Undercover Nightingale

by Rosnau, Wendy

  The air was cool in the room, and she realized that she was giving him a parade performance, too.

  “What happened to your neck?”

  She touched the bruise on her throat. “It must have happened this afternoon during the ambush.”

  He ran his hand down her spine and she closed her eyes. He’d gotten her out of her clothes so fast she had thought the rest would be quick, too. She didn’t expect foreplay. In fact, she was surprised by it.

  If he thought she didn’t understand by now the way a man’s mind and body worked, he was wrong. Just because a woman needed more than the act to be satisfied, didn’t change the facts, or the one-two-three code men lived by whether they realized it or not.

  Men are all action, baby doll. Get hard, get in, get out. The next thing you know they’re snoring or pulling on their pants and having a cigarette.

  His warm hands continued to play with her, tease her flesh and arouse her insides in ways she wasn’t prepared for. Right now she didn’t need an exception to Bonnie’s rules on men and sex. The act, she could handle. It would just be sex, and then her debt to him would be paid, and hopefully by tomorrow she and Filip would be gone. That is, if he was strong enough to get out of bed. He’d certainly had a surge of energy when he’d tried to choke her.

  But as the minutes ticked slowly by Toriago continued to break the rules. Continued to touch her and stroke her body until she felt as if she was going to melt into a pool on the floor.

  She turned around. “Stop. Really, you don’t have to waste time getting me ready. I’m ready.”

  “You’re ready for what?”

  “To repay my debt.”

  “What’s your rush? We have all night.” His hands drifted over her bare shoulders, and then one finger traced a slow path over the width of one breast to the other, brushing her nipples.

  “I’m a get in, get out, kind of girl,” she finally said.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.” She ran her hand down his chest and boldly cupped him. “I think you’re more than ready, so—”

  “Maybe you should make sure. Put your hand in my pants.”

  He was watching her for a reaction. She hesitated only a second, then slowly slid her hand inside and touched him, curling her fingers around him.

  This time it was her turn to check out his reaction. He sucked in a ragged breath, then his arm tightened around her. She could feel him pulsing in her hand as she stroked him, hear every breath he took.

  “You’re more than ready. In fact, you feel like you’re in pain,” she whispered.

  “More than you know.” He nuzzled her ear, and his smooth cheek brushed her face. Suddenly, he asked, “Do you always do whatever you’re told?”

  “Is this a trick question?”

  “Your answer is supposed to be, ‘Only when you’re the one asking.’”

  “Sorry. I didn’t realize I was feeding your ego as well as your—”

  He kissed her before she could finish what she was going to say. And while he played with her lips, she played with him.

  Good old foreplay. The magic pill to bringing a woman to her knees. Only she wasn’t going to let it happen. She wasn’t going to feel anything for this man.

  The minute she made herself that promise, the kiss turned erotic, and she realized she was in trouble.

  He was turning this into something more than just sex. He was getting to know her body, and likewise she was learning his. He was getting into her head, and that was too intimate.

  She pulled her hand away from him. “Enough of this.”

  “No.” He slid his hand over her back and down her hips, his fingers cupping her small ass. Stroking her, he pulled her flush against him and rotated his hips.

  The scent of him, his hands on her… It was too much and she arched against him, suddenly wanting him to take his time. Wanting this slow seduction to go on all night no matter what the price.

  Her hands went around him and she stroked his broad back, felt his smooth flesh and the bulk of his muscles beneath her fingertips.

  His heart was pounding in his chest, or was it hers?

  When he broke the kiss, he stepped away from her and walked to the bed. Pulling back the sheet, he said, “After you.”

  She climbed onto the mattress wearing only her panties and lay down. His gaze found hers, then it drifted downward, over her slender neck, her naked breasts—farther to the junction of her thighs.

  When he sat down beside her, she did all she could do not to reach for him. Her stomach was in a fever knot, and her insides were screaming for him to put his hands on her again.

  She hadn’t been with a man in a long time. That had to be the reason why she was aching so badly, so hot for him.

  “You’re not afraid of me?”

  “No.”

  “And you’re not afraid of Petrov?”

  “I already told you I’m not.”

  “Not even when he tried to choke you.” He laid his hand over her throat, fit his fingers into the pattern of the bruises in the same manner Filip had hours ago.

  “You’re very perceptive, Toriago.”

  His next move was unexpected. He stood and went looking for his cigarettes. Finding them, he lit one and blew smoke toward the ceiling.

  He was supposed to smoke afterwards. But then nothing about Toriago seemed to fit into Bonnie’s mold.

  “What do you want me to do? Do you like to watch? Should I touch myself?”

  More smoke. He was now leaning against the wall.

  What was he waiting for?

  “Do you like that? Does it get you off?”

  At the moment she would just as soon it was his hands that sent her over the edge, his fingers moving between her legs.

  She raised her hand, was about to cup one of her breasts.

  “Don’t.”

  She stopped. “Is there something else you want? Something else you’d like me to do?”

  “You can close your eyes.”

  “All right.” She did what he asked. “Now what?”

  “Now go to sleep.”

  Her eyes blinked open. “Sleep? You want me to go to sleep?”

