Lee (In the Company of Snipers Book 12)

by Irish Winters

  “Let me down,” she whispered hoarsely, her voice suddenly trembling with a need she hadn’t known before. She cleared her throat, hoping to dislodge the idiot stuck in there. Oh, wait. It was her heart.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He complied instantly, but the moment he released her, her traitorous body arched back, seeking the warmth his had offered. His wide male hands dropped to her shoulders to steady her. She stood frozen in the moment, her head bowed and him waiting, her wondering what the hell had just happened.

  Tess honestly couldn’t decide whether to turn around and climb back into his arms, or run and hide from embarrassment. The amateur in her was back, and her heart thumped recklessly in her ears. She shook it off and pulled herself away from him, but damn. When his hands lifted, her shoulders missed his touch.

  He’s committed another act of assault. That’s all. First he kidnaps me. Then he handcuffs me. Then he manhandles me. Only... Tess bit her lip at the lie. Assault had never felt like this before, and she would know.

  Then why am I breathing so hard? Why’s my heart pounding like an Arabian mare on the sand dunes running from her stallion? Why did I—like it? She swallowed hard. An Arabian mare? What an idiotic thought. Like it? Where’d that come from? A stallion? Hardly. More like a wolf. A proud alpha wolf that wasn’t afraid to take on the world even there in wild and lawless Afghanistan.

  Without thinking, she’s become what he’d wanted her to be all along—compliant. Nearly submissive. Flustered, she held out her wrists, ashamed at the blatant sexual flavor to the thoughts spinning through her mind. Her tongue slid over her bottom lip, wondering after a kiss from Lee Hart’s tightly pursed lips

  He cuffed her wrists, but not behind her back this time. Neither did he tug her to follow or steer where he wanted her to go. Agent Hart didn’t touch her again as they walked side-by-side back to the office.

  “I need to wash my hands,” she said when they were nearly there. “That sink back there was too dirty. I didn’t...” She paused, ashamed of herself for sounding so much like a helpless woman.

  “I’ve got hand sanitizer in my gear bag,” he said, his voice extra low. “It’s in the office. You’re welcome to it.”

  A smirk curled Alex’s lip when they came into view. “Took you two long enough.”

  Chapter Five

  “What exactly do you want from me, Mr. Stewart?” Tess asked the moment her butt hit the chair. At least this time, her feet were flat to the floor, her back firmly against the chair spindles.

  Lee went to the gear bag he’d previously left with Alex and pulled out a small bottle of hand cleaner. Toilets in third-world countries were always an unpleasant surprise, so he came prepared. He handed Tess the bottle and resumed his place. The universe had shifted during that brief encounter with her in the dark, and he didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  She might look all prim and proper, squeezing the clear gel onto her hands like she was, and she might act agreeable for the first time tonight, but he knew better. This woman was like every other he’d known, a master manipulator and good at it, a person who said one thing but did another.

  He didn’t like being used, but he did like looking at her. All dressed in black like she was made for a damned attractive package. Although she’d smoothed her hair off her shoulders, it continued to twist in ebony tangles that glinted with hints of brown, blue, and red under the harsh fluorescent tube lighting overhead. The pleasant fragrance of coconut cookies lingered in his nose. She kept licking that lush bottom lip, her tongue pink but those lips definitely moist and red. Ruby red. Tender-looking, too. The only way they could possibly look better would be if they were swollen and wet after a good hard kiss.

  His breathing hitched just imagining his mouth on hers, easing those tender, stubborn lips apart until she let him in. Would she push him away? Jerk him in closer? Resist? Fight? Or would she surrender to him and hold on for dear life? He knew he could please her. He could make her wiggle and groan, maybe scream with female satisfaction.

  God, it had been a long time. He scrubbed a quick hand over his face to erase the erotic images flashing in his hard head. This woman evoked primal instincts in him, a wild call to dominate her, to fight anyone who got between him and her. His hackles lifted with the caveman instinct to bend her over that desk, but God. Lee wasn’t that kind of a guy. Ever. He simply did not fight a woman for sex. Either she wanted him, or she didn’t, and he walked.

