DEADLY GAMES Jaycee Clark 1

by james

  bracketed his mouth and etched his brows and eyes.

  “You are in some very serious trouble,” he said tapping his fingers on the table

  top.

  Ian scanned the crowd. “Pete, the point of the meeting”

  Pete sat up. “You need to die.”

  Ian arched a brow. “Which ‘you’ would you be referring to?”

  The left side of Pete’s mouth lifted in what few would consider a smile. “Dimitri

  Petrolov. Who the hell else?”

  Ian shrugged. “So take care of it.”

  “You need to be seen as close to the job as possible to increase the credibility.”

  Ian tilted his head, scanned the restaurant. Quinlan weaved through some of the

  customers talking to one here, one there. Roth stood at the doorway shaking his head.

  Why didn’t his family take him seriously? They’d had a huge row upstairs. His

  mother’s cold silence to his father could be felt across the room. He hadn’t meant to snap

  out the truth of why he’d left, but damn it, the man could still push all his buttons. Hadn’t

  he learned any control?

  He rubbed his temple. What he wouldn’t give for a beach, sand, a drink. Nothing

  but ocean breeze and the knowledge all was well and…. Rori. Or maybe take her back to

  Scotland.

  “Did you hear what I said?” Pete asked him.

  Ian met his boss’s hazel eyes. “I’m on the tired side. We caught the red-eye out of

  London last night, or would that be this morning.” He sipped his coffee. “What?”

  “Next week, or later this week you fly to Amsterdam. It’s being arranged.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “You’ll go in, walk out the basement, the house will explode and the body they

  find will match dentally with Dimitri Petrolov.”

  He smiled ruefully. “How convenient.”

  “Why’d you come back here?” Pete asked, leaning back as the waitress set a salad

  in front of each of them. “You easily could have sent someone.”

  “I could have yes, but I wanted to ascertain the situation myself.” Ian wasn’t

  hungry. He rubbed his head.

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  “Headache?” Pete asked.

  Undercover agents often went through debriefings, medical tests and

  psychological test to make certain they weren’t too close to the edge.

  Ian wasn’t so certain he would pass as easily as he did the last time.

  “Lack of sleep,” he said.

  Pete asked. “Why the woman?”

  He looked at one of the only men who knew his true identity. Pete was the only

  person Ian ever contacted with information other than John.

  “I needed the image of a family. A family doesn’t leave a memory A single father

  with a silent little girl is another matter.”

  Pete nodded. “True. Who is she?”

  Ian debated and then figured that John had already told his boss who had filled

  Pete in, or then maybe not. But Ian knew Pete already had a file sitting on his desk on one

  Rori Maitland--Kinncaid. She was Rori Kinncaid. Ian studied his boss. Who was the

  leak? Was it Pete? His knee jerk reaction was no. But what if he was wrong?

  “Hired to kill me I believe, but she said things were off, so she didn’t. Saved my

  life in fact. John said she used to work for MI6. Lenora.”

  Pete sniffed. “Lenora Maitland.”

  Tests. He hated fucking tests.

  “Used to be MI6. Now supposedly she’s a businesswoman. Mercenary is the word

  on the streets.”

  Assassin more like, but he wouldn’t cut semantics when he was legit only because

  he worked for the U.S. government.

  Leaning up, he said, “When do I leave? I want your word that my family will be

  protected. I’ll take John with me, but I’m leaving the rest of them and I swear to you

  Pete,” he looked straight into his boss’s eyes. “You don’t want anything happening to my

  family.”

  Pete only returned his stare. “After the way your family was in the news all last

  year? No, I don’t want anything to happen to them. It’s one thing to cover up an obscure,

  unknown death of a traveling businessman. It’s another all together when a well known

  family is hit.” He shook his head. “The media outfall alone would be the end of my

  career.”

  “You’d be worried about more than that,” Ian muttered.

  “Is that a threat?” Pete asked.

  He sighed. “I want the leak, Pete. I want a name.’

  “I’m working on it.” Pete tossed money on the table and said, “Get some rest. You

  need to come in for testing from the looks of things. And for the debriefing. We need

  some intel on the latest shipments.”

  “When this is over.”

  Pete raised a brow.

  “The testing. When this is over.” When this was over, he was done and wouldn’t

  need testing, they both knew it.

  “Eight a.m. I want a brief on my desk on shipments and any laundering, any

  fronting,” Pete said.

  Shipments of girls, drugs he knew about. And the whole reason for his cover to

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  begin with. The fact that many Eastern European brothels and bosses were fronts to a

  deeper worry. Terrorists. Lots of field agents these days thanks to Nine-Eleven.

  At least on the terrorism front, Hellinski had been clean--or mostly. He’d been

  low enough, yet involved enough on rare occasions that information flowed a bit more

  easily than it otherwise would have. Had Elianya been involved on something of that

  scale? Who the fuck knew?

  He nodded.

  When Pete started to stand, he said, “You get anything on Darya?”

