The Protector of Ambra (Mercenaries of Fortune, #5) Read online

  But her faking it meant putting on a game face before applying for a business loan. He’d just taken down a man with ruthless efficiency, after returning her luggage from a moving vehicle.

  And she didn’t forget what she had seen on the flight too. He’d been helpful and kind and well. She couldn’t make him out.

  It was impossible for the feeling to be mutual. The man knew everything about her with a scan of her face. The proof of his words was in her hand. Technology like this wasn’t available to anybody. Or even every government agency. This guy had to be way up the food chain to have something like this at his disposal. She wiggled the phone in front of her. “How do you have access to all this information?”

  Pierce snatched the phone away and slid it inside his jacket pocket. “You have to know that I can’t share that with you. The bigger question is, why are you here?”

  “Your magical phone can’t read my thoughts? Don’t answer that. I don’t need any more bad news.”

  “Your purse is gone,” Pierce said with a nod.

  “You noticed that too?”

  “It’s my job to notice things. C’mon, let’s get you to a hotel.”

  It wasn’t such a long walk from where they were. She’d been mugged on these streets, but also protected on them by the man walking beside her. His presence removed the sketch from an otherwise frightening situation. And because the yellow-haired Clark Kent was here, guiding her – even pulling her luggage – her mind wandered again to her personal doubts. She’d been in the country for less than an hour and already her plans had blown up in her face. The last few minutes left her effectively stuck in the country. “I know, in theory, that I should be able to get a new passport. I need you to tell me it’ll be an easy process. Lie if you have to.”

  “Of course it is. You’ll be fine. Tell you what. I’ll have you out of here flying first class. You deserve it after your evening. But...”

  She’d already started crafting her dream of what the golden streets of first class might look like, before his strained “but,” kicked its way through. “Yes?”

  “My mission has to come first. Besides, going through all the formal channels takes time. It’ll be much easier to take the accelerated route. That means, however, you staying in town while I finish up some things. I’ll come back and get you out of here.”

  “Some things? Secret things?”

  “Yes.”

  “Important things?”

  He nodded.

  “That won’t work for me.”

  His eyebrow quirked up in open amusement. “That wasn’t one of the options. I didn’t really give options. Okay, I’ll put you in a taxi for the nearest consulate and make some phone calls when I get back. Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”

  “Can’t do that either.”

  Pierce stopped, tapping his finger against his lips. “So, option one, then. Question. Why exactly are you here again? Perhaps if you tell me this secret mission of yours and yes, I get the hypocrisy, but...” His hands clawed the air, urging her on.

  She didn’t have anything to lose by telling him the truth. Given his powerful connections, whatever they were, he might even be able to help. Despite her best efforts, he’d been nothing but helpful since they’d met.

  Melody put one foot in front of the other and laid it all out on the line. Her chin was darn near melting into her chest. There was nothing as humiliating as asking for help. Only two things would ever make her do it. Her family and her career. This trip impacted both. “It has to do with my business.”

  “You’re a baker.”

  “Chocolatier.”

  “Got it,” he said with a dimpled smirk. His bottom lip quivered, but he nodded appreciatively. “And your situation?”

  “It’s the chocolate.”

  “You have a chocolate situation?”

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  “Not at all,” he said, behind a half opened fist.

  “Good. I pay top dollar for fair trade chocolate. I get it directly from the source. Well, not directly. Obviously via a distributor. That’s not the point. That point is that Sweet Happiness Chocolate Haus is good from the inside out. It’s not just branding, it’s what I believe in. It’s who I am.”

  He grinned, but she wasn’t afraid or ashamed of her passion and kept right on going. “I want to be the owner of a world dominating chocolate company. One built on love, kindness, rainbows and all that other good stuff. I’ve dedicated everything to this. As part of the agreement with my distributer, a percentage of profit goes back to the community, but the numbers just aren’t adding up. Something’s off. Plus, the taste of the chocolate has changed. The quality isn’t there anymore. I think my guy down here is ripping me off.”

  “So why not go to the police?”

  “I’ve tried. Twice. It’s too small a case for anyone to be concerned about. Who cares if another small business goes under? Or if poor people in another country get screwed? Tell me I’m wrong.”

  His pursed lips said that he couldn’t. Pierce’s eyes narrowed and he stared at her as if solving some impossible math problem. Good. He should know he wasn’t the only hero around here. Dollars to doughnuts, she rocked the cape a little harder than he did. The man had a team and government backing.

  She was doing this all on her own. As far as righteous qualities went, she matched him blow for blow. When counting raw talent in this field, however, the point had to go to him. He’d saved the lady on the plane and now her. The dude was two for two. She’d be the dumbest person alive if she didn’t try to exploit that. “Pierce, buddy,” she said, slapping her hand across his arm. “You’re noble.”

  Pierce’s magazine-white teeth blared against his tanned skin. “I already said I’d help, but go on. This sounds like it’s going to be good.”

  “Hear me out. Pretend that ‘no’ is not an option.”

  “Wow.”

  “I’m just saying that since you work for the government and I’m an American citizen in distress, you’re kinda obligated to help me and others. I told you what I do. How many people are helped by my tiny business? Those people and their families...” She paused for the most dramatic headshake on Earth. “Think of the children.”

