Always Look Twice

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Always Look Twice Page 2

by Dawson, Geralyn


  ‘‘They’re watching, Callahan. Don’t be an ass.’’

  Keeping her gun against his skin, Annabelle shifted around to his front, rubbing up against him in such a way that it appeared to casual observers that she was coming on to him. Her beautiful brown eyes snapped and flashed. He dropped his gaze to the full, creamy cleavage displayed by her plunging neckline.

  ‘‘Shooting you might be one of my favorite dreams, but I’d prefer to do it on my own terms, not Radovanovic’s. However . . .’’ She poked him hard with her gun.

  He saw it wasn’t the 9mm SIG she’d always favored, but a red Glock that reminded him of the pistol Matt’s wife, Torie, owned. ‘‘A girly gun? You’re using a girly gun now?’’

  ‘‘It was a gift to match my dress.’’ She slipped her hand into his jacket and lifted his weapon. ‘‘From Rad.’’

  Mark stiffened and everything inside him turned cold. ‘‘For God’s sake, Belle. What are you involved in?’’

  Through the miniature speaker in Mark’s ear, Matt said, ‘‘Mark? Care to share what’s going on? Is a woman holding a gun on you?’’

  ‘‘She’s not a woman. She’s my wife.’’

  Following a long pause, Matt said, ‘‘Another secret wife?’’

  ‘‘Yeah.’’ Mark sighed. ‘‘Unfortunately, this one is still alive.’’

  Annabelle Monroe wondered if she’d brought this disaster on herself. When Paulo Giambelli hired her for this job and handed over his dossier on Radovanovic, she’d been dismayed to read of his connection to the Callahan family. Apparently, Mark had crossed paths with Rad a time or two since his brother’s death, with violent results. Consequently, after reading the file, Annabelle had spent way too much time thinking about Mark.

  Earlier when she first spied that tall, broad-shouldered figure with his thick brown hair and jade green eyes, she had thought she must have conjured him up out of her imagination. Now, faced with the flesh-and-blood man, she decided that all that thinking about him must have kick-started some bad karma and summoned Mark Callahan to Hawaii. ‘‘I’m alive and I plan to stay that way. You’re wired?’’

  He nodded. ‘‘My brothers.’’

  ‘‘They’re on the grounds?’’

  ‘‘They’re close.’’

  ‘‘Good. We might need reinforcements. Now move your buns, Callahan. I told Rad I’d bring you to the pool house.’’

  He planted his feet and hardened his jaw. ‘‘I’m not letting you serve me up like borscht for ol’ Boris.’’

  ‘‘I wasn’t planning to. Once we’re outside, I’ll let you overpower me.’’

  He did a double take. ‘‘You? Miss No-Man-Will-Ever-Get-the-Better-of-Me Monroe?’’

  ‘‘It’s the opportunity you’ve dreamed of for years.’’ Annabelle turned her head and flashed Rad a confident smile. With a quick, deft move that no casual observer would have noted, she showed the Croat that she held both her own gun and Mark’s. Softly, she said, ‘‘He’ll expect us to go downstairs and out through the French doors. He might send backup. We’ll go out through the kitchen on the opposite side of the house.’’

  ‘‘Are you sure—?’’

  ‘‘Don’t argue. Move. Look angry.’’

  Mark shot a killing glare toward his old enemy. ‘‘Not a problem.’’

  Annabelle’s thoughts spun as they descended the staircase, and she analyzed this new development’s effect on her plans. She couldn’t abort the operation. Somewhere on this island, a woman was scheduled to die unless she and her team found a way to prevent it. But neither could she abandon Mark to Radovanovic.

  I’m the only person allowed to kill Mark Callahan.

  She threaded the way through the downstairs crowd, wishing she wore something less eye-catching than fire-engine red. They caught a bit of good luck when the latest female porn superstar entered the room near them, and the crowd surged forward to pay her tribute. Mark and Annabelle took advantage of the opportunity and ducked into the hallway that led to the kitchen.

  As part of her preparations for the evening, Annabelle had obtained and studied blueprints of the house. She knew that Mark would have done the same, so when he moved in front of her, she allowed him to lead the way. He’d served as point man for the unit on most missions, so it was a natural response.

  One that she regretted when instead of continuing toward the door that led outside, he opened the linen-closet door, flipped the light switch, and yanked her in with him.

