Chapter 5
FIVE
The external elements of Jasper’s persona slipped into place—the designer clothes, the expensive cologne, the carefully tousled hair. He’d done this transformation so many times that it should have been effortless.
But his fingers fumbled with the buttons of his silk shirt as he dressed in the cabin’s small bedroom.
Tonight felt different. Because this time, someone had seen behind the mask.
The night before, Captain Kenzie had eaten dinner with the playboy, the man he pretended to be, not that she’d wanted to.
Today, she’d witnessed him in tactical gear, gun in hand, making decisions and snapping orders. Today’s Jaz was closer to the man he really was. Or maybe it was all that was left of the man he used to be.
A text vibrated his phone, and he glanced at it. Wentz was demanding an explanation for the explosion. He tapped a quick reply.
Rescued the crew. Couldn’t risk cartel thugs recognizing me and reporting back.
The three little dots told him Wentz was tapping a response. When it came, Jaz wasn’t surprised.
OK.
Then, a beat later…
The woman captain might be involved. Be careful.
Jaz didn’t think Captain Kenzie had had any notion she’d been smuggling drugs for a cartel. If Wentz had seen the shock on her face when Jaz showed her those crates, he’d agree.
Well, maybe not. Wentz didn’t trust anybody. That was about the only thing Jaz had in common with his DEA contact.
He stowed his phone and ran a hand through his hair, creating the messiness in his short cut that was meant to look easy and carefree.
Kenzie was innocent. He was sure of it. Well, almost sure. As sure as he ever was of anything. The woman had been used. And now he needed to use her, to find out everything she knew about the people who’d hired her.
He glared at himself in the mirror. How had his life come to this? More importantly, how was he supposed to perform his role in front of a woman who knew it was all fake? “You can do this. You have to do this.”
His reflection seemed skeptical. He headed for the door, then knocked before opening it to warn her.
“You might as well come in.” Her voice held a combination of exasperation and surrender. “Or…out, I guess.”
He opened the door, and his facade nearly cracked.
She’d chosen the most conservative dress in the chest, but on her athletic frame, the navy silk hung just right.
The hemline showed off legs toned from years at sea, and the squared neckline highlighted her sun-kissed skin.
She wore the blond wig, and he found himself wishing she could reveal her natural color.
At first glance, she looked nothing like Captain Kenzie, the serious young sailor who always wore cargo pants and crewneck T-shirts.
“I’m not wearing any of those.” Kenzie glared at the pile of high heels he’d pulled out earlier.
His gaze slipped to her feet, clad in a pair of flip-flops she must’ve found in the chest. “You need real shoes,” Jasper said, returning his gaze to her face, carefully not focusing on the way the dress hugged her curves. “For the cover to work.”
“Really? Flip-flops will ruin everything?” She waved him off before he answered. “I’ll wear my boat shoes.”
“Heels complete the look.”
“You sound like my sister Brooklynn. Do you subscribe to Glamour magazine, too?”
“Only for the articles,” he deadpanned, searching for the right words to convince her. He couldn’t order her to put on dress shoes. She wasn’t one to do what she was told. “The people we’re about to meet are dangerous. They need to believe you’re just a tourist I picked up.”
“You never pick up women in boat shoes?”
Rather than defend his lifestyle, he just leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms.
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re worried they’ll recognize me? Even in this ridiculous get-up?”
The dress was neither a get-up nor ridiculous. She looked…smashing.
Captain Kenzie seemed to go out of her way not to look smashing.
“I don’t want anyone to have reason to doubt you’re who we say you are. Captain Kenzie never wears heels.” He glanced at his watch. “We need to go. The party already started, and I have to make an appearance.”
Kenzie huffed but reached for a pair of silver sandals with a short heel. “When I twist an ankle, you’re carrying me.”
Yeah. Having her in his arms would be a real hardship. “Deal.”
She slipped on the shoes, not even bothering to sit first. She had remarkable balance, not surprising for someone who spent most of her life on rolling decks.
When she was done, she spread her arms. “Will I do?”
She’d more than “do.” She looked…she looked like the kind of trouble that could blow up his whole life.
Not that he’d mind, considering he hated his life. “You look…” Amazing. Beautiful. “…fine.”
“I look ridiculous,” Kenzie muttered.
Jasper grabbed his keys and wallet, trying to ignore the way this woman made his heart race, and not always in frustration. This was a mission. She was an asset. Nothing more. “You look like someone who doesn’t know the difference between port and starboard, which is exactly what we’re going for.”