  “Yours?”

  “No. Ours,” she said, swinging her arm away from her chest. “All the kids of those workers in the fields who are benefiting from the increased incomes from Sweet Happiness—”

  “Chocolate Haus. Yeah, got it,” Pierce said, stopping again and crossing his arms. He sighed into his fist and appeared as though he were in the middle of the craziest argument with himself.

  “You’re thinking about it. Good. Let the guilt get real deep in that noble brain of yours.”

  “Oh my God.”

  She wasn’t just blowing smoke up his butt, though it was likely working. She was right. Her work was good. It was beneficial to her. It was beneficial to the farmers. Anyone shady enough to steal money from that ought to get punched in the kidneys. Melody sized up Pierce’s fist and smiled at her good judgment. He looked like the kidney punching type. “Pierce?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I can’t waste time staying in a hotel while bad things are happening to people and to my money. If there’s solid proof here of something dirty, I need to find it. The evidence I need to nail the bastard to the wall is in the jungle. You’re going to take me there.”

  “And we’re supposed to magically find...what? A compound? A business office?”

  She dug in her heels, refusing to back down. “You took a picture of my face and discovered my life. You could find freaking Brigadoon on that phone if you wanted to. Plus, I have the address. It’s in that phone you saved,” she said, sucking her teeth with a loud smack. “Unless you want to hurt the little children.”

  “Enough. I’ll help.”

  “Doesn’t it feel good to do the right thing?”

  “Not really,” he said, with his head rolled back and his eyes closed. “It feels a lo
t like unemployment.”

  Chapter Three

  Pierce waited in the jeep they’d rented while Melody leaned against the hood and called her credit card companies. Plenty of other people would have been in hysterics over what she’d gone through. The woman was tough. He liked her, though he had no good reason to tell her the truth that his heroic government job had very little to do with the government.

  Or heroism.

  This noble quest of his involved breaking into a monastery and stealing a priceless artifact. Well, not totally priceless. Therein lay the rub. To raise funds for the parish, local monks were selling off some Olmec pieces. The treasures had been property of the church since the days of the conquistadors and before then, in the hands of the Maya. Now they were on the auctioning block.

  Pierce had to get them. One of them anyway.

  The Knights of Ambra had very rigid rules about their work. His organization did whatever was necessary to save cultural treasures. They’d kept Sassanid vases and Greek triremes safe in their warehouses, while returning lost royal jewels and Fifth Century books to the descendants of former owners. It was a dignified livelihood and a harsh one. It was why so many of his teammates were former military or intelligence.

  And then there was him. He’d left his life of luxury and joined the Navy to help others. Then some terrorist bastard had left him with a near worthless knee. The injury resulted in a medical drop from the front lines.

  He’d recovered after countless surgeries, but the pain would always be there, along with a note that he’d been relegated to working back in the States. He’d done it. It was his duty. But when his former colleague, Checkers Storm, said she knew of an opening that might give him a taste of adventure again, he’d jumped...and landed right here with Team Ambra.

  It was a hell of a thing. A good thing. But ultimately, a thing not too different from what he’d left in the Navy. He was still, essentially, on shore duty. Every so often, he’d have to fly out to patch up an agent in a Chilean cave, but those excursions paled in comparison to what the others got to do.

  He wasn’t swinging from suspension bridges in Madagascar or fighting Chinese smugglers in Bhutan. He was just...doctoring. A good life, but not as adventurous as he would have liked. The only thing that gave him joy these days was his collection.

  The knights on the team were as different as night and day, but one thing they all had in common was a love of history. It manifested itself in varying forms for all of them. For Pierce, it was medical antiques. His personal collection was freaking amazing. Everything from Civil War surgical kits to papyrus with doctors’ notes found in Egyptian pyramids.

  But this prize in Mexico? Cool as shit.

  One of the antiques up for auction was a 700ish BCE statuette of an Olmec healer. It was one of the earliest representations of practicing medicine. He had to own it. At the announcement of the auctions, he’d booked his flight. Then Checkers, the only other team physician, went on her lark to Macedonia. He’d been forced to follow Ambra’s house rules and cancel his trip.

  And that led him here. He’d tried buying it outright before the bidding started, but the monks shut that down pretty fast. The next logical thing for him to do was steal it.

  It would be his first time burglarizing a church. Hopefully his last. He gave a shit about his mortal soul and he was definitely going to make it right. At auction, the piece might fetch fifty or eighty grand. Pierce had a million dollars sitting in escrow, anonymously, to be delivered once he and the statuette were safely on the way home to Massachusetts.

  If he auctioned like everyone else, he risked being discovered away from his post by his superiors. It wasn’t worth the possibility. Without the Navy, there was Ambra. Without Ambra, there was nothing at all.

  His plan would have gone perfectly, if not for the beauty trudging back towards the passenger’s door.

  The woman who had every possibility of ruining everything, slipped into the bucket seat. “Everyone’s been called. Everything’s on hold. Mama and Angela – that’s my sister – are holding everything down.” Then her nose scrunched up. “I bet you already knew Angie’s name.”

