He’d worked back channels to find out if anyone else was running an op in the area—lo and behold, Arabella’s handler hadn’t been informed of Felix’s mission. Andre being a top priority in the area, she’d been sent in. Felix had rolled with the punches, and she’d been in and out with the information it had taken him ninety days to get close to. Talk about a kick in the nuts to his ego.
“And you still became friends?” Winter studied him closely, disbelief clear in her eyes.
They’d worked together for five-plus years already counting their time in the Middle East and she knew he didn’t get off on people crowding his territory. The mission came first—it always had—but he’d been known to put people in their place when they were out of line.
“We became more than that.”
Winter was like a sister. It didn’t feel all that weird telling her more than he told others. Even so, there were still some details he’d keep to himself.
“I see.” Her brow arched. She could fill in the blanks on her own.
“She’s in town for more than this job. She hasn’t been to this side of the country in years.” He took a deep breath. If there really was a powerful man with resources out to kill him, he didn’t want his team to be ambushed. “There’s one more thing.”
“Oh-kay.”
“I haven’t confirmed it yet, but there might be some people after me. To kill me. So be more vigilant in case they decide to go after innocents.”
Winter sat up straight. “Who and why?”
“Darek. A sheikh who lost a lot of money and uranium because of me.”
“When?”
“Four years ago. Remember when I would leave for periods of time and not tell anyone where I was? I was undercover in the Arabian Peninsula. Part of the reason I was in Louis’s unit was for cover and access to the area.” He shook his head. “If that cocky bastard Darek just would’ve listened, he’d have been able to keep most of the money that was confiscated.”
“How do you know he’s after you?”
“Arabella told me last night before I followed her here.”
“How would she know?”
“I’m not sure it’s true yet. But she does have her hands in a lot of pots.”
The woman was good at what she did—her specialty was keeping her contacts intact and bountiful. People loved to love her.
“Can I look into anything for you?”
“I could use help seeing if he’s in town, or his men. I don’t know who he hired.”
She scribbled down a name and location on a notepad. “You guys are meeting with a Mr. Parsa Bahman, who,” she checked her cell phone, “hails from Oman. Be careful. This might not be a coincidence.”
The country of Oman bordered Saudi Arabia, and Darek had many contacts in the vicinity. “Few things are.”
She handed him a folder with the particulars on Mr. Bahman—photo, where he was staying, why he was in town, places he needed to go, and any known threats.
There had been a Bahman on Darek’s payroll in the finance arena, but Felix had never gotten a look at the guy or a first name. Darek liked to keep business segmented as much as possible. Not much intel from the United States or any of its allies had ever been collected on the man who dealt in dirty money, weapons, and uranium, so Felix had submitted his findings, and they’d probably been put in a file somewhere—one he’d never been able to see. After his mission concluded and his debriefing wrapped up, his commanding officer had sent him back to Louis’s unit, and he’d never heard more about it.
He stood to leave just as Arabella came through the front door. Great. He definitely wasn’t waking up from this nightmare any time soon, and she looked fantastic. Hair up in a ponytail, an army green version of the same cargo pants from last night, long-sleeved shirt to match, and boots. She was one stylish she-devil. And those curves—why he hadn’t indulged last night was beyond him. The sex was always mind-blowing. But what he really missed was waking up to her—her long hair covering his arm and shoulder and her naked body curled into him. She’d look up at him with her innocent, brown-orange, sleepy stare and lazy smile . . . It’s hard to hide emotions when you’re waking up from a deep sleep, and in those few seconds, no matter what had happened or what the future held, he’d found a calmness he had never experienced anywhere else. Knowing that someone really and truly was in your corner changed a man. At least it had for him. He’d thought about the future, a family, and growing old. Fate or life or bad fucking luck had had other ideas and royally screwed up everything he’d dared to dream about.
“Good morning.” Arabella’s gaze now was not so innocent. Not so innocent at all.
He didn’t bother stopping to exchange pleasantries—he had none to give. They could do their talking on the road. “Let’s go.”
She pivoted and followed. “Where are we going?”
“Downtown.”
“Any specific place in mind?”
He stopped short and she nearly bumped into him. “Your hotel.”
“And why is that?”
Her brow arched, and a smile tugged at her lips, clearly goading him. He swore under his breath. If he’d wanted to, he’d have taken her last night when she’d been naked and offering in his bed. He was not going to get sucked into her web again. They were done. When whatever the fuck this was was over, she was definitely signing divorce papers. He didn’t need their commitment and strings controlling his future—he needed to let her go once and for all.
“It’s where our new client is.” He kept his expression devoid of emotion. “One that I’m sure you’ll be very interested in.”
They loaded up, grabbing bulletproof vests from the back of his vehicle and extra clips for their weapons. He had a small armory at his disposal like any good operator would—some Wyn Security had provided, but most of the hardware was his own private collection. What wasn’t surprising was that Arabella came prepared with a set of knifes, two handguns, and a taser strapped and hidden around her body. The taser was new to her arsenal since the last time he’d seen her gear up. He hated those fucking things, but they could get the job done in close quarters.
