by Julie Kenner
“Good morning.”
She looked up, licking her lips involuntarily. “Good morning.”
He grinned. “Hungry?”
She didn’t look away as she walked toward him. “Starving.”
He slid the pancake onto a plate, turned off the stove, and pulled her to him as she rounded the granite island. “We’ll have to eat first.”
She laughed. “You’re no fun.”
He squeezed her ass, pressed her into the already-impressive erection growing between his legs. Then he lowered his head until his lips were inches from hers. “Really?”
“No.” She was already breathless with her desire for him. “Not really.”
“That’s what I thought.” He captured her mouth in a long, lingering kiss that was as tender as it was all-consuming. “I’m sorry I had to leave you in bed. We have a big day. I wanted to get started.”
“I understand,” she said, trying to will away the wetness between her legs.
He swatted her bottom. “Let’s eat. I think we both need some energy after last night.”
They ate on a table out on the balcony, overlooking the beach where Leo had finally made her his. The sun reflected off the water from a clear blue sky, and the air was scented with the brine of the sea and the strong, black coffee Leo had brewed in the french press. She was in heaven, and she swallowed the last bite of pancake on her plate and closed her eyes, trying to memorize every bit of it.
“What are you thinking?”
She opened her eyes to find Leo studying her. “I was thinking this is a perfect morning. A perfect moment. I was thinking I wish it could last.”
His expression was serious as he nodded. “I know what you mean.”
“But it can’t, can it?” she asked.
“I plan to give you thousands of perfect mornings like this one, Diana.” His voice was hard, his gaze fierce. “But I have work to do first. And we have things we need to talk about.”
She nodded, looking at her hands. “Because you lied.”
“Because I lied,” he said. “And because the reasons I lied are valid.”
“What reasons?” she asked.
“The work that I do is dangerous,” he said. “To me and to anyone who’s part of my life. But that’s not all.”
She looked up. “What else is there?”
He flipped over the knife next to his plate, turning it back and forth. She recognized the fidgeting. It was something Leo did when he was nervous, when he was choosing his words.
“I don’t want this life for you, Diana.”
She looked around, taking in the sea beneath them, the long stretch of pristine sand, the beautiful house. “It doesn’t look like a bad life.”
He scowled. “It’s not all this. It’s strange hours and strange countries. It’s the kind of instability most people can’t imagine. Not the fear of losing your job — fear of losing your life, of being put in prison. And…”
He swallowed hard, and she knew they were finally getting to the crux of his argument. “And?” she prompted.
He shook his head. “You’re better than this, Diana. You should be with someone who has read the classics, who knows Brahms from Beethoven, who knows what it means to live right.”
Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away. The only thing worse than Leo’s confession — this confession — would be to think Diana pitied him. And that wasn’t why she felt like crying, why it felt like someone was scraping out her insides with a pickaxe.
It was because this was Leo, saying he wasn’t good enough, and she knew suddenly that this is what he’d always believed.
All the summer days he’d spent at her parent’s house, playing games of IT on the big lawn while Mozart leaked from the windows of the house.
All the times he came across her reading a book that had been written before either of them were born. Before her parents and grandparents were born.
All the times he’d sat at her dinner table while her father asked questions about college and her future.
She’d never once thought to imagine Leo felt inferior, because she’d never once thought of him that way. But now she saw it all, like a long and painful film whose sadness only fully hit you at the end.
His expression was guarded as she rose from her chair, came around to his side of the table, sat unceremoniously in his lap. His arms slid around her hips, and his face was just inches away. She almost couldn’t breathe with the need to touch her lips to his.
“What does it mean to you to live right, Leo?”
“You know what it means,” he said gruffly.
“I know what it means to me,” she said. “I want to know what it means to you.”
“It means a stable job with a stable paycheck. The kind of job that can’t get you killed or arrested, and dinner at six every night.”
“It sounds terribly boring,” she said. “And not at all the way I would describe living right.”
He looked confused. “How would you describe it?”
She held his face in her palms, looked into his eyes. “As sharing life with the one person in the world I can’t live without, building a future with that person, laughing and crying with that person. I’d describe it as working toward something together, no matter what. My parents have been married since they were twenty-two. When I look at them, I don’t see the house filled with antiques and art, the money they’ve worked so hard to save. I see the love in their eyes. That’s what I want for myself, Leo. And I want it for you, too. I want it with you.”
“You might change your mind,” he said.
She touched her lips to his. “I’ve had twenty-eight years to change my mind, Leo Gage. I think you’re stuck with me.”
“I should be so lucky,” he said. A cloud of worry passed over his features.
“What is it?”
“I want you to live in peace. And that means we have to get Stavros.”
“How do we do that?” she asked.
An aggressive knock sounded from the front door as he opened his mouth to answer. He gently removed her from his lap and stood.
“That will be your answer.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Diana, Braden Kane,” Leo said. “Kane, this is Diana Barrett.”