  Damn it to hell, he needed to get his mind out of the gutter and back on target. She was a client, an unwilling one at the moment, but still just a job with a definite expiration date—the day he got her safely back to America. With thoughts like these spinning him up, it couldn’t happen soon enough.

  “I want you to agree to our protection,” Alex answered, “but first let’s get those cuffs off.”

  Lee jumped to his feet, glad for something to do besides watch Tess Culver. She’d gotten under his skin in ways he’d not expected. Like a hit of crack, she’d rewired his male brain at first contact. Shit. If the truth were known, he’d been hooked at first sight.

  He removed the cuffs and refastened them to his belt. Miss Culver looked surprised, but didn’t bolt as he’d expected. “Thank you,” she whispered, blinking up at him through those long, lush lashes and sparking the fire in his gut all over again. “I... I really do hate restraints.” Carefully, she handed him the hand sanitizer.

  There seemed to be no air in that big warehouse. It was all Lee could do to tear his gaze from hers, locked onto her like he was. “Me too,” he mumbled hoarsely, like some brain-dead jock while he tossed the sanitizer back into his open bag. He blinked to break her spell, then pulled out a bottle of water from the ice chest Alex kept near the desk. “Here. Looks like you could use a drink.”

  She accepted the dripping wet bottle and blinked those big wide eyes again like a little girl who couldn’t believe the neighborhood bully could be nice. Guilt poked at him. Maybe he had been a little rough.

  “I need to know a few things,” Alex continued like this was nothing more than another business meeting. Like the priceless Dragon Warrior wasn’t sitting on his desk—a couple million dollars of stolen property that could put him in a deep dark Afghan prison.

  “Like?” Tess almost sounded honest. She ran her tongue over her full bottom lip. Lee looked closer. He hadn’t taken his seat, needing to be prepared for another gamble on her part. He’d seen the scared look before, but damn. If this was a trick, she was good. Would Alex fall for it? Lee brushed a hand over his face at his doubt. To hell with Alex. Was Lee falling for it?

  Maybe...

  “Why do you do this?” Alex asked. “Why do you steal?”

  “I don’t just steal,” she replied firmly, her fingers wrapped tight around the plastic water bottle. She had yet to open it and take a drink. “I reacquire what the Taliban have stolen. It’s different. Regardless what you think of me, I’m not a common thief.”

  “I get that. You only steal artifacts from the Taliban. Why?”

  She took a deep breath, gulping when she exhaled. “Is it stealing to take back national treasures from the thieves pillaging my country?”

  “But it’s not your country.” Alex’s eyes narrowed as his voice softened, puzzled.

  “What you’re doing is dangerous,” Lee said bluntly. He didn’t care which country she pledged allegiance to. Stealing from the Taliban was just plain stupid.

  Tess wrinkled her nose. Alex’s calm scrutiny annoyed her, Lee could tell. One minute feisty and the next deadly calm, she was simply winding up for her next shot at home plate. “Do you realize what that crown is?”

  Lee nodded. “A three-thousand-year-old artifact worn by the priest during the sacrifice of the lamb. Discovered at the Tillya Tepe dig. The Golden Hill. Up north near Sheberghan.”

  A glimmer of respect shifted over her face. He couldn’t resist winking at her. Yeah, lady, I know a thing or two.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and continu
ed showing off. “Does the name Victor Sarianidi ring a bell? The Bactrian Hoard?” Lee only knew all of this very precise information because he’d studied the treasures of Afghanistan intensely before this operation. Wikipedia always made him look good, but it also helped him try to figure her out, why she felt the need to become the Robin Hood of this particular country, to steal from the thieves and then to safeguard her treasure for some future day when the poor were strong enough to reclaim it. And why the hell risk her life trying to save Afghanistan? What was so great about this godforsaken country and its hordes of tribal despots?

  Another violet glimmer twinkled in her eye, and he couldn’t help himself. The need to impress her with more than just brute strength overrode his common sense. “Six tombs. Five female mummies. One male. Thousands of gold ornaments worth millions. An archeological treasure to defy all others.”

  She leaned forward, admiration aglow in her eyes, the water bottle clenched in her hands between her knees. His sniper eyes shifted beyond that plastic barrier to the intersecting seams at the crotch of her black pants, worn and lightened from too much wear and washing. Funny. They came together in a perfect X, like the X that marked buried treasure. Big mistake.