  Though the closet itself was oversized, shelving filled the majority of the space, leaving them uncomfortably close. ‘‘What are you doing?’’ she hissed.

  ‘‘I’m not going any farther until I’ve heard a Sitrep.’’

  Her gaze narrowed. ‘‘Did we have to do that here?’’

  He held up his hands, palms out. ‘‘Hey, I’m no more anxious to occupy a closet with you than you are with me. Last time we did this, we ended up married.’’

  Annabelle closed her eyes, the memory of that incident alive in her mind as if it were yesterday. It had been a year after she’d officially separated from the army when their special military-intelligence unit reunited for the wedding of their explosives specialist, Jeremy Russo. To this day she couldn’t explain exactly how it had happened. One minute she and Mark had been arguing about NCAA baseball over the groom’s cake, and the next they’d been making out like teenagers on prom night in the coat closet.

  She flushed at the memory. It had been hot in that closet that night, and it was hot in this one now. Callahan always did throw off a huge amount of heat. She smelled the ocean and his usual Armani aftershave on his skin, along with the scent of peppermint on his breath, and the familiar yearning washed through her. Damn the green-eyed devil. Devil Callahan—that’s what people called him in his hometown. When he had confessed that one night in Cozumel after too many margaritas, she had responded that his hometown knew him well. Mark tempted her to sin like no other man she’d ever met—then and now.

  Feeling herself starting to sway toward him, she yanked back and placed her hand against his chest. ‘‘All right, then. You talk first. What brings you to this porn party, Callahan? Looking to start a new career?’’

  He waited a beat, then answered, ‘‘Start? Honey, don’t you know about that video of you and me that’s up on YouTube?’’

  She sucked in a sharp breath before she realized that he had to be jerking her chain. No video of the two of them existed. She set her teeth and waited.

  He sighed. ‘‘Did you notice the woman with Selcer earlier? The beautiful girl in her early twenties with long dark hair, dressed in pink?’’

  ‘‘Yes.’’ The spurt of jealousy that she felt caught Annabelle by surprise. She did her best to ignore it. ‘‘Who is she?’’

  ‘‘Sophia Garza.’’ His hands settled around Annabelle’s waist. ‘‘She’s our host’s current girlfriend, and she’s the reason I’m here. She’s from my hometown, kin to some people I care about. She got in over her head in this business and now she’d like to leave and start over. Selcer has prevented it. We’re here to get her out.’’

  ‘‘You and your brothers and anyone else?’’

  ‘‘We don’t need anyone else.’’ The familiar arrogance had Annabelle rolling her eyes. ‘‘Hell, I could have done it on my own, but Maddie and Torie—my brothers’ wives—insisted Luke and Matt tag along. I think they had plans to redecorate Matt’s lake house and didn’t want him around.’’ He reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. ‘‘That’s my Sitrep. What about you, Belle? What the hell are you doing with Radovanovic?’’

  She didn’t like explaining herself, but she knew this man well enough to realize that doing so would save time in the long run. ‘‘Do you remember Paulo Giambelli?’’

  ‘‘That Italian poliziotto who had the hots for you?’’

  She ignored the dig. ‘‘I’m working for him. He’s private now, and he’s been hired by a couple from Florence to find their da
ughter’s killer. She disappeared from a Black Sea resort and her body turned up in a Sarajevo brothel three months later. A month after that, police in Paris discovered a film of her rape and murder during a raid on a warehouse whose owner had ties to the Russian Mafia.’’

  He exhaled a harsh breath and his hand tightened its grip on her waist. The light in his eyes went agate hard and she could tell he didn’t like her news one little bit. Half a minute ticked away before he spoke in a tone that was low and slow and deadly. ‘‘So, Rad is making snuff films now?’’

  The steady beat of Mark’s heart beneath her palm reassured Annabelle. During their days as members of the unit, he’d been cool as ice during an operation. Under these circumstances, she found it comforting to know that hadn’t changed during the past seven years.

  She licked her lips, then said, ‘‘It’s no surprise that he’s heavily invested in human trafficking. Snuff films are a natural diversification for him. From what I’ve been able to piece together, he’s here to fill a need for technical expertise and to expand distribution.’’

