Her ensuite had a soaker tub and an assortment of expensive bath products. She looked over the pretty bottles, smelling each one, not wanting to use anything that would interfere with her perfume, and settled on bubble bath solution that had little fragrance. As the water and bubbles grew she anticipated a few wonderful minutes of relaxation. There was a discreet knock on her door. Why did everyone want to visit her in the bathroom?
“Come in,” she said.
Elizabeth entered the room with her prune face in place. So deep were the lines around her mouth it looked as though her grimace had been etched into her face at birth. “Madam, would you like a glass of wine, or perhaps sherry?”
How civil. Had they reinstalled cameras already? Sheesh, they were busier spying than she was. “I’d like a tall glass of ice-water,” Sadie said.
Elizabeth retreated. When she returned with the requested refreshment, Sadie had submerged her long body beneath the bubbles. “Thank you.”
The woman disappeared again.
After her bath, Sadie slipped on a green silk dress that hugged her curves. She brushed her hair and pulled it up into a loose chignon on top of her head. Then she put on her face. Black liner around her eyes and shades of green and silver eye-shadow gave her a sultry, in-the-mood look. Red, red lipstick with a gloss applied on top made her full lips stand out.
Then she put on her night perfume. Mitch called it her “fuck-me” elixir.
During the day Sadie wore a classic scent, Guerlain’s Shalimar, created in the 1920s. Its sexy signature had a vanilla-amber base and a touch of civet and lemon that always drew attention.
But for evenings she chose a rare fragrance that rocked a room in seconds, Serge Luten’s Sarrasins, a Moroccan-inflected, jasmine fragrance. She’d discovered it when she did a fashion show in Paris five years ago. Luten said he took the essence of the white jasmine flower and made it as black as a black panther. It smelled like a fertile woman in heat, a woman who knew what she wanted and wanted it now; a sensual temptress who loved all aspects of sex. She considered it her get-lucky charm. She’d bring Bakari down, one way or another.
Sebastian kept her in good supply of Sarrasins, even though it cost a fortune. But then she’d always found men willing to go all the way to the Lutens boutique in the Palais Royal in Paris to buy it for her.
But no one was like Sebastian. She didn’t need to be thinking of him right then. She inhaled the scent as she dabbed it between her breasts, and memories, erotic memories, flowed through her mind. It didn’t make getting ready for another man easier.
Bare legs or garter belt? Which would he prefer? She picked up her white-lace garter belt and felt its slinky softness. He’d like the feel of that and it might slow him down. It had cost her a fortune in her favorite shop in Florence, but was worth every penny. After sliding it into place she pulled on sheer nylons with black seams running up the back. Very 1930s, but some fashion statements never stopped pulling in the men. The black line drawn up her long legs worked.
The garter line showed when she smoothed the dress over it, but that would only increase his anticipation. Anticipation… So much a part of her strategy.
No panties tonight. Looking directly in the mirror, she smiled at the spy with the red lipstick in place, ready to get the job done.
31
Chapter Thirty-One
At precisely seven, Sadie strode into the dining room with all the panache she’d learned on the cat walk, moving her hips in an exaggerated sway, pushing up her breasts and holding her chin high. Her lips set in a provocative pout gave her the look that had made millions. She felt his presence before she actually looked at him.
Bakari was that kind of man, a raw, alpha male who exuded energy and power. He stood and held the back of a chair for her. As she swept by him, she made sure her breast brushed his arm, which immediately made her nipple hard under the thin, silk material.
His arm stiffened and he made a small, guttural, sound low in his throat. “Nice perfume,” he said as he pushed the chair in behind her.
“Thank you.” Looking up at him standing above her, she narrowed her eyes for a moment like a cat ready to purr.
“It’s my pleasure to please you,” he said. His voice, usually commanding and hard edged, sounded softer tonight. Maybe he did know how to be a lover. He sat down across from her.
