The Double

by Newbury, Helena

  “We have to do this,” said Carrie. “We’ll never have an opportunity like this again and it’s our only shot at stopping a gang war. Doctor Franklin will operate on Alison tomorrow. Hailey, I want you to pull together all the information you have on Christina. I’m also having Christina flown here so we can question her. The Italian authorities found cocaine and amphetamines in her car so she’s looking at jail time unless she strikes a deal with us and cooperates. That’ll be all.”

  As I left the conference room, Calahan grabbed my arm and pulled me into the stairwell. “We can’t let them send Alison into Konstantin’s bed!”

  “I know! But….” I gave a helpless shrug. What can we do?

  He pressed his lips together and looked furtively around. I started to get a bad feeling. “Konstantin’s in Boston tonight, at some political fundraiser. He’s staying the night in a hotel.” He looked at me carefully, watching my reaction. “So he’ll have a hotel room.”

  I sighed. “If it was that easy, we’d have arrested him years ago. We’ll never get a warrant to search his room. Most of the judges are on his payroll.”

  Calahan just looked at me.

  My jaw dropped. “You want to search it without a warrant? You mean break in? Anything you found would be inadmissible!”

  “I know! But maybe we can find something that’ll give us an advantage. A date, a place... something that’ll let us plan a bust. Then we can talk Carrie out of this plan.”

  I gawped at him. “What if you get—” He made shh-ing gestures and I lowered my voice. “What if you get caught?! You’ll go to jail!”

  “I won’t get caught,” he said levelly. “Not if I have someone keeping watch.”

  My stomach dropped to my feet. “Oh God. No. No! Absolutely not. I am not running off to Boston with you on some illegal, unsanctioned….”

  I trailed off. Calahan was looking right at me, open and sincere, and I could see the pain in his eyes. I remembered what he’d told me about his past. He can’t lose someone else he’s close to.

  “Please,” he said.

  He was my best friend. I couldn’t let him go alone. And Alison is like a big sister to me. If doing this kept her out of danger…. I sighed and my shoulders slumped in resignation. Then I pushed my glasses up my nose. “Okay,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  2

  Hailey

  “FIND ANYTHING?” I asked for the tenth time.

  Calahan’s voice was stressed and breathless in my earpiece. “Still nothing.”

  This was not going well.

  I was in a hotel room, staring at my laptop screen, using the hotel’s security cameras to keep tabs on Konstantin. Just across the hallway, Calahan was frantically searching Konstantin’s room. We were way behind schedule. The plan had been to get into Konstantin’s room as soon as he went downstairs to join the party, but one of the hotel security guards had been patrolling the hallway and we’d had to wait for him to leave. Calahan had only made it into Konstantin’s room a few minutes ago and we knew Konstantin would come back upstairs any moment.

  “Anything?” I asked again.

  “No!” snapped Calahan. I could hear the bangs as he pulled open drawers and slammed them shut. “Where is he?”

  “Still in the ballroom,” I said. I watched as Konstantin prowled the room. I could actually see his power in the way the crowd parted ahead of him, reverent and fearful, in the way people turned to stare at him and then whispered in his wake. As I watched, Konstantin locked eyes with someone right on the other side of the room... and scowled. Just a tiny narrowing of those cold gray eyes, a tightening of those gorgeous lips, but it was enough to make the man on the receiving end go pale and stumble backwards, then flee the room entirely. The sheer, raw power of the man….

  I knew Konstantin would start back upstairs any minute. He was at the party for business, not fun, and the second the last shady deal was done, he’d go back to his room to work. I’ve never known anyone so intensely focused. He never took a vacation. He didn’t seem to have any vices at all... or if he did, he kept them hidden within his mansion.

  “Come on!” I told Calahan. “Get out of there!”

  “Just keep watching him,” said Calahan stubbornly. “I want to check the closet.”

  I gritted my teeth, my foot tap-tap-tapping on the floor with stress. If we didn’t pull this off, Alison would have to go undercover. And if we got caught, we’d be going to jail. I focused on Konstantin to try to take my mind off how high the stakes were.

