Man Hunt

by Misty Evans

  Or was it her imagination?

  Before she could sort her mixed feelings, Ryker broke eye contact, took her hand, and led her out of the elevator.

  Chapter Four

  Heating up the area

  * * *

  The hotel suite was impressive, the white marble and gold trim nearly blinding Ryker.

  It didn't hold a candle to Mia as she examined the layout, dragging a couple fingers across the top of the bar. Two crystal glasses sat next to a bottle of sparkling wine, chilling in a silver bucket, complements of the hotel.

  Mia tapped her red fingernails against the bottle, her gaze going to the sliding glass doors and an impressive view of the city. From the adjacent high-rises to the traffic on the road below, Monte Carlo seemed to be laid out at their feet. “Fancy,” she said.

  Hmm, not easily impressed.

  She strolled to the doors, opened them, Ryker tracking her every move. The dress she wore emphasized her stunning rack and matching hips. She was a beautiful woman, and even though she wasn't easy to get along with, he had to admit it had been no hardship to pretend to be her husband downstairs. The fact he’d found it so easy to put his hands on her and act as if he were in love with her scared the hell out of him.

  Could celibacy make you crazy?

  Seeing her stand on the balcony with the backdrop of the city, his mind went where it shouldn't. What would it be like to kiss her neck again while he pinned her to the railing? To trail his fingers along the hem of that dress, teasing it up, up, up, and molding himself against her?

  “Beautiful, isn't it?” The words came out low, his voice rough.

  As if she sensed the alternative meaning behind the comment, Mia whirled around, a question in her eyes. Her glossy red lips pursed and two creases formed between her brows. “I suppose it’ll do. We won't be spending much time out here anyway, will we?”

  She was still in undercover mode, and for good reason. They hadn't checked for bugs. Embarrassed at being caught in a fantasy about his new partner, Ryker coughed and cleared his throat, heading for his suitcase. The razor in his Dopp kit doubled as a wireless bug detection unit. Parker had already tapped into the hotel’s video surveillance and confirmed there were no cameras in this room. “Why don't you run your bath, honey? Get ready for dinner. I'll pop the sparkling wine and join you in a moment.”

  “Sounds marvelous.” Her voice had an edge, suggesting she was annoyed rather than happy at the suggestion. He glanced up and saw her glaring at him, the corners of her eyes narrowed. He raised both hands in the air, giving her a what look.

  She mouthed the word honey and arched one brow.

  Was that a bad word? Must've been in Mia's book.

  Noted.

  He tossed the detector at her and headed for the bar. As he worked on the cork, she moved around checking for listening devices. She was fast and thorough, but he still planned to follow her to make sure she did a good job. The last thing they needed was to blow their cover before they even got this mission underway.

  Damn cork. He was good at a lot of things but opening wine bottles wasn’t one of them. He fought with it, then glanced up—where had she gone?

  The bedroom. Still holding the bottle, he followed.

  The room was large, complete with a sitting area, fireplace, and another balcony. Everything was done in rich blues and more white. He scanned the furniture, the walls, his brain noting there was only one large bed.

  He had the bottle in hand, thumb on the cork, when he heard a soft shuffle coming from the other side of the bed.

  Mia was on her knees, ass in the air, her slender legs in full view and the dress giving him a wicked display as she ran the detector under the bed.

  Boom! The cork exploded out of the bottle, whacking the ceiling and startling them both

  “What the…?” Mia jerked around to look at him.

  Crap. Ryker sent his attention around the room to land on anything that wasn't Mia. She scrambled up from the floor and he turned so she wouldn't see the growing bulge in his pants.

  The creases between her eyes deepened and she scowled as she passed by him to get to the bathroom.

  So far, he hadn't heard the beeper on the detector go off and that was a good thing, but if he didn't stop getting distracted by his partner, he was going to blow things anyway.

  He personally didn't enjoy sparkling wine, so he poured one glass and took that and her suitcase into the bathroom. She was finishing up, and shook her head at him. “Nothing.”

