Page 66 of Born for Starlight

"Her father's high up in state politics. In this country, that opens hospital doors."

"Huh. One thing I don't understand." She picked up the spoon again. “I’m going to need you to explain it to me, Matthew.” Her voice was low. Sexy.

Oh fuck. I was in trouble.

"What's that?"

"If Luzia's in the ICU, the sisters would know. Sister Beatriz told me they keep track of her. So why aren't the nuns already at that hospital? They're the only family she has."

The room got hot.

I've been questioned by professionals. I've sat across from men who wanted to put me in a hole, and I gave them a bored look and nothing else. One movie star with a dessert spoon had me sweating through my shirt.

"That's a good question," I said. "Give me two hours. Let me straighten all of it out. The access, the sisters, all of it. Two hours, and I'll have real answers for you."

She took another spoonful of chocolate. Sucked the spoon clean again. Chased it with milk, slow, while I aged a year.

"Two hours is fine," she purred.

The elevator doors closed, and I called myself every name in the book. Then I called myself the worst word there was.

Amateur. Fucking amateur.

Four lies. Four, in one lunch, stacked on top of each other, every one of them checkable by a woman with a cell phone and a concierge who'd walk through fire for her. One call to São Marcos would blow the ICU story. One conversation with Sister Beatriz would torch the rest. I'd broken every rule I lived by. You don't stack lies. Hell, you don't ever tell lies that can be checked. You don't build a cover you can't hold for one afternoon.

I'd done all three before dessert, because a beautiful woman sucked chocolate off a spoon and my brain had turned to mush.

Okay.

Breathe.

Two hours. In two hours I could get to Dantas and squeeze him for something real about where those girls had gone. Something true to carry back into that suite. If I came back with real progress on Luzia, the rest wouldn't matter. Angelica didn't want my story straight, she wanted the girl safe. I could still fix this. I'd fixed worse with less.

And the money men were still the job. That was the thing to keep my grip on. Aurora had never been my target. Neither was the auction. Aurora was one arm of the octopus, and an auction was just that arm feeding into the head. I'd spent three years mapping the whole animal, and what I wanted was the head. The men who never touched a child, never signed a paper, never stood in a room where anything happened.

Except on auction night. On auction night, they came out to collect.

So yes, I wanted that auction stopped. But I wanted the men behind it more.

And those were the same men who were excited about a movie star and an oversized check.

Why?

What the hell else did Layla know that she wouldn't say in front of Angelica?

And where the fuck was Luzia?

Dammit, I needed to find that little girl!

The doors opened on the lobby. Beto waited out front, propped against the sedan. Good. He'd better drive fast, and he could spend the ride explaining why his wife was baking chocolate for Layla.

I crossed the marble with my two hours already burning, and Layla's parting shot picked that moment to play one more time. Flat. Quiet. Certain.

Don't blow this, thinking with your dick.

At least she'd said it in Portuguese.

Message received, Layla.