“Here, here,” Raul said as he rose to his feet. “Damn, I haven’t seen you both in so long. I need a picture for Irene and the kids.”
“A picture,” Lane repeated, digesting that because Raul had no Irene and no kids. Lane turned a bit to see the reason why Raul was so devoted to the idea of a snapshot with his iPhone and spotted the target. “Okay, great! Let me put my arm around Bella! Smile, cara mia,” he said to her sotto voce, “the three-headed hydra seems to be gracing the lobby behind us.”
“How charming,” she cooed, posing for Raul. “I always wanted to be a turista.”
“Bene, bene,” he told her as they both looked at Raul’s screen.
The image was a tall, wiry gray-haired man. A short, balding one. “The first must be our Russian caviar, eh? This one is definitely our Bavarian dumpling,” she told him with a fire in her eyes. “And this one,” she said with obvious distaste, “is the brother of the man we met yesterday.”
Lane searched his memory banks, checking the familiar look of this man against all those he’d met yesterday. A slew of aides and government workers came to mind. Then he had it! He turned his back to the three men who formed Kopf Industries so that no one could read his lips when he mouthed the name, “Umberto?”
The Italian vice finance minister!
Raul cleared his throat. “That’s this dude’s name?” he asked Bella as he too turned his back. “Got a first name?”
“Giorgio,” she told him in a low voice.
“Okay. Let me just send these on over to Maddie in Texas. She told me to get pictures of everyone of interest in this lobby and she’d run it through our face recog software.” He pushed a couple of buttons. “Okay…there we go…done!”
Bella had swung back around and began to mutter in Italian. Lane knew from her tone, she didn’t like what she saw.
He shifted his gaze.
Through the front doors came the vice finance minister of the Italian Republic. He looked weary, rumpled and harried. His dark eyes scanned the lobby as his retinue surrounded him and his bodyguards took note of everyone within twenty yards. The one man they didn’t expect, the one they blocked, frisked and then let through because their boss told them to, was his brother, Giorgio Umberto.
Although the two men embraced, neither one displayed any brotherly love toward the other.
“Got a shot of that, Raul?” Lane asked from the corner of his mouth.
“Maddie’s gonna dig my artistic talents.”
“As long as the resolution is high enough for our techs to work with, she’ll be mad for you, buddy,” Lane assured him. “Uh-oh. What’s going on there?”
The Umberto brothers were having an argument. A low-pitched, violent exchange in which one was giving beady-eyed statements to the other. They broke off as quickly as they had begun, Giorgio leaving his brother to return to his two Kopf buddies.
“Any idea what they said to each other?” Lane asked Bella quietly while Raul clicked away at text messaging.
“They’re not happy with each other, which you could understand without a translation, sì?”
He nodded.
“Giorgio told his brother to come see him tonight in his room.”
“Really?” Lane was shocked at that.
“But our friend refused.”
“Wise of him. He should not go anywhere he is not previously cleared for.”
Lane’s phone rang. “Hold on, let me get this. It’s…” Adam?
“Hey, Lane. Listen to me. That embrace we all just saw?”
“Yeah, what about it?” Lane asked, spotting Adam across the lobby near a potted palm.
“The central office of the Italian government just officially announced on radio and TV that they are freezing all assets of Kopf Industries.”
Lane swore. “The vice minister knew all along what was happening!”
“You bet,” Adam said and clicked off, his expression self-satisfied.
Lane repeated the information to Isabella and Raul.
Bella crossed her arms, stared at Lane but seemed to be looking right through him.
“What are you thinking?”
“I wondered why the vice minister of finance was so fearful of coming to this conference. Now we know one reason. His own brother is involved. He is part of Kopf. And the vice minister is obviously apologizing to his brother about the freezing of assets.”
“He should have told us.”
“Sì, sì. Very bad of him to conceal this fact. But I think the best thing to do now is for me to become reacquainted with Herr Gottfried. I think I can coax some information from him.”