“You drive around with all of this out in the open?” She put on a black windbreaker with block lettering on the back that read: WYN SECURITY.
“It’s hidden, and my windows are tinted.”
“You could take down a small country.”
He re-holstered his favorite Beretta underneath his jacket. “Get in.”
Why the hell did she have to be as beautiful as she was dangerous? He should’ve cut all ties with her a long time ago. They hadn’t had a conventional marriage, not since the first year, but it had been what worked for them. Sort of. If you counted barely seeing each other or not getting along most of the time a success. Which he didn’t. And especially not now. Now was his chance to let her go.
Saying the word divorce out loud last night had been cleansing to his system, the start of moving on. Fuck. They weren’t the same people who’d fallen helplessly in love all those years ago.
He drove over the bridge and headed north on the interstate.
“Tell me the story you concocted so we can start getting to the truth.” He was going to stay calm and collected today. He was not going to yell—he’d promised himself.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Have you decided what you’re going to do about Darek’s men?”
“I haven’t decided if he’s a real threat.”
“You seriously aren’t going to listen to me?”
“Would you?”
“Yes.”
“Then no.” He side glanced her way. She was looking at him like he was a defiant child. “I’m looking into it on my own.”
Silence covered a very long two miles. Nope. There’s more to it. There has to be.
“I know what you said last night. And I know you’re sticking to your story today.” He didn’t bother to look at her—she was going to tell him whatever she had planned. His only
hope was that she messed up or gave him more than she wanted to. “What’s not working for me is that you show up warning me of Darek when I’ve heard no other chatter from sources I had set up for that very reason, and then I catch you going behind my back and getting a job where I work, for which you also have no good reason. You’re banking up a lot of ideas and lies, Nox.”
“What? I’m not allowed to care about you?” Her voice was a little muffled because her head was turned toward her window. He couldn’t tell if her tone was sincere or sarcastic.
“I didn’t say that.” He exited the freeway into downtown heading for the Westin.
“Sure sounded like it.”
“You know very well these events are suspicious.” Great. Now he was on the offense. “Answer me this one question: Is it just me who is in trouble, or is it you, too?”
He’d done the math in his head and gone over countless reasons she would’ve knocked on his door—picked the lock rather. There were only two. He didn’t think her entire story was a lie; he just didn’t think it was the whole truth either. Not after she got a job through Winter and not him. Really, the whole job thing was bizarre—what in the hell was her angle with that move?
He stopped at a light and turned in his seat to face her.
“It’s you.” She leveled her gaze dead into his eyes.
Eye twitch. Shit. He kept his stare on her for a few more seconds before nodding once and facing the road again. He gritted his teeth. She was in trouble and not willing to tell him about it.
“Tell me about the client downtown.” She shifted in her seat toward him and crossed her legs. Now he had her full attention.
“He needs extra security for a couple of meetings today and tomorrow, and then he’s heading back home.”
“And why is he interesting to me?”
“He’s from Oman and his name is Parsa Bahman.”
She nodded, her expression steady. He couldn’t tell if the name registered with her. Dammit. He gripped the steering wheel harder and drove into the underground parking lot. Her ordeal could have nothing to do with Darek—that name could’ve been merely to get his attention.
He parked and grabbed the client folder Winter had given him. He leafed through it, handing Arabella a couple of sheets on locations she’d have to check out tonight while he took others. That would also give him time to follow her again. Whatever she did in her off time he needed to know.
The amber and floral scent that followed her everywhere had spread to his vehicle. He’d probably never get rid of the smell now, even when she was long gone. And she would leave, whether she gave him a divorce or not.
He already couldn’t eat vanilla ice cream because it held a faint reminder. Now he was going to have to trade in his Hummer.
“Follow my lead. No going off on your own.” He reached for his door handle.
“Sure thing. Boss.”
She fell in step with him as they made their way to the conference room the client had reserved. Apparently he liked a home base besides his personal room.
“Mr. Bahman?” Felix asked as he opened the door and let Arabella pass through. Her shoulder brushed his chest, and an icy cold spike burned his spine.
Two men stepped between Felix and the man in a suit that probably cost more than Felix made in a month. Bahman spoke in a foreign tongue, and the guards relented.
“We’re here from Wyn Security. I’m Felix, and this is Arabella.” He reached out and shook the boss’s hand.
“This is Erfan and Javed. You’re here to assist them at locations other than the hotel.”
Felix watched closely to see if either Bahman or Arabella hinted that they knew who the other was—there was nothing. She was really going to make this hard on him—not only did they have to work side by side, trusting that if something went wrong, they had each other’s back, but she was also leaving him to put together a jigsaw puzzle of an all-black picture.
He was not only gaining a client today, but also a lying spy partner he had to keep an even closer eye on.
• • •
“Good night.” Arabella smiled at Javed and out of the corner of her eye caught Felix stop mid stride and face them.
