Zharan. You have anything new?'
'I have no news on your friend, Jasmine Lee. My men have canvassed the neighborhood where she was taken and we found no other witnesses, a common outcome in these times. No one wants to get involved.' He sighed heavily on the phone. 'I still have men working this, but if Captain Duarte is involved, we may never know what happened. He would know how to dispose of a body that would never be found. I'm sorry to be so blunt, but if this were my acquaintance, I would want to be mentally prepared for the worst. By nature, perhaps I am a fatalist, a consequence of the work I have chosen.'
Christian shut his eyes, letting the world fade to black. He pictured Jasmine's face and felt the loss of a comrade in arms, but he didn't want to believe it. The woman had saved his life and Raven's—a lifetime ago.
A part of him wanted to rage at the injustice, but another part understood the consequence of the 'work' Jasmine had chosen. What goes around, comes around—and kicks you hard in the butt—but who's to say what was deserved or what was truly unfair?
In hindsight, he had no business judging Jasmine Lee—and yet, he had.
Raven sensed his worry and laid a hand on his chest, her fingers touching the talisman under his shirt. Her beautiful dark eyes gave him comfort, beyond any words he could ever express. Christian brushed back a strand of her hair and forced a smile, but she saw through his facade, a sad expression on her face.
And he loved her all the more for it.
Most of his life, people didn't have a clue what he was about. They considered him a mystery and never bothered to learn more. Maybe he scared people. His emotional scars kept others away. His mother was the exception, but Fiona had secrets of her own, and plenty of them.
Raven had no such agenda. She accepted him faults and all, reading him like an old familiar book. Christian liked the feeling.
He didn't feel alone anymore.
'On the side of good news, we have reason to believe we know where Mr. Charboneau is being held.' The chief had optimism resonating in his voice. 'At this point, however, I can't say anything more. You understand?'
'Yes, certainly.'
'We can't mobilize tonight, but we're leaving at dawn.'
Christian read between the lines, in what the chief didn't say. Working logistics for a tactical maneuver in the jungle involved coordination and planning for all contingencies.
'I don't suppose you can share any of the details.'
'No, sorry. I can't, but we're preparing tonight at an undisclosed location. I've hand-selected my men, not even headquarters knows the location of this op. The fewer who know, the better. If all goes as planned, we can attempt a rescue, perhaps one without bloodshed. That is my hope.' Zharan cleared his throat. 'I apologize for being so mysterious. I hope you understand.'
'Yeah, I do, believe me. But I've got a favor to ask.'
'Yes, Mr. Delacorte?'
'Take me with you,' he pleaded, knowing he'd pay the price. Raven's eyes flashed with shock that evolved into anger. She punched him lightly in the chest, then pointed a finger to herself. She wanted to go too.
Silence. Chief Zharan didn't jump on his offer. Finally, he said, 'Taking a civilian is not exactly standard operating procedure.'
Raven punched him harder this time, looking more determined. She wasn't going to quit.
'Please . . . can you hold a minute, Chief.' Christian covered the phone. Narrowing his eyes at Raven, he whispered, 'Sorry, I gotta do this.'
'Think about it, Christian. You left Chicago and I came after you. What do you think will happen if you try to leave me behind this time?' She crossed her arms and stared him down.
He'd seen that look—stubborn determination. He cocked his head, knowing he couldn't hide the disbelief on his face.
Still holding the phone to his ear, covering it with a hand, he shook his head. 'No. Can't risk it.'
Raven softened her expression, a show of love on her beautiful face. Going for his jugular, she pulled out the heavy artillery from her playbook on feminine wiles. He prepared himself for both barrels between the eyes.
'Look, my job is dangerous, Christian. It's what I do.' She raised her chin, fixing her gaze on him. 'You can't protect me every minute . . . even though I love you for trying.' She smiled, a gesture that quickly faded. 'Put yourself in my shoes. Think how I'd feel if I let you go and something happened to you. I'd never—' She couldn't finish and looked away.
He knew what she meant. Jasmine had felt the same when Charboneau was kidnapped on her watch. And no way he'd let Raven go without him if their situations were reversed.
He nodded and took his hand away from the phone.
'Sorry, Chief Zharan, I'm back. I just wanted to say that I'm not exactly an inexperienced civilian.'
Raven looked upset again, misinterpreting his intentions. He raised a hand, quietly asking for her trust before he continued, 'I'm well-trained in weapons, tactics, and I can follow orders. Please ... with all that's happened. I have to go.'
The man sighed again. 'To tell you the truth, I'm concerned for your safety if I leave you in Cuiaba . . . and your lady friend. With a certain captain lost and unaccounted for, I fear he may not hesitate to arrange another 'arrest.'' The man's voice was laden with sarcasm and full of disappointment regarding his own man. 'With the rescue operation, I will be preoccupied. And I don't have enough men to protect you while I'm gone. Hard to know who to trust, if you know what I mean.'
'Then bring us both along. Raven and I can handle a weapon, if you allow it. Either way, we'd be part of your team.'
Nodding, Raven grinned and crossed her fingers. Christian raised an eyebrow and shook his head. You had to love a woman who got jazzed over the prospect of an armed assault, but it sure made dating hard to top.
'Very well.' Zharan still didn't sound convinced, but to his credit, he understood Christian's need to go.
'The detective you met previously? I'll have him pick you up at five-thirty A.M. He will meet you in front of the hotel.' Referring to Detective Fuentes, Zharan played it cagey to the bitter end. 'It will be dark, but sunrise will come soon enough. Bring whatever weapons you choose, purely for self-defense. But make no mistake, Mr. Delacorte. Both of you will follow my orders to the letter. My men will handle any tactical maneuvers. Is that clear?'
'Understood. And thanks, Chief Zharan. You won't regret it.' He ended the call and fixed his eyes on Raven. 'We're on. I'll fill you in on the details. But tonight I want you all to myself. Deal?'
He held out his hand.
'Deal.' She nodded and shook it.
Staring into Raven's deep, soul-branding eyes, Christian thought of only one thing.
After dinner from room service, Christian and Raven spent a quiet evening, preparing for tomorrow morning. They had showered together, taking time for every caress and holding each other in the hot stream—a loving intimacy he had never experienced. Neither had spoken, during or since.
The grueling trip to Brazil and his complete surrender to Raven had left him drained . . . and more than a little worried.