“No. Bad idea.”
“Good idea,” she contradicted. “I will say that I am here with colleagues from my business and that I saw him and wanted to buy him a drink.”
“No, Bella.” Lane’s gut said this was a horrible move. “You said you hardly knew him. Just met him a couple of times.”
“Ah, but it was obvious he liked me.” The way she said it left no doubt that the reason Herr Gottfried “liked” her was that he wanted to lay her.
“No.”
She ignored him, unbuttoned the top button of her silk blouse and removed the clip that had held up her glossy dark waves today.
“I’m telling you, Bella. This is not wise.”
She shook out her hair so it tumbled down her back and smiled at him, her back to her quarry. “Not to worry. I will be safe, darling.”
Raul noted that last word with the arch of a dark brow.
That word, however, made Lane even more determined to keep her from the German. “No, Bella.”
“While you two argue about our Kraut, I want you to know one small fact.”
“What?” Lane shot at him. “Sorry.”
“Hey. I get what goes on here between you two. No problem. But Maddie has written something here. You need to take a look, Lane. Do you know what this means?”
Lane had to read it twice. The text message said, “I may be nuts here…or it’s just my false labor which doesn’t seem to be getting any lighter. But. I know this guy in this picture. I swear I do. Give me a few minutes to get Jessie on this over in Face Recog. But I could swear I have seen this man before. Couldn’t tell you his name. But bear with me.” He passed the phone over to Bella.
She shrugged. “All right, but I can’t stand around waiting when an opportunity has presented itself. He might walk away any minute.” Then she curved her lips in a smile and brushed a light kiss on his cheek, playing to the audience in the lobby. “Ciao, Lane,” and she sped off toward Gottfried.
He tried to look unaffected by her departure, knowing the German would want to investigate precisely who Bella was and who she was with.
“Talk to me, Lane.” Raul had a shit-eating grin on his face.
“You can be replaced, you know,” Lane warned the man.
“No I can’t, Lane, old man. And obviously she certainly can’t.”
Got that right. He kept his back to the lobby. “How’s she doing with Mr. Wonderful?”
“Great. Who wouldn’t want a woman like that to approach you with those gorgeous sultry eyes flashing?”
Lane ground his teeth. “Sure. Sure.”
Raul’s phone pinged. He clicked on. “Oh, wow. Read this from Maddie.”
Looking over his shoulder briefly to cast a jaundiced eye on Bella, he reluctantly read the new text.
Maddie wrote, “Oh, hell. I do know this man. He’s the one I saw over a year ago when Dan and I were staking out Rick Carstairs’ ranch. It’s clear to me now that if he was there then he was one of the men meeting and planning a coup of the U.S. government with the man who was then the Speaker of the House of Representatives here. Be very careful there. This man is dangerous.”
He texted back and asked which of the two brothers in the picture she referred to.
“The one on the left,” she messaged back.
“You’re certain? They look a lot alike.”
“They do. S
ure. But I’m certain. The one on the left.”
Jesus.
“Do you know who he is?” she texted again.
“I do,” he replied.
“Who is it?” she responded.
“Italy’s vice minister of finance.” Lane whirled, staring at the place where Bella should have been standing conversing with Wilhelm Gottfried. Instead, there was no one.
“She went into the bar with him,” Raul said in a low voice.
“We’re—”
Raul grabbed his coat sleeve. “No, we’re not going in there. She is a big girl and if she’s been hired by us, she can take care of herself. Cool to a simmer there, fella. The lady is delicious, but she also has brains.”
“You’re right. You’re right.”
Forty-five tense minutes later, Bella emerged from the bar. Her German took himself and two of his bodyguards straight up in the elevators.
“Well?” Lane asked when she returned, her bravado escaping her like air from a balloon. His relief increased with every breath she took. “What?”
