Elite Ops Complete Series

by Lora Leigh

  She wondered if the bastard had actually kept files. How insane would that be for an assassin—to actually keep records? Of course, if he had, perhaps they held a clue to who or what Warbucks actually was.

  “I rather doubt Orion had much to say about me,” she finally said quietly. “What could he know other than how deep to slice my wrists to keep from killing me?”

  She heard the anger that filled her tone, the edge of bitterness. And she was angry, just as she was bitter. Orion’s death had been stolen from her. For so many years she had dreamed of being the one to pull the trigger and blow his fucking head off. She’d deserved the chance to do it. She had deserved the right to call his life her own.

  “Orion wasn’t that easy to find,” he finally told her soberly, his gray eyes serious as he wrapped his hands around the coffee cup. “You couldn’t have done it on your own. He wouldn’t have allowed the payoffs to continue from whoever sent those deposits to assure that you weren’t killed. You were becoming a risk to him, baby.”

  She had meant to become a risk. She had wanted him to come after her, to make that first move that she could have used to identify him and kill him herself. “What do you mean by that?” She feigned surprise at his statement.

  John clucked his tongue as he shook his head at her. A smile tilted those beautiful male lips and for a second, all she could think about was kissing him, eating those lips until her need for him was sated.

  “You knew he was being paid off to let you live, didn’t you?”

  What to tell him, what not to tell him?

  She smiled back at him. “Where did you get your information?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me everything you knew in Atlanta?” he queried instead. “I helped you, Bailey, I got you out of there. You held back on me.”

  “Information wasn’t part of the deal,” she reminded him coolly as she leaned forward and braced her arms on the table. “You released me without conditions, John, remember that. Now, how did you find out Orion was being paid off?”

  He couldn’t know who had been paying the assassin to not kill—otherwise, he wouldn’t be here pumping her for information. He would be tracking another of Orion’s employers instead.

  “Orion was a very expensive assassin,” he stated. “Only the richest of men, or women, could have afforded his services. He was careful. He was damned good at what he did and he wouldn’t have allowed you to live if he wasn’t being paid handsomely to do so.”

  Bailey tilted her head to the side and watched him curiously for long moments. She’d been right last night: He was here to poke his nose into her business again.

  “I have no idea who was paying him,” she finally admitted.

  “But you knew he was being paid?”

  Bailey tightened her lips for a second before nodding. “I knew. He told me in Russia, when he sliced my wrists. He warned me then to stay out of his way. That he wouldn’t let me live the next time.”

  John’s eyes narrowed dangerously. For a second, just a second, a flashing memory of Trent with that same look on his face, his body tightening protectively when she had been threatened, flashed across her mind.

  “And you continued to search for him?” His voice lowered, became almost guttural with anger.

  Bailey smiled at the sound. “Of course I did. If I backed down every time I was warned to do so, then I wouldn’t have had a career for long, now would I?”

  “You nearly didn’t have one the way it was,” he growled. “Orion was out of your league, Bailey. No lone agent could have taken him out, no matter how good they were. You didn’t have a chance.”

  “So I let you have him.” She rose from the chair and moved back to the coffeemaker, where she collected the pot and returned to refill their cups. “What’s your bitch?”

  She glimpsed the tightening of his jaw, the way his forehead tensed and had to force herself not to grit her teeth. Was it wishful thinking?

  “My bitch is the fact that you haven’t learned your lesson,” he said dangerously. “You’re still trying to bite off more than you can chew.”

  Now, this was just supposition, she thought in amusement. He couldn’t be certain why she had returned home, no matter what he wanted to believe.

  “I was fired from the agency, John, or did you forget that little piece of information?” She shoved the pot back into the coffeemaker before turning to face him once again. “I’m not on assignment here.”

  “You weren’t on assignment in Atlanta, either,” he grunted as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t play games with me, Bailey. We both know why you returned here.”

  Bailey inhaled deeply, gritted her teeth and forced back the anger that rose inside her at his domineering attitude.

  “This is my home, John. Where else was I supposed to go?”

  “The same home you disowned fourteen years ago?” He rose from his chair now and faced her challengingly. “The same home you swore you’d never return to when your father refused to believe that his best friend had killed his wife and daughter? Is that the home you’re talking about here?”

  Control, control. She breathed in once, twice. She wasn’t going to let him crack the shield she had promised herself she would keep in place.

  “That was a long time ago …”

  “Bullshit!” he snarled. “You came back one time, when your parents were killed. After that you began chasing Orion. You suspected he was involved in their deaths, didn’t you?”

  “Was he?” What else had John found when his group had assassinated the assassin? What other files had Orion kept?

  Bailey shook her head slowly. “He was here in Aspen the night they were killed, that was all I ever knew. What did you find?”

  If he’d kept the information that he’d been hired to let her live, then perhaps he had kept other information as well.

  “We found his kill book,” John revealed. “Your father’s name was listed.”

  She swung away from him, her hand covering her lips to hold back the cry that would have slipped from them. She had known. She gripped the counter with her other hand to hold herself up, fighting the tremors that wanted to shake her body. She had known her parents had been murdered by Orion.

