Flawless Danger (The Spencer & Sione #1) (9 page)

“I stabbed you because I thought you were trying to kill me!”

“Why would I try to kill you?” Ben asked. “How could you think I would ever hurt you? Did I ever put my hands on you? Did I ever raise my fist at you?”

“I was scared and confused that night,” she said, guilt and shame making her defensive. “And I had …”

“You had stolen my money,” he said. “And my Rolex watches.”

“I thought you had seen me taking the money,” she said, sitting on the settee at the foot of the bed. “I thought you were coming after me.”

“I was after the man who had broken into my home.”

“The guy with the snake tattoo on his face,” she said.

“He came into my home to take something away from me,” Ben said. “Something very valuable. I couldn’t let him do that.”

“What was he trying to take from you?”

Silence. Again, the familiar abrupt absence of sound made her uneasy, apprehensive.

“Ben …?” Spencer cursed and then asked, “Are you still on the—”

“So, I need you to do
Part One
of the side venture this coming Saturday,” Ben said. “And don’t worry about getting into trouble, sweet girl. If you follow my instructions, there shouldn’t be any problems.”

San Ignacio, Belize

Belizean Banyan Resort – Owner’s Casita

“Ms. Edwards.” Sione Tuiali’i stared down at her. “How are you?”

Spencer was speechless. The last time she’d seen the resort owner had been days ago, when she’d stormed into his office to get the package Ben had shipped to her.

Mr. Tuiali’i looked even more delicious than she remembered, wearing nothing but a strange sarong with geometric patterns. Her mouth watered as she stared at his muscles, mesmerized. His broad shoulders, pecs, and arms were huge and exquisitely formed beneath the creamy, brown sugar skin, which was decorated with a plethora of what looked to her like tribal markings.

The tattoos formed strange swirls and whorls across his pecs and eight-pack abs, then moved up to his neck and left shoulder, before traveling in loops and twirls down his left arm, past his elbow to his wrist.

“Ms. Edwards?”
 

Snap the hell out of it, Spencer.
There was no reason to lose her cool. He’d been gorgeous when she first met him, and he was still gorgeous. There was no reason to get so worked up over the way he looked. She didn’t have time to drool. She needed to lay more groundwork for getting
Step Two
completed.

The “side venture” was days away, and as pissed as Spencer was about having to do it, she realized there was a silver lining in the situation. The banker’s box gave her the perfect excuse to see the resort owner. Spencer figured there was no need to let the next few days go to waste, and she’d come up with a plan to start getting close to him. But not too close.

“Mr. Tuiali’i,” Spencer started and then stopped, trying to get her thoughts together.

“Sione.”

“Huh?”

“You can call me Sione.” He leaned against the doorframe of his house.

“Sione.” Spencer cleared her throat and then looked to the left, where a riot of purple and pink hibiscus bushes hung over the wooden railing around the porch. “That’s an interesting name. I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before I met you.”

“It’s Tongan,” he said. “Means John.”

“Sione is how you say John in Tongan,” she said. “So, you’re Tongan.”

“Half,” he said. “My father is from Tonga, my mom is from Belize.”

Spencer nodded, not sure what to say, trying to remember why she was there.

“What can I help you with?”

Involuntarily, her gaze dropped to his waist and even lower.

“Ms. Edwards?” he prompted.

She lifted her head. There was a trace of a smile on his lips, with just enough mischief to let her know he’d seen the direction of her gaze.

“I don’t mean to bother you. The front desk attendant told me you were working at your casita today, and I just needed to ask you …” Spencer stopped and exhaled, trying to remember the lie she’d come up with, the excuse to see him.

She’d spent all last night coming up with the ruse, going over it again and again, testing it for faults and flaws. She should know her lines by now. There could be no stuttering and stammering. She couldn’t arouse his suspicions before she even got started with the scheme.

Clearing her throat, Spencer continued, “It’s about that banker’s box I received.”

With a sigh, Sione said, “Why don’t you come in?”

