men in charge of kayak rentals probably wouldn’t bat an eye if Stefano pulled out a gun, shot Zan and me on the spot, and buried our bodies in a shallow, sandy grave.
But whether it’s because Beatrice is here, or he has some other agenda, Stefano hasn’t reached for the slim weapon clipped to his belt. And he has no idea that the boat we’re about to board is crewed by people loyal to Union Ten.
It isn’t a winning hand, but it’s an ace up our sleeve. As long as Zan, Beatrice, and I end up on that boat instead of back on the resort property, we have a shot of coming out of this on top.
I cling to the thought as I take Zan’s hand and nod toward the dock. “Shall we? I confess a day on the boat sounds like more fun than a waterfall excursion.”
“He hates hiking,” Zan says with an affectionate eye roll, the faint tremble in her fingers sending a tremor through mine.
I wish I’d had a chance to discover what she’s learned, but she was right not to text the information. Even our encrypted line isn’t one hundred percent secure.
“Oh, me, too,” Bea says with a laugh. “Especially around here. The bugs are so bad in the jungle. I end up with bites all over.”
“Because you’re so sweet. They can’t resist a nibble,” Stefano says, his arm snaking around her as we start toward the boat. He kisses her temple and squeezes her hip. “I know the feeling.”
Bea blushes and swats lightly at his chest. “Stop. We’re going to repulse Zan and Nick, and we’ll be back to doing things alone.” She adds in a confidential voice, “None of the other couples can stand us. They find our love nauseating.”
Zan laughs as she releases my hand and leads the way onto the dock, past the smaller boats to our day-trip sized vessel, chugging away in the second to last slip. The captain hasn’t turned off the engine, and two local men in tattered khakis and light blue polo shirts stand beside the docking lines, ready to free them at a moment’s notice.
I try to think of some way to signal that they should shove our unwanted company into the water before we board, but I don’t speak Balinese, and these men have no idea what kind of voyage they’ve been hired to crew. In accordance with Union Ten protocols, only the captain will be aware that we’re special customers, and even then, they won’t know the entire story, only that we’re important passengers with associates willing to spend boatloads of money to keep us out of trouble.
“That isn’t very charitable of them,” Zan tells Bea. “But don’t worry. Nick and I aren’t like that. We love love. The cheesier, the better. Right, Dimples?”
“Absolutely, Zanny Wanny.” I lift a hand to the two men by the ropes and start toward the gangplank from the dock to the boat’s main deck.
Alexandra groans behind me. “See? So cheesy. We’ll be nauseating you before the day’s over.”
I stop at the end of the gangway, extending a hand toward the boat as I meet Stefano’s gaze. “She’s right. Last chance to bail while we’re still on dry land.”
Stefano smiles, a hard curve of his lips that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Never. I’m looking forward to this.”
“Me, too,” Beatrice says, grinning a much sweeter grin. “I’m so glad we’ll all get to know each other better. It will make the wedding even more fun this summer.”
Beatrice starts aboard with Zan close behind her, chattering away about wedding venues and travel plans and insisting Zan and I should fly in a few days early so she can show us around Capri.
“After you,” I murmur to Stefano as he stops in front of me.
His dark eyes glitter with more pure, annoying-as-fuck smugness. “No, after you. I insist.”
God, I want to punch him in his stupid mouth. So much.
But I don’t.
I’m a law-abiding citizen. When I take Stefano into custody, I’ll do so with a clear recitation of his rights and firmly applied handcuffs.
Dammit, I really hope I can take him into custody today. If I don’t, I’ll likely never be this close to him again. It won’t be safe. If I want to remain alive, I’ll have to stay far away from Stefano and his people.
Once he has a chance to grass on me to other criminal organizations, my days of undercover work may be over for good.
Strangely, the thought doesn’t upset