  Pete shook his head. “Not yet. But that doesn’t mean anything. And you know

  that.” Those shrewd hazel eyes bore into him. “What are you going to do with her if no

  one claims her?”

  He returned the stare. “What do you think I’m going to do?”

  Pete shook his head. “Just when I think most are too cynical someone will do

  something that shocks me.” The words were said so deadpan Ian knew sarcasm laced

  them.

  Pete stood, then paused, straightening his jacket. “I’m keeping the detail on you

  and I want an itinerary.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Ian watched him walk away, weaving in and out of the

  people.

  He heard a little girl laugh at a nearby table as she ate a chocolate confection piled

  high with whipped cream and strawberries.

  Maybe Darya would like one of those. He motioned to the waitress to box one up

  for him.

  * * * *

  Rori and John sat in the seating area of Mr. and Mrs. Kinncaid’s penthouse

  apartment. The two older kids kept trying to draw Darya into their camaraderie But she

  wasn’t interested in the crayons or markers. She only looked at them when they got out a

  game. Finally, Ryan tilted his head and said, “You’re very quiet.”

  “She doesn’t speak English, Ryan,” Rori told him.

  Jock and Kaitlyn who had been standing off by themselves, talking in hushed

  tones, turned at her words.

  “What do you mean?” Jock asked, frowning.

  The man always frowned. Personally, Rori thought he was an ass. He might have

  some good qualities, but she’d yet to see them.

  “Exactly what I said, Mr. Kinncaid,” she frosted
her words. “Darya doesn’t speak

  English and in fact this is the first we’ve heard her say anything at all.”

  “Ever?” Kaitlyn asked, coming over to sit with Rori at the table. “But she must

  be--what?--five?”

  Rori shrugged. To hell with it. Ian left her up here alone with his family. She’d

  make up her own bloody story. “We honestly don’t know.”

  Their eyes widened, before Kaitlyn frowned again.

  “She’s Ian’s daughter isn’t she?” Kaitlyn asked.

  “Maybe she’s adopted,” Ryan suggested.

  Rori grinned at him. “Right on, boyo. We just adopted her last week.” Rori

  motioned for Darya to come to her and the girl did. She still didn’t know what to do with

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  the girl, but she was becoming used to having her around. And knew, from experience

  what it was to want a safe place.

  Hell, had she ever truly known what a safe place was?

  Darya climbed up into her lap and settled, still clutching the teddy bear.

  “Where’s she from?” Kaitlyn asked.

  Jock reached out to touch the girl and Darya shied, burrowing into Rori.

  She looked up at the man, not caring if he saw her dislike or not. “We’re not

  certain of that either. Though, Ian knows she speaks Russian.”

  John cleared his throat.

  “What?” she asked him. “They asked, I answered. He doesn’t want them to know,

  he should have said something before. I can’t read the man’s bloody mind.”

  John’s lips twitched.

  “How long have you two been married,” Mrs. Kinncaid asked.

  Hell. How had she gotten to this point?

  Was it all Darya? She brushed the girl’s hair with her hand. No. She might tell

  him that. But it was also that smile that she rarely saw, lightning quick and made him

  more … real.

  “Long enough to know he’s difficult,” she evaded.

  John laughed. “That’s our Ian.”

  Mrs. Kinncaid looked past her and Darya to John. “You’ve worked with my son a

  long time haven’t you?” She nodded. “Never mind. He’d never trust any of us with you if

  you weren’t his friend. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure, Mrs. Kinncaid,” John answered.

  Ryan had come up. He put his hand out to Darya. “Would you like to watch TV

  with us?” he pointed to the television.

  She buried her head against Rori, the soft fruity scent of her tickling Rori’s nose.

  Rori hugged her and smiled at Ryan. “Maybe later.”

  The door opened and Ian strode in, looking a bit tired. In his hands was a clear

  container, chocolate, whipped cream and strawberries.

  Darya lifted her head from Rori’s shoulder and watched Ian walk to them, the

  smile on his face one of the real ones he seemed to reserve for Darya alone. The girl

  scrambled off her lap and hurried over to Ian who scooped her up, his Russian throaty and

  deep as he spoke to her.

  Darya smiled and nodded.

  And that smile swirled through the center of Rori. The child was beautiful when

  she smiled like that, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. And Ian….

  His smile alone did more than swirl through the center of her.

  He really could be her father. Same coloring and killer smiles. He set her down at

  the table and put the sugar mountain in front of her.

  “Do you think she needs all of that?” Rori asked.

  His eyes flashed his surprise and a remnant of his smile teased her. “Worried

  about her health, dear?”

  She blinked. Damn man. What did she care? She shrugged. “I suppose so, yes.

  Shouldn’t I be?”

  His smile grew. “Depends.”

  DEADLY GAMES Jaycee Clark 119

  “On what?” Mrs. Kinncaid asked. “Mothers try to keep the kids healthy and the

  fathers are stuck on spoiling them. You’re as bad as your father.”