  ‘‘Have you connected him to the dead Italian girl?’’

  ‘‘Not yet, but I expect it’s only a matter of time. I was able to access his private computer and copy files. Paulo is working on the decryption now.’’

  ‘‘I’m tempted to take Radovanovic out tonight,’’ Mark mused.

  ‘‘Bad idea, Callahan. We need to bring down the entire operation, not just the leader. Before you showed up, I was close to working my way onto his team.’’

  He narrowed his gaze for a long five seconds, then spit out, ‘‘How?’’

  Whoa. Why the venom? Annabelle blinked as the likely answer flashed like lightning. He thinks I’m sleeping with Rad.

  Anger rolled through her. She had never whored herself for the job. Why would he believe her line in that particular sand had changed? ‘‘I’m his bodyguard,’’ she fired back.

  He snorted.

  She wanted to hit him. ‘‘Rad wanted extra security while in Hawaii,’’ she reluctantly explained, knowing that doing so would speed things along. ‘‘I opened my own agency in Honolulu a year ago. A big part of our business is providing private security for visitors to the islands. When Paulo learned that Rad had scheduled a trip here, he asked for my help. I contacted Rad and convinced him that my talents could be of use to him while he was in Hawaii.’’

  ‘‘I’ll bet,’’ Mark muttered.

  Annabelle sighed. Mark hadn’t sniped this way on past operations, but then, they hadn’t been on an operation together since the team disbanded. A lot had happened in the intervening years. Like their wedding. Maybe marriage changed even more things than she’d realized. ‘‘Rad is paranoid about security. He liked the idea of having me as the final line of defense.’’

  ‘‘That’s not all he liked.’’

  ‘‘Jealous, Callahan?’’

  ‘‘Don’t be ridiculous.’’

  Yet the tightness in his voice sent a little wave of satisfaction rolling through her. ‘‘You are too jealous.’’

  Seconds ticked by. Then he confessed, ‘‘It pisses me off, Belle. I don’t like you being around Radovanovic at all.’’

  He pulled her against him and nuzzled her neck. ‘‘You smell good. Jasmine, like the pikake bushes outside. Why aren’t you living in that little Kansas hometown of yours selling cupcakes like your sisters?’’

  ‘‘Not cupcakes—kolaches. They’re a Czech pastry.’’

  ‘‘I know that.’’ He nipped at the base of her neck. ‘‘They’re a sweet treat. Just like you.’’

  Annabelle’s brain switched off as electric shivers raced up and down her skin. Instinctively, she arched her neck, allowing him better access to kiss and nibble and lick. Oh, God, she had missed this. Missed him. His right hand released her hip and trailed up to cover her breast at the same time his left hand shifted around behind her and pressed her into his prominent erection. She sucked in a breath as he let out a low groan that ended when he captured her mouth with his.

  Mark. Ah, my Mark.

  Abruptly, he broke off the kiss. ‘‘I need to turn this thing off.’’

  She emerged slowly from a sensual haze. ‘‘From what I remember, that takes at least two days.’’

  ‘‘Asshole,’’ he murmured.

  That wiped away the rest of the fog. ‘‘Excuse me?’’ ‘‘Not you. Matt. My eavesdropping brother is talking in my ear.’’

  ‘‘Oh.’’ The wire. Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment.

  ‘‘Dammit, though, he’s right. This isn’t the time for distractions. Why the hell do you always do that?’’

  ‘‘Me!’’ She shoved him hard enough to rock him backward and he bumped against the shelf.

  ‘‘Ow! Hell, Annabelle, you’re gonna give our position away.’’

  ‘‘I’d like to give you away. Maybe I will take you to the pool house. I look exceptionally good in widow’s black.’’

  He flashed a wide grin, leaned over, and kissed her hard. ‘‘We’d better quit wasting time. Why don’t you—’’

  ‘‘Wait,’’ she interrupted. ‘‘You need to know something else. I’m trying to do more here than infiltrate Rad’s organization. There’s a girl somewhere on this island who will die tonight if I don’t find a way to stop it.’’

  All sign of amusement was wiped from his face. ‘‘Tell me.’’

  ‘‘He’s picked out three men in the industry who he wants to own. I think he’s setting them up to star in their own snuff film tonight so he can blackmail them tomorrow.’’

  ‘‘How do you know this?’’

