I Spy a Dark Obsession sa-3

by Jo Davis

  “You will,” she promised him. She believed that with all her soul. “In the meantime, let’s go see your friend.”

  “You’ll go with me?”

  A wistful expression crossed his face and tugged at her heart. This man had no one except Bastian, and someone had tried to take him from Michael. “Of course. Come on.”

  Keeping hold of his hand, she tugged him inside, where a nurse quickly showed them to the cubicle where Bastian lay on a small bed. A butterfly bandage was stark against his tanned forehead, but no other evidence of injuries was present. He looked fine, if a little bored. When they entered, he momentarily brightened, but immediately seemed to withdraw as he watched Michael come in. Katrina wondered again what was going on with these two lately.

  “Hey, buddy, how are you feeling?” Michael let go of Katrina’s hand and sat by Bastian’s bed, unable to hide his worry.

  “I’m fine. Ready to get out of here.” His attention strayed to Katrina and his face brightened again. “Hey there. Checking up on me?”

  She smiled. “Absolutely. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  “Thanks. Me, too.”

  Michael interrupted. “Concussion?”

  “Mild. I only threw up once.” Bastian eyed his friend’s suit. “You’re awful dressed up for someone who’s not back at work yet.”

  “I am now,” Michael said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “This changes everything. I’m here to stay, and I don’t want to hear a word about it, other than ‘you can count on me to be here at your side.’ ”

  Bastian hesitated, appearing ready to argue, then relented. Probably realized it would do no good. “You always can. You know that.”

  “Good. Now, this assassin — did you recognize him?”

  “No, but he’s an amateur.”

  “How so?”

  “Other than the fact that I’m alive with barely a scratch? He thought he was taking out a cop. Demanded to be read his rights.” Bastian gave a short laugh and winced, holding his ribs. “Imagine his surprise to learn we don’t exist, and now neither does he.”

  Michael tapped a finger over his lips thoughtfully. “So, not only is Dietz resorting to amateur hit men, but he’s withholding crucial details. He’s letting his emotions rule, and since we broke up his small army, he’s getting desperate.”

  Bastian agreed. “Before, his goal was the money and power he’d gain from selling the stolen bomb. With those stripped from him, his only goal is revenge. Which makes him even more dangerous.”

  Katrina couldn’t help the shiver that crawled up her spine. “Sounds like you two ought to keep a low profile until Dietz is neutralized.”

  “That’s exactly what we don’t want to do,” Michael said. “If he can’t get to us, we can’t get to him, either. We need to lure him out of his hole, and that means being seen.”

  “With backup always on standby,” Bastian clarified.

  Made sense, but she didn’t like it. Problem was, she couldn’t tell them what to do. They weren’t her men, as much as she wished differently. Even if they were, she silently amended, she still wouldn’t be able to order them around.

  “Knock, knock.” They all looked to see Emma standing in the doorway, concern marring her attempt to appear chipper. “A great big birdie named Blaze told me that our fearless CEO almost got his ass killed. You okay?”

  “Not even close, and I’m fine,” Bastian muttered. Sitting up, he swung his legs off the bed. “That’s it. Somebody tell McKay to sign my papers. I’m going to my office, changing my shirt, and getting some work done like I’d planned to do all along.”

  “You’re going home,” Michael ordered.

  “No, I’m not.” Bastian glared back at his friend, and then addressed the room in general. “In fact, I’m having a drink or three after work, if anyone cares to join me. I’ve earned it.”

  “Whether you want to admit it or not, you’re not going to feel like going out tonight,” their boss insisted. “Wait until tomorrow and we’ll see if you’re up to it.”

  Emma cleared her throat. “I have an idea.” Once she had everyone’s undivided attention, she continued. “Katrina and I had plans to have a few drinks tomorrow after work, but in light of this morning’s attempt on Bastian, my overprotective man has strictly forbidden me to go out without him escorting me.”

