Into the Mist (Falcon Mercenary Group #1)(30)

He proved her right by whistling when she wiggled out of the wetsuit. She shook her head and thrust her legs into the pants and then pulled the T-shirt over her head. When she turned around, she threw the wetsuit at him, smacking him on the chest.

He grinned, tossed it aside then shoved a pair of boots toward her, complete with a pair of socks. There was a reason he did so much work for Falcon. He never missed the details.

“You realize this is going to put you into hot water with Jonah,” she said as she pulled on the socks and proceeded to lace up her boots.

He leaned back, adopting a casual slouch look that fit him perfectly. “Nah. He’ll be pissed. Ain’t no doubt about that. He’ll threaten to kick my ass. I’ll threaten to kick his. We’ll scratch our balls, but at the end of the day he knows he needs me.”

Her shoulders shook with silent laughter. For all the hilarity, it was a pretty accurate description of what would happen. Jonah would be furious, and he’d threaten all sorts of things, and with anyone else, he’d totally carry them out. But Tits? No way Jonah was going to bite the hand that had fed them on too many occasions.

“Well, thanks. I would have had a hell of a time getting off the island without your help.”

His expression darkened, and the light teasing was gone in a second. “I’m only doing this because I want to help D. If you think I’d let you put that pretty ass of yours in this kind of danger for any other reason, you’re short a few brain cells that I’ve always attributed to you. You’re a big girl. You can take care of business, ain’t no doubt, but I don’t like it. I don’t blame Jonah a bit for shutting your ass down. But D and I are tight, and I’ll do anything to help my brother out.”

“You and me both,” Tyana whispered.

He held out a beefy fist, and she balled her own fingers into a fist and bumped it against his.

“You holler if you get into any trouble, you hear?”

“Yeah, I hear. Don’t worry. I’m hoping this doesn’t take more than a few days at most. Then I can go back so Jonah can toss me out of FMG, and I can come to work for you.”

“You’d have to have bigger tits,” he said with a slow perusal of her chest.

“You are such an ass**le,” she muttered.

Chapter Eleven

When Tyana touched down in Paris, she immediately called Esteban to set up a meeting. He didn’t sound surprised to hear from her, but then he thought he held all the cards.

She checked into a hostel with the fake passport Tits had arranged and took a hasty shower to wash the sea grime from her body. She was starving, but she’d take care of that problem after she met with Esteban.

She shoved her stash of weapons under the bed but armed herself with the knife Mad Dog had given her, something she never went anywhere without. Deciding a couple more wouldn’t hurt, she slipped two into the sleeves of her boots.

Hastily pulling her hair into a ponytail, she then donned a light jacket over her muscle shirt and headed out to her meeting with Esteban. Dusk wasn’t too far off, though there was still plenty of light for her to stay aware of her surroundings.

She hated hotel meetings. Too closed in. Not open or public enough for her tastes. But Esteban had given her instructions to meet him in his suite at a swank hotel near Avenue des Champs-Élysées. Pretentious bastard.

She made a careful sweep of the area as she left the hostel and began walking casually down the street. She pulled a backpack over one arm, giving the appearance of just another college kid hiking across Europe.

After three blocks her neck prickled, and she fought the urge to do the clichéd stop and check. She didn’t want to give away her suspicions, but she was certain she’d picked up a tail.

When she crossed the street at the next intersection, she glanced right to observe the sidewalk she’d just come from. Nothing immediately jumped out at her, but then a man wearing a leather coat, expensive Italian loafers and what looked to be tailor-made slacks made eye contact with her.

She grinned flirtatiously and gave him an appreciative look, but he didn’t respond. No acknowledgement. Just a cold stare, straight through her.

The question was, who did he work for? Esteban? Eli Chance? Someone else entirely? It so wasn’t Jonah’s style to hire a henchman. No, he’d come after her himself and haul her ass back to the island.

For that matter Eli didn’t strike her as the type to hire others to do his dirty work, either. He’d looked her up personally after the deal in Singapore.

That only left Esteban, and maybe he was making sure she hadn’t set him up. She’d find out soon enough.

She didn’t want to take the impending confrontation too public, so she veered off the main stretch and ducked into the narrow alleyways lining the back streets. It was quieter back here, though certainly not noiseless.

She kept her stance casual as she rounded the next corner, but as soon as she was out of sight, she flattened herself against the building and waited.

Suave Guy turned the corner a few seconds later, and she lashed out with a kick to his midsection. He doubled over and stumbled back. She launched herself at him, but he recovered quickly, landing a fist to her mouth.

Her head flew back in pain as her lip split. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. She spit, and it spattered on the street.

“At least you don’t hit like a pu**y, despite appearances to the contrary,” she taunted.