Undercover with a SEAL

by Cindy Dees

  “Absolutely. He plays fantasy football online all the time. Says he makes good money at it, too.”

  Ashe grinned. “Excellent. I’ll give Jennie a buzz. She’s never met a firewall she couldn’t bust through.”

  He and Bastien spent the next hour picking Hank’s brain about Vitaly’s routines and behaviors in various scenarios at the bar. Gradually a picture unfolded of the best time to hit the safe. If they could create some sort of bar fight that carried over into the lap dance lounge, particularly if certain influential, regular customers were in the lounge at the time, they could guarantee Vitaly’s absence from the office for five to ten minutes, if not more.

  Apparently, Vitaly carried out the money every Saturday night after the club closed. They would make their move just before that, then, when there would be maximum cash in the safe. The distraction would have to be low-tech, however. Nothing that would raise KGB-trained Vitaly’s suspicions.

  Ashe made copious notes and enlisted Jennie’s help. She was insulted at the insinuation that she might not be able to teach them how to take down Vitaly’s security cameras from the guy’s laptop computer. They rehearsed the plan until Hank looked like she might scream if she had to walk through it again.

  And then it was time for Hank to go to work on Friday. Robbery day minus one. It was also time for Ashe to make another appearance in the club, too. He dressed in a black-on-black suit tonight. His tie, gunmetal gray, was the only relief from the black dress shirt, black trousers and impeccably tailored black jacket.

  “Wow,” Hank breathed as she emerged from the bathroom in her usual slut-kitten ensemble of skimpy tank top and pleated leather miniskirt. “You look fantastic, Ashe.”

  “You like the dark, dangerous criminal type, huh?”

  “No. I just like you.” Her gaze skittered away shyly from him.

  Something warm and possessive seeped outward from his belly toward his extremities. He reached out to stroke her jaw with the back of his knuckles. “I like you, too, kitten.”

  Pink flushed her cheeks as she stared down fixedly toward their shoes. He would love to take her to bed right now. To make slow, sweet love to her all night long. To hell with Vitaly and his damned club. Let the FBI deal with the guy—

  Whoa. Since when did he get an urge to just walk away from a job? He lived for the job, dammit. Finding her brother mattered to Hank. Therefore, it mattered to him. Privately, he was convinced either the guy was part of the mob organization Vitaly worked for, or the same organization had killed her brother and dumped his body somewhere it would never be found.

  Either way, the outcome was going to suck for Hank. If only he could talk her out of pursuing her brother with such dogged determination. Whether he would call it loyalty on her part or sheer stubbornness, he didn’t know and could care less. His first and only priority was to keep her safe. Hence, his refusal to let her act as the safecracker.

  He tipped her chin up to kiss her. He’d intended only to brush her lips gently, but the moment their mouths met, she surged forward into him and up into the kiss. He caught her up against him, savoring how warm and vibrant her body felt in his arms. How alive she made him feel.

  Her tongue stroked at his mouth, and he wasn’t about to deny her. He opened his mouth, and their tongues and teeth clashed in rapidly growing passion. One of his hands slid down and then back up again, underneath her sassy little skirt. Her tush was pert and firm, and he cupped it with pure masculine appreciation.

  Her hips rocked forward, pressing her belly against the zipper of his dress pants. “I want you, too,” he muttered into her mouth. “We’ll be late—”

  “Let Vitaly wait. He told me to keep you happy.”

  “By having frequent hot sex with me?”

  “Yes. That,” she panted, her hand fumbling at his zipper.

  He backed her up against the wall and tore her panties down her luscious thighs. She kicked them off one of her feet. And then he was lifting her to him as her hands frantically freed him from slacks and boxer briefs.

  Her right leg wrapped urgently around his waist, and he found her entrance with his throbbing erection. He thrust deeply into her and she groaned under her breath, imploring him to do that again.

  He withdrew and thrust up hard, lifting her almost off her lone foot supporting her weight. He pressed so deep within her he thought he might not be able to stand it. Her body was hot and tight and slick and clutched at him like she never wanted to let him go. Another hard thrust and another long groan. Although whether it issued from her throat or his, he wasn’t sure.

