Page 11 of Rebel Protector
He followed her up the few steps, a hulking presence behind her, keeping her on edge. Once inside, she pulled the string attached to the ceiling fan, and the slow blades began stirring the heavy, humid air.
"If you leave the patio doors open, there’s a nice breeze," she said, making idle conversation until she could regain her composure. "The kitchen is pretty basic, but if you need anything, just let me know."
He dropped his backpack on the floor with a loud thud. Startled, she flinched. He’d done that on purpose to unnerve her, she knew it.
"How do I reach you?"
She took a steadying breath. "You can call or text me. Here’s my card.”
"Becca Lyndall," he read, rumbling over the syllables. A shiver tingled down her spine.
"That’s me," she said, the words catching in her throat. "Okay, well, if there isn’t anything else?—"
He didn’t move, just stared at her, his intense presence seriously messing with her karma.
“If there is, I’ll let you know.” His unreadable gaze trailed after her as she stepped outside.
CHAPTER 5
“My man in Colombia has received the trial shipment,” Markov announced, breaking into a grin.
Ghost sat across from him, already knowing this from the message his own contact had sent him that morning. Miguel, a local farmer and key player in the operation, had kept him in the loop. Ghost had to stay ahead of the game—always.
It’d been five days since he’d moved into the Villa del Mar hacienda, but only two of those days were spent lounging by the beach. The other three? Deep in the Panamanian jungle, making sure the trial run went off without a hitch. He couldn’t afford to screw this up.
Miguel had collected the merchandise—just one crate for the trial—from a tribal fisherman who’d navigated the swampy waterways like it was second nature. The handoff had been smooth, ending with the crate stashed in an old warehouse on Miguel’s sugar plantation outside Cartagena.
Everyone got paid well for their part, and that’s how Ghost kept them loyal. No need for threats or bribes—just cash, and on time. So far, everything was running like clockwork.
Ghost reached across the desk and shook Markov’s hand. “Good to hear. Let me know when you’re ready to talk about scaling up.”
Markov stroked his chin, looking every bit like a cliché Bond villain. “I’ve already spoken to the Colombians. We should get the green light any day now.”
Ghost gave him a nod, keeping his expression calm.
Stay cool.
But inside, his mind was working overtime.
Get proof,Pat had drilled into him.We need something solid.
That was the tricky part.
The paperwork would be under dummy corporation names, signed by fake directors who probably didn’t even know what they were putting their names on. It was airtight. No accountability.
That’s how Suarez had run things. Nothing ever traced back to him. In the end, the only thing that brought Suarez down was the sting. He’d shown up in person for the final deal, and the whole thing had been caught on tape. No wiggle room after that.
Maybe that’s how they’d get Markov, too. But Ghost wasn’t counting on it. He needed another angle.
His mind wandered to Becca, sitting in the office next door.
Maybeshewas the angle.
They hadn’t exactly gotten off on the right foot. He still wasn’t sure if she was sleeping with Markov. The way the arms dealer called her "Becs" rubbed him the wrong way—way too familiar. And the fact that Markov had made it clear she was off-limits? That screamedpossessive.
Still, she didn’t strike Ghost as the type. He was good at reading people, and if he had to bet, he’d say she wasn’t sleeping with the boss.
What the hell? It was worth a shot.