  “You're sure?”

  Her lips thinned, eyes narrowing again. She handed him the detector and grabbed the glass. “Feel free to check for yourself, honey.”

  Back to that. “What’s wrong with calling you honey?”

  “Honey, baby, sugar.” She gave an obvious shudder. “After working at the bar for the past four months, I've heard them all far too many times. They’re demeaning and get under my skin, that's all.”

  Without touching the alcohol, she put the glass on the marble vanity top and started removing her jewelry. Her eyes were guarded in the mirror as she wrestled with unhooking her necklace. “I'll be ready for dinner shortly.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “If I can get this damn thing off.”

  He set the detector next to the glass and stepped up behind her, gently knocking her fingers out of the way. “Let me help.”

  She swept her long curls over one shoulder, baring the back of her neck to him. The scent of her perfume mixed with the smell of her skin, tickling his nostrils.

  His fingers were thick and clumsy as he tried to unlatch the intricate chain. Yep, celibacy was making his brain malfunction. He had the weirdest urge to lean down and kiss the nape of her neck.

  Clearing his throat to remove the sudden lump above his Adam's apple, he met her eyes in the mirror. She was staring at him but it was no longer with annoyance or frustration. Instead the green had darkened to emerald.

  “What would you prefer I call you?” he asked, the words coming out slightly ragged. “Wifey? Toots? Darlin’? Doll? Hotcakes?”

  At first she was silent, then she laughed, realizing he was teasing. The sound started slow and soft, becoming more boisterous. Her body vibrated so hard he couldn't hang onto the necklace. “Sorry, I guess there isn't a better moniker, is there?” she asked. “Although hotcakes has possibilities.”

  Her smile was warm, her eyes dancing with mischief. It was good to make her laugh, a tickle of triumph nestling next to his heart. “Hold still so I can get this off.”

  She did as instructed, her hands gripping the countertop. “What can you tell me about Kaiser that isn't in the reports?”

  Ryker took a deep breath, managing to get a hold of the clasp and unlocking it. The necklace fell from his fingertips and he took one of her hands, turning it upright to pool the chain in it. “He'll be quite taken with you. You embody exactly what he finds attractive—beauty and brains in one package.”

  She must’ve heard the concern in his voice, her body turning to face him. “Makes him easy prey. I know how to handle assertive men.”

  What it made him was dangerous. More so than she could imagine. “He’s not assertive, he’s a bully. He only likes willful women because he gets off on breaking them. Do not let him get you alone. You stay with me at all times, do you understand?”

  “I appreciate your concern.” Her fingers were light but firm on his arm. “But with all due respect, I'm not Petra. I can take care of myself. We’re partners, and it's not your job to protect me any more than it is mine to protect you.”

  “That’s where you're wrong.” He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Protecting each other is our first objective. No matter what happens, I will not let Kaiser, or anyone else, hurt you.”

  She was so close, so determined, those emerald eyes of hers glinting with purpose. Ryker remembered what it was like on his first undercover mission, the self-righteousness he’d felt. The confidence. As he looked into her eyes, he knew she was too s
mart to let either emotion cloud her judgment, and yet, she wouldn't be here putting her life on the line if it wasn't for him. She was his responsibility, whether she liked it or not.

  A small but insistent voice reminded him the last thing he needed to do was let his own emotions and desires get in the way. Taking a significant step back, he nodded at her suitcase. “Go ahead and change. We’ll go downstairs for dinner and finish scoping out the—”

  A loud knock sounded, interrupting him.

  “Who is that?” Mia asked softly.

  “Stay in here. I'll find out.”

  As he passed by his suitcase on the way to the door, he grabbed his H&K P8, hiding it in the waistband under his shirt. “Who is it?”

  “Room service,” a female voice called.

  He ignored the peephole and kept to the side of the door. “You've got the wrong room. We didn't order any.”