“What’s our story? If anyone asks how we met or anything about me, we should have our stories straight.”
She was thinking a few steps ahead, but she’d proven herself resourceful from the moment those pirates had attacked the yacht.
He opened the door and waited until she’d stepped onto the porch. “Your name is Simone Laurent. You’re from Vancouver, here on vacation.”
“Make it Nova Scotia. I’ve never been to Vancouver.”
“Fair enough.” He pressed the code to lock the door and engage the silent alarm. “Keep it simple. The less detail, the fewer lies to remember.”
“Simone,” she repeated, testing the name. “Okay. And how did we meet?”
He started toward the path that led to the road. “At a bar near the beach last night. You were with friends, I bought you a drink, we hit it off.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s all anyone needs to know. If anyone presses for details, giggle and change the subject. Act like you’re too interested in me to care about small talk.”
“Giggle?” She looked genuinely horrified. “I’m not so much a giggler.”
“Simone is. And she’s a drinker.”
“I don’t drink.”
“I’m aware. It’s one more thing you’ll have to fake.”
Outside, the night had fully settled in, the world alive with the symphony of a thousand nocturnal critters. Beside him, Kenzie moved carefully, testing the uneven path with her heels.
“Oh, sorry.” He flicked on his phone’s flashlight to light the way. He’d walked this a thousand times—and never in heels.
“Thanks.”
“Sure.”
“How are we getting to this party?”
“I’m parked up here.” He should’ve let her wear the boat shoes and change into the heels in his car. “You need me to carry you?”
“I can walk.” She held her head high, but her next step on the uneven ground nearly sent her sprawling.
Jasper caught her elbow to steady her, the warm skin of her arm sending an unexpected jolt through him. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” She ground out the words through gritted teeth, hopefully just embarrassed, not hurt.
He let her go. “It’s only a little farther.”
They emerged from the path onto a dirt road where a tiny structure waited. From the front, it looked like an abandoned shack. He lifted the hidden garage door on the back, revealing his Porsche, just one more element of his disguise.
He clicked the key fob, and the car chirped as it unlocked. Jasper opened the passenger door for Kenzie.
She gripped the door frame and lowered herself into the seat, tugging at the hem of her dress as it rode up her thighs.
He closed the door and circled to the driver’s side, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. He needed to get whatever information she had and move on with his mission. He hadn’t counted on her being so…distracting.
The leather seat was cool and smooth as he slid behind the wheel. He started the engine, then turned to face her. “From this point forward, you’re Simone. Wealthy tourist from Nova Scotia.”
She nodded slowly. “Got it. Let’s go party.” Her frown told him exactly how excited she was.
He could only hope she’d be more convincing when they arrived.
Twenty minutes later, Jaz pulled up outside a posh resort in Gustavia and turned to Kenzie/Simone. “You ready for this?”
Her eyes were wide, but she nodded.
An attendant opened her door. “Good evening, miss.”
“Hi.” Kenzie stepped out of the car with more grace than she’d shown on the path.
Jasper handed over his keys and slipped a folded bill to the young man. Another part of the act—flash the cash, reinforce the image. The playboy never hesitated to spend.
“Thank you, Mr. Jaz.”
“Just Jaz.” He grinned at the familiar valet as he stepped beside Kenzie, his hand finding the small of her back, the silk of her dress cool beneath his palm.
Her spine stiffened at his touch. She seemed to force herself to relax.
“Smile,” he murmured close to her ear. “You’re supposed to be smitten.”
She turned to him with a fake smile. “Like this?”
“More like you can’t believe your luck, getting to spend the evening with me.” He ignored her quiet scoff and guided her toward the terrace, where string lights twinkled overhead and the smooth sounds of a jazz quartet floated on the evening breeze.
All the regulars were there, wealthy tourists and locals mingling, cocktails in hand. Waiters in crisp white jackets circulated with trays of food.
They’d barely moved five feet into the party before her steps faltered, her fake smile slipping away.
“Don’t be nervous, babe. They’re gonna love you.” He ducked to whisper in her ear. “Remember, you just met the man of your dreams.”
“I think I’d rather face the pirates.”
He chuckled. “Just follow my lead.” He wrapped his arm around her back and urged her forward, scanning the crowd, nodding and smiling at people he’d met before. Jasper identified three of Magras’s men. No sign of the man himself.
“Champagne?” A waiter appeared with a tray of flutes.