Spencer didn’t know whether to be relieved or ashamed. She didn’t like the idea of tricking her way into the resort owner’s casita, but the goal had been to get invited inside. An invitation into his casita could not be interpreted as a sign of his willingness to let her get close to him. She couldn’t take anything for granted. His hospitality didn’t mean he was interested.

Parading in front of a man wearing a clingy dress with her boobs spilling out all over the place might entice him. Rae had taught her lots of clichéd seductive techniques, provocative contrivances that usually worked. On old geezers, at least.

Spencer had never tried those tricks on someone like Sione, who was so good-looking that he left her feeling flustered and uneasy. Geriatric fools responded to batting eyelashes, but the resort owner might see right through her deception. He might even get suspicious and think she was up to something.

Sione led her into the kitchen, then walked to a large marble-top island, and leaned against the rounded edge.

“Now, Ms. Edwards, what did you want to tell me about the package you got?”

“Oh, um …” she started, reluctant to get on with the business of lying to him, wishing she didn’t have to.

Staring down at her, he folded his arms across his chest, a move that made his muscles contract. Spencer gazed at him, wondering why he was so damn distracting. She’d seen handsome, well-built men before, and they’d never had this effect on her, leaving her dumbfounded.

She didn’t have time to get lost in his hazel eyes. She had to get on with laying more groundwork for
Step Two
, and yet she was hesitant to start her scam. There was no way to know if her plan to get close to him would work, but she had to try.

Spencer exhaled, taking a few steps toward the island, going over her plan, which would accomplish two objectives. It was simple, really. She would tell the resort owner the wrong box had been delivered to her. With a tone of frustration and anger, she would give him a story about opening the box and being shocked to find boxes of Xanax.

Xanax? Xanax!

She would shift the blame to him, declaring the delivery of the wrong box to be another example of his staff’s deplorable inability to provide even the most basic customer service. She would hold him responsible and threaten to sue the resort.

Of course, the resort owner would want to make amends. He would probably ask what he could do to come to some kind of rapprochement. And Spencer would tell him she would be willing to come up with an amicable solution to the problem.

Over dinner, perhaps?

No, maybe dinner would be pushing her luck. Drinks? Maybe coffee, or—

“Ms. Edwards?”

Spencer took a quick, deep breath, trying to stay focused on her scam, and said, “The wrong box was delivered to me.”

Eyes narrowed, he stared at her and then said, “It was?”

Nodding, she said, “I was expecting training manuals. That box was full of … Xanax.”

San Ignacio, Belize

Belizean Banyan Resort – Owner’s Casita

Sione hesitated, staring down at Ms. Edwards and then said, “I know.”

“You knew the wrong box had been delivered to me?” She glared at him. “How the hell would you know that? You said you hadn’t looked in the box, but that wasn’t true. You lied to me, didn’t you?”

Confused and suspicious, Sione tried to process what she was saying, not sure what to think. He’d thought she’d been expecting the shipment. But now she was giving him some story about training manuals?

What the hell was she up to, he wondered.

The past few days, Sione had thought a lot about what he’d found inside that banker’s box and he hadn’t come up with any solid conclusions. He suspected Ms. Edwards might be up to something criminal—or maybe not.

“Are you going to answer me anytime soon?” Ms. Edwards demanded, arms crossed in a way that enhanced her already over-exaggerated cleavage, which he appreciated, though it might have been a bit much so early in the day. “Why didn’t you tell me the wrong box had been delivered? Did you think I wouldn’t know the difference between training manuals and Xanax?”

“I didn’t know the wrong box had been delivered to you.” Sione shook his head and then said, “When I said, ‘I know,’ I meant that I knew there was Xanax in the box because I looked in it. I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m sorry.”

“Why did you lie and say you hadn’t looked inside the box?” Ms. Edwards asked.

Sione stared at her, trying to get his thoughts together, which was proving to be more difficult than it should have been. Ms. Edwards was very distracting, especially wearing a tan-colored dress made of material that hugged her curves in all sorts of suggestive and enticing ways.

Sione cleared his throat and said, “I thought you might feel awkward or embarrassed if you knew that I knew you were taking anti-anxiety medication.”