  This came as no surprise to Katrina, or anyone else in the room, she figured. Just weeks ago, Dietz had kidnapped Emma and held her hostage when he escaped from one of SHADO’s prison cells. The bastard had intended to kill her before Blaze and some other agents located and rescued her. Emma posed no more threat to Dietz and he had no reason to harm her now, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t, given how unstable Michael and Bastian believed he’d become.

  “What do you have in mind?” Michael asked curiously.

  Emma went on. “A group outing with the five of us — me, Blaze, Katrina, and you two. I know Blaze will be fine with going, and I’m pretty sure Katrina won’t mind having two gorgeous dates.”

  “Mind? Are you kidding?” Katrina teased. “With these guys along, I’m more than capable of amusing myself if you guys get… occupied.”

  Emma grinned. “Great. It’ll be fun! If Bastian is feeling up to it by then, that is.”

  “I don’t know…” Michael began.

  “I’m in,” Bastian said. His smile lit the small room. He smacked his friend on the arm. “Come on, don’t be such a stick in the mud. We’ll have a great time.”

  “Some of us more than others.” The glare Michael shot his friend could have stripped paint off a car.

  Bastian seemed puzzled for a moment, then his face flushed. “You’ll have a blast, I promise.”

  Emma glanced between the two men, a hint of a smirk teasing her lips. “Guaranteed, or your money back.”

  Apparently, Bastian got the comment, but Katrina was lost. If she didn’t get some answers soon about the strange tension between her bosses, she’d scream.

  “I, for one, would adore having two hot men on my arm,” Katrina couldn’t resist saying. Bastian’s eyes twinkled as he grinned at her, and Michael gave her a long, searching look, as though he’d never seen her before. As a woman. Awareness touched all her nerve endings with delicious heat.

  “Fine, I’ll come,” Michael said, relenting. “A regular club, though, not Blaze’s D/s hangout. I don’t think the rest of us are into the public scene.” Everyone nodded in agreement, and Emma laughed.

  “I’ll let him know. How about eight o’clock, drinks and dancing at Daddy’s Money?”

  “Um, the crowd there is kind of young. How about Shakers?” Michael asked the group, and no one seemed to care.

  Emma hugged Bastian, careful not to squeeze too hard. “Don’t overdo it, and get some rest, okay? See you later.”

  After she was gone, Michael turned his attention back to his friend. “You still insist on staying?”

  “Yep. I’m good.” He stood and walked around a bit to demonstrate, his movements stiff but basically functioning near normal. At least on the surface.

  “You’re going to be really sore by tomorrow,” Michael observed. “Maybe too much to dance.”

  His friend shrugged. “We’ll see. If nothing else, I’ll watch. But I’m not about to stay home like Cinderella while you guys shake your booties.”

  “You mean Cinderfella.”

  “You are such an asswipe.”

  Katrina chuckled, following them out of the hospital area as they continued to bicker like a couple of old men. Beneath all the bluster was a real love that shone through between them, something she wasn’t sure they even realized. And she wanted in on that, however possible. Maybe it wasn’t going to happen, but bad odds had never stopped her from trying.

  Their “date” couldn’t get here fast enough.

  Five hundred miles away, Robert Dietz paced the dingy motel room, hands clenched into fists to still their trembling. Rage, his ever-present companion these past few weeks, sli
thered under his skin and expanded, threatening to split him wide open.

  It was almost a separate entity, demanding retribution for the empire he’d held so briefly in his hands and lost.

  No, it wasn’t lost, as one would lose a wallet or a set of car keys. It was taken by Michael Ross. Starched, uptight Michael. Patriot, law-abiding citizen, everybody’s fucking hero. No shades of gray in his narrow world, no room in his tiny brain to understand that sometimes greatness could be achieved only by veering off the path.

  Three bullets at point-blank range should’ve killed the bastard. By the time I’m done screwing with him, he’ll wish they had.

  Maggie’s death had been a good start. Robert should’ve been more patient, played with Michael longer before reaching for the prize. Nothing for it except to rectify that mistake, starting with Bastian Chevalier.

  A key scraped in the lock and he spun to see Tio enter, shutting the door behind him. “Well?” he demanded. “What’s the word?”

