“And is he still held by our agents?”
She nodded. “He is. Oh, he most definitely is. But as of last year, there’s another man out there who claims he was at this meeting and he is the blood brother of the man held at the black site. For revenge, he directed the bombing of our embassy in Sofia last year and the one in Ethiopia last month. We know because he left notes, claiming responsibility afterward.”
“And the notes seem legit?” he asked.
“Yes. He knows details only one who directed the bombings could tell.”
Grant stroked her back. “What does he want?”
“He demands all those at the meeting be made known to him. He calls himself Hakim, the Judge.”
Grant understood her challenge now to complete the assignment. “And aside from Hakim, you have to identify two more radicals?”
“Yes. But I worry as time passes that my memory will fade. Still we know that personal recollections are better than computer ID. Meanwhile, Hakim is looking for those who attended the meeting, for all who saw his face.”
“How do you know this?”
“The man who took me to the desert—Ahmed Suleiman—knew who I was. He sent me an email two weeks ago to tell me he had heard this through his own channels.”
“Suleiman had your email address?”
“My public one, yes.”
“Well, where is Mr. Suleiman?” Grant demanded, his brain firing on all pins. “Can we find him? Has the Agency tried?”
She winced. “Yes, they found Ahmed five days ago. In Paris. In an apartment in the Marais.”
“The Marais? What’s an Egyptian doing in the old Jewish sector of Paris?”
“Living there. Hiding there.”
“What does he say? Have they gotten anything useful from him yet?”
“He’s cooperating because he’s not a radical. But he’s afraid of Hakim and his friends. I know Ahmed, Grant. He’s thoughtful and kind.”
“He should have thought twice about taking you to a meeting like that.”
“Evidently so should I.”
“Do you have evidence anyone is following you?” He held his breath, hoping her answer was not what he suspected.
“Only that feeling when the hair on your arms stands up.”
That killed him. But he didn’t move a muscle. Wouldn’t frighten her more than she was. Grant knew what he should do. Tomorrow. He’d put Todd on this in the morning. A call to Langley. A call to my Paris office.
For now, she was here and damn if she didn’t need him. And what he could give her. For sure, what he could give her was mindlessness. Ecstasy to chase always the shadows. And cast his feelings for her once more into stone. To hell with his pride. She needed him. He wanted her. What else could matter?
“Sweetheart,” he murmured as he hooked his hands in the thin straps of her gown, sweeping the gauzy thing down over her breasts and hips to swish to the carpet. He bent and caught her up in his arms. If he could absorb her into his body, he would. To keep her safe. Keep her alive and his.
He laid her down across the mattress and hovered over her on all fours. He captured her mouth. “We’re going to deal with this. In fact, it’ll be my pleasure. Yours too I hope.”
She nodded, grateful and eager. “Yes. Please, yes. I knew I was such a fool to have lost you. But I didn’t know what to do. I had to end all this and yet I had no way. The past few years have been a rollercoaster, a nightmare and—”
He kissed her. “It’s over. I’m here. And I understand.”
“Oh, but all this time,” she whispered, her hands drifting over his shoulders.
“We’ll make up for it.”
“How can we?”
He fisted his hands in her hair. “Let me tell you what I feel for you.”
Her lips parted and her eyes glowed.
“I love your curls.” He tugged at her hair and she smiled, wriggling against the linens. “I love your temples. They throb, did you know, when you’re tense?”
She gulped. “No.”
He put his lips there and beneath them, her pulse changed tempo. From tension to desire. Good, babe. “And your cheeks blush when you’re in heat.”
She traced his jaw with a fingertip. “That’s easy. With you, I’m hot round the clock.”
“Mmm, so good to know.” He nipped her chin. “You are so fine, I want to eat every bit of you.”
“Oh,” she crooned, her arms trying to pull him down, “and you are just the man to do it, too.”
“You know I will,” he promised and trailed his lips down her throat to her cleavage.
She stilled.
“Under here,” he said as he kissed her beneath the curve of one breast, and then the other. “And this,” he added as he dipped his tongue inside her navel. “But most of all…”
“Yes?”
“I love your knees.” Grinning, he hooked his hands under both joints and lifted them to bite each one in turn.
“You do not! You are a terrible man!” Chuckling, she batted his shoulders as he continued to kiss the inside of her kneecaps all the way down to her ankle bones.
There, he captured her feet and nipped each toe. “Wow, love the taste of these!”
“Toe jam? You are nuts, Warwick!”
“You bet your sweet ass. Nuts for you, babe. And you know it.” He was laughing with her. “So roll over and let me tell you what else I love.”
Her violet eyes flashed with expectation. “Yeah?”