  Bless her, she merely wrapped her leg more securely around his waist and held onto his neck even more tightly with her slender arms. She was leaving her body entirely open to him in blatant invitation to take all he wanted from her.

  Except tonight, he wanted to give something to her, too. He withdrew once more, this time plunging to the hilt more deliberately, drawing out the stroke for her maximum pleasure. Again and again he stroked her body, fanning it into a frenzy upon his flesh.

  Her limbs moved more restlessly, more disjointedly. The sounds issuing from her throat grew hoarser and took on a quality of raw delight that drove him out of his mind. He had no intention of finding release alone, however, and gritted his teeth as his own body began to demand relief from the torturous pleasure threatening to engulf him.

  Hank tensed against him. Her breath caught and her entire being went still. And then all of a sudden, she shuddered violently against him, crying out wordlessly as a massive orgasm overtook her. It was, bar none, the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and it sent him over the edge without warning.

  He muffled his own shout of pleasure against her neck as even their heaving breaths synchronized. Their bodies were completely simpatico with one another.

  Hank gradually went boneless in his arms. He kissed her neck softly and lifted his head to stare down at her sleepy eyes. “You’re going to have to do your hair again. And your lipstick.”

  She laughed a little. “I can see. You’re wearing all of mine. And may I say, it’s a fabulous shade on you.”

  Ashe gently lowered her leg to the floor, and they crowded together into the small bathroom to set themselves to rights after their impromptu sex. He backed out to give her some extra privacy and strolled into the kitchen to have a word with Bastien.

  “Hey, Catfish. I’ve had an idea for how we can create the diversion we need to break into that safe...”

  Bastien was chuckling by the time he finished explaining his idea. “I’ll get the stuff we need, Hollywood, if you’ll talk Hank into doing her part.”

  “She’ll do it for me.”

  “I’ll do what for you?” she asked from the doorway.

  He looked up quickly, taking in the slightly swollen lips and sleepy look of satisfaction lurking in her gaze. He knew the feeling.

  “You’re going to help Bastien set up the diversion tomorrow night at the club.”

  “How?”

  “You’re going to drop ice cubes in a few drinks.”

  She frowned. “I put ice in drinks all the time. How’s that going to start a fight?”

  “You’ll see.” He grinned mysteriously at her. Yup, this was going to be fun. He turned his attention back to Bastien. “Last thing we’ll need is a digital descrambler to figure out that middle number in the safe combination.”

  “I got you covered, bro. This is my town, remember?”

  Ashe grinned. “Don’t let me down.”

  “Have I ever?”

  “Nope. And that’s why I trust you.”

  * * *

  Hank winced at the exchange between the two men. Ashe wasn’t kidding when he said he valued honesty above all else in the world. Too bad she couldn’t be completely upfront with him. But no way would he help her find her brother if she spilled all her family’s secrets.

  They weren’t her secrets to tell, though. They’d belonged first to her father and now to her older brother. She seriously
doubted that Ashe would forgive her if and when he found out the depth of her deception. She turned away, heading for the van lest he spot the worry in her eyes. He was far too perceptive and read her far too well for her to hide it from him. What was she going to do?

  Every day she waited to tell him the truth, the worse it got. She should have told him that first night when she’d pepper-sprayed him and he’d barged into her apartment. But he’d been so intimidating, and so crazy attractive, that she hadn’t wanted to say anything to chase him away. At the time, she’d thought not being forthcoming was for a good cause. She really did need to find Max, and she really did need Ashe’s help.

  But now, she wasn’t so sure she’d done the right thing.

  One thing she knew for sure: it was a huge mistake to rob Vitaly. Ashe and Bastien were so confident in their own skills that they continued to underestimate her boss. The guy was really dangerous. Even if Ashe was equally dangerous, which she sincerely hoped he was, a direct clash between the two men could destroy them both.