  “It’s been a long day. For both of us. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Stunned, Allegra watched him step out of his black pants, flash her his tight, amazing ass, and pull on his jeans. Leaving them unzipped, his body still throbbing for release, he grabbed his shirt and jacket, then walked out of the room and closed the door.

  It went without saying that if he allowed Stillman to walk over him, then maybe he wasn’t the man he used to be. That just maybe he should be retired.

  Doubt had been chewing Merrick up all day, and it made him feel older than ever before.

  He needed a drink, but he didn’t open the drawer and reach for the scotch. Instead he reached for the phone on the second ring.

  To his surprise it was Sarah Finny, the woman he couldn’t love until his life made sense again.

  “Hello, Sarah.”

  “Adolf. I…haven’t heard from you in several days. Is everything all right?”

  “Yes. I’ve been busy is all. The office has been a little crazy this week.”

  “Okay, well… It’s your birthday today, right? I was wondering if you’d like to come over for dinner?”

  Merrick glanced at the calendar on his desk. He’d been so busy he’d forgotten what day it was. No wonder he’d been feeling so damn old all day.

  The date sparked an old memory. If Johanna was alive she would be shopping for his favorite foods today, and when he got home she would have met him at the door with a glass of wine, and that sexy smile of hers. There would be candles burning over the fireplace, and after dinner—

  “Adolf, will you come to dinner?”

  “Ah…no, Sarah, I can’t. I’ve made other plans.”

  “Oh. I know I should have called sooner.”

  “No, it’s all right.”

  “Well, happy birthday, t
hen, and… I’ll see you when I see you.”

  “Thanks for the call.”

  Merrick hung up the phone. He should never have started seeing Sarah this past year. He’d led her to believe that he was ready for a relationship when that wasn’t the case.

  Not that he didn’t want a normal life. Maybe after he’d caught the Chameleon and sent him to hell, he’d be able to move forward. But for now he was carrying around too much baggage. Baggage Sarah didn’t need in her normal, very routine, safe life.

  God willing, by this time next year he would be able to shed his old skin and be the man Sarah needed, but for now he wasn’t that man. He might feel old, but he was still determined to stay in the game.

  Stillman was wrong. He wasn’t ready to retire. Not until he had the Chameleon on his knees begging for his life just before he killed him.

  Merrick left his office well after six. He drove his black Corvette by Sarah’s flower shop just as she was turning off the lights. He parked his car and watched her lock up, then watched her punch in the security code that would allow her to enter her apartment on the second floor.

  He studied her shapely curves, her pretty face. She was a beautiful woman. A woman who lived an uncomplicated life. It was true she’d had her share of heartache. Her father and mother were dead, but they had died from illness, not at the hands of some maniac.

  He didn’t have the right to dump his messy life into her lap. Sarah deserved a man with a normal eight-to-five job, with a hobby.

  No, he couldn’t chance the Chameleon striking out at him through another innocent woman. He wouldn’t jeopardize Sarah the way he had unknowingly gambled with Johanna’s life.

  Johanna.

  He needed a drink. One drink to celebrate fifty-two. He deserved it. Hell, he’d been clean for six months.

  One drink. Just one.

  Merrick started the car and headed for the closest bar. He parked, and opened the door, then just as quickly, slammed it shut.

  What was he doing? This wasn’t the answer.

  An hour later Merrick entered an AA meeting already in progress and slipped into the back row. He listened to the speaker, not hearing much of it, and when the meeting ended, he went home with his belly growling from hunger.

  He was unlocking the outside door when a stray cat appeared on the stoop. He opened the door and the cat ran inside.

  “Looking for something to eat, are you? That makes two of us.”

  The tabby meowed, and as Merrick headed into the elevator, the scruffy feline followed.

  Like gum on his shoes, the cat stuck to him as he left the elevator and headed to his apartment. When he opened the door, the cat didn’t wait for an invitation.

  He opened two cans of tuna fish. Gave one to the cat and ate the other himself. He topped it off with a peanut butter sandwich, then took a shower and climbed into bed.

  He laid awake for hours, his thoughts shifting from Ash Kelly to the Chameleon. But eventually, as always happened when he was about to fall asleep, Johanna’s beautiful face surfaced.

  Merrick fell asleep thinking about the last birthday he’d shared with his wife, his thirty-fifth. It seemed like a lifetime ago, and at the same time, only yesterday. Everything was so damn vivid, he could even feel Johanna next to him, touching him and calling out to him.

  Calling out to him from the grave.

  He felt himself pulse to life and he wrapped his hand around himself and envisioned that Johanna was the one stroking him, stroking him like she used to do.

  It didn’t take long before he was groaning and dreaming—sleeping with her ghost like he did every night.

  A ghost that was determined to stay with him throughout eternity.

  The next morning he awoke to find the orange tabby spooned against him, purring loudly. He reached out and stroked the cat’s head.

  Johanna had always wanted a cat.

  “Okay,” he said, “you can stay. Just don’t expect too much. I’m not here much.”

  The cat raised her head as if she understood what he’d said, then she closed her eyes and snuggled deeper into the blankets.