  But staring at Konstantin had its own problems. His back was turned to me, his dinner jacket stretched tight over his broad back, the fabric sweeping down elegantly in a vee to that tight, toned waist. The fabric was so expensive, so perfectly black, that it looked as if he’d had it made from a piece of the night sky. I imagined pressing my hand against his back, my palm caressed by the silky smoothness of his jacket and then the heated throb of the hard muscle underneath. The size of him, so much bigger than me...it would be like touching a bear, a lion, knowing that he could twist around in a heartbeat and end me….

  I reached out and brushed my fingers against Konstantin’s back, but all I could feel was the hard plastic of the screen. For a second, I wished….

  I wished I could get close to him. Just for a second.

  Then I realized what I was thinking and I went cold. Am I going crazy? After two years of watching him, had I forgotten who he was? The man was pure, undiluted evil.

  And he was suddenly moving, crossing the room in huge strides. My throat went tight. “He’s on his way!” I managed. “Get out of there!”

  A sudden intake of breath from Calahan. “I found his laptop!”

  “I don’t care!” Impatient, Konstantin wasn’t waiting for the elevator. He was taking the stairs three at a time. “Get out now!”

  “It’s booting,” said Calahan. I heard him tapping keys. “Hardware key? What’s a hardware key?”

  I flipped through cameras, tracking Konstantin as he moved. “He’s on our floor! Move!”

  Calahan cursed under his breath. Then I heard the laptop close.

  “Hurry!” I begged.

  “I’ve got to put it back where it was,” muttered Calahan. “Or he’ll know we were here.” I heard the rustle of clothes and then the closet doors closing and footsteps. “Okay, coming out—”

  I checked the cameras and my heart nearly stopped. “Wait!”

  Calahan’s footsteps stopped as he froze.

  “We’re too late,” I moaned. “He’s in the hallway! He’ll see you coming out!” I could feel the blood draining from my face. This was way worse than getting caught by hotel security. Konstantin was likely carrying a gun. If he found Calahan in his room, he’d shoot and then claim self-defense….

  Konstantin arrived outside his room. I imagined Calahan standing on the other side of the door: they were practically face to face. There was only one thing to do. “Hide!” I told him frantically.

  I heard footsteps in my earpiece as Calahan turned and ran. His breathing suddenly went echoey. The bathroom. He’s hiding in the bathroom.

  Konstantin opened the door to his room. I held my breath...but there was no yell of shock, no gunshot. Calahan must have gotten out of sight just in time. Konstantin went inside... and closed the door.

  I sat there frozen, staring at the screen. Calahan was trapped. And as soon as Konstantin went into the bathroom, he was dead. I started to panic, breathe. What the hell do I do? I wasn’t a field agent like him, I just did surveillance. Should I call the cops? Call Carrie? We’d broken into a hotel room without any sort of warrant. We’d be arrested, our careers would be over, and Konstantin would find out he was being watched. He’d be too suspicious for Carrie’s undercover plan to work. We’ve blown the whole thing! And even if I did call for help, it probably wouldn’t come in time. Konstantin would find Calahan any minute.

  Unless….

  My eyes lifted from the screen. I looked towards the hallway, and Kon
stantin’s room.

  Unless someone distracted Konstantin while Calahan slipped out.

  My heart came to a juddering halt. Go in there?! With Konstantin?! I couldn’t be a diversion, I’ve spent my whole life not getting noticed.

  But if I didn’t do this, Calahan was dead.

  I ran for the bathroom, stripping off my suit as I went. I didn’t have a plan, I had an idea, and I didn’t have time to worry if it was a good one or not. Naked, I turned the faucet on the sink on full and dunked my head under. When I lifted my head, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and froze. This is crazy. This needed someone like Alison, someone pretty and confident and brave. But all there was, was me, with my mop of frizzy hair the color of dirt, freckles and scared brown eyes blinking behind thick glasses.

  And low down on my side, an ugly, raised scar. The reason I learned to be invisible.