He wore a light-blue shirt, open at the neck, so that his black chest hair peeked through, and black dress pants, pressed perfectly. His olive skin glowed with energy. His black eyes held the same combustible intensity she remembered from their night together in Cairo, the intensity of a man used to getting his way. The candle light reflected on the oil he had applied in his short, black hair.
She slid off her stilettos. Should she run her foot up his inner thigh? Wander with her toes? No. Too soon. She needed to make her seduction long and slow, get as much information as she could out of him. He needed to sweat more. A lot more. “I always enjoy your company,” she said.
“White wine?”
She nodded and Bakari poured. “I chose the same wine we drank in Egypt.”
The maid appeared with a platter of seafood appetizers, slices of lox wrapped around cream cheese on crackers, small dishes of shrimp salad topped with a red-hot sauce, grilled scallops wrapped in prosciutto.
“No oysters?”
A slow smile spread across his face, softening his rigid features. “I don’t need them.”
Taking a scallop in her hand she brought it to her mouth and paused for a second, looked first at Bakari then took a bite. She chewed slowly, dramatically. Yes, her antics were textbook, but they worked. His eyes held onto her mouth.
Bakari leaned back, his olive skin flushed. “Why are you here, Sadie?”
The tone in his voice when he said her name, part simmering lust and part distrust, sent shivers up her spine. “Like I said on the phone. I wanted to see you.”
“Because you broke up with that Dutch man?” The way he said “Dutch-man” and the fact that he didn’t use Sebastian’s name, even though he would know it amused her. Definitely the jealous type. She could work that.
“Yes. We were hot and heavy one moment and at each other’s throat the next. It’s over. And I’m…” she paused as if searching for her words, “looking for a man to fill my bed.” She smiled at him. “And not just any man.”
The right corner of Bakari’s mouth twisted. “I don’t know if I will ever get used to how blunt American women are.”
After a slow sip of wine, she leaned towards him. “I’m a woman who knows what she wants and makes sure she gets it. I think you’ll like that.”
He cocked a brow. “Really. And you want me to believe you came here because you want me? I’m almost twenty years older than you.”
“Don’t get your socks in a knot. I’m not looking for a husband, or a meal ticket, I’m just looking for…” She raised her chin and her lips trembled. “Excitement.”
He leaned back and laughed. “I can give you that.” He paused. “And my secrets?”
“We all have secrets. You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”
His eyes flowed from her face to her breasts and rested there for a moment. He picked up his wine glass and drank like a man.
“Teasing aside, I’d like to get to know you better. How is Rashida doing?”
His facial muscles froze for a second letting her glimpse his pain and then they relaxed. He put down his wine glass. “The Emerald Ankh helped. Her cancer went into remission for five and a half months. The doctors called it a miracle, but I know it was the power of the ancient magic.”
“You really believe that?”
Tilting his head downward he gave her the sort of look a weary teacher gives a student. His eyes hardened and narrowed crinkling the skin around them. His lips pulled back into a half grimace and his jaw firmed.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “The ankh is a beautiful relic, but I don’t believe it holds any real power.”
> “Do you not believe in Einstein?”
Her eyebrows shot up, despite her attempt to keep a placid face. He wanted to talk physics? Now? “What has Einstein got to do with ancient Egyptian lore?”
Bakari took a deep draft of his wine and poured himself more. “According to Einstein’s theory of relativity the universe is made up of energy. It can change its form, but it cannot be destroyed. The sum total of the energy always remains the same.”
“Go on.”
“What I am saying is that there is more to this world than what you see. People die, but their energy remains. Spirits live among us, on the edges of our reality. And, just like people, curses and blessings from the past live on. There are many mysteries in this world.” His eyes didn’t flinch from her face, as if her reaction to what he was saying could change things between them.
She nodded.
“The incantations and rituals of my people in ancient Egypt were strong. The Emerald Ankh has power. Believe me.”