  A raging fire burned through his belly, lighting his body up as it surged into muscles and tissues left dormant and unfeeling for too long. Tonight was not a good time to bring them back to life.

  Just being around this woman rattled him, and he had no business looking at her crotch or thinking of her like he was. Of bending her over that desk and stripping her bare, slapping that ass just to see his red handprint on her creamy skin. His handprint. His brand. No one else’s. To hear her mewl with pleasure when he did it.

  Gah! He jerked his eyeballs back to her face, wishing his all-male mind knew when to quit while it was ahead. She brought out the animal in him. When the hell had she gotten the upper hand?

  “Over twenty thousand million,” she purred, a sensual smile tugging her lush red lips.

  He stared her down, ignoring the sizzling sexual energy arcing between them. She had to feel it, too. The feral pull and tug of two bodies enflamed. The hunger. Else, why the scarlet blush creeping up her neck and blossoming over her cheeks?

  She cleared her throat. “I’m impressed, Agent Hart. Not many people understand the Bactrian Hoard. Many of those artifacts date back to the first century. Some to the Bronze Age. I take it you’re a scholar of archeology?”

  Busted! Train wreck. He couldn’t lie, so he hedged. “No, ma’am. Just an interested party.” And a dumbass to think I could fool an expert like you.

  Just that fast, he lost her attention. She straightened and returned her gaze coolly to Alex. “Do you know how many Afghans have even heard of that treasure, much less understand how rich and respected their country once was in the eyes of the world?”

  “Damned few.”

  Tess nodded. “The few in power shouldn’t dictate the legacy of the masses, no matter if the masses might be ignorant at this unfortunate moment in history, Mr. Stewart. That is why I steal. To keep the future within reach of these people. Afghans deserve the chance to learn how great they once were, to see their rich ancient heritage, but it’s being shuttled off to the highest bidder instead of safeguarded and protected for their future. Most of it has already been stolen right from under their noses for paltry silver and gold.”

  “But the curator at the museum was guarding these treasures,” Alex said firmly.

  Tess leaned forward, her weight once again on the balls of her feet.

  Here we go. She’s going to run. Lee gripped the back of the chair in front of him in case he needed to throw it out of his way the second she made a break for it.

  “It’s not the curator I’m stealing from,” Tess said softly. “It’s his assistant, Abdul Sherazi. The man is a liar. He’s hidden some of the greatest treasures from the Taliban inquisition, and now he’s selling them piece by piece to line his pocket.”

  Alex’s brow lifted at that astounding piece of intel. “To who?”

  “To the Taliban banker, Hasim Nizari,” she said it with authority. “Do you doubt me?”

  The name stole Lee’s breath. He hadn’t expected to hear it again. Not tonight. Not from her. The room just got unbearably stifling. His throat drew tight.

  Who didn’t know the psychotic pedophile or that Nizari seemed Teflon-coated? That he’d escaped all attempts to apprehend him? That he still aggravated the US military to no end because they’d searched for him, but couldn’t apprehend him? The man was too well connected. He had a penchant for dressing in linen business suits. His victims said his eyes were dark and soulless, like the blackest night of no stars and no promise of a sunrise. Worst of all—no hope.

  But Lee knew him from another time, before the man’s appetite turned to children. Another blackest night that had nothing to do with ancient treasures.

  A wave of nausea struck. Lee reeled at the force of the memory. He gripped the back of the chair, his fingers tight between the spindles, and he swallowed hard. That other dark room swelled around him once more, offering sights and smells he wanted desperately purged from his soul. He fell back on the only thing one of his many counselors had taught him to do. The only thing that worked.

  He summoned the serene image of an innocent little boy with green eyes tossing the fallen stars and dreams of his youth back up into the night sky where they belonged. Lee drew in a long, deep breath to instill control. To keep the rising panic at bay. With all his heart, he concentrated on the starlight reflected on that sweet kid’s face, his eyes still filled with wonder for the good in the world, because there was good in the world, damn it. Dreams still did come true.