  I grabbed one of the fluffy white bathrobes and pulled it on, then ran out into the hallway, slamming our room’s door behind me.

  I lifted my hand to knock, then faltered. What the hell am I doing? This was Konstantin.

  But this was Calahan’s only chance. I knocked.

  Distant footsteps, coming closer. My legs twitched with the need to run, run! But I made myself stand firm. My vision swam, the door distorting. I felt giddy and weak.

  He threw open the door.

  And I was face to face with Konstantin.

  3

  Hailey

  I’D THOUGHT that I was used to him. I’d spent more time staring at this man than most married couples spend together. But it had always been from a distance. However close the camera lens had brought him, it was nothing like being in his presence.

  I’d known he was big because I’d seen him tower over other men. But looking down on him from a rooftop was very different to looking up at him from two feet away. Being in bare feet made me even smaller: the top of my head barely reached his shirt collar. I had to crane my head way, way back to see his face. And...God, he filled the doorway, his shoulders almost brushing the sides, his chest a wall of solid muscle that filled my view. His body was beyond intimidating: he could easily pick me up with one hand.

  But that was nothing compared to who he was. That knowledge was like a cold blackness pushing in from every side, sapping every bit of strength and warmth from me. After years of anonymity, of staying safely at a distance, suddenly I was in direct contact with everything the FBI fought against. His branch of the Russian Mafia had the wealth and power of a small country and he could bring the entire weight of it down on me. My death would take a mere wave of his hand. I was too scared to breathe.

  And then I looked into his eyes.

  At first, all I could see was cold. He was glowering down at whoever had dared disturb him and the chill in those gray eyes made my chest contract. He’s looking at me. After two years of watching him, he was looking at me. I couldn’t speak. I just stood there staring up at him from behind my glasses.

  Then he blinked, just once, as if surprised. His eyes crinkled. Confusion... then fascination. At that moment, his eyes didn’t look completely gray. There was just the faintest hint of pale blue.

  Suddenly, I could breathe again. And when I inhaled, the air carried the heat of his body and the clean, rich smell of him. I’d always been so far away, I’d never imagined him having a scent, but it was amazing. Vanilla and something I couldn’t identify, sharp and citrusy and cold: I imagined bright red berries that grew only in Russia, frozen solid in a fierce winter and then crushed to extract their essence.

  What’s going on?

  I fought it, but my eyes were darting helplessly over him. For two years, I’d had to gauge his body under suit jackets and coats. Now, his jacket was gone and he’d undone a few buttons on his shirt, his bow tie hanging loose around his neck. There was a tantalizing triangle of smooth, tan skin, with just the hint of the tops of his huge pecs. I could follow the shape of them as they pushed out his shirt, and there was just enough light in the dim hallway to make out the shadows of his nipples. There were other shadows, even darker, just below his collarbone: Bratva tattoos. My eyes roved lower. There was a hint of alternating dark and light: the ridges and valleys of his abs. Then the dividing line where soft white shirt disappeared into the black of his tuxedo pants. God, his waist was so tight, and the way he flared out, his hips and quads loaded with power….

  The blood was rushing in my ears, my heart pounding. That look in his eyes had made the fear drop away just enough... it was still there, but it had disappeared beneath a tidal wave of raw, hot need.

  I knew I was attracted to him. But through the lens of the camera, he’d been toned down and abstracted, a faded photocopy. Now I was getting the real thing.

  I swallowed, breathless, and looked up at his face. I was seeing a million new, tiny details now. It was as if my senses had been starving for him all this time, surviving on just distant glimpses, and now they were gorging themselves. I’d seen that strong jaw a thousand times, but I’d never noticed how the dimple set off all the iron hardness: I had the crazy urge to run my finger down his chin and press it. And that pouting lower lip, so arrogant…. I’d thought of him as looking like a king but I’d never appreciated just how much: there really was something regal about him, something grand and imperious. King didn’t cut it.

  I felt myself teetering on that cliff edge again. And all I wanted to do was step out into space.

