guard.

“You’re a lucky man, Sean,” Valzar said. “Deals like this one don’t come along very often. We all thought you were long lost.”

“I thought I might be, too,” Sean said. He’d been out of his prison cell less than four hours, but already it seemed like some kind of horrible dream.

He’d rather die than go back.

“How much do I owe you?” he asked, nodding toward the plane. “I know you must have paid them to help me escape, not to mention the tab for that little beauty.”

“When I heard that an opportunity was coming, I couldn’t resist,” Valzar said, shrugging with Latin elegance. “Don’t worry about the money. We’re partners, remember? You still have plenty of cash lying around, you know. I’ve been taking good care of it for you.”

“I didn’t expect that,” Sean said, shaking his head. “We always said that if one of us got caught, the other shouldn’t look back. That was the plan.”