The man was tall and broad-shouldered, his dark hair cut so short she could could almost see his scalp. His face was perfectly symmetrical, the face of a model or leading man. She sensed it was an illusion, that underneath the cover model exterior he was every bit as dangerous as Leo.
They shook hands, and Leo led Kane into the living room. He looked around, taking in the view beyond the glass, the open architecture, the simple but expensive furnishings. “Nice.”
“It’s not mine.”
She wondered if it was her imagination that Leo sounded defensive. She sensed a kind of camaraderie between the men, but a competition, too, and maybe even a wary kind of distrust. It set her on edge. Antonis Stavros wanted her dead. She didn’t have time for a pissing contest between two Alpha males.
“Who are you?” she asked. “I mean, I know your name, of course. But who are you?”
“Kane is an FBI liaison to Homeland Security.”
“Homeland Security?” That explained the American accent at least. “What does that have to do with… what happened in London?” She had no idea how much Kane knew, and she wasn’t about to spill her guts until she had a better handle on who he was and what he was doing there.
“Let’s just say the US has as much of an investment in seizing the weapons coming into Algiers as England.”
“You said we couldn’t trust the police,” she said to Leo.
“Kane isn’t police.”
“It doesn’t seem that different to me,” she said.
“It is.” A hard edge crept into his voice.
“Tell me how,” she insisted. She didn’t care what Leo did for a living. Her life was on the line, and so was justice for Maggie. She was entitled to answers.
&
nbsp; “I’ve worked with him before. I know him. I trust him.” There was a kind of resignation in his voice, like he didn’t enjoy admitting it. “We need to take out Stavros. It’s the only way to keep you alive, and Kane can help us do that without tipping off someone who might try to kill you first.”
She nodded. “All right.”
Leo’s shoulders relaxed a little, and he turned his attention to Kane. “Where are your men?”
“On site. Ready to go.”
“Good. What’s the plan?”
“Intercept the shipment, take Stavros into custody,” Kane said. “Simple.”
Diana had the feeling it would be anything but simple.
“And we go on our way?” Leo asked.
“That’s our deal.”
Diana looked from one to the other of them, trying to gauge their obviously complicated history. She had no idea how Leo, a career criminal with ties to the London mob, had come to have such a civil relationship with a man who worked for the FBI, but she was beginning to believe she would be glad he did. Braden Kane seemed calm and at ease, completely confident in the upcoming mission.
Leo looked at his phone. “We have less than fourteen hours before the shipment is due to come in.”
“Then we better get going,” Kane said. “You got a car?”
“Wait… we’re driving to Algiers?” Diana asked.
Leo’s eyes darkened. “If I had my way, we wouldn’t be driving anywhere. You would be staying here while we drove to Algiers.”
Diana lifted an eyebrow. “But?”
“But… I’m not leaving you alone in Spain while I go to Algiers, not while Stavros and his men are still on the loose.” He sighed. “So yes, we’re driving to Algiers. Taking a plane is too risky. This is Stavros’ territory. He might have eyes on the airport.”
“Right." It was yet another sign that she was in a whole new world. She couldn’t just hop on a plane, not right now. She had to think like the men hunting her. Had to be on the offensive.
“Which brings us back to the car,” Kane said.
Leo nodded. “Let’s pack up.”
Chapter Seventeen
“I can’t get away from these fucking SUVs,” Kane complained from the back seat. “Suburbans in the States, Rovers in Europe… I was hoping for something… sexier.”
“I’m not Nico Vitale,” Leo said.
“Doesn’t have to be a Ferrari.”
“I’m not Farrell Black.”
“Doesn’t have to be a Lotus either,” Kane said.
Leo sighed. He didn’t want to be Nico Vitale or Farrell Black. Nico was in Thailand now, living more or less off the grid with the woman who had inadvertently caused the fall of the Syndicate. And Farrell’s lifestyle was too stylized for Leo. He didn’t want mansions and security detail, blood and bodyguards.
He was more than happy to be the muscle, but for him blood was a necessary part of the job, not an aphrodisiac like it was for Farrell.
“This is the safest way for us to travel,” Leo said, navigating the Rover toward the seaport. “We could be anybody — a diplomat, an entrepreneur, the UN. It will help us get through customs on the other side.”
He hadn't given voice to his darkest fears about the trip to Algiers. Namely, that they were in a car bound for a notoriously complex political region, one that had become a haven for black market arms and drug dealers, sex traffickers, and terrorists. They’d loaded most of their guns into a hidden compartment in the trunk, but Leo had placed his own weapon under the driver’s seat, unwilling to leave Diana’s safety to chance if they were intercepted. Braden Kane was more obvious — strapping his handgun into a holster at his side — a perk of his FBI badge that would quickly turn into a detriment if the wrong people got ahold of it.
None of it made Leo feel any better about the excursion.
He scanned the crowd as they approached the automobile loading dock for the ferry. There was no reason to believe Stavros expected them to try and get into Algiers, but that didn’t mean it wasn't possible.