  “Why?” She forced the word past her lips. “Why were they killed?”

  She had to fight back the tears that filled her eyes, the pain that clawed at her chest as she felt him moving behind her.

  “Bailey.” His hands gripped her shoulders as he turned her slowly to face him.

  She couldn’t look up at him. Tears were a weakness. Never let them see you cry, her mother had always cautioned. Never show anyone your weakness.

  “Why did he kill them?” She forced the question past her lips as she tried to pull away from him. “What did they know?”

  “You know he wouldn’t have had that information,” he breathed out roughly. “No more than he knew why Warbucks wanted you to live.”

  She froze. This time, she couldn’t hide her reaction, she couldn’t stop the stiffening of her body or the way her gaze jerked to his.

  “That’s why you gave us the information on Orion,” he stated calmly despite the anger that brewed in his eyes. “Isn’t it, Bailey? You cut your losses in Atlanta. You gave us Orion so you could go after Warbucks.”

  When she pulled back from him, he let her go. Shaking her head, she pushed her hands into the pockets of her robe and breathed out heavily.

  “I didn’t know Warbucks was involved,” she finally told him, hating herself because she really hadn’t known. “I didn’t know until after I came back last year. I decided to return to find out who hired Orion. I found Warbucks mentioned in one of Father’s journals. No one knew he kept them, or where they were hidden. He mentioned in several of the journals that he suspected someone among his set of friends was a traitor. The last journal, he had the name Warbucks written and underlined with a question mark beside it.”

  She should have come ho
me sooner, she thought again. It had been a steady refrain since her return. She had come home to find out who had hired Orion; she should have known it was Warbucks. She should have suspected.

  She turned back to John, wishing she could make sense of the need, the demand inside her that she trust him. She didn’t trust anyone; she had learned never to trust that anyone would still be with her tomorrow. They were taken, they were always taken away from her. Or they left.

  “Warbucks is mine,” she told him softly, determined. “You took Orion from me, you won’t take this from me, John. I won’t allow it.”

  “I don’t want to take it from you, Bailey. I want to share it with you.”

  She almost laughed at the thought. “Share it with me? Like you shared with me in Atlanta?” she asked mockingly. “Really, John, what in the hell makes you think I believe you’d want to share anything with me? And even if you did, what about that snazzy little group you work with? I think I counted, what, four, five of you? How’s the Israeli doing, by the way?”

  The Israeli. Her cousin. The bastard. David Abijah had been one of her best friends as well as her cousin. Until his death. Until he’d died and been reborn and hadn’t even had the courtesy to let the last of his family know he was still alive.

  John’s expression never changed. He was good, damned good. His pupils didn’t even dilate.

  “There’s only me,” he finally stated. “And John Vincent’s bodyguard. I’m a broker. I negotiate sales of sensitive information and unique acquisitions. There is no group, and there is no Israeli.”

  “And there is no trust, and therefore, there is no sharing, period.” She smiled sweetly as she turned and walked back to the table to collect her weapon. “You can see yourself out. Please make certain you lock the door on your way.”

  She moved to the doorway, intent on returning to her room and preparing for the day ahead. The life of an heiress wasn’t bonbons and soap operas or even a round of boring parties and expensive dresses. She had to actually shop and socialize with the very people she had grown up despising. That was more nerve racking than chasing spies or avoiding assassins.

  “I could make it worth your while.”

  She paused at the door at the suggestion. Turning her head, she stared at him, her eyes narrowing in consideration. “How so?”

  “John Vincent was contacted several days ago to broker a sale, an acquisition Warbucks is eager to get rid of. I can let you in on this.”

  “And why would you do that?” she drawled mockingly. John Vincent would just let her in on this. There had to be a catch.

  “You’re bluffing.” Wasn’t he?

  “Why else would I be here?” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back against the counter, and stared back at her knowingly. “I’ve been contacted, but the contract isn’t assured. Several other brokers have been contacted as well and there are conditions.”

  “Then why do you need me?”

  That one bothered her. If he’d already been contacted, if he was that close, then why bother even letting her know?

  “Because the contract isn’t assured,” he told her again. “Warbucks will be careful about this transaction and who brokers it. Levels of trust that he has never been known to approach before will be required. And he made you a requirement. According to his offer to broker the deal. You’ll choose the broker.” Surprising. It wasn’t shocking, but it was surprising. She had been working toward this, but she’d had no idea she was so close.

  Warbucks was here in Aspen—she knew that, her father had known it. He was part of a select group of men, men powerful enough that they didn’t have to worry about being caught. Rich enough that they could avoid the laws that governed others.

  “You need an in,” she finally said softly. “A level of trust that the others don’t have. If you’re my lover, then you’re assured of the “in” you need.”

  He inclined his head in agreement. “I need a lover that he trusts. Someone he’s certain wouldn’t betray him. Someone he believes wants vengeance against a government that betrayed them one time too many. You’re my ace, Bailey. But my question here is, why does Warbucks trust you now?”

  Bailey licked her lips as she inhaled slowly, evenly. This was more than she could have hoped for. It was definitely more than she’d expected.