  “Yeah...”

  Melody shivered and rolled her eyes. “So, I’m ready. You? Time to save the world,” she said, high-fiving herself against the window.

  Time to save his ass. And hers. If not for the same drive to protect that had put him in the military, he would have left her on the street. But he couldn’t ignore her or those damned children she’d thrown in his face. “Your guilt game is way strong.”

  “Irish grandmother. I’ve had a lifetime of practice. She came to a new country with nothing but the money in her pocket and started a new life. She met a stranger, fell in love and...” She cleared her throat and snapped her seat belt into place. “We should go.”

  *****

  Melody sunk as far back into her seat as physics would allow. She sure as crap wasn’t projecting her grandparents’ love story onto this massive toss-up she was in. “What I meant to say...”

  “Was that your grandmother lorded her awesomeness over you. I get it. It’s sweet. That’s what grandmothers should do. Now, you’ll have your own adventure to throw back at her. There’s nothing better than that. Is she still around?”

  She hummed deep in her throat, unable to keep the smile from her face. “That lady’s got a permanent seat in the corner of my shop. She’s probably yelling at Mama about the temperature right now.”

  Two of Pierce’s long fingers circled the air, insisting she keep talking. She did. Droning on about the perils of three generations of tough Irish women inhabiting the same space. His chuckles every few minutes backhanded away the awkwardness from a few moments ago.

  She was a great businesswoman, but the worst judge of character. Her face reddened at her jumping out of a moving car to get away from this man. A smarter woman would have clung to him like an 80s romance novel cover.

  He stopped the car a few minutes later, saving her from turning into a complete teenager. “Did you get a chance to eat something? Depending on how long things,” he looked away and wiped dust from the dashboard, “take, it may be some time before you have a proper meal. This might be our last chance at a real restaurant. Once this is over, we’ll probably need to head straight back to the airport. Seems like we both have big boy and big girl problems to take care of back home.”

  “I can manage.”

  He didn’t look like he believed her. He latched his hands behind his neck and dipped back against the headrest. “Grandmothers are good at spotting liars. So is my boss. If someone asks what we were up to in Mexico, we can safely say that we were on a dinner date. That ought to give Granny a run for her money.”

  Forget Grandma. Her mind was doing its own running and hop-skipping around. She reminded herself that this was a man showing a kindness. Nothing more. The guy was Prince Charming on steroids. He was the kind of guy that, in the real world, might have distracted her from her business.

  Melody wrapped her head around that thought and held on as tightly as she could. Vacation romances were best kept to 50s movies. He was taking time out of his mission to help her. While she appreciated it, Pierce made it very clear that anything having to do with her was secondary to his career. She more than respected that. She needed to copy it.

  The easiest step was reminding herself that love at first sight didn’t exist. Not anymore. What she was probably experiencing was like at third sight and that was pretty cool, but cool didn’t pay her bills. Coolness would be bringing Noah to his knees, destroying his “business,” and leaving him a crying, hollow husk of his former self.

  “Melody?”

  “Hmm?”

  “That’s the widest smile I’ve seen since the last time I went to Vegas. Thinking about Grandma?”

  “Revenge,” she said with a quick nod. “And food. I’ll take you up on that offer. Maybe not a sit-down thing, though. It’ll slow us down. We’ve both got work to do.”

>   His shoulders sagged. Probably in relief. That knowledge was reaffirming as hell. Yes, he could chase down thieves, speak the language and probably do a billion other things while riding a unicycle, but she won in the keeping-her-eyes-on-the-prize game. He had and might continue to derail things, ever so slightly, for her. She wouldn’t let him make those mistakes.

  He hopped out of the car first, but before he made it over to get her door, she jumped out. He didn’t say anything about her overt rudeness. The best she could hope for was that he saw it as professionalism. Nothing wrong with that.

  Pierce stepped inside the restaurant first, shoving his sunglasses on top of his head. “What do you want for dinner?”

  “I don’t love Mexican food. Maybe nachos? This isn’t a meal to me. It’s about sustenance and having enough calories to keep moving.”

  “I accept that challenge,” Pierce said with a snap of his fingers. He went on to order who knew what, speaking amiably with the waitress behind the counter.

  And she didn’t like that either. Jealousy was too stupid of a word for a man she’d just met. He wasn’t her hero, but it did weird things to her to see him making some other woman smile. She excused herself to the restroom.

  By the time she came back, their food was bundled and wrapped. Three liters of water were put on the counter, along with a slip of paper. Melody knew a thing or two about transactions. Typically, they ran in a certain order. Money went from the client to the seller. The seller then returns a receipt or change. The end. After Pierce’s predictable step of pushing away the extra change, the waitress scribbled on a sheet of paper and slid it across the counter.

  This guy – saving lives and getting digits. At the end of the day, Prince Charming was still a dude.

  “You don’t do a good job of hiding your emotions,” he said on the way to the car.

  “What are you talking about?” She desperately tried to keep her tone as even as possible. Her face burned a little, then a lot. Getting inside the car was a small relief. Any situation that involved him not directly looking at her was a win.