He was a hard man. He was in deep, and he knew that if he didn’t pull out soon, he wouldn’t be able to.

Damn. He was too good to end up in this predicament. When Luc, his brother, and a desk jockey for the agency, sent him on this assignment, they’d both known it would be dangerous. Neither of them had anticipated that he might not come back. As hard a man as he was, he was close to losing it right now. He didn’t intend to let his prey escape. Unfortunately, he was in a tight spot—a prison cell at El Mina, off the coast of Ghana.

Originally built for and during the slave trade, the cells were still impenetrable. And as far as he knew, no one was aware he was here, not even Luc. His assignment had been to simply monitor Anthony, but when a lead presented itself, he followed it, and now he found himself on lock.

He sat back on his haunches and gave the lock a long, steady stare. Maybe the lock heard his thoughts, because it clicked, and the door slowly began to open. He threw himself to the left of the door and assumed a fighting stance, because he had no idea what was on the other side. The door didn’t bang against the wall outside the cell as he had expected. Instead, a slow steady breeze, unusual in Ghana this time of year, wafted through the opening. Then, he saw the barrel of a nine mil, attached to an arm covered entirely in black. He didn’t give his visitor any time to think, he grabbed the arm at the wrist, pulled the body attached to it into the cell and executed an Aikido move. He found himself on top of a body covered from head to toe in black and the scent was one he hadn’t smelled since this assignment began—a woman. By the time he identified the soft, sweet smell of the fairer sex, he found himself flat on his back with the nine mil in his face.