  She had worked for this for a year. Days and nights of acquiring just the right information and placing it in the ears that she knew would lead to Warbucks.

  She had no idea who he was, not yet. But she was getting closer. This was proof of that fact.

  “Warbucks trusts no one,” she finally answered him. “If he did, he would have been identified by now. He doesn’t trust me. He’s testing me.”

  “Why?” John leaned forward, his gaze intent, probing. “Why test you and no one else? Why has he focused on you?”

  Pursing her lips, she leaned back in her chair before breathing in deeply.

  “Because I have something he needs as well as something he wants. When you’re going fishing, John, you have to have the right bait. Right now, I have the perfect bait.”

  Fate. Bailey believed in it as she believed in few things. Some things were just fated. From birth she had been destined to come face to face with Warbucks.

  For years the traitor had paid to keep her alive. She wasn’t always certain why, but she had suspicions. Her fortune was part of it. The Serborne fortune was lost forever if she died without an heir. A husband or a child. That meant that somehow Warbucks was tied to the six men who were a part of the Serborne holdings, the committee her father had set up to run the business holdings for her. One of those men was Ford Grace. But there had to be more to it as well. It wasn’t just the money. It was the information and the protection she had provided over the past years. It was the game she had been playing with a traitor. A killer.

  John shook his head slowly. “This is what you’ve been working toward for a year, isn’t it, Bailey? You’ve planned this.”

  Bailey let a smile touch her lips. “Well, I have to admit, I was hoping for more than such an asinine test. Warbucks likes to play games, but this is going a bit far.”

  She had no doubt Warbucks didn’t know exactly what he was doing, though.

  John’s lips tightened in irritation. She could see the anger brewing in his eyes, building inside him. He looked like he was ready to explode. For a moment Bailey felt the familiar excitement surge inside her. It was sexual, sensual, dangerous. She had just pushed past a boundary she had somehow instinctively known had a limit. She had made herself a target.

  Inhaling slowly, deeply, she watched as he rose from his chair, his expression hardening.

  “Tell me, Bailey, exactly how did you convince a man like Warbucks to test you? To believe he could trust you?” His hands flattened on the table as he glared back at her. “What have you done, Bailey?”

  The sound of his voice sent a rush of sensation tearing up her spine. It was like a ghostly finger of pleasure. It radiated to the back of her neck where it seemed to explode in pleasure and excitement.

  “What have I done?” The words were pushed between gritted teeth. She smiled again. A tight, furious smile. “I found his weakness, John. Information. Contacts. The type that can lead him to prizes far richer than he’s had before. Prizes he can only obtain through me.”

  “Prizes like CROSSFIRE?” he snapped.

  Bailey blinked back at him in surprise. “CROSSFIRE? The missiles?”

  “The missiles,” he snarled back. “Did you give those to him, Bailey?”

  Bailey shook her head, realization dawning. “He has CROSSFIRE?”

  “He does.”

  She nodded slowly. “He has the missiles, but guess what?”

  John straightened. “What?”

  “Warbucks needs me now, John. He has the missiles, but only I can provide authenticity to the sell, lover.” Her smile was pure amusement. She had him now. Warbucks would be hers. “You see, he has the missiles, possibly the l
auncher. But what he doesn’t have is what any buyer will demand.”

  “And that is?”

  “The key to unlock the firing mechanism. And that is something that only I can get for him.”

  Bailey rose to her feet. She could taste the triumph now. After all these years, the blood Warbucks had spilled, the deaths he had ordered. He was finally going to pay.

  “You see,” she continued, “those missiles were developed originally as a toy for the CIA. I was there during its first test and I made sure I knew all there was to know about it. I have the code. And I’m the only one he can come to for it.”

  “So why not torture you to get it?” The anger was barely contained now. Bailey could almost taste it, it was pouring from him.

  “It doesn’t work that way,” she laughed lightly. “Remember that Serborne fortune? He can’t jeopardize that just yet. First he’ll see if I’m as good as I’m pretending to be. He’ll test me. He’ll see if I’m ready to join him or betray him. He’ll pull me in, implicate me, get me where he thinks he wants me. He thinks he has me where he wants me now. I guess he didn’t bargain on you, huh?”

  She loved it. She had worked for it. So many years playing both sides, protecting a traitor, fighting to learn his identity before he decided to kill her.

  “Do you know what you’ve done?”

  Before she could avoid him, John moved around the table, gripped her shoulders, and jerked her against him. “Do you realize the risk you’ve taken?”

  She stared back at him. “I succeeded.”

  “Bullshit!”

  Her eyes widened. “He needs me now. He had no choice but to let me in. He can’t kill me. There’s no way to get rid of me. You’re just pissed because you can’t have the upper hand. Admit it, John, you hate it because I did what you and your nifty little group of boys couldn’t do. I got close enough to Warbucks to tempt him. He’s mine.”

  “He’ll kill you,” John snapped.

  “Then I guess you’ll just have to protect me.” She moved against him, let her lower stomach cushion his denim-covered cock as her hands smoothed up his chest. “Wanna be my bodyguard?”