No One Lives Forever by Jordan Dane Page B

back at him. "Have you stayed with us before, Mr. Delacorte?"
    The uniformed hotel clerk behind the registration desk looked bored as he asked the obligatory question yet another time. The young man didn't care what his answer would be.
    "No, I haven't. It's my first time to Cuiabá." Christian watched the clerk work the keyboard to the hotel computer with eyes glazed over. Time to get the man's attention. "Were you working the night Nicholas Charboneau was kidnapped from this hotel?"
    Like getting hit with a cattle prod, the man jerked his head, eyes struggling for a discreet look at the hotel guest asking the question. His fingers flattened on the computer keys. The clerk no longer looked bored.
    "Yes, sir, I was. But I don't know anything about it." He resumed his work, trying hard to avoid Christian's stare.
    Jasmine had stopped her pacing, but he felt the heat of her glare. She kept her mouth shut, willing to see where he'd take this. On trivial matters, the woman could be a real team player.
    Christian lowered his voice. "That's too bad. Because if you did know something, you could be a rich man." He leaned across the front desk, locking eyes with the clerk. "I'm offering a sizable reward in U.S. dollars to anyone with information leading to the return of Charboneau ... alive. No questions asked."
    Jasmine resumed her pacing but kept her silence. She let the sharp staccato of her footsteps on the marble floor do all her talking.
    He handed the clerk his business card. "I can be reached on my cell phone. I'd appreciate you passing the word. The sooner the better."
    Christian had a tri-band cell phone with international roaming, a necessity of the job.
    "Like I said, I know nothing." The man handed him the card key to their accommodations, his jaw knotted with tension. "I hope you enjoy your stay in Cuiabá. And as always, it is a pleasure to see you, Ms. Lee." He nodded to Jasmine, a nervous display of good manners and a gesture she didn't acknowledge.
    As Christian turned for the bank of elevators, bellhop and luggage in tow at a respectful distance, Jasmine slipped her arm into his and muttered under her breath. "What the hell was that all about? I don't appreciate working under the limelight. Shadows are more to my liking."
    "Yeah, but we don't have the luxury of time on our side. We gotta jump-start our search." He punched the button for the elevator, keeping his voice low. "Besides, I thought a surprise game of Russian roulette would appeal to a woman like you."
    "Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm an adrenaline junkie, but I've always believed Russian roulette is best played with a rigged game. I prefer someone else's name on the bullet."
    "Nice to see you've got a strong sense of fair play. Glad you're on my side."
    Even as he said the words, Christian didn't believe Jasmine picked sides. Why complicate the issue when no one else mattered but número uno? He knew the exotic woman played by her own set of rules. No way in hell fair would ever muddle her playbook.
    Yet Jasmine had sought him out and risked her life to rescue Charboneau. Out of loyalty? Or out of something more? None of it made sense, given what he believed of this woman. Maybe Raven had been right to warn him. Had he stepped into some grand conspiracy concocted by Jasmine ... or Charboneau? Another retribution scheme against Fiona?
    He'd leapt into the fray head first, way too vulnerable to anything associated with his past and the father he never knew. Fine time for second thoughts, Delacorte. He caught a glimpse of wariness darkening Jasmine's eyes, but eventually her lips nudged into a smile.
    "Few things surprise me anymore," she said, her fingers slithering up his arm like a nest of snakes zeroing in on their next meal. "But I am willing to see what you have up your sleeve, Christian."
    Not half as much as I want to see what's up yours, Jasmine.

CHAPTER 8
    A red blinking eye drew his attention. Christian walked down the hallway to his hotel suite with