  “Complements of hotel management, sir.” Her English was good and her voice was full of cheer, a slight Jamaican accent flowing through her sentences. “Since you be on your honeymoon and all.”

  Hmm. “Leave it outside on the floor.”

  Through the crack at the bottom of the door he saw shadows move, heard the soft swish of the woman's clothing as she walked away. He waited another minute, sensing Mia's head peeking around the corner. He unlocked the door slowly and opened it, noting a basket on the floor. He scanned the hallway in both directions and saw no one else. A visual scan showed it to be filled with assorted fruits and chocolates, a couple of hotel trinkets, and a stack of poker chips.

  He brought it in and Mia ran the bug detector over it. Clean.

  She shrugged and began unloading. “There's a note.”

  She handed it to him and he opened it, a sick feeling crawling into his stomach when he saw the handwriting and signature at the bottom.

  “What does it say?” she asked.

  Ryker drew in a breath and tucked the note back into the basket. “We've been invited to a private dinner with Karl Kaiser.”

  “Wow, that was quick. Works for me. The sooner we get this show on the road, the sooner we get back to the States.” A knowing smile curved her lips and she headed back to the bathroom. “I’ll be out in five.”

  Take your time, he wanted to say. This was happening faster than he wanted. Mia needed more info on Kaiser. He needed to go over the plan again.

  When she emerged in less than five minutes, he was standing at the balcony doors stewing.

  “Will this do?”

  Her sexy voice brought him out of his mind travel. He glanced at her, doing a double take. She’d replaced the previous mini-dress with a long, slinky, silk number in red that showed off every curve and made his mind go blank.

  Sensing he was speechless, she did a red-carpet walk to him, her fresh lipstick the same color as the dress. She’d pulled her hair into an elegant upsweep. “Stop worrying. This is what we wanted.”

  He nodded and she grabbed both of his arms, forcing him to look at her. Her eyes were thickly lined, making them pop even more. “We’ve got this.”

  He finally found his voice. “You should stay here. I can say you have a headache. Let me do this on my own.”

  “Ha! You wish!” She gave him an evil grin and playfully slapped him on the rear. “Come on, let’s go. We don’t want to keep Kaiser waiting…hotcakes.”

  * * *

  A spy is born

  * * *

  The Trillium boasted two restaurants and several bars. If you wanted to see a standup comedian and have a couple drinks, Apollo was the spot for you. For casual dining, the smaller restaurant, Dionysus, which faced the Maritime Alps, was known for its five-star breakfasts. The one listed on the invite was called Zeus and was only open at night for private parties.

  “Who eats dinner at midnight?” Mia asked, checking her earring containing the video camera to make sure it was secure. While Ryker appeared to be moving casually, she was having trouble keeping up with him in the floor-length dress. Like the previous outfit, it molded to her body, the skirt restrictive, even with the split up the left leg.

  “Karl Kaiser, known to many as a global dealer of death, started his arms business AYN Supply—Arm You Nation—in the 90s, his biggest deals were with Saudi Arabia and Qatar,” Ryker murmured under his breath so only she could hear. “Germany is third in arms trade, coming in slightly behind the US and Russia, so he's made billions legitimately. More on the black market working with China and North Korea. He became an ambassador for Germany three years ago, although he's only been stationed two places—the US for six months, and Afghanistan for three weeks before that. Never took Petra or Jaeger with him. Both times, I believe he was working deals with multiple countries, legally and illegally.”

  She already knew this, but it was as if Ryker knew going over the facts calmed her nerves. Her body was putting on a show and attracting a lot of attention as they made their way down the impressive first floor hallway, which made her slightly uneasy. Giving her brain something to analyze was the perfect solution. “Billionaire arms dealer Gaspard Manafort”—two could play this game—“was both an ally and Karl’s direct competition in surplus guns and ammunition from legitimate government sources as well as a few illegal ones. Bulgaria, Cyprus, Australia, Vietnam, you had a talent for finding buyers.”

