Diana Palmer Collected 1-6: Soldier of Fortune / Tender Stranger / Enamored / Mystery Man / Rawhide and Lace / Unlikely Lover

“I see.” Laremos’s dark eyes narrowed and he laughed. “Trust still comes hard to you, eh? You will never forget that one time that I let my mind wander…”

“No hard feelings,” J.D. said quietly. “But Gabby runs the set.”

Laremos nodded. “I understand. And I take no offense. My conscience still nags me about that lapse.”

“Will somebody tell me, please, what’s going on?” Gabby asked when she could stand it no longer.

“I’ve gotten together a group to get Martina out,” J.D. said patiently. “That’s all you need to know.”

“The mercs! They’re already here?”

“Yes,” he murmured, watching her with a tiny smile on his face.

“Ah, I think the line of work of our amigos fascinates this one.” Laremos grinned handsomely.

“Can I actually talk to them?” Gabby said, persisting, all eyes and curiosity. “Oh, J.D., imagine belonging to a group like that, going all over the world to fight for freedom.”

“A lot of them do it for less noble reasons, Gabby,” he said, searching her face with an odd intensity. “And you may be disappointed if you’re expecting a band of Hollywood movie stars. There’s nothing glamorous about killing people.”

“Killing…people?”

“What in God’s name did you think they did, turn water hoses on the enemy?” he asked incredulously. “Gabby, in war men kill each other. In ways you wouldn’t like to know about.”

“Well, yes, I realize that.” She frowned. “But it’s a very dangerous way to live, it’s…” She stopped and searched for words. “Before I came to work for you I lived a quiet, kind of dull life, J.D.,” she said, trying to explain. “Sometimes I thought that I’d probably never do anything more exciting than washing clothes at the Laundromat. Those men…they’ve faced death. They’ve learned the limits of their courage, they’ve tested themselves until the secrets are all gone.” She looked up. “I don’t suppose it makes sense, but I think I envy them in a way. They’ve taken all the veneer off civilization and come away with the reality of what they are. In a terrible way, they’ve seen the face of life without the mask. I never will. I don’t think I really want to. But I’m curious about people who have.”

He brushed the hair back from her face with a gentle hand. “When you see First Shirt, you won’t have to ask questions. You’ll be able to read the answers in his face. Won’t she, Laremos?”

“But indeed.” He chuckled.

“Is he a friend of yours?” she asked J.D.

He nodded. “One of the best I ever had.”

“When you were in the Special Forces?” she asked.

He turned away. “Of course.” He glanced at Laremos, and they exchanged a level gaze that Gabby didn’t understand.

“You didn’t want mines, did you?” Laremos asked suddenly.

“No. The RPGs will be enough, and Drago can jury-rig a mine if he has to. I want to get in and get out fast.”

“The rainy season hasn’t started, at least,” Laremos said. “That will be a bonus.”

“Yes, it will. Have you still got my crossbow?”

“Above the mantel in my study.” Laremos smiled. “It is a conversation piece.”

“To hell with that, does it still work?”

“Yes.”

“A crossbow?” Gabby laughed. “Is it an antique?”

J.D. shook his head. “Not quite.”

“Is it easier to shoot than a bow and arrow?” she asked, pursuing the subject.

He looked uncomfortable. “It’s just a memento,” he said. “Gabby, did you pack some jeans and comfortable shoes?”

“Yes, as you saw in Italy.” She sighed, beginning to feel uneasy. “How long will we be here?”

“Probably no more than three days, if things go well,” he replied. “We need a little time to scout the area and make a plan.”

“The hospitality of my finca is at your disposal,” Laremos said. “Perhaps we might even make time to show Gabby some of the Maya ruins.”

Her eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Don’t mention archaeological ruins around her, please,” J.D. muttered. “She goes crazy.”

“Well, I like old things,” she retorted. “Why else would I work for you?”

J.D. looked shocked. “Me? Old?”

She studied his face. It wasn’t heavily lined, but there was a lot of silver at his temples mingling with his black hair. She frowned. She’d always assumed he was pushing forty, but now she wondered.

“How old are you, J.D.?” she asked.

“Thirty-six.”

She gasped.

“Not what you expected?” he asked softly.

“You…seem older.”

He nodded. “I imagine so. I’ve got thirteen years on you.”

“You needn’t sound so smug,” she told him. “When I’m fifty, you’ll hate those extra thirteen years.”

“Think so?” he murmured, smiling.

She glanced away from that predatory look. “Tell me about Guatemala, Señor Laremos.”

“Diego, please,” he said, correcting her. “What would you like to know?”

“Anything.”

He shrugged. “Things have been better since the peace agreement in ’96 and the increase in foreign trade, but the people are still poor and the crime high. Guatemala has become a major transport route for drugs and human smuggling, which has not earned us a good reputation on the international stage.”