“Nothing. He’s secretive as a clam. I have an invitation to his villa in Lake Garda anytime I like, but aside from that? Nothing.” She closed her eyes and swayed, nearly falling into the lobby sofa next to him. “Take me upstairs.”
“Go,” Raul said. “Nothing much going on here now. My relief arrives in about half an hour. Get some rest. I know what you’ve been doing for the past forty-eight hours.”
Lane helped Bella stand. “Come on. We’ll order room service for dinner and you are going to bed to get some sleep.”
“Bene notte,” she bade Raul with a watery smile. Walking with Lane, she seemed as limp as a rag doll. Then in the elevator, she fell against him. “I need you,” she told him, reaching up to kiss him. The desperation rippled through her body and he felt the terror of it. “I may need you for a long, long time.”
Proud as a beast that had conquered his own part of the jungle, Lane assured her, “I’m taking you to bed. But you are going to eat and sleep in it. That’s it.”
She pressed her face to the column of his throat. “And if I wake you in the night, will you make love to me then?”
“Always, Bella,” he promised. “I will always make love to you.”
Chapter Eight
“If Italy froze the Kopf assets why hasn’t Umberto been released?” Isabella asked as she and Lane walked down the hall from the elevator.
“Maybe they’re using him as leverage to get the other seven countries to follow suit. None of them has stepped up to the plate.”
“If that doesn’t happen then the bomb threat is still in play,” she pointed out.
The moment they walked into their suite Isabella kicked off her shoes, ran her hands through her hair and flopped down on the bed.
“I need a shower,” she announced. “Just talking to Gottfried makes me feel dirty.”
Lane knelt next to the bed, and began rubbing her feet, her ankles and up the length of her calves. He had such a soothing touch, his fingers knowing just where and how to press and rub. A sigh of pleasure drifted from her lips like a soft breeze.
“Let me take care of you, bellissima,” he murmured. “Let down your guard for just this little while and give yourself over to me.”
“Oh, Lane.” She moaned softly, her body melting into his. “You have no idea how much I want that.”
“Then let me,” he insisted. “Don’t fight me.” He moved up onto the bed next to her, pulled her into his arms and brushed the silken strands of hair from her face. “We’ve had a hellacious couple of days, every minute of them stressful and tense. You’ve been going ninety miles an hour and shouldering an incredible amount of pressure. You don’t always have to be the strong one, you know.”
She studied his face, trying to read the emotion she saw there. “Sometimes being strong sucks. You know?”
“I do. And letting yourself go with me doesn’t make you weak, just human.” He kissed her cheek, her nose, her chin and her eyelids. “If the situation was reversed I’d give every bit of control to you and enjoy every minute of it.”
She laughed softly. “I’m just so used to seeing that as a sign of weakness.”
“The last thing anyone would call you is weak, Bella. Maddie is tracking down sales of the purse and Nicki is making arrangements for us to get into the hall where the G8 meeting is being held.”
“We have to do it tonight. And it’s already almost twilight.”
“Trust me. She’s on it. But she has to coordinate with the government, because the meeting is taking place in a government building. Then she has to contact the heads of all G8 security teams and set it up for me to meet with them. And then we’ll all go to the hall and you can do your thing. But no one else is going into that place until you clear it.”
“Okay. You’re right.”
“You said you want a shower. Let me give you one. I promise you’ll love it.”
She smiled at him, her body melting at his touch. “I put myself in your hands, mi amore.”
Phht! Did I just call him my heart? He hasn’t promised me anything except team partnership and great sex. And I do not want to scare this man off.
But he brushed his lips over hers. “I’m definitely the man for the task.”
He increased the pressure of the kiss, rubbing his lips over hers and tracing the seam with the tip of his tongue before urging her to open to him. His tongue invaded hungrily and she met it with her own, enjoying the sensual dance as he unbuttoned her blouse and parted the fabric then flicked open the front clasp of her bra. One warm hand covered a breast and immediately heat streaked through her. He caught her nipple between two fingers, squeezing it gently even as he pushed the blouse and bra straps over her shoulders.