She grinned internally. The alpha protection switch had flipped in Felix, and the sour look on his face was death to Javed. She laughed to herself—damn, that man was hot lava in a muscular, six-foot-five body. She loved how his chest puffed out a little when he thought someone was flirting with her. He’d been doing that all day—an action that had repercussions in her mind. Felix couldn’t be serious about a divorce if he was still that jealous of other men around her.
Arabella grabbed out of her pocket the papers that he’d given her that morning. “I’m going to go check out my locations.”
Felix eyed her up and down. The act was normal, but the way he lingered on certain spots heated her skin. Everywhere. She wanted him to do more than just look. If he wrapped her up into his thick body and held on tightly while pressing his lips to hers, she wouldn’t object. Watching him work all day had turned her on. She hadn’t seen his action side in years. Felix had always been the strong, silent type, but when alertness and vigilance were added to the mix, he was nobody she’d ever want to mess with. Outside of the bedroom, that is—that attentiveness was fire between the sheets.
He’d called her out on her story this morning, but her best bet was to stick with what she’d told him—once she started backtracking, he’d know for certain she hadn’t been totally truthful.
“See you in the morning.” She called to Felix and watched his fine ass walk through the rotating doors and, for a moment, thought about yelling after him.
He’d call her crazy and stop her from following through with the new plan she’d worked out while they guarded Parsa during various meetings when the discussions were too low for her to overhear. Unfortunately. But she knew who Parsa was. If Felix stopped her new strategy, Parsa would get away, and Darek’s men would know exactly where she was. And Felix. Which was unacceptable. Felix could keep his Boy Scout ways intact—her lines had never been black and white. Darek wasn’t going to leave Seattle alive.
It’s now or never. She quickly stepped to catch up to the tall guard with bulging muscles for arms who had been sneaking glances at her every chance he’d gotten. She’d scoped out the conference room but had no idea what the room situation upstairs was like, so she had to catch Parsa while he and his guards were downstairs.
“Hey, Javed.” She batted her eyes a couple of times, luring him into a false sense of security. “Wait up.” She jogged to the smiling dope and followed all three men into the small room and pulled the door tight behind her. “What are you doing later to unwind?”
Javed was definitely a leg dude—she knew because he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off hers. She locked her gaze on to his, swung her hips, and ran her palms up the sides of her thighs as she marched straight for him. He was going to be her first takedown in the room—a target didn’t get easier than him.
His goofy smile stayed in place until she was within a few feet of him and didn’t stop. She kneed him in the groin before he could react. As he bent over with a squeal, she used the butt of her gun to hit him on the base of his head to knock him out.
She pivoted to her right as Erfan was closing in on her, gun drawn. The thing about a gun is that it shoots from a distance, so why people felt the need to get closer and closer to their target was beyond her—all that did was allow her to take the gun away.
Parsa had yet to do anything, as he was blocked into the room and she hadn’t clocked a weapon on him all day.
She switched her gun to her left hand then swept her right arm across her front to hit Erfan’s wrist supporting his gun. His grip was tight enough that the gun didn’t go flying, but she used the opportunity to punch him in the face—aiming her cut upward to break his nose. Blood was quick to run down his face. She snatched his gun, tucking it in the back of her waist and ordered him on the ground by
his passed-out counterpart. He dove for her legs, but he wasn’t fast enough. She hit him over the head with the butt of her gun and he fell to the floor, unconscious. In another country, she might’ve been able to kill them or leave them for the dogs to find, but the United States wasn’t exactly lenient on murder. Although she’d decide how much laws meant to her once she had Parsa to herself. She was fighting for her life, and anyone associated with Darek was bad news for more than just her. These men killed innocent men, women, and children all the time in the name of greed and power.
“Stay right there, Parsa.” She pointed her gun at his face. “Sit down.”
He sat hard in a plain hotel chair, his face wrinkled with worry, and his hands a little shaky. For a man who’d been running around town all day conducting high-powered, super-secret meetings with equally sketchy looking people in black suits, he didn’t put up a fight.
She used plastic cuffs to tie Erfan and Javed together, taking Javed’s gun and assorted other objects they had on them. Then she tore a tablecloth into a couple of strips and used it to tie gags around the two men’s mouths. The best-case scenario was Felix would find them in the morning. Too bad that wasn’t going to happen. By chance or on purpose, Felix would know what was happening long before daylight broke.
She took their cell phones and slid them into her handy leg pockets. “Let’s go.” She waved her gun toward Parsa to get him up and moving. They had to get out of the room in case someone reported all the commotion.
The end of her gun stuck into his ribs. “Nothing fancy, or I kill you.”
“You must be a crazy lady.” He adjusted his gray tie and buttoned his black suit jacket as he stood.
“You’re about to find out.” She pushed him forward and hung the “do not disturb” sign on the door handle to buy herself some time. “You and I are going to have a little chat about who you work for. It can be as friendly or not as you’d prefer.”
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