Jam-man was really good, too. He was also kind. He was a good person. People like Bronislav and Coldhouse wouldn’t hesitate to use that goodness and compassion as leverage to get what they wanted.
This wasn't a trap she was going to walk into. All it would take was a little more time and effort to take these bad guys down—and she would do it without risking everyone she loved in the process.
“Beautifulandsmart,” Allison murmured.
Resentment flashed through Junebug. “You don’t have to make that sound so surprising,” she snapped back.
Allison looked down, hiding the humor in her eyes but not quite containing her smirk. Then she took a deep breath, her demeanor suddenly serious. “Bronislav gave me twelve hours to give him your location. If I know him, and I do, he has men following your Jawahir prince while he waits for me to call him. Hell, he probably has a tail on me as well.”
Junebug stiffened and glanced around the coffee shop before returning her attention to Allison. “Why are you doing this? Why are you warning me?”
“He has something that I want... and so do you,” Allison replied with a shrug.
“Why don’t you get itwithoutlosing your moral compass?" she retorted.
Allison laughed out loud again and shook her head. “How can you still be so naïve after everything you’ve seen and done? You’ve taken down some of the cruelest men in the world. You knowexactlyhow dark this world is, and you're still certain the rest of us can walk through it without getting tainted? You must have been living in an ivory tower all these years.”
Junebug ignored that and pressed the send button on her phone. The recording of their conversation sped its way across the invisible wavelengths to Jameel. He would need all the information he could get about Allison.
“I’m not as naïve as you think. You might want to dig a hole and bury yourself somewhere, Allison. I don’t think you want to go into work tomorrow—for MI6 or Bronislav.”
Allison’s eyes glittered behind the wide frame of her glasses. Instead of anger, Junebug saw amusement. She wondered if she had fallen into a trap, after all.
"Let me guess: you just attempted to record our conversation and send it to my bosses."
Junebug's eyes showed her surprise and wariness.
“I would have thought you already knew, Bugs. I’m good.”
Junebug didn’t miss Allison's certainty or the way her eyes flickered to the entrance of the coffee shop. She twisted in her seat. Two men were standing in the entrance staring back at her.
“It’s crowded,” she declared.
“Do you really think they care? The uniforms give them a license,” Allison replied.
Junebug’s mind swirled with scenarios. A party of about fifteen twenty-something-year-olds rose from a group of tables they had pulled together as the men started forward. Junebug swept her hand across her own table, knocking her hot chocolate over. The liquid poured across the Formica tabletop and straight into Allison’s lap.
Junebug was already in motion even as Allison released a startled shout and hissed out a long curse. In seconds, Bugs' petite stature was concealed within the laughing group. The group swept past the two men dressed in police uniforms before they realized what had happened.
She passed through the doorway into the lobby. A startled cry slipped from her when firm fingers wrapped around her forearm. She twisted on her heel and brought her hand up, palm flat—and stopped her attack a fraction of an inch from Jameel’s nose. She reeled backward, and his arm swept around her back to steady her. Jameel had thrown his other hand up to intercept her attack, but when the motion turned out to be unnecessary, he placed his hand on her shoulder. His heat blazed through her clothes.
“Jam-man,” she breathed, her eyes locking with his awe-struck gaze.
"Bugs," he whispered.
He swept her into his embrace. Her feet left the ground as he straightened to his full height, and she gasped at the feeling of his body against hers. She quickly pulled back to look up at him.
“There are two men in police uniforms that aren’t police and they are after me and I don’t like your friend Wells,” she said in an urgent tone.
“I got your message. Come on,” Jameel said, setting her back on her feet and gripping her hand.
Junebug held onto Jameel’s hand as they raced through the lobby toward the front doors. She glanced over her shoulder. The two men dressed as police officers had exited the coffee shop and were scanning the area. The men darted forward. The last glimpse Junebug caught was of Allison standing in the entrance to the coffee shop with her arms folded and an amused expression on her face.
They ran to a car waiting out front. A handsome gentleman dressed in a suit opened the back door for them. Jam-man motioned for her to go first.
“Thank you,” she called out in a breathless voice as she scrambled in.
“James, those two men are not police officers,” Jameel stated before following her.
