by Lexi Blake
When the camera made its swing, Sean stepped into the blind spot and made his body as small as possible. Box 220. The box he was looking for was 115. Damn. It was on the other side. It looked like it was in a corner though. The other blind spot.
Sean let the camera swing by twice, getting the motion and timing correct. He hoped that he was right about the security code. There was only one number on that sheet he’d found in Grace’s briefcase that might work. 115-36-2-12. The box number was 115. The rest had to be the code. Taking a deep breath, he followed the camera, staying in the blind spot. Counting, he waited and when the camera swung back, stepped out and located the box, about halfway up. He punched the code in, and the box popped open. He pulled the long metal box out, hugged it to his body and stayed close to the outer wall. In a few minutes, he was back in the mailroom, opening his prize.
And freaking out, just a little.
He was going to kill his brother, his goddamn, closed-mouthed, keeping-secrets brother. This wasn’t about terrorists. And Mr. Black had lied to every one of them. Once again, the Agency was playing a game, and they were the pawns.
They were smack in the middle of a spy game.
* * * *
Evan was perfectly satisfied with the way his brother’s face flushed as he watched the tape. Matt had been mad at first when he entered the office. He’d been angry to discover Evan had been spying on him. Amateur. It was what he did. He’d been a spy for so long, it was second nature to him. Thanks to the good old USA, he wasn’t comfortable unless he knew for damn sure what the people around him were doing.
“What do you want me to do to you?” Johansson’s voice came over the tape. Evan knew what came next.
“Fuck me, Sir.” Grace’s breathy moans made Evan’s dick hard.
He’d never really thought much about his brother’s assistant except for the trouble she could cause. She was a good front on several levels. She wrote out checks without really asking questions. He’d managed to get her to pay the bills on several storage units he didn’t want ties to. But he’d never seen her as a woman. That had been a mistake. She was a total freak. He’d never suspected that. If he had, he would have fucked her a long time ago. Maybe if he had taken her to bed, he wouldn’t have to do what he needed to do now.
“How could she? She barely knows him.” Matt’s face was a mask of pain. His hands clenched on the top of his desk, the same desk where his lady love had screwed the hell out of another man.
“Some women are just natural whores.” Evan shrugged. And some merely required a firm hand. He suspected Grace was the latter. Damn, he should have seen that. He’d always had more trouble reading women than men. “You have to see that she’s not worth your trouble.”
His brother was much easier to manipulate than most women. Matt had always ignored what sat in front of him until someone else wanted it. The minute someone else wanted the toy, or car, or a girl Matt had been ignoring, he bristled up with angry possessiveness. It made him terribly easy to predict.
“Bitch.” Matt’s jaw clenched, but his eyes didn’t leave the screen. Evan looked over his shoulder. They were at the part where Johansson fucked her so hard her tits bounced and her face contorted. She was hot. It would suck to kill her. Maybe he could have a little fun before he did it. Evan quickly discarded the idea. He didn’t have time. There was a lot of money at stake. His retirement was on the line. He’d find someone even hotter once he got to his place in Thailand.
Then there was the fact that she’d followed him today. He might be more worried about it if Sean Johansson was still around. She was curious. She was about to find out what curiosity did to naughty little cats.
Evan reached into his brother’s file cabinet. It was where his alcoholic brother kept the whiskey. He poured him a glass, not the first of the night. Matt accepted it without question and downed it quickly. He sat in his chair as Grace came and the big, blond guy had his fun, too. Evan closed the laptop and looked seriously at his brother.
“She’s going to fuck up everything, you know that, right?”
Matt’s hand shook slightly. “I can’t believe it. She screwed him. She’s always been so stand-offish about touching, but she lets him toss up her skirt in my office.”