“Einstein?” She picked up another scallop and held it close to her mouth for a second before devouring it.
He flinched. “I am trying to make myself clear. My sources say you are not religious. I thought by appealing to your understanding of science, you might understand.”
She tilted her head and widened her eyes. It would take a hell of lot more than equations to get her to understand this man. But maybe she didn’t need to understand him, to get him to do what she wanted. She waved her hand in the air as if that would sweep away their discussion of metaphysics. “Bakari,” she said in a soft voice, “I am truly sorry about Rashida. Is there anything I can do?”
Bingo. His whole body stopped for a micro-second. A normal person might not have noticed, but Sadie had learned to zone in on body reactions. She’d hit him between the eyes.
“As you probably already know, I am looking for another amulet to help her fight the cancer,” he said.
She leaned forward enough to smell his expensive cologne, and touched his hand. “It won’t help. Why not spend your time with her instead and let her go peacefully.”
He banged his other fist on the table, rattling all the dishes.
Sadie pulled her hand back. “Bakari…”
Closing his eyes for a minute, the space between them stilled. “I’m sorry. It’s just that everyone keeps telling me that. Do you not understand that I love Rashida more than life itself? She is like the sun in my world. A more beautiful person you cannot find.”
Sadie gritted her teeth. “It’s hard to let go when you love someone.”
His black eyes became even darker as he glared at her. “Don’t feed me greeting card crap. Don’t pretend you know how I feel. You’ve never been a parent.” His thin mouth trembled.
Got it. “Bakari,” With a soft, firm voice she aimed her words like a pointed, velvet hammer. “I doubt your wives tell you what they think. For that matter, no one does. Everyone in your world is under your command. I’m an outsider. Let me speak to you honestly.”
He set his glass down. “You would have me stop looking for ways to heal her?”
“I want you to stop stealing. Sooner or later you’ll get caught. From what you’ve told me about Rashida, she would not want you in prison. Especially…when it’s because of her.”
Bakari brought his fist down on the table again. “Rashida knows nothing and it will stay that way.” The hardness of his eyes telegraphed an unmistakable threat. Had she gone too far?
Sadie leaned back in her chair and straightened her spine. “I would never tell Rashida what you’re up to. I wouldn’t want to get between the two of you—ever. You can take my word on that.”
She bit her lip demurely. “But someone else might tell her.” Her eyes scanned the room for a minute as if the answer might be there. “Not the CIA. They like using your business to get things done. But someone else.”
Pausing, pretending to consider the point for the first time, she let a slow, smile steal across her lips. “There is your family.” She needed to weaken his world as much as she could, to bring him over. “Perhaps, politics among those closest to you would loosen their lips. Jealousy destroys even the best families.”
Bakari nodded. “You are a wise woman as well as a stealthy spy. Yes, of course, in my big family there are obvious and not so obvious currents of distrust and tension. Many jealousies. What can a man expect when he’s had four wives and many mistresses?” He reached for his wine glass again.
“And what about your brothers?”
Bakari’s shoulders tensed. He reached over and placed his hand over hers. “Sadie, do you really think you can turn me by insulting my loved ones?”
She stared back and huffed. “I had hoped so, for both our sakes.” She slid her foot up the inside of his leg, playfully, but only as far as his knee.
“And that’s why you’re here.” His lips straightened.
“That and…” She slid her foot higher. “Like I said on the phone, I’m lonely and I thought of you.”
He winced when her toes neared his crotch. A warm glow spread across his face. “Sadie.”
The deep gravel in his voice sent a clear message. Her next move would be pivotal. Was she ready?
The door opened and three servants in prim black uniforms entered. The first two were young women she hadn’t seen before. Without making eye contact they cleared the seafood hors d’oeuvres. Elizabeth followed holding a tray bearing steaming dishes. The smell of sizzling steak and vegetables wafted through the room. Sadie’s stomach gurgled and her foot dropped to the floor.
