Free Personal Target: An Elite Ops Novel by Kay Thomas

she listened to the surreal demands. Hosea had said someone was coming. She just hoped they got here before she had to deal with the “important client.”
    “Cameras. They are watching all the time.”
    God, was this really about to happen?
    How had she gone from being a freshly divorced college professor worrying about her Christmas break to turning her first trick in a Mexican bordello?

 
    Chapter Seven
----
    Saturday, late evening
    Tenancingo
    F IFTEEN MINUTES AFTER they had made their “selections,” Monique led Nick and Bryan upstairs. They arrived at Bryan’s destination first.
    “For all the ruckus out front with that music, it’s very quiet up here,” said Bryan. “No distractions.”
    Monique smiled, her hand on the bedroom doorknob. “Yes, we find our clients prefer a peaceful atmosphere.”
    Nick nodded. Message received. Bryan would be causing a “distraction” soon. He was thinking about which side of the house they’d need to leave from to get Jennifer out when a heavy oak door swung open. He caught only a glimpse of a king-size bed before Bryan walked inside and shut the door behind him.
    Nick hoped Hollywood could slip the child out of the house without frightening her. There might even be a back exit. He forced himself to focus on the details of the rescue in order to avoid thinking about seeing Jenny for the first time in a decade. He was honest enough with himself to know that dwelling on that particular fact would decimate his concentration. Jennifer was the mission right now. That was the only way he could think of her and make it through this.
    A few steps away, Monique knocked at another intricately designed door before swinging it open. The room was so different from what he’d expected that he paused in the doorway. Oversized furniture and a massive canopied bed with tapestried coverings filled the room. The glow of candles cast a dim light, illuminating a table covered with food and wine chilling in an ice bucket. A woman was seated at a vanity. Her back was to the door; her face reflected in the mirror.
    “The phone is there beside the bed. Please dial zero if there’s anything further you require.” Monique sounded like a bellhop as Nick moved into the room. The door closed behind him with a snap.
    The woman at the vanity turned, and his breath caught in his throat. Nick had known it would be Jenny, and despite what he’d thought about downstairs when he’d seen her on the tablet screen, he hadn’t prepared himself for seeing her like this. Seated at the table with candles all around, she was wearing a sheer robe over a gray thong and a bustier kind of thing, or that’s what he thought the full-length bra was called.
    He spotted the small unicorn tat peeping out from the edge of whatever the lingerie piece was and his brain quit processing details as all the blood in his head rushed south. He’d been primed to come in and tell Jenny exactly how they were getting out of the house and away from these people and now . . . this. His mouth went dry at the sight of her. She looked like every fantasy he’d ever had about her rolled into one.
    He continued to stare as recognition flared in her eyes.
    “Oh my God,” she said. “It’s . . .”
    She clapped her mouth closed, and her eyes widened. That struck him as odd. The relief on her face was obvious, but instead of looking at him, she took an audible breath and studied the walls of the room. When she finally did glance at him again, her eyes had changed.
    “So you’re who they’ve sent me for my first time?” Her voice sounded bored, not the tone he remembered. “What do you want me to do?”
    What a question. He raised an eyebrow, but she shook her head. In warning?
    Nothing here was as he’d anticipated. He continued staring at her, hoping the lust would quit fogging his brain long enough for him to figure out what was going on.
    “I’ve been told to show you a good time.” Her voice was cold, downright chilly.