Patience. Evan let his brother rant for a few minutes. He was completely missing the point, but then he hadn’t commented at all on the fact that his secretary had obviously been snooping. While Matt raged, Evan pondered the problem of her boyfriend. Evan still wasn’t sure he’d heard the last of him. Johansson, if that was his name, was trained. He doubted he was Agency trained. More than likely he was ex-Special Forces. Corporate spy? It wasn’t unheard of, but his brother’s company had nothing a spy would want…except access to other buildings. No, he suspected that asshole Nelson had caught up with him. He was sure Nelson had introduced himself as Mr. Blue or Mr. Green or whatever color he was hiding behind this week. The whole CIA was one big fucking rainbow.
It wasn’t surprising. Nelson had been his handler. Nelson knew what he was capable of. When he’d disappeared at the end of the last op in Shanghai, Evan had left plenty of evidence that pointed to Patrick Wright’s untimely death. He’d had another identity in place, and then, after a little plastic surgery, had finally settled into being Evan Parnell. It had taken the bastard almost five years to catch up to him, but Nelson was too late.
Evan had the package. He’d taken it last night after his “shift” at the Bryson Building. One fucking shift and he had the prize. Damn, it was good to be back in the States where the pickings were easy. If he had been in China, he’d probably be dead. One little badge and a human resources file and you were in over here. Now all he had to do was hold it together until the drop. Another couple of days and he’d drop the package at the party. His Chinese contact would pick it up. The Chinese government would gain about ten years of aviation technology research, and he’d gain twenty fucking million dollars.
If Sean Johansson and Grace Hawthorne didn’t wreck it for him.
“So what are we going to do about it?”
Finally, an intelligent question passed his brother’s mouth. Evan smiled his best “big brother” smile. “Well, I have some thoughts on that.”
Twenty minutes later, Evan breathed in the night air. It smelled like rain to him. Tomorrow would be a good day for a storm.
Chapter Thirteen
The rain was coming down in sheets, pounding at the window beside her desk as Grace held the phone to her ear. The woman on the other end of the line droned on for what felt like forever before there was a chance to respond. This party was going to kill her. “Yes, I know it’s short notice. Okay, if we can’t do the spare ribs, what can we do? Dumplings sound good. Pork and chicken. All right.”
The conversation dragged on and on. The hotel’s catering liaison was a long-winded woman. She had a story about every single dish she offered.
Sean would just cook. She wondered if Sean cooked Asian. Probably. He’d seemed to really know his way around a kitchen. The French dish he’d cooked had been heavenly. She remembered the rich taste of the sauce and how he’d offered it up to taste from his fingers. Grace had sucked them into her mouth, loving the flavor and texture of him as much as the food.
Stop. Focus. She had to stop allowing thoughts of Sean to occupy her every moment. She’d spent most of the previous night crying over Sean Johansson. She hadn’t slept at all. She was not wasting a perfectly good workday on him as well.
“Orange peel beef. Got it.” She thought that was a yes on the beef. Maybe the woman had told her she couldn’t. Damn it, she had to get her head in the game. She had mere days before this party, and Matt was already in a crappy mood. If this went to hell, she wouldn’t be able to work with him.
“Listen, Sue, why don’t you just e-mail me a list? I trust you, and I know you’ll do the best you can on the time you have. As for the drinks, Matt wants an open bar.” Big surprise there. Lately Matt’s life seemed like one big open bar. �
�Can you take care of the bartenders?”
Twenty minutes and negotiations on how many bartenders they would need later, Grace managed to get off the phone. It had been a productive day so far. The party was going to be fine. The contract with the Bryson Building had already started, and hopefully the money would start rolling in. They would need it to cover the party.
“Hey, you.” Kayla smiled down at her. She looked around the office. “Where’s that hunk of yours? It’s almost three. Shouldn’t he be rushing in with your afternoon coffee so you don’t have to hurt your dainty toes by walking? I haven’t seen him around.” She leaned in with a little grin on her face. “Do you have him tied up somewhere?”
He hadn’t even tied her up. They hadn’t gotten that far. Grace took a deep breath and tried for a casual smile. “He went back to Chicago.”