  His smile slid away, his eyes going cold. “I’m much worse, Mother.”

  With that, he walked into the kitchen and retrieved a fork.

  Rori had wondered, why, if they had the entire hotel, a restaurant … probably

  several, and room service at their disposal--why would they need the large kitchen in their

  apartment and she bet all the other penthouse/apartments had the same layout.

  “How’d the meeting go?” his mother asked.

  The edge of his mouth lifted but his eyes, as they shifted to Rori were serious.

  “Fine.”

  A single word, yet she understood they’d discuss it later. Wonder what his dear

  boss had thought of her?

  She watched him open the container and scoop up a big bite for Darya. He said

  something to her in Russian as he fed her the enormous spoonful.

  Darya nodded just before her eyes shifted to Rori.

  She saw what he was doing and instinct had her tensing ready to strike, but she

  waited, even as she knew.

  His hand, quick as a snake, whipped up and bopped a dollop of chocolate drizzled

  whipped cream on her nose.

  His grin and Darya’s were infectious. She smiled, wiped it and licked part of it

  off. His eyes watched her, the blue darkening.

  Her stomach tightened at the memory of their kiss, at the feel of his hands on her.

  She knew his parents watched them, but didn’t give a care.

  Holding her finger out to him, she said, “I’m really not into sweets, but thank

  you.”

  His eyes flashed, but he drew her finger into his mouth. The swirl of his tongue on

  her finger did things in her gut she didn’t want to think about.

  Rori jerked her finger back and said, “I think I’ll go to our room for a bit. I’m

  wiped.”

  She stood.

  Mrs. Kinncaid said, “Ian Rohnan Kinncaid, you are coming home.”

  Rohnan? Rori cocked a brow at him and tried to hide her grin.

  “Mother --”

  Kaitlyn’s green eyes flashed. “Don’t you ‘Mother’ me.” Her fist hit the table.

  “You owe me that at least.”

  His shoulders rose on his inhale and then he speared Rori with a look. He said

  something to Darya in Russian and locked his hand on Rori’s arm, propelling her out of

  the apartments and into the hallway.

  Down the hallway two doors, he shoved his key into the slot and all but kicked the

  door open.

  When it shut, he whirled. “We’re not going to my parents’ house.”

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered if this was what married

  couples did.

  Rori waited. He seemed a bit stressed to her even if he appeared cool and calm. It

  was in the hard lines of his mouth, the way his eyes were narrowed. Then again, perhaps

  DEADLY GAMES Jaycee Clark 120

  she was wrong.

  He rubbed his forehead and muttered something. She vaguely wondered if he got

  headaches like she often did when suddenly the reality of things crashed down on her.

  “You okay?”

  He sighed. “What am I supposed to say to her?”

  She walked to him and put her hands on his shoulders. They were hard as rocks

  under her hands, but still she squeezed and rubbed her thumbs in circular motions. “You

  need some rest.”

  He grunted and tilted his head to the side giving her access to the tightened cords

  of his neck They stood like that for several moments. “You ever get tired of what we do?”

  he
asked softly.

  Her motions paused for a moment. Then she dug her thumbs back in. She started

  to give a blithe remark, but sensed she didn’t have to. “Sometimes yes. I never really like

  what I do, but I also know it was and is necessary on more levels than the average person

  cares to reflect on.”

  “Ever think there’s any redemption for us?”

  “My, aren’t we philosophical tonight.” She sighed. “Would you sit on the couch?”

  He didn’t move. Soft and deep, he said, “I told my boss I was out. After this is

  over, I’m out.”

  She nodded and continued to message his shoulders.

  He took a breath as if to say something, then shook his head. “We can’t go to my

  parents’ house.”

  “Why not?”

  He whirled on her, his eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

  She crossed her arms and ran her gaze over him. He looked so bloody good in

  black she smiled.

  “I find nothing amusing in this situation.”

  Rori waited and then said. “You hadn’t planned on seeing them. They know

  you’re here now. On some level you knew they might learn of your arrival or you never

  would have briefed me on everyone. Secondly, if you don’t go, it only raises more

  questions especially if more find out about you. Three, if your cover is completely blown,

  do you think it matters if you’re with your family or not?”

  “By being to close to them, I make them targets.”

  “And simply being who you are, makes them targets,” she said with brutal

  honesty. His face hardened.

  “I’m not putting them in danger. Damn it!” He shoved a hand through his hair and

  paced away from her, his hands fisted on his hips as he stopped near the window.

  She wondered what it was like to worry about so many people. The only person

  she worried about was Nikko and she really needed to call him before he started his own

  search for her. She knew she had another day or so before he’d really start to worry.

  “Ian,” she said softly, standing her ground. “I don’t know what it’s like to have a

  family, let alone a large one that you feel you have to take care of and protect.” She

  watched him, his jacket caught behind his wrists, the late afternoon slanting through the

  windows. “You’ve done a marvelous job so far. Little Ryan seems to think you’re a super

  hero.”