  The big, ugly Mexican shook his head. “Our man failed. He’s in custody at SHADO, and Chevalier hardly got a scratch on him.”

  “Goddammit!” The rage exploded, and he swept the lamp and phone from the top of the nearby desk. They hit the floor with a clatter and he stood panting, hands braced on the surface. He needed to destroy something vital, but he was neutered, stuck here in this shithole, hundreds of miles from his target and depending on imbeciles to do his job.

  At least he had the money to pay them, thanks to bounty from false investments funneled into his account by his former partners, Augustine Kosta and Ralph Meyer. While the pair had been arrested and a few of the accounts seized, thankfully not all of the money had been traced.

  Tio was unperturbed, as usual. “What now?”

  He thought for a few moments, reaching for calm, and then slowly straightened. “Continue to have our other contact monitor Chevalier’s movements and wait for an opportunity. Then he’s to strike immediately, make it look like something it isn’t.”

  “Like a bashing?”

  “Exactly. But tell them to leave a special calling card, one Ross won’t fail to identify as my work. Understand?”

  “Yeah.” Tio grinned.

  “And, Tio? I want Chevalier dead,” he said coldly. “If it isn’t done, I’ll be forced to take matters into my own hands. And that will get very messy for everyone.”

  Even Tio would’ve paled, had he been capable. Robert never dirtied his own hands if he could help it.

  To chip away at Michael’s soul until he begged Robert to end him? He’d make an exception.

  “Bastian, wait!”

  Bastian stopped and turned at the sound of a familiar, welcome voice and smiled at Katrina, who jogged to catch up with him. “Hey, Red. What can I do for you?” He had a few thoughts on the matter of what to do for her, none of which were appropriate for a boss to entertain about his beautiful employee.

  Catching up, she gave him the Death Glare. “A couple of things. First, don’t call me Red. The last guy who did that had to get his nose reset.”

  He wasn’t fooled — the touch of humor in her voice betrayed that she wasn’t really angry, and he couldn’t imagine her striking anyone. But he played along. “Ouch. Wouldn’t want to ruin my pretty profile. What’s the second thing?”

  She grinned, and it transformed her face into a vision that awakened his cock. “Have lunch with me?”

  A little burst of happiness lit his previously crappy day, and he warned himself not to get too excited. She was probably already headed in his direction and asked him as an afterthought. “What a coincidence. I was on my way to the cafeteria.”

  “I know. I stopped by your office to ask if you wanted to grab a bite, and your secretary said you’d just left. I’m glad I caught you.”

  “Me, too.” So she had sought him out. Okay, so his entire week was suddenly looking up, and not a moment too soon. “Anything in particular you wanted to talk to me about? Or is the invite purely social?”

  “Mostly social, though I did want to tell you that the new shipment of microchips came in to replace the faulty ones in the cameras.”

  “That’s good.”

  She nodded, then cut him an assessing look. “I also wanted to see how you’re doing. You don’t seem nearly as stiff as you did four days ago.”

  “Worried about me?” The idea warmed him all over.

  “Of course. If anything happens to you, who’ll buy me cheap, fatty lunches at the compound’s roach buffet?”

  He laughed. “There’s an image I needed before I bite into my burger.”

  “Assuming it is, in fact, all beef. How do you really know?”

  “Gross. I think I’ll get a salad. Nobody can fake lettuce.”

  “True.” They walked in comfortable silence for a few moments. “How are you doing?” she asked, more serious now.

  “I’m good. The soreness is almost gone, and I’m ready for our night out whenever it works for everyone else.” Truth was, he couldn’t wait. Michael had been right to badger him into putting it off, though.

  “Tomorrow night?”

  “Sounds perfect. I’ll check with Michael.”

  “Great! I’ll get with Emma, but I’m almost positive it’ll be fine as long as Blaze isn’t working.”

  Bastian thought for a second. “I don’t believe he’s scheduled for an assignment.” And if he was, Bastian would pull him. Selfish but true. He wanted, needed, to get out with his friends for a while, and forget all his worries and disappointments.