Kayla’s face fell. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s no big deal. It was a fling. I thought you would be happy. I’m slutting it up a little bit.” She kept her voice light, trying to breeze her way through this encounter.
It was obvious her friend wasn’t buying her tough chick act. Kayla pulled her out of her chair and hugged her. “You wouldn’t even know how to slut it up, hon. If you were sleeping with him, you were involved. Are you going to see him again?”
Grace shook her head. There was no pretending now. Her eyes welled up, and she choked back the tears. “No. I don’t even have his number. He left a note. It didn’t say anything about calling.”
“Asshole.”
“It was just a fling.” Grace shook her head. That was true. She had always known that was all it would be. Sean was always going to head back to Chicago. Grace had just thought she could hold on to him a little longer than she had. She had also thought that he would at least say goodbye.
“Not for you it wasn’t.” Kayla let her sink back into her chair. Kayla’s face flushed with anger. “If he were here, I would stomp on his toe and then call it an accident. He’s an idiot if he can’t see how awesome you are.”
Kayla looked cute in a sunny yellow dress and blue scarf that was completely incongruous with the weather. It was pouring rain outside, and the claps of thunder shook the building.
“He’s just a guy. Seriously, Kayla, it’s fine.” The weather matched Grace’s mood perfectly. The last thing she wanted was to have a heart-to-heart right here in the office with Kayla. She would end up crying, and she didn’t want to cry anymore. She’d cried so much the night before her eyes were still a little swollen.
Kayla studied her for a moment. She frowned. “I doubt that. I’m pretty sure you need some retail therapy or at least some time with Señor Cuervo. But now that you’re single again, we should see about setting you up. You have to forget that jerk and get right back on the horse.” A startled look crossed Kayla’s face. “Unless…didn’t I hear that you went out with Adam Miles last night?”
She wasn’t sure what that had to do with getting back on the horse. Not that she was getting on any horse, or man, anytime soon. She’d given the whole flaming hot affair thing a try, and she’d gotten burned. “We went out for dinner and a movie last night. He’s a friend. And he’s gay. Jake was with us.” It couldn’t be a hot date if the guy brought along his boyfriend.
“Holy crap. How exactly was Jake ‘with’ you? Tonya in HR says those boys are wild.”
Grace felt her eyes go wide. “What are you talking about?”
“Tonya said she’s never had a night like the one she spent in between those two.”
“No. They aren’t bi. They’re gay. They just started a relationship. I can’t imagine that they would do that.” But she kind of could, in a totally hot, dirty way. They were two gorgeous men. The idea of them kissing had always done something for her. The idea of them kissing and then reaching out to the girl watching them really did something for her. “No. That has to be a rumor. You know you shouldn’t pay attention to gossip.”
“What else am I supposed to do? Work? That’s horribly boring, Grace. I would much rather think about your suddenly raging, hot sex life. And I didn’t mention anything about them being bisexual. Maybe, but according to Tonya, they were all about the girl. Has one of them made a move on you? I bet it’s Jake. He’s the dark, broody one. I bet he’s the aggressive one, too.”
“No, it wasn’t Jake.” She hadn’t meant to say that.
Kayla’s grin practically lit up the room. “Then it was Adam. OMG, Grace, what happened?”
“It was nothing.” Wasn’t it? It had just been a little kiss. And a whole lot of hand holding. And Adam’s arm around her waist for a lot of the night. But he didn’t mean anything by that. She wasn’t so vain that she expected a thirty-year-old hottie to be after her. A hottie and his boyfriend. Although, now that she thought about it, she’d never seen them kiss. Maybe they were just shy. She shook her head. They couldn’t be straight. “It wasn’t anything. I don’t know what happened with Tonya, but I’m strictly hag material, if you know what I mean.”
Even the thought of two hot guys wasn’t breaking through the sadness she felt about Sean. She could put together four, and they wouldn’t be as stimulating as the thought of the man who she had briefly called Sir.