His tongue still dueling with hers, he slid down the zipper of her skirt and thrust the material over her hips, sliding his hand beneath the flimsy silk of her panties to brush her trimmed pubic curls. One lean finger slid between her slick labia, over her now-throbbing clit and into the wet heat of her pussy.
“You’re ready for me,” he whispered against her mouth. “I think you’re always ready for me, aren’t you, Bella?”
She tried to rub herself against his touch. “I think, sì, you are right. One touch and I go up in flames.”
She tried to open her legs more for him but the skirt still restricted it.
“Uh-uh,” he murmured into her mouth. “I’m in charge here, remember?”
“I’ll try, mi amore.” There. She’d said it again and he didn’t flinch.
If anyone could be in charge of her it would be Lane Hallowell. They had only known each other for a very few days but already she felt more for him, trusted him more, than any other man she’d ever met. They worked well together as a team but it was more than that. He was concerned for her welfare without getting in the way of her job, showing respect for her particular area of expertise. He seemed to sense what she needed even before she did. And she’d felt an instant and powerful emotional connection to him. Did he feel the same?
He slid off the bed and pulled her to her feet. He finished undressing her with great care, folding her clothing precisely and placing it on one of the armchairs. Then, in a very masculine but very graceful movement he lifted her in his arms and carried her into the huge bathroom. Propping her against him with one hand, he reached into the shower with the other and turned on the spray. When he was satisfied with the temperature he lowered Isabella to the commode seat and she watched him strip his own clothes off with a maximum of efficiency.
God, she loved looking at his body, so sleek and powerful, so toned, muscles as defined as those of a statue. The soft mat of hair on his chest, and the magnificent cock jutting proudly from his groin. The pulsebeat in her womb ratcheted up at the sight of him.
“Okay.” His smile was easy but his eyes burned with hungry passion. “Time to shower off the filth of society.”
He lifted her to her feet, took her hand and
led her into the shower with him. The spray was so fine it was almost a mist as it cascaded down on her, the pattering of the drops so gentle on her skin. Lane propped her against the wall, grabbed the bottle of scented gel the hotel provided and worked some into a lather in his hands. Then he began to gently rub it into her skin, beginning at her shoulders, kneading the muscles as he worked his way down her arms, paying individual attention to each finger and the palm of each hand. Her wrists, her knuckles, the insides of her elbow. Strong yet gentle strokes that eased away the tension gripping her muscles.
Next he worked his way across her collarbone and down to the slope of her breasts, stopping to pay careful attention to each nipple, pulling them until they were stiff, pebbled peaks. Her breath caught in her throat as he directed the spray to rinse them then put his mouth to each of them, sucking and nipping in turn. She felt every pull clear through her body to her cunt as if shards of electricity sizzled through her.
Isabella simply leaned against the wall, eyes closed, and gave herself over to the pleasure of it.
More shower gel, more lather, Lane’s strong hands sliding down her tummy, pausing to trace the furled flesh of her navel, down, down, through the neat curls of her cunt lips until a fingertip glided over her already sensitive clit. A gentle stroking, a touch barely there but more arousing than if he’d actually pressed hard on it. His finger brushed back and forth, slowly and softly, and with each movement her pussy clenched and hungered for him to fill it. She heard a low moan drifting in the steam-filled air and realized it was coming from her.
“Feel good, bellissima?” Lane’s mouth was close to her ear, his breath fanning her skin.
“Mmmm,” was all she could manage in response.
His chuckle was low and sensual. “Good. Very good.”
His finger dipped lower, rubbing the length of her slit before slipping easily into her pussy. More stroking. More rubbing. A second finger joined the first, then a third and she moved her hips, riding his hand.
But then they were gone and she was empty again, groaning a protest.
“Shh, shh,” he murmured. “It’s all good.”
Unti Twilight Page 8