  Forget that he and Michael were on Dietz’s hit list — and on the lists of about a dozen more criminals besides. Cheerful thought.

  “Hey, where’d you go?”

  Shaking off the dismal mood threatening to encroach on his break with Katrina, he ushered her into the lunch line. “Somewhere a lot more fun than this building,” he said wryly, covering his lapse. “I can’t remember the last time I went for drinks and dancing with friends.”

  “No wonder, considering how you’ve been taking care of Michael for weeks while he was on the mend, on top of running this place.” She selected a large salad and a drink from the offerings and set it on her tray.

  Following suit, he gave her a sharp look. “I hadn’t realized that was common knowledge among the agents and other staff. About my playing nurse to Michael, I mean.”

  Turning her head, she raised a brow. “Really? Even though you employ a few hundred spies who are trained to find out stuff they shouldn’t know and are the best at what they do?”

  He sighed. “Well, hell.” No telling what else was general knowledge when it came to his feelings for his best friend.

  They reached the cashier. He paid for both lunches in spite of her protest, then followed her into the dining area. Of their own accord, his eyes dipped to the sight of her shapely ass gently swinging, hugged by a pair of crisp, tan dress pants as she walked in front of him. God, what a view. And he was too damned starved for hot, willing flesh to drive himself—

  Abruptly, she stopped and turned. “It’s too loud and crowded in here. Want to go somewhere else?”

  He barely kept from running over her. “Let’s eat in my office,” he said hoarsely. Then cleared his throat. And let’s ditch the food.

  “Okay.”

  During the brief walk, he wondered whether he was so pent up, sexually frustrated, and starved for attention that any beautiful body would do to help him unwind. The sad answer to that was probably yes, but… Katrina was more than a pretty face.

  She was intelligent, possessed a sharp wit, and was poised and confident. For the past few weeks he’d noticed she had a way of looking at him, as though she’d like to learn his every secret, that made his balls tighten and his breathing hitch. And he realized he wanted to answer all the questions in those sultry eyes, and do some learning of his own.

  This was not a woman to be fucked and forgotten. And why did the idea of any man treating her like an object make him want to punch someo
ne?

  Striding past his curious secretary, he led her into his office and closed the door behind them. The large conference table was clear, so he headed for the nearest spot at the end, set down his tray, and took a seat. Katrina settled beside him, at the head of the table, making it easy for them to talk. Cozy.

  “Your office is bigger than Michael’s,” she observed, sticking her straw in a plastic glass of lemonade. “How’d you get so lucky?”

  “When Michael gave me the promotion, we ordered the conference table for closed-door meetings, but he didn’t want the table in his office. He doesn’t like having meetings there.”

  “And you get to be the one to put up with the foot traffic in and out.” Her lips turned up. “Smart of him.”

  He shrugged. “It’s not that bad. I don’t really mind, because the meetings are usually scheduled in advance, unless a crisis arises.”

  “Well, that gives you about ten whole minutes of peace per day,” she teased.

  “Maybe fifteen. Remind me why I wanted this job?”

  “Because it makes you the boss of me? And you’ve got a great view? ”

  Taking a bite of his salad, he pretended to consider. “Both very good reasons. Too bad I don’t get hazard pay anymore, though.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m no longer in the field. I’m an office drone.”

  “That’s hardly fair when you’re in just as much danger as you were before,” she said, scowling.

  “I’d get extra money if I went on assignment, but that doesn’t happen often in my position.” He grinned. “You’re pretty when you’re huffy. And I shouldn’t have said that out loud.”

  “Hey, you won’t hear me complain about receiving a compliment from a sexy man, whether he’s my boss or not.” She gave him a pointed look, the meaning of which was perfectly clear. “And I shouldn’t have said that out loud. Do you mind that I did?”

  “Not at all,” he managed. While his looks wouldn’t break a mirror, it was on the tip of his tongue to say he was far from sexy, but he didn’t want her to think he was fishing. After picking at his salad for a minute, he asked, “We’re friends, right?”