Chapter 2
ETHAN
I regretted the name I’d chosen for this op. Nathan was too similar to my real one, which I’d assumed would make it easier, but every time she uttered my cover’s name, my teeth clenched so tightly my jaw was in danger of splitting.
Captain Olivia Wallace. This job was hard enough. I didn’t need this distraction added in.
I sat motionless on the ride back to the lodge, not wanting to draw attention as I’d been trained to do. Fade all six-foot-seven-inches of myself into nothing. I’d been watching Giovanni’s phone screen but hadn’t seen anything of interest.
My gut said a deal was in the works. Not tonight, but soon.
There wasn’t a chance in hell Giovanni had come here for safari alone.
Hendrix, my field director, agreed, and as soon as the CIA caught wind of Giovanni’s travel plans, we’d moved quickly.
Drugging his usual bodyguard had been the fastest way to get me in.
My mission directives were clear. Get close to the Abramos and turn Giovanni by any means necessary, with the ultimate goal of gathering intel on his father, Vitale. I’d been working the case for five months, but the proof connecting the family to the Serbian terrorist cell had so far eluded me.
The situation with Constantine Abramo made it ten times worse. The youngest of Vitale’s sons had been the most pliable, and the CIA’s original target for acquisition, but I’d taken that option off the table.
My head ached with exhaustion, and every bump that rocked the vehicle aggravated the throbbing. Jesus, what I’d give to sleep for a week.
I squashed the thought. It didn’t matter how tired I was. The Abramos were too great a danger to deal with whenever it was convenient. The threat had to be handled now.
“Tell her,” Giovanni said, “that I’m going to rest before dinner. I’ll have someone let her know when to meet us at the lodge.”
Great. I translated to Olivia, and as I’d expected, there was displeasure in her green eyes at the subtle demand.
Annoyance rose hot within me, but it was self-directed.
Giovanni hadn’t been all that interested in his female pilot, not until the second leg of the flight down to South Africa, when I’d let it slip that I thought she was beautiful.
That was a misstep.
But when I’d pulled Giovanni and his wandering hands off her, that had been a big mistake. It lit the fuse on his interest. The evil little Italian loved to take away what other people desired.
And, shit, I wanted Olivia.
I was doing everything in my power to hide it and failing miserably. I’d almost hoped during our tense lunch conversation that she was deeply involved with the Abramos. Just as crooked and cruel and self-serving. That would have shut down the unwanted feelings in me, cold.
But she hardly knew anything about the family’s activities. Only enough to understand that walking away mid-contract was a bad idea.
I had set her in Giovanni’s sights, which was a terrible place to be. People had a habit of disappearing after spending time with Giovanni Abramo.
Especially women as beautiful as her.