“I doubt that. You’re not very self aware.” Kayla got up and sighed. She pulled the scarf off her neck and began wrapping it around her hair, covering it. “There’s nothing else to do. We need lattes. I’m going to brave the rain and get us some. You stay here. You’ve had a crappy day. You always go get the coffee. I’ll do it today.”
But she hadn’t lately. Lately, her daily run to the coffee bar two streets over had been taken over by Sean. Until yesterday.
She’d always made her daily run to the coffee bar at exactly three p.m. But when she started seeing Sean, he’d show up with her latte, and then they would talk for awhile. Yesterday, she had forced herself to make the walk. It had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was gone and life was back to normal. “You don’t have to, Kay. It’s awful out there.”
“It’s letting up, and I need some caffeine. Give me your raincoat and your umbrella, and I’ll be good to go.” Kayla’s hand was already out and waiting.
Grace sighed and stood back up. She hugged her friend. At least if she was back to normal, Kayla was with her. She needed sugar and coffee and girl talk. “Thanks. Get me a couple of cookies, too. I’m supposed to go to happy hour with Adam and Jake tonight. Want to join us? You can form your own opinions about my future ménage a trois chances.”
Those would be zero, but she was willing to play along. Kayla was taking one for the team by going on the coffee run.
When she was fully geared up for the rain, Kayla gave her a jaunty salute and promised to return as soon as possible. Grace sat back. Matt had left earlier in the day after barking a few orders at her. He’d been in a terrible mood and obviously hung over. Now it was quiet. She thought briefly about visiting the storage place again and asking some questions. The weather made that decision for her. But there was something she could do.
Grace got up and walked to Matt’s door. She was surprised to discover it was locked. She tried it twice before accepting it. He never locked his door. Confused, Grace walked back to her desk and pulled out her keys. Maybe he’d forgotten she had a set, or he’d just made a mistake. Either way, she was going in. She wanted to see that contract he’d signed, the big moneymaker they were celebrating on Friday.
It took her awhile to find the file. She shuffled through it, reading through each bid carefully. Twenty minutes later, she came to the final, signed contract, and then her jaw dropped open.
They were losing money on the Bryson Building deal. How was that possible? Why would he do that? What on earth had possessed him to make such a deal?
By the time Grace looked up, Adam was standing in the doorway, a smile on his face and his hand out to her.
* * * *
Sean watched her cross the street from his car. Her face was covered by her
bright red umbrella, but he knew the raincoat she’d worn that morning. He checked the time. Exactly three p.m. It was the afternoon coffee run. It didn’t look like a little rain was going to keep Grace away from her afternoon fix. What a miserable fucking day. He hadn’t slept. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Grace in between Adam and Jake right before Patrick Wright, former CIA agent, showed up to kill them all. It was so fucking nice of Mr. Black to not mention he was really hunting a rogue agent. Bastard.
After he’d driven back to Ian’s and screamed at his brother for keeping him out of the loop, he’d handed over the copies of the evidence he’d made.
Sean slunk out of the SUV to begin his obligatory tracking of Grace Hawthorne. He knew where she was going, so he hung back. The last thing he wanted was for Grace to catch him. It would make him sink even lower in his brother’s estimation.
At least he’d made up for a little of his fuckup with the info he’d brought in the night before. The box Grace paid for, and Evan Parnell used, had been full. There had been two passports, a plethora of credit cards in various names, cash from several countries. There had also been a very interesting file on one Eli Nelson, who looked an awful lot like Mr. Black. It seemed Evan Parnell, who was almost certainly Patrick Wright with a great deal of good plastic surgery, had a beef with the CIA agent. There were some serious allegations against the man. There was also evidence that Parnell had been selling corporate and government secrets to the Chinese and intended to do so again.
And Grace was smack in the middle of it all.
So, who was she? Sweet widow with a penchant for submission and really bad luck in jobs, or savvy co-conspirator? And did he really care? He’d been up all night thinking about her.