Sky's Lark Read Online Free Page B

those hours when he closed his eyes. Along with the magnificent body came attitude, courage, and fearlessness. The way she had stood up to him when he'd first approached impressed him equally, if not more so than her looks. Most women would have cowered, begged, or struggled in between bouts of panic. Not her. Not his dove. No, she'd rolled her eyes and acted as if he merely interfered in her plans, the inconvenience irritating and annoying, like being served cold eggs for breakfast.
    Perhaps she did work for the DEA. It would certainly explain a few things. A woman comfortable with her handgun and well versed in self-defense as required by the federal program would carry herself with confidence, knowing she could take care of herself against one lone mugger or street criminal.
    He glanced down at the paper in his hand, a picture taken from a casino security camera. There his dove stood, in clear black and white, sidling up to Santora, wearing the same clothing he found her in last night. Not that anything surprised him these days, but his internal radar binged loudly, clearly finding more than one issue amiss.
    During the pickup a few hours ago, the very photo he now clutched came down from their distributor with a message supposedly from Santora himself. The drug lord wanted the woman, wanted her bad if the bounty he placed on her delivery to him alive meant anything. Even the richest men in the world wouldn't offer up a fortune to his followers in order to bring him one lady, except for personal reasons deeper than hurt feelings over a broken relationship. Women came and went in the lives of the rich and famous, but when a man demanded she be returned alive, it spoke of fury, wrath, and a horrific end to a woman's life.
    If she truly belonged to the DEA, Santora would more than likely hire an assassin, take her out from afar, bomb her Mustang, even burn down her apartment building. For a former love interest, a simple threat of torturous death should be enough to send her running to never show her face in the vicinity again. So, what was she to him that he would give up huge profits for her return?
    Stuffing the picture back into his shirt pocket, he searched for the elusive answer to no avail. He hated mysteries that evaded him for the fact they meant certain death unless he beat another to the puzzle piece, grasping the whole picture and preserving humanity in the process. Unless he missed his guess, this would be another example. Figure out why Santora wanted the girl and fast before the demons from hell showed up on her doorstep, all battling to drag her to the boss man and earn riches in reward.
    He had to warn her, but do so in such a way that didn't give himself away or produce any ties between him and her that could be sniffed out by one of Santora's gophers, and ensure his continued undercover mission stayed afloat. The hush-hush nature of his assignment deterred him from calling anyone to personally catch up with the energetic filly and relay a message. He dared not search for a phone number, which could be easily traced if someone hacked into his cell phone. Hell, Rodriguez might already capture his cell phone records and pour over each number with a magnifying glass to ensure everything proved legit. If he tried to hang out around her apartment to wait on her reappearance, the guys might take further notice of her, putting two and two together. She didn't need the increased attention from them. Besides, if he did find her and spit out a warning, why would she believe him?
    Scrubbing a hand over his face, he forced his tired brain to think. He could sneak into her apartment and leave a note, but such an idea came with risks. If any of the other guys made her, they might break in, find his note, and he would end up floating in the river before dawn. On the other hand, it remained the best suggestion.
    Maybe he could hide the note. That would certainly work, but how would he make sure she looked in the exact spot