He glared at her and she flipped to her tummy.
This time, he started with the backs of her knees. He dropped kisses to each one and grunted. He nibbled his way up her thighs and when he got to her sweet cheeks, he blew air on her skin.
“For all this, Warwick,” she threatened, her face in the sheets, “I am going to get you good.”
He levered up and bit her shoulder, “Bet on it.”
She pressed her hips into the mattress.
He sat on his haunches and splayed his fingers on her back, massaging any remaining tension from her scapulae. He felt the delicacy of her small waist. The plush wealth of her ass cheeks.
His forehead dropped to her back. How had he ever been so blessed to find her? How damn long he had missed her!
He sank his fingers between her cheeks. She was so soft. Wet. His.
He reared up and rolled her over. In one move, he grabbed her knees and pushed them up and back beside her torso. This way, he had a full view of her delicate body.
He had to force himself to remember to grab a condom. He shoved the damn thing on and sank deep inside her.
Her heat robbed him of breath.
He drove farther. In a long furious set of thrusts, he took her up and pounded into her with a fury she matched. She squeezed her eyes shut and groaned through her teeth. Together, they rode higher, faster, farther than before. The summit was a sharp high peak and the slide down was a pulsing ride of bliss.
Minutes later, he rose up on shaking arms. He tugged at her hand. Limp as silk, she rose but draped against him, exhausted, her head lolling. He swept her up and took her into the bathroom. Standing her against her wall, he kissed her as he rolled off the condom, tied it and dropped it in the trash, then reached inside the shower and warmed up the water.
“Come here, babe,” he led her in, his arms wrapping around her to hold her up. “Let me wash you. We’ll both sleep better.” If I can keep my hands off you. Then tomorrow, I’ll worry about what we’re doing to set you free.
Chapter Six
She awakened to the luscious suck of hard lips over one of her nipples. She stretched, a smile spreading heat through her body. “I’m boneless,” she announced in a husky tone filled with last night’s joys.
“Yeah?” Grant chuckled, his deep voice an enticement. “Well, I’m not!”
“Yum,” she purred and rubbed her leg against his. But slid to one side. “I’ve got to brush my teeth! Among other things!”
He shifted to allow her up, his
black brows wiggling at the sight of her naked. “Thought you’d be appreciative! I certainly am of what I see!”
“I promise to come back.” She pointed at his impressive length. “Hell,” she moaned and put a hand over her eyes. “I’ve got to stop ogling you!”
He shot out a hand to try to catch her.
But she made a bee-line for the john.
In the bathroom, she took one look at herself in the mirror. My god. She looked like a different woman. Wild. Hair sticking up. Lips red from kisses.
She whirled for the toilet and then returned to stare at her reflection again. She was pink, rosy. Flushed with fulfillment like she had not known since she’d left him. She picked her toothbrush out of her cosmetics case, plastered toothpaste on it and scrubbed her teeth. Her eyes twinkled back at her. She giggled. Sex could do that for a girl. Love did more.
She rinsed her teeth and stuck her brush back in its traveling case. Grabbing a small towel, she put it under the faucet. Why didn’t they have washcloths in European countries? “It’s not like they’re broke.”
“Who?” Grant walked into the room, the hotel robed on, and closed the door to the toilet.
She held up the wet toweling. “All over Europe, you could kill for a face cloth.”
“I’ll buy you a carload.”
Chimes rung in the next room.
“What’s that?” she asked. “Your phone?”
“Probably.” He came out and bolted for the bedroom. “Should be my right hand man in Houston, Todd. Or it better be. I texted him last night to call me ASAP.”
She frowned and stood in the doorway as he searched for his phone amid the disordered room. “When did you do that? I didn’t notice.”
“After you fell asleep.”
She really had been exhausted if she hadn’t felt Grant leave the bed. “Okay. So we need room service. I’ll call while you do your thing.”
“No! You are not here. Remember?” He warned her with a stern look and punched his keypad. “Hello? Yeah. Hey, good. Thanks for this.”
“Coffee,” she murmured to herself and walked to the bathroom.
She flapped her arms in surrender, got into her shower and turned the taps. Using the time to wash her hair and revive from her extended bout of exercise last night, she did her thing and stepped out of the shower refreshed. She padded into her own bedroom and from her meager assortment of clothes, found underwear, tee-shirt and jeans. Letting her hair dry naturally, she ran her fingers through her curls and strolled back in to his rooms.
Grant paced the floor, frowning in the midst of his conversation with Todd. “I don’t care what strings you have to pull. I want as much as you can get and I need it in an hour. Also, I need the private number for Nick Chekov at the American Embassy. I’ve got to talk to him. Yes, I’ll wait.” He glanced at the clock on the table and threw her a perfunctory smile.