  In a pensive mood, she rode across town beside him. After a quick sound check of her microphone and earbud, Ashe helped her out of the van. He walked with her the last few blocks on foot to the Who Do Voodoo, which was a nice change. With him beside her, she didn’t worry about who might be lurking in the shadows in this section of town. He carried a box about the size of a shoebox under his left arm. He said nothing about it, so she didn’t ask. She’d grown up knowing how not to ask questions that might have awkward answers.

  Ashe paused across the street from the club. “Ready?” he murmured.

  She took a deep breath. She hoped in a few more days she would never have to lay eyes on this place again. She just had to take it one day at a time.

  “Let’s do it,” she mumbled back.

  “You may be the bravest woman I’ve ever met.”

  “Hah. Then you never met my mother. She never complained, not once, about her paralysis. She was completely helpless and lived in constant pain, and she never did anything but smile and put up a hell of a fight to live.”

  “She’d be proud of you now,” he said softly.

  “God, I hope so.”

  Ashe smiled down at her. A genuine smile, filled with pride. She blinked up at him, more than a little stunned. Words of praise and looks of approval like the one he was giving her now were completely foreign things to her. She honestly didn’t know how to react to them.

  “You remember what you’re supposed to do tonight?” he murmured.

  “Plant that radio thingy somewhere in Vitaly’s office where he won’t spot it. Ideally, close to the safe at or above the level of its lock, so you can help me hack the safe combination tomorrow night.”

  “Perfect. And don’t get caught.”

  “Duh.” She rolled her eyes at him.

  Smirking, he dragged her up against his side and growled playfully, “Don’t get fresh with me, young lady.”

  And so it was that they were laughing at each other when they stepped into the Voodoo. Ashe’s arm only reluctantly peeled away from her side after she caught Vitaly glaring at her and muttered something about having to go to work.

  “Nice of you to join us,” her boss snapped as she hurried toward the storeroom to get her apron.

  “You told me to keep him happy. He got frisky and made me late for work.” A week ago, she would never have dreamed of being so bold with her boss. Funny how Ashe’s courage and fearlessness were rubbing off on her.

  Which was not necessarily a good thing. She was already too impulsive for her own good. And even though he was one heck of a man to have at her back, she was wary of developing a false sense of safety with him around to bail her out of any messes she got herself into. Still, gratitude and affection flowed through her that he would try to save her from herself.

  “Wow. That’s the smile of a woman in love,” one of the other waitresses teased.

  Hank started. “Oh. Sorry I’m late and that you had to cover my tables. I’ll cover yours if you want to take an extra break.”

  “Nah, that’s okay. There’s a new dancer, and the patrons are drinking and tipping like crazy tonight.”

  “How old is she?” Hank asked drily.

  The other waitress pulled a face. “I swear this one’s not older than sixteen. She’s barely sprouting breasts, for crying out loud.” She lowered her voice to a bare whisper. “If I didn’t need this job so bad, I’d turn in the bastard myself.”

  Hank murmured back, “I’m looking for a new job. If I hear of anything promising, I’ll send it your way.”

  “Thanks. You’re a peach.”

  “Hey!” Vitaly shouted from the bar. “You two chicks gonna wait tables or is that Waitress Wanted sign going back in the window?”

  Hank and the other waitress shared eye rolls and waded out into the grope-fest.

  Like the last time Ashe had come in here, the quantity and intrusiveness of gropes tailed off rapidly to nearly nothing. Only the drunkest and most oblivious patrons in the club even threw her lewd looks, let alone touched her.

  How Ashe did it, she hadn’t the slightest idea. He never spoke to any of the other men, never did anything physical to stake a claim on her. He just sat in the corner and...watched her. And all the other men backed the hell away. Her tips sucked, but she wasn’t complaining. The evening was blessedly without incident.

  At about midnight, there was some sort of fuss in the lap dance lounge, and Vitaly left his office to take care of the problem. Hank happened to be standing right by the office door when her boss strode out of his office, and it was a piece of cake to slip into the abandoned office and push the door mostly closed. It didn’t hurt that doing such things had been second nature to her since childhood, after all.

