with a rigged game. I prefer someone else's name on the bullet.'
'Nice to see you've got a strong sense of fair play. Glad you're on my side.'
Even as he said the words, Christian didn't believe Jasmine picked sides. Why complicate the issue when no one else mattered but numero uno? He knew the exotic woman played by her own set of rules. No way in hell
Yet Jasmine had sought him out and risked her life to rescue Charboneau. Out of loyalty? Or out of something more? None of it made sense, given what he believed of this woman. Maybe Raven had been right to warn him. Had he stepped into some grand conspiracy concocted by Jasmine ... or Charboneau? Another retribution scheme against Fiona?
He'd leapt into the fray head first, way too vulnerable to anything associated with his past and the father he never knew.
'Few things surprise me anymore,' she said, her fingers slithering up his arm like a nest of snakes zeroing in on their next meal. 'But I am willing to see what you have up your sleeve, Christian.'
CHAPTER 8
A red blinking eye drew his attention. Christian walked down the hallway to his hotel suite with Jasmine. She caught his eye movement and nodded acknowledgment with a sideways glance. They were on the same wavelength, checking out the security of the penthouse floor. Two security cameras had a shot of the corridor, one on either end, with another focused on the bank of elevators. A final camera had been positioned toward the doors into the private suites. Adequate, nothing more.
Christian lived most of his life in Fiona's world, an existence defined by the power of money. Still, the Hotel Palma Dourada distinguished itself. Exquisite oil paintings in extravagant frames brought color to tan walls. Plush rugs and carpeting deadened the sound in the hall. The air smelled fresh and crisp. By all appearances, the hotel earned its elite status, making it hard for him to believe any crime had been committed here.
As the bellhop opened the door and pulled in the luggage on wheels, Christian let Jasmine deal with the man's gratuity while he scoped out the room. Charboneau's suite. He pictured his father standing in this very spot only four days ago, contemplating what tomorrow would bring.
Now he found himself doing the same thing.
The impressive front entry had a marble floor covered by an elaborate native print rug. A crystal chandelier hung from the high-pitched ceiling in the foyer, with similar fixtures dazzling the interior. Ornate mirrors, classic Brazilian sculpture and artwork, adorned the suite, bringing richness to ivory and gold walls. Lush, tropical plants grew from huge ceramic pots spaced throughout the penthouse. From the front entry, Christian saw that the suite had two bedrooms with private baths and a massive living room. To the left of the wet bar, imposing French doors led to the private balcony.
Living quarters fit for Nicholas Charboneau.
After the bellhop left, he said to Jasmine, 'I know we agreed on reserving the same room you and Charboneau shared—in case the kidnappers tried to contact us—but you could've booked another room for me.'
'Oh, please. There are two bedrooms in this suite and more than enough space to share. Besides, your detective is not here. She will never know of our cozy accommodations.' Jasmine stepped closer, brushing a finger across his waist. Another smile tugged at her lips.
Then her expression grew more solemn. Fatigue might have played a part in her tiring of the long-standing game between them. For an instant she let her defenses down and spoke her mind. 'Besides, having you here reminds me of Nicky. I hoped you wouldn't mind.'
'Let's just say I would've preferred my privacy.'
From his vantage point, Christian watched her expression reflected in the mirror behind the wet bar. A veil of concern clouded her eyes. He knew so little about the woman, but one thing was certain. Jasmine had a deep connection to Charboneau, a link he didn't understand. Her flirting with him might only be a distraction, a way to cover up her true feelings for his father. At least, he hoped that's all it was.
'It's time to take care of business.' With a stern face, Jasmine fell into her role as bodyguard, checking out the other rooms with efficiency. 'You will take this room.' She gave the order, directing him with a wave of her hand, eyes alert. 'If we have eavesdroppers, I want to know about it.'
She rummaged through the black duffel and retrieved scanning gear. State-of-the-art and very high tech. The best Charboneau's money could buy. With ear jack in place, she ran the equipment quietly through each room, over walls, light fixtures, and phones. As a professional himself, he admired her thoroughness. When the place had been swept without incident, Jasmine set up her countersurveillance gear, to jam eavesdroppers from a distance.
Standing by his side, she gave her assessment. 'Looks like the suite's clean, but from outside, parabolic mics and laser surveillance are still a threat. Doesn't hurt to take precautions.'
'Good, I agree. But before we get to your agenda, I need to ask you something.' He stepped closer to her. In typical Jasmine fashion, she gave her acceptance with only a tilt of her head, words unnecessary. 'If the kidnappers contacted you for any reason, you would let me know, right?'
She merely stared at him, her dark eyes a blank slate.
'This is not a game, Christian. I know you and I do not trust one another, but we have to get past that, for Nicky's sake.' She sighed with drama. 'Yes, I would tell you.'
Even hearing the words, he wasn't convinced. The woman could sell time-share condos to men on death row. Still, he would play the cards he'd been dealt.
'Now can we get on with this?' She stepped to the French doors located near the balcony. 'That is where they came in. They punched the glass and opened the door.'
She touched a windowpane. 'Right here. It seems they were prompt to make repairs, like Nicky was never here.' Annoyance creased her brow.
Christian nodded. 'With the cameras along the hall, we should have a record of what happened outside the suite that night. We'll ask hotel security tomorrow, see if they'll cooperate if given enough monetary incentive. Let's hope Captain Duarte hasn't taken custody of everything.'
'Not likely.' She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned a shoulder against a wall. 'The man does not strike me as inept. Did you see the eyes on that snake?'
One reptile to another, Jasmine had an inside track, but Christian only shrugged and opened the doors to the balcony to step outside. Sounds of the city swelled below as he peered over the balustrade. Colorful lights of Cuiaba churned beneath him like a witch's caldron, casting its spell. Eventually, he broke free of its seductive pull to search the darkness, looking for a means of escape for the men who had kidnapped his father.
'No easy way out. Rappeling to the street from here would've drawn too much attention. And security cameras would've nailed 'em if they left by the front door. If they dropped from the roof, maybe they left the same way. What's on the back side of this building?'
'The hotel parking garage.' She nodded. 'So you figure they escaped to the garage rooftop, probably to a waiting vehicle?'
'It makes the most sense.' He narrowed his eyes and raised his chin. 'And if the garage has surveillance, maybe . . .'
She grinned. 'Perhaps Captain Duarte missed the security cameras in the garage. Now that's a notion with possibility. Good thinking, little acorn.'
She caught him by surprise with the familiarity. In her mind, he was the acorn that hadn't fallen far from the imposing Charboneau tree, the spitting image of his father.
'You know I hate that name, don't you?' He fixed a stern expression to his face and folded his arms across his chest.
'Most assuredly. There are many ways to get a rise out of a man.' She pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow, matching his stance. 'Please don't deny me my fun.'