And Stavros wasn’t the only thing they had to be worried about. The region was loaded with people who despised Westerners, to say nothing of Kane’s affiliation with the FBI, an association that could either do them tremendous good, or tremendous harm. They were traveling with a beautiful woman, obviously British, another mark against them.
He pulled up to the line of cars waiting to pull onto the ferry, then rolled his shoulders, trying to relax. Diana reached over, touched the back of his neck as if she could sense that he was nervous. The gesture sent a flush of warmth through his body. It was nice until it was followed by a surge of fear at the thought of losing her.
They handed over their passports to a ferry employee and were waved onto the boat without incident. It did nothing to ease his mind. Spain wasn't the problem — Algeria was. Security would be considerably tighter there, and considerably less regulated. The wad of cash in his pocket might help them, but like everything else, it could hurt them as well. Would greed trump pride and principle with the Algerian police?
It was anybody’s guess, and they had no way of knowing until they tried.
The cargo compartment was cavernous and dark, a floating parking garage that was wall to wall cars, motorbikes, and bicycles. They locked the car and stepped into the underside of the boat as it started to pull away from the dock.
The ferry was like a mini cruise ship, and they found a cafe and bought kebabs and water, which they took to the upper deck to eat while Kane flirted with a tall, slender brunette in a short sundress.
The upper deck was crowded with an assortment of people — tourists and parents with their children and young people kissing at the railing. Above them, the cloudless sky seemed infinite as Almeria became smaller on one side of the boat, the Mediterranean stretching toward Morocco and Algeria, still invisible to the naked eye.
He was happy to have the moment alone with Diana. It was a relief to have Kane and his team from the States on their side, but there was never any guarantee when it came to these kinds of operations. Now that he had Diana, it felt like he had something to lose, and he looked over at her, trying to memorize the way her mouth turned up at the corners as she tipped her head to the sun. Her hair blew around her face, barely tamed by the scarf tied around her head. He had the sudden memory of her riding him the night before, her thighs pressing against his hips as she worked her clit against him, pursuing her own pleasure with a ferocity that had surprised him.
He suddenly wanted to freeze time, and he fought the dread seeping through his stomach. He didn’t believe in intuition. This would be a routine operation like so many he’d been part of with Farrell. They would intercept the shipment, Kane would take Antonis Stavros and his men into custody, Leo and Diana would return to London, figure out the logistics of building a life together. Figure out if it was even possible.
He could almost believe it.
When they were done eating, Leo leaned back, stretching his arm across Diana’s shoulders. “It’s a long trip,” he said. “You should try to sleep.”
“Impossible with this view." She looked at the bench. “And this seat.”
He gestured to his lap. “It’s all yours.”
She smiled up at him, then lay down, resting her head across his thighs. He smoothed the curls back from her forehead, stroked her cheek as she closed her eyes with a sigh.
They passed the next ten hours in various states of unrest: Diana dozing on his lap while he closed his eyes behind his sunglasses, he and Kane running down the possibilities in Beni Saf and catching up on news of Farrell, Luca, Nico. The sun swept the sky while they cruised across the channel toward Algeria. By the time they drove off the ferry in Ghazaouet, it was after ten pm, the light of day nothing but a memory.
They were stopped almost immediately by a group of uniformed men carrying weapons. Leo handed over their papers, offering Kane’s driver’s license rather than his FBI ID badge. They would save that for a situation
when the reward outweighed the risk. Three of the police — if that’s what they were — circled the car, eyeing Diana through the window as the fourth flipped through their passports. He wasn’t worried about the authenticity of the documents Hyrum had created for Diana. There were no bar code readers here. No computers.
But this was far more dangerous: a group of armed men with seemingly no oversight, standing between them and the desolate road leading to Beni Saf and the man who wanted to kill the woman he loved.
Leo forced his expression to remain calm even as he calculated how long it would take him to reach the weapon under his seat. Even as he watched every move the men made, prepared to push Diana’s head out of the line of fire and lunge for the gun at the first sign of trouble.
Ten minutes later, the man grudgingly handed back their passports. Leo nodded, put the car in gear, and rolled forward. The car was filled with tension as they made their way along the deserted road leading to the seaside town of Beni Saf. Street lights were few and far between, and Leo quickly became accustomed to driving through long stretches of darkness. He wanted to believe the worst was behind them, but he knew that was about as far from the truth as they could get. There was every possibility of more police as they entered Beni Saf, and even the possibility that they’d been let go so the men could alert Antonis Stavros of their arrival. Leo wasn’t stupid enough to comforted by Kane’s presence. This was an unofficial mission. The Americans owed no loyalty to Leo, and he had no doubt they’d extract their own people and leave he and Diana behind if it was the only way to get out alive.
Which meant he was the only thing really standing between Diana and Stavros.
Fine, he thought. Let him come. Let him try.
They were nearing town when they spotted the next group of police. They weren’t manning a road block but sitting atop cars on the side of the road. They were heavily armed, eyes watchful, bodies ready to pounce as they watched Leo drive past them into the city. He should have been happy they weren’t stopped, but he couldn’t help wondering if it was because Stavros already knew they were there.