  She looked around fast, searching for a hiding place near the safe. Up high. Out of sight. She spied an old-fashioned radio backed into the corner of a tall wooden bookcase, right next to the cabinet that hid the safe. A thick layer of dust on both radio and surrounding shelf indicated that Vitaly never touched the boxy antique.

  Being careful not to disturb the dust, she slipped her hand behind the radio, setting up the transmitter, which was about the size of a pack of cigarettes. She stepped back to check her work. Not a trace of disturbance in the gray dust. She hurried back to the door to peek out. Crap. Vitaly had just stepped out of the lap dance lounge and was headed straight this way. Panic leaped in her throat.

  She muttered into her microphone, “Crud. I need Vitaly distracted.”

  “Hey, Vitaly, my friend!” Ashe called loudly as her boss walked past his table. “Drink with me.”

  Vitaly turned to face Ashe, and she used the moment to slip out and put the door back to where it originally had been. Bless Ashe for the quick reaction. Heart racing, she slid down the bar away from the incriminating door.

  “Hank! Chilled vodka glasses for us!” Ashe called to her.

  She nodded and hurried to fill a bowl with crushed ice. She was surprised to see the box that Ashe had carried with him open on the table. A bottle that looked like cut crystal was nestled in dark blue velvet inside the box.

  She listened as Ashe explained in Russian that this was the special reserve vodka served to the elite insiders at the top of the Kremlin hierarchy. Apparently it wasn’t for sale at any price to any outsider.

  “Then how do you have a bottle of it?” Vitaly demanded.

  Ashe shrugged as he broke the seal and poured two shots of vodka. “It is all in who you know, my friend, is it not?”

  Vitaly took the shot glass Ashe offered him and raised it. “To good friends. And profitable business dealings.”

  Ashe grinned and tipped back his shot glass.

  Vitaly swore in Russian and then breathed in English, “Nectar of the gods.”

  Ashe spared a glance in her direction. The question in his eyes was clear. Had she successfully planted the transmitter? She nodded infinitesimally. “Keep the ice coming, baby. Makes the vodka bite a
ll the hotter. Like you. Cool on the outside. Sizzling hot on the inside.”

  She blinked at him, startled. He was dropping compliments in front of her boss?

  “You like my girl?” Vitaly asked in Russian. “Maybe I should think about moving her upstairs when you’re done with her.”

  Hank’s horrified gaze shot to her boss. Only belatedly did she realize that she was not supposed to have understood what he’d just said. Thankfully, Vitaly was looking at Ashe, studying him intently, in fact, as if measuring Ashe’s reaction to that comment.

  To the vast credit of his iron self-control, Ashe merely shrugged. He commented lightly, “She’s too classy for a two-bit whorehouse like this. She’ll bring in big money if you move her uptown.”

  Vitaly leaned back, nodding slowly. “It is a thought. Perhaps I will suggest it to my...associates.”

  Hank turned away fast lest she dump the whole damned bowl of melting ice in Vitaly’s lap. Two days. And then this place would be out of business for good. Suddenly she was feeling a whole lot less ethically challenged by the idea of robbing her boss blind. She hoped they took him for a freaking fortune.

  Chapter 12

  Ashe and Vitaly drank together until closing time. Sheesh. She could’ve opened the safe herself in the amount of time that her boss sat out in the club tossing back fancy vodka.

  Ashe declared his intent to take her home and not let her stay behind to help the other waitresses clean up. Hank surreptitiously slipped all of her evening’s tips into the other girls’ purses by way of thanks and then left the club with Ashe.

  Ashe had to be drunk, but he walked arrow-straight down the sidewalk. When they were perhaps two blocks away from the club, she ventured to breathe, “Where are we going?”

  “Take me to the French Quarter. No way should I be driving right now. Your boss can hold booze like nobody I’ve ever seen before.”

  She snorted. “Then you obviously haven’t done much drinking with Russians. They grow up on vodka. Sometimes I wonder if Vitaly’s immune to the stuff.”

  Ashe grinned a little crookedly at her. “I ate a bunch of bread before we left the house, but I think I caught him on an empty stomach. He should feel like crap for most of tomorrow.”