  Lee clung to that scene, the only thing that kept him from falling into outer darkness. One by one, deep breath by deep breath, the child he once was forced every fallen star and dream back into the universe where they belonged. Despite men like Nizari, the world was worth fighting for. The child proved it, standing there and tossing stars like he had faith. Smiling. Offering hope. Bringing peace.

  That Lee could create this vision in his mind proved he was in recovery, that he could overcome the torment that had been visited on his mind and body. He drew in a deep breath, knowing damned well that Alex hadn’t missed his reaction to the mere mention of the madman’s name. That Alex had his back. That he’d covered this misstep like the good spotter he was by keeping Miss Culver’s attention on him and off of Lee.

  Lee swallowed hard and calmed. The power of that ungodly devil faded yet one more time. The present night with Alex and Tess materialized back into focus. Breathing became easier. Lee’s heart rate paced evenly. The suffocating thunder in his head stilled. He could think clearly. The days of living hell were long behind him.

  To prove it to himself, Lee studied their captive cat burglar closer. Tess’s voice had wavered when she’d spoken of Nizari. He had detected fear in her, but it was impossible to see through her mask. Whatever her thoughts were on the subject, they seemed as deeply buried as Lee’s. He dismissed her reaction as just another aspect of this mission that he’d soon forget. He’d already given Alex his two weeks notice. This was his final op and when it was done, Tess Culver would forever be nothing more than a name on his final report.

  “Can you prove it’s Nizari?” Alex asked.

  “Yes.” She moved the water bottle to her left hand and pulled a thumb drive from between her full breasts with two long, delicate fingers, and a lift of her chin that declared her total superiority to the world of men.

  Lee couldn’t help the smile that tweaked his lips. She’d kept that little item hidden well, not that he’d have strip-searched her to find it. Still, he should’ve thought of that. Women had all kinds of interesting hiding places.

  Alex took the USB drive. “What’s on it?”

  “A video of Abdul Sherazi meeting with Hasim Nizari.”

  “Are you sure it’s him?” Alex cocked his head in disbelief, his eyes narrowed.
He shot a flash of concern to Lee.

  “Yes.” Tess followed Alex’s glance to Lee, then settled on Alex again. “Sherazi moves the artifacts he’s stolen from the museum under cover of night. Nizari finds a buyer or passes the treasures onto the black market. That is one way the Taliban is being funded. Watch the video. You’ll see.”

  Alex slipped the thumb drive into his inner suit jacket pocket.

  “So now you believe me?” Tess asked, finally removing the cap from the bottle and lifting it to her lips, her head tilted back and swallowing as she kept her gaze on Alex.

  Lee succumbed to her charm, watching her lips purse to accept the cool drink, her throat working as she swallowed gracefully. The way the hollow at the base of her throat pulsed. The way her hair hung in a shiny riot of black curls off her shoulders and down her back. Only when she finished the drink and licked her lips did he snap out of it. He was thirsty too. Just not for water.

  “Not so fast,” Alex interrupted the magic moment. “Now I’ll verify. Then I may believe. Until I do, you’ll remain in Agent Hart’s custody.”

  Say what? Damn it, Boss. Lee rubbed the day’s stubble on his chin. He hadn’t seen that one coming. Custody meant cuffs, which she seemed to fear. He didn’t want to use them.

  Tess glanced at him, her jaw clenched, looking none too happy with this new development. “When you verify that information, and you will, what will you want from me? Enough of the bluff and bluster and the big talk. You’re not here to protect me. What’s this really all about?”

  Alex uncrossed his legs, his hands on his knees. “I have come here for one purposes only, to save you from yourself. My instructions were to extricate you from this country while there’s still time.”

  She stared at him.

  “You’re damned good at what you do, Miss Culver, but you’re doing it with inept help. Believe me, you’re a marked woman. Your ignorance isn’t heroic—not in this country. It’s foolish. Believe me, Sherazi, Nizari, and the Taliban will catch you, and when they do, they’ll use your dead body to end the honest efforts of others who are more diplomatic at saving relics and artifacts, at safeguarding this nation’s history. You’re right. No one has the right to steal a nation’s cultural heritage, but to fight back with reckless disregard for your own life is nothing but arrogant pride. In the end, you’ll only give the Taliban more fodder for their propaganda machine.”