Sweat beaded on Bakari’s brow, but he gave her an understanding smile.
Saved by a steak! As usual Sadie found herself relying more on serendipity than well forged plans to get the job done. Eating would cool them both down and give her time to think of her next move.
After the plates were placed in front of them and the help left, Bakari poured fresh wine. Her favorite French Cabernet Sauvignon. She kept a case of it in her New York apartment.
He raised his glass. “To new friendships.”
She raised her glass and clinked his. After taking a sip she said, “I have a toast as well.”
He cocked a brow. “And why am I not surprised?”
“To love.” Her eyes melted into his. “It can be found in the most unexpected places.”
He hesitated a moment and then chimed in, “To love.” The edges of his smile trembled in their telling way, but his eyes stayed constant and commanding.
Sadie cut into her steak, a butter-soft, one inch fillet mignon cooked extra-rare, almost blue, just the way she liked it. His research on her had certainly been thorough. Feeling his eyes on her, she took her first bite. The juice of the meat exploded in her mouth. Pure heaven. She moaned.
“Glad you like it. My English cook is very good.”
She looked up at him. He hadn’t even touched his. “It’s awesome.”
“Sadie, you are an amazing woman.”
Now? He wants to sweet talk me now? “Please I’m eating a steak.”
He laughed and cut a piece of his own steak. He raised it to his mouth, then put it back on his plate. “No, now is good. I love your honesty, your freshness…”
“My brashness.”
“Yes, but it’s more than that. You come across like a ball-crusher, but underneath that warrior exterior, you have a soft and caring heart. A true heart. That is what draws me to you.”
Sadie finished chewing her second mouthful. “And now?”
“Tonight, you showed me more of yourself.”
Toes on the balls always works. “Uh-huh.”
“I thought you were beautiful. You are even paid money to show your beauty. But tonight you showed me how…” He paused for a moment. His Adam’s apple went up and down. “Sorry, I don’t want to be crude. English is not my first language.”
Oh boy. Here we go.
“You are all woman. The way your hips sway when you walk. Your scent. Everything about you
is sensual, and if I were not a mature man I would have taken you on top of this table the moment you entered.”
“The table?” She looked at him and raised a brow.
His face froze and glowed. Sweat shone on his skin. She had him hook, line and sinker. He opened his mouth to say something and closed it.
Sadie rose and slowly walked over to him as she pulled out the one pin holding up her hair. Long red curls fell down to her breasts.
His eyes warmed.
Bending to whisper in his ear, her tresses fell over him. “Do you care about the cameras?”
“No.” He groaned as he grabbed her right breast and the nipple hardened in his hand.
Sadie stood, slow enough that his hand had a chance to get a good feel of her body. “I would think a video of you screwing an American spy on the supper table might get you into trouble with some of your associates.”
His mouth firmed and he didn’t say anything for a minute. A long minute.
She leaned back down beside him, brushed her cheek against his, which was just starting to show stubble, and nibbled his ear lobe. “Can you turn the cameras off?”
He grabbed her hips and pulled her into his lap. His enormous erection pushed against her body as she settled in.
She laughed, until he brought her mouth down to his and kissed her long and deeply. She stifled a shudder and moaned like a well-priced hooker.
His other hand slid up her inner thigh, cupped her and squeezed possessively. And then he stopped. With sweat covering his face, he released her.
What was wrong? Had she made a mistake?
Panting, and with eyes, glazed over with lust, he shook his head. “Later,” he said.
“No cameras?”
“I promise.”
“The table?”
He gave her a roguish smile. “I’d prefer my bed.”
After lifting a brow, she said, “We can start there.” Slowly, she sauntered back to her seat, feeling his eyes on her body, his desire growing by the minute. His lust squeezed the air out of the room, making it hard to breathe. Bakari al-Sharif was not a man to be denied. A cold shudder ran up her spine as she took her seat.
Ancient Danger Page 14