  It was while Merrick was getting dressed for work that he got the call. He listened carefully to what Sly had to say, all the while wondering how Burgess Stillman could have gotten his hands on that kind of information.

  He asked, “Did Ash tell you who he really is?”

  “Yes. Marco Toriago.”

  “You said Ash is in Budapest to recover a stolen disk. What’s that about?”

  “It’s got to do with SDECE access codes. I’m set up for communication. I’ll keep you updated.”

  “This agent Stillman wants Ash to run down, you’re sure he said it was Grant?”

  “Yes.”

  “It looks like Stillman’s problems are bigger than I thought,” Merrick said. “Internal chaos. Public scrutiny and professional ruin. He’s facing it all. I sympathize, but I can’t condone how he’s handled it.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “The first thing I’m going to do is find out how Stillman got his hands on Ash’s identity.”

  Merrick hung up the phone and immediately called the airport, then headed to headquarters. He didn’t go to his office. Instead, he paid a visit to Peter Briggs in the Green Room.

  “Hello, Peter.”

  His old comrade turned his wheelchair away from his desk when he heard his name.

  “If you’re here about Burgess Stillman, I’m afraid he doesn’t have any skeletons that I can find. But I did manage to hijack this.” Peter reached for a file on his desk and handed it to Merrick. “Don’t know if it’ll help, but I thought it was worth looking at.”

  Merrick took the file, glanced at Peter’s body. Since he’d lost his legs, his life had been cemented in that damn wheelchair.

  Merrick had been the one who had pulled him from the carnage. Peter had spent close to a year in the hospital and when he’d finally gotten out he’d learned his wife had filed for a divorce and was about to remarry.

  Merrick opened the file. It was a log of Stillman’s field reports for the past six months.

  “I noticed there’s a lot of data missing. He’s either a lousy bookkeeper, or he’s hiding something.”

  Merrick tucked the file under his arm. “Thanks, Peter.”

  “You’re looking good. I’m glad you pulled through your brain surgery. We should go for drinks sometime and catch up.”

  “I don’t drink anymore. But, yeah, when I get back we’ll hook up for dinner.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Out of town on business for a few days. Have we had any security breaches lately?”

  “No. I would be the first to know.”

  Merrick nodded. “I’ll give you a call when I get back. We’ll get together.”

  “Sure thing.”

  When Merrick left he went straight back to his apartment and packed a small bag. As he zipped it shut the cat jumped up on his bed.

  Damn. What to do with the cat?

  With the clock ticking, he found himself calling the one person he knew who would help him in a pinch.

  “Hello, Sarah.”

  “Adolf?”

  “It’s me. I have to go out of town for a while. I have a favor to ask you.”

  “The answer is yes. I’ll see to it that Johanna gets her roses on Saturday.”

  “Thank you. I would appreciate that. There’s one more thing. Can you come over while I’m gone and feed my cat?”

  “You have a cat?”

  “It recently adopted me. So can you? Can you come to the apartment and feed her while I’m away? Oh, and could you buy a litter box, too?”

  “All right. What’s her name?”

  “Name?”

  “The cat’s name? What did you name her?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “She has to have a name.”

  “You name her.”

  “Me?”

  “Why not? Name her whate
ver you want.”

  “I’ll need a key.”

  “I’ll drop one by.” Merrick hung on the line.

  “Is there something else, Adolf?”

  “Ah… I really appreciate you being a good…friend. Thank you, Sarah.”

  “You know I’m always happy to help out any way I can. Friends do that, Adolf.”

  “Ah, yeah, friends. I’ll see you soon.”

  Merrick headed to the flower shop to drop off his spare key and some money for cat food and a litter box. He thanked Sarah again, noticing that her pretty lips were glossy and that she was wearing her hair twisted up in a sexy knot.

  It was late afternoon when he flew out of the airport. He settled into his seat to get some rest but found himself too anxious to sleep. As much as he understood Burgess Stillman’s predicament, he wouldn’t allow him to manipulate Onyxx to clean up his own mess.

  And if anything happened to Ash, Stillman was going to burn in hell. In fact, he would light the match himself.

  He went over Stillman’s log. The first time he missed it, but on the second pass through, he found the skeleton he was hoping for.

  “Shame on you, Stillman. You should have known better.”

  “It’s good to hear from you, Filip. Are you in Budapest?”

  “Yes. We got in yesterday.”

  “And did you make contact with Salavich?”

  The Chameleon stood on the tower balcony, smoking one of his favorite Cuban cigars. The sun was up and the sky was as blue as the sea. He was enjoying the morning, anticipating another victory.

  “No. We were ambushed before we got there and I was shot.”

  “But alive. I hope for your sake, Nightingale is also alive?”

  “Yes. You never mentioned she was being followed.”

  “I don’t believe that she is.”

  “Then maybe Salavich has decided to double-cross you.”

  “It’s a possibility, but unlikely. He’s being paid well for his talent in the past. And these days he is always in need of money.”

  “You don’t have a price on my head, do you?”

  “Of course not. At the moment you’re the key to my next victory. That would be reckless of me. Besides, I promised you a future, Filip.”

  “I need time to get back on my feet before this can go forward.”