She frowned, but the furrow between her brows didn’t distract from her good looks. “You know, Mr. Tuiali’i, I just might have to pop one of those pills because I am feeling very anxious right now, and do you know why? Because my damn manuals are missing!”

“I’ll have my secretary track down the delivery driver,” he said, though he was still suspicious of her, still not sure she really had been expecting to find training manuals in that bankers box.

“And what if she doesn’t find the delivery guy?”

“Marie has lots of contacts,” he said. “I’m sure she’ll figure out what happened to your box.”

“Somebody better find my damn box,” she warned. “Those manuals contain classified information, and if they end up in the wrong hands, I am going to sue this resort for—”

Three chirps, loud and insistent, interrupted her.

She gave him a gaze that was furious, sultry, and a bit too arousing, considering the current situation. Sione grabbed the phone and stared at the screen. His heart pounded and he struggled to suppress the anger welling within him as he stared at the number. Guatemalan country code. His ex-fiancée.

He wasn’t surprised she was calling again even though he’d warned her not to. The last time he’d hung up on her, she’d threatened to call him and worry the hell out of him until he agreed to persuade his father not to kill her. She was still trying to make him believe Richard wanted her dead.

Sione knew better than to believe her. And yet, part of him wondered, what if she was telling him the truth. What if Richard had really threatened to kill her?

Three more chirps cut into his thoughts.

They sounded louder, somehow, as relentless and insistent as his ex-fiancée.

“Are you going to answer it?” Ms. Edwards asked.

“It’s not someone I’m interested in talking to right now.”

“An old girlfriend?”

“Something like that.”

“She just can’t get over you?”

“No, she’s over me,” he said. “She just …”

“What?”

“I told her I would help her with something,” he said. “But I didn’t do it, and she’s not going to let me forget that I let her down. She keeps reminding me that I broke my promise to her.”

“What were you going to help her with?” Ms. Edwards asked. “What was the promise you broke?”

“Ms. Edwards,” he said, anxious to get off the subject, embarrassed that he’d opened up to her about his ex. “I really need to deal with some administrative issues, so—”

“Forget the damn administrative issues. We need to solve this situation with my missing training manuals,” she said. “So, I was thinking—”

“I’ll talk to the rest of my staff,” he said. “They may know something about who delivered the box.”

“Are you going to talk to your staff today?”

“I’ll get back to you about that,” he said.
 

“When will you get back to me?”

“Soon,” he said. “Do you mind seeing yourself out?”

Glaring at him, she pivoted and strutted out of the kitchen.

What was that old saying?
Hate to see you leave, but love to watch you go.
Sione sighed, dragging a hand down his jaw. His ex had him so pissed, he could hardly think straight. It was probably good Ms. Edwards had left. He might have told her he hadn’t just opened the banker’s box, but he’d also looked
inside
those boxes of Xanax and was aware of their true contents.

If Ms. Edwards was lying about those manuals, then Sione didn’t want her to know what he’d discovered before his cousin, David “D.J.” Jones could do a bit of investigating. As the owner of a security firm that specialized in criminal investigation, D.J. was the best person to find out why Ms. Edwards was really in Belize. D.J. had been eager to help when Sione had called him and explained the situation. A little too eager, actually.

Sione wondered if his cousin had been anxious to come home because he missed the family or if he was anxious to get away from New York and the problems with his wife. Whatever the reason, Sione would be glad to see D.J. and get his professional assistance and advice.

His cousin would be landing in Belize City today, in the next three or four hours, and would be able to get started with the investigation almost immediately.

San Ignacio, Belize

Belizean Banyan Resort – Owner’s Casita

“You know the whole story,” Sione said. “What do you think is going on?” Anxious, Sione stared at D.J., waiting for his cousin’s assessment of the situation.

Reclining on one of the lounges in the large outdoor patio behind the owner’s casita, David Jones stared at the label on the longneck beer bottle.

D.J. had arrived three hours ago, as the sun was setting. After getting settled in one of the few vacant casitas, he’d joined Sione on the terrace of the owner’s casita for a beer and to find out more about the situation with the “Xanax” Sione had found in the box delivered to Spencer Edwards.