Chapter 12 #3
“I was trying to protect you. To keep you from getting on that yacht.” His eye contact slipped again. “I had some stuff that induces vomiting. I wanted to make you too sick to sail the next day. If you’d waited, then the rival cartel’s plan would’ve been thwarted. I thought you might be safe.”
Kenzie stared at him, trying to process what he was saying.
The world slipped more off kilter. Even safe places like this restaurant no longer felt safe. It was like she was looking through smudged glasses. Everything she saw was just a little blurry, just a little wrong.
“That’s why I offered to buy you a drink.
Water wouldn’t work. The medicine isn’t tasteless.
I thought, if I slipped it into a margarita, you’d blame your nausea on the liquor and you’d never know.
” He looked up, sheepish, an expression she’d never seen on his face.
“It’s not like I was going to roofie you.
I wasn’t going to take advantage or anything. I was trying to keep you alive.”
“It’s not legal to drug people.”
“It’s not legal to smuggle cocaine, either, Kenzie.”
The words hit their mark, and she pressed against the back of her chair, needing space. Needing…she didn’t even know what.
Jaz’s sheepish look was gone. “I’m not going to apologize.”
He’d done more than save her from death. She could still see that disgusting pirate’s face when he’d called her a toy. A plaything.
“So I’m supposed to thank you?”
“Maybe just a little understanding.” Before she could reply, he changed characters, going from intense informant to casual tourist in a split second. He gazed up and smiled. “Those smell awesome.”
Emile set the fritters in the center of the table, then added a couple of sauces in plastic cups. He straightened, gave Kenzie a quick look, then walked away.
“It’s nice to know you’ve got people watching your back.”
Jaz’s remark seemed sincere. She wasn’t sure what to do with that.
“Let’s say I’d gotten sick. What if my crew had gone on without me?
” She kept her voice low. “Barn would’ve asked to take her, and I’d have checked with the client and probably given him the go-ahead.
He’s capable and experienced, and we had more than enough hands. ”
“Then they would’ve gone without you.”
“Would you have intervened?”
He looked away.
“That’s a no, right? So…so they would’ve been attacked, and if you hadn’t been there or called the authorities…”
The truth dawned in a flash.
“They would’ve died.”
He flinched. “I was trying to keep you safe.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you care? Why not just let events play out?”
His eyes darted around the patio like he was searching for escape routes, or maybe just searching for a lie that would satisfy her. This felt like the real Jasper, not the smooth liar he presented to Magras. She appreciated his authenticity, if nothing else.
“I need information from you,” Jaz said. “About your clients, your routes.”
“You could have just asked.”
“I was trying to maintain my cover.”
“You pretty much blew that cover when you showed up like some kind of superhero. Captain America swooping in to save the day.”
His lips quirked. “I remind you of Captain America, do I? Is it the face or the body, I wonder. Or maybe both?” He straightened and puffed out his chest a little.
There was that playboy smile, that easy deflection. But she wasn’t going to let him off the hook.
“You’re avoiding the question.”
The smile faded, his playfulness snuffed out like a candle. He picked up one of the fritters, then set it back down without taking a bite. “I do need information.”
“But?”
“I didn’t think you’d believe me.”
“You could’ve tried, you know. And anyway, why not just break into my apartment? You probably thought you could find my files. You could’ve tried.”
“I could’ve.”
“But?”
“You’re, you know. A woman.”
Kenzie blinked. “Wait. If I were a man, you’d have let me die?”
Like Barn, one of her most loyal crew members.
“Why is my life more valuable than Barn’s life? Or the rest of my crew. And what about Talia? She’s a woman. She’d have died.”
“I didn’t know about her. I thought your crew were all men.” Jaz looked away, muscles working beneath his stubbled jaw.
“Jaz—”
“I was raised to protect women and children.” His gaze held a challenge. “To protect the innocent. Is that so wrong?”
“You saw me as someone who needed protecting?”
“You did need protecting. You still do.” The intensity in his eyes startled her.
She could see it now, the chivalry bred into him.
This man… This was the most dangerous man she’d ever met.
Not to her physically, not like Magras or that terrible pirate or the one who must never be named, her own personal Voldemort.
But to her soul, to her heart, this man was more dangerous than all of them combined.
When he’d kissed her on that rooftop, for that brief moment, she’d felt protected. Even cherished.
Except that had been a performance, nothing more.
“As long as we’re asking hard questions,” he said, “how do you know my name?”
She was thrown by the change of subject. “What?”
“You’ve called me Jasper twice now. Once yesterday, when you first saw me after the attack, and again this morning.”
“So?”
“Everyone on this island knows me as Jaz. Most assume it’s a nickname, nothing to do with my real name.”
“It’s short for Jasper.”
“How do you know that? Only Magras and a few of his guards know my real name.”
“I could have guessed.”
His eyes narrowed as he studied her. “But you didn’t.”
He seemed genuine, though she wasn’t sure she believed it. “You really don’t know?”
Confusion flashed across his face, then frustration, bordering on anger.
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking.”
“Jaz—”
“If there’s information about me floating around, if my cover is compromised—“
“It’s not like that.”
“What’s it like, then? This is important.”
“We have a connection.”
His phone dinged, and she snapped her lips closed. There wasn’t time to explain right now, and the last thing she wanted to do was distract him from the job at hand.
He lifted the phone, then dropped enough cash on the table to pay for their lunches. “It’s Laguerre. The party started.”
She stood and aimed for the exit, but he grabbed her hand, and she turned back.
He stepped close, into her space, and held her eye contact. “Are you on my side, Kenzie?”
“What? Of course.”
“Tell me you didn’t know about the drugs.”
She tried to pull away, but he didn’t let go.
“You step back, sir!” Emile was coming to her rescue, which probably wouldn’t work out for the gray-haired server.
Jaz didn’t move, just watched her, playing the part of human lie detector.
She quit fighting. “I didn’t know. I’m not a drug smuggler. I’m not lying to you.”
“Who else knows who I am?”
“Nobody. Nobody on the island.”
He squinted, trying to translate that.
“I’m on your side, Jaz. And I trust that you’re on mine.”
“As long as you’re not an enemy, but if that changes—”
“I will call the police.” Emile was right beside him, gripping his upper arm. “You let her go.”
“It’s fine, Emile,” she said. “I’m fine.”
Jaz stepped back. “Sorry, sorry.” He looked at Emile and smiled. “She makes me crazy, but we’re good.”
Emile looked at her for confirmation, and she patted his arm. “Thank you. It’s good to know I’m safe with you.” She nodded to Jaz. “He’s okay, just needs a lesson in manners.”
“Well…” His gaze flicked between them. “D’accord.” Okay. “You be safe, Miss Kenzie.”
“I will.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “See you soon.”
She wore a casual, relaxed attitude, while inside her heart thumped. Did Jaz really doubt her? Think she was a drug dealer?
Would telling him the truth about how she knew him help or just make him angrier?
She’d have to tell him, but not now, not until this was over.
Jaz didn’t take her hand until they were on the street in front of the restaurant. They were halfway to the corner of the road that led to her apartment when they heard the crash.
The game was on.