  He stared at me, his face hardening. But his eyes kept that faint hint of blue, that tiny touch of warmth, however much he tried to frown it away. I swallowed. Emperor. That described it better. Konstantin was like a Roman Emperor, lord of the entire freakin’ world. And when he looked at me like that, there was some deep, shameful part of me that piped up and I’m just a lowly…

  I pushed the thought away. I had not just thought slave. But the twisting, thrashing, squirming hot mess I was inside said otherwise.

  “What?” he asked. Just one word but in that amazing Russian accent I knew so well from listening to his phone calls. It was even better in real life, an aural kiss, the long w like a press of the lips and the sharp t a lash of the tongue.

  I pushed my glasses up my nose. My voice ran on autopilot. “I’m really sorry, but I have the room across the hall and I went out to go to the ice machine and the door closed behind me and I don’t have my key. Could you please call reception for me?” I gestured down at my bathrobe. “I don’t want to go all the way down there like this.”

  He frowned even more deeply. And then his gaze left my face for the first time and did a slow slalom down my body. When his eyes came back up, I swallowed. They’d gone glittering and hard, but absolutely blazing hot, gray-blue diamonds melting in a furnace. I glanced down.

  Shit. I hadn’t had time to belt the robe properly as I crossed the hallway. The belt had slipped completely undone and the two sides of the robe were just hanging. With his height, he could look straight down onto the upper curves of my breasts, revealed almost down to the nipples. And a slice of skin was visible all the way down my body: the valley between my breasts, my belly, my navel and then on down to—

  Things fell off into shadow around there. I wasn’t sure how much he’d seen. I grabbed the sides of the robe and tugged them firmly closed, then knotted the belt like I was securing a lifejacket. When I looked up again, his eyes were still blazing, but now they were... disapproving.

  He didn’t like that I’d covered myself. A hot rush of excitement sluiced down through my body. Then I went almost dizzy with the shock of it. What’s going on? No one has ever looked at me, especially not a man. I’ve spent my entire life trying not to be noticed.

  “Please?” I asked. Unexpectedly, that shameful heat twisted inside me again. Reacting to the sound of me begging him.

  He didn’t move back out of the way. But he leaned a little to one side and lifted one arm up, opening up a tight little doorway.

  I squeezed through, my wet hair brushing the undersi
de of his arm, my wrist sliding along his side. Beneath the thin cotton of his dress shirt, he was a wall of hard, hot flesh. I’d never known anyone so solid.

  The first door we passed was the bathroom and I tried not to even glance at it. Hold on, Calahan….

  I kept walking. There was a whump behind me as Konstantin closed the door and I faltered. That was it: I was sealed in here with him. What if he started to suspect who I was? What if he already did and he’d just wanted to lure me in here so that we were private? The fear came back. The urge to just turn around and bolt for the door was almost irresistible.

  But if I wanted to save Calahan, I had to go further in. I had to get Konstantin as far from the bathroom as possible. So on shaking legs, I carried on walking.

  I entered the living area. The suite was huge and opulently furnished, with big leather couches, an open-plan dining area and three more doors that I guessed led off to bedrooms. No wonder it had taken Calahan a long time to search it. I walked right to the far corner. I needed to get Konstantin over there, too, so that he couldn’t see the bathroom door. But he hung back, circling me at a distance. His eyes were still molten but there was caution there, too. Suspicion. “It’s just you, in your room?” That accent...rough black rock carved by a razor-sharp blade until its surfaces shone like silver. “No husband? No boyfriend?”

  I did what I always did when someone asked me that: I flushed, looked at the floor, and gave a little snort and a shake of my head, like, don’t be silly. But when I focused on him again, he’d tilted his head to one side and was glaring at me, his eyes even hotter. Disapproving, again. As if he expected me to have a boyfriend. And he really, really didn’t like me putting myself down.

  I blinked at him in shock from behind my glasses. A slow-motion explosion of warmth was going off in my chest. The scariest guy in the world had somehow just made me feel better than any guy ever had.