  ‘‘I put bits and pieces together. I could be wrong, but I doubt it. Mark, I can’t walk away from this. From her.’’

  ‘‘Of course not.’’ He briefly touched her cheek. ‘‘What can I do to help?’’

  ‘‘Other than disappear, I honestly don’t know. I can’t take you to the pool house because Rad will kill you. I’ll have to show up, though, and tell him you got away from me.’’

  ‘‘He won’t be happy about that.’’

  ‘‘No. He’s liable to fire me, and I’ll lose my chance to find out where he is planning to film. Great. Just great.’’ She scowled up at him. ‘‘Thanks for screwing this up, Callahan.’’

  ‘‘Look, maybe it’s best to forget about the entire organization in this instance,’’ Mark suggested. ‘‘Boris Radovanovic needs to be dead. I will go to the pool house, only I’ll be the one doing the killing.’’

  She shook her head. ‘‘You won’t get near him. He has a small army with him. Between his men and Selcer’s, I’m amazed you made it into the house at all.’’

  ‘‘I’m good.’’

  Yes, that he was. Except for the one major way that had torn them apart, Mark Callahan was good at just about everything. ‘‘Then be good some more and come up with a plan that keeps the good guys alive and breathing.’’

  Mark took hold of her hand and absently stroked his thumb across her knuckles. ‘‘How much does Selcer know about this meeting between Rad and his patsies?’’

  ‘‘Very little. Rad plays this all very close to his chest. I wouldn’t have put the clues together if not for the information Paulo provided going into it.’’

  ‘‘Any chance the girl is stashed on this estate?’’

  She shook her head. ‘‘No, I honestly don’t think so. Rad couldn’t set it up without Selcer’s security people knowing something about it. All that concerns them is the party. Their instructions call for them to clear the estate at two a.m., which is business as usual.’’

  She tried to pull her hand away, but he held her tight, his brow knit in thought. After a moment, he sighed. ‘‘All right. Here’s the plan. Matt, you listening? I’ll valiantly escape from Annabelle, then duck back inside and grab Sophia. I’ll get her out on my own. In the meantime, I’m giving the wire to my wife. Y’all are now her assets to control.’’ To Annabelle, he added, ‘‘Does that work for you?�
�’

  Annabelle concluded that he had made a good choice. She would be glad to have the extra backup. ‘‘Yes.’’

  Mark yanked at the studs on his shirt and frowned at something his brother must have said. ‘‘That blows. All right, you stay in position.’’ To Annabelle, he said, ‘‘The fireworks made the gate guards nervous. They’ve added more bodies. Matt thinks it is best I hand Sophia over to him, but Luke is free as of now.’’ He detailed his twin’s location, then added, ‘‘He’ll be happy to explode something if that’ll help.’’

  ‘‘I’ll keep that in mind,’’ she said to Mark. Addressing his brother, she added, ‘‘Here’s a number to call to coordinate with my team. Tell the man who answers the word is ‘pistachio.’ ’’ She recited the phone number as she unfastened the buttons around her neck, then tugged the side zipper of her dress. The red silk spilled to her waist and she heard Mark suck in a breath. Her nipples went hard—she wasn’t wearing a bra.

  ‘‘Damn, Belle,’’ Mark breathed.

  ‘‘Give me the wire, Callahan.’’

  His clothing rustled. ‘‘You’ll need to get it. Be careful with the tape—we need it to stick to your skin, too.’’

  Mindful of the minutes ticking by, Annabelle attempted to be all business as she slipped her hands into the gap of his shirtfront and snaked them around his torso, but she couldn’t help but note the heat of his skin and the firm rip of muscle beneath it. His scent surrounded her and she wanted to fold against him, to press her bare breasts against his naked chest, to rub herself against him like a kitten and purr.

  Good Lord. She blinked in shock at the direction of her thoughts. She had believed she was over this. Over him. ‘‘What’s wrong with me?’’ she muttered beneath her breath.

  ‘‘Don’t ask me,’’ he replied, his tone knowing. ‘‘Same affliction has a hold on me. It’s all I can do to keep my hands off of you.’’

  ‘‘Maybe once this is over, we should see a doctor.’’ She grabbed hold of the small transmitter and tugged it from inside his shirt, pulling the tape away with it.

 

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