  He squeezed her hand and sent her a wide grin. “I have—had—a reputation for finding women in those countries as well.”

  They passed the concierge’s desk. “Are you bragging?”

  “I thought we were reviewing facts. I had a reputation; don't be surprised if Kaiser brings it up, which he might do if he doesn't kick me out first.”

  She screwed up her lips, and he said “You’re not jealous, are you?”

  “Of what? Your fake reputation?”

  He chuckled. “It was fake. I tried to be James Bond, flirting with every woman I came into contact with while undercover, but casual relationships can get you killed. Not for me.”

  Her shoulders relaxed somewhat. “So will Kaiser use your Gaspard reputation to bait me, or you?”

  “Both. He likes to knock people off their game and keep them there, so he always has the upper hand. Don't let him goad you.” They arrived at the large double doors of the Zeus. Ryker put a hand on the ornate knob and paused, looking her over from head to toe as if making sure she would pass muster.

  Instinct made her suck in her tummy. The feminist in her growled and she relaxed it again.

  He stared for so long, she got itchy. “What is it?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing.”

  Before he could open the door, she grabbed his arm and sank her nails into it. “That was not a nothing look.”

  In fact, it was very much a something look. She just wasn't sure exactly what. If he'd truly been her husband or even a date, she would have called it lust, pure and simple.

  His chest expanded, his gaze dancing away. “You look beautiful.”

  Okay then. Heat bloomed low in her belly. There had to be a catch. Was he simply trying to distract her, or build her confidence? “I feel like there's a but coming.”

  Gray eyes swung back to hers. “No but.”

  Just like in the bathroom mirror, she suddenly felt like there was something else going on between them. Was it simple attraction? Or something deeper brought on by this dangerous situation?

  It was a weird feeling. What happened in Berlin—they shared something that had changed both of them on a profound level without really knowing each other. Yet it linked her to him more strongly in ways she’d never felt with anyone else. There was no one in the world who shared this distinct connection.

  Whatever the hell it is.

  “Thank you…?” Mia wasn't sure how to respond, but he’d seemed sincere.

  A pair of sloppy drunk females approached, laughing too loudly. Ryker drew her aside and maneuvered her behind a potted palm tree whose branches reached toward the glass atrium roof overhead.

  “The i
rony is I should be thanking you.” His hand landed on her hip, his head lowering slightly as if he were about to kiss her. Anyone watching would think the two were sharing an intimate moment. “This may be my only chance to set things right for Petra and thousands of others who suffered because of Kaiser's dealings.”

  Her skin tingled underneath his hand and she reached up to caress his face, telling herself she was playing a part. “We both have a dog in this fight. If I get my job back, I will owe you free pizza for life.”

  He chuckled under his breath. “Why do you want to go back so bad? They screwed you over, didn't they?”

  She sighed and dropped her hand. “I have my reasons.” One main reason anyway. “I take it you trust me now and don't believe I had anything to do with the explosion that night?”

  He glanced to his left down the hall. “I don't trust anyone, quite honestly. But you saved Jaeger, and Beatrice believes in you, so I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt.”

  There it was—the but she'd heard earlier in his voice. Her heart sank a little and she leaned away from his hand, missing its heat immediately. She tipped her head back, the dark night sky above her was too cloudy for stars. “Good talk. Let's get this over with.”

  As she skirted away, he grabbed her hand and tugged her back. She lost her balance, her high heels not made for sudden turns, and crashed into his broad chest. “I know that's not what you wanted to hear, but I'm being honest, Mia.”

  He was so close she could’ve kissed him. His eyes were sincere but sometimes honesty sucked. “Let's just focus on the mission,” she huffed, her breasts enjoying being pressed into his solid chest far too much. “You befriend Kaiser and together we'll get him to buy into our new illegal business venture. Once he does that, the trap will be laid to get the evidence we need against him.”

  “Fine. But once this is over, I want you to be honest with me.”

  “About what?”

  “Why you want to work for the CIA again.”