She sat down on the edge of the bed to listen.
“You’ve got it? Okay. I’m ready.” He jotted down a number on the hotel stationary. “Fax me those newspaper clips as soon as you can put them together. Right, to my phone. No need to encrypt them. Public knowledge, right? Right.And, ah, that first matter? Yes, I want that by five. I know it’s a rush, but give the man a bonus and fly it over. Good enough. Bye.”
Grant sat for a minute, staring out the window.
Coco went to put her arms around his neck and kiss his bald head. “You okay?”
“I’ve been better.” He sent his hands up her arms, put his lips to the crook in her elbow.
She sighed. “I’ve brought you trouble.”
He pulled her down and around to sit on his lap. “I deal in it. My job to stop it.”
She gave him a sweet kiss. “No better man.”
“Glad you agree.” He flashed her an evil grin.
She chuckled.
His phone rang.
She glanced down at it as the screen illuminated. A fax had arrived in his inbox. “What are you getting from Todd?”
“News stories on Maria’s attack from the San’a embassy.”
“I saw them. They were brief. Only three. Not many saw the dangers or the implications.”
“Todd’s getting me our embassy report to fill in the blanks. There may be facts there no one knew.”
“The Agency would have shared that with me.”
He stared at her, his expression grave. “This will be a check. Don’t you think?”
His solemnity unraveled her confidence. “Okay, okay. Maybe.”
“Honey, you know certain facts are shared on a basis of Need To Know.”
“I do.” She clasped her hands and turned away from him. Would anyone hide pertinent details from her? Certainly, they would. “How did you finagle the embassy report?”
“I’m a magician.” He winked at her and picked up his phone. “Let me read this.”
As he did, his expression went from concerned to alarmed. When he looked up at her again, his voice was flat. “The Yemeni police have questioned the boys who attacked Maria and her friend and the kids do sound as if they were looking for a trim, blonde American woman.”
“Assumptions can be nightmares,” she said as she rubbed her arms. “Maria’s the one who suffered for my involvement. I’m going to try to help her all I can.”
“Let’s hope the doctors can save her sight.”
Coco tried to smile but had little hope. “What else is Todd getting for you this morning?”
“A report on Ahmed Suleiman.”
“The Agency won’t give that to a private citizen.”
“I’m not asking Langley.”
“No?” Why should she be surprised?
“I have a friend.”
She snorted. “To get that report you would have to have a friend more powerful than God!”
“So that means after I have it, you’ll tell me how well I’m connected?”
She cuffed him.
“Meanwhile, I’m calling room service for breakfast. Anything special?”
“Chocolate cornettos and lots of coffee. With cream.”
“Wow. I never met a woman so unafraid of calories.” He picked up the house phone, made the order and went for the bathroom. “Do not open that door while I’m in the shower. I’ll be out in a flash. But if Todd calls back, get me right away.”
As he showered, she brooded. Trapped in a hotel room with a man she’d needed for years was one thing. But she was also trapped in a nightmare from which she couldn’t escape. All because she’d done her job and gone with a nice man to a political meeting one day in the desert. Because she had a damn brilliant memory for faces. And so many people knew that aside from taking pictures with her camera, she took inedible portraits of others with her mind’s eyes.
Now she shook. She was scared she’d never get a rest from the worry of being stalked. Hunted. Never be free of the Agency. Worse, that she’d involved Grant in this one hideous fuck-up. If anything happened to him because he was trying to protect her, she’d never live it down. Never live again. At all. She’d thrown over the one great relationship with a man she’d ever had because she worked for the Agency. Now that she’d made amends with Grant, to lose him again would be the worst horror, the most hideous payback. She couldn’t let that happen.
Grant’s phone rang again. She picked it up and read the signature line. Todd.
“Grant!” She took it in to him.
He stepped out, grabbing a towel and the phone. “Here I am. Yeah? What do you have?”
Coco left him to his conversation, but from the sounds he made as she walked away, she knew whatever he was hearing was not good news.
Sitting on the chaise, she waited for him. But when he came back in, one look at his glazed eyes and she knew whatever he’d learned was disastrous.
“What’s wrong?” She stood.
Grant stepped closer, grasping her upper arms. “I won’t sugar coat this. The Paris police found Ahmed Suleiman the day before yesterday. In his apartment.�
� Grant brushed hair back from her cheeks. “He’s dead, Coco. Murdered.”
“Oh, Grant, no.” Tears sprang to her eyes. Ahmed was a sweet man. “He hated violence and this is—” She clamped a hand over her mouth.
“He didn’t deserve this then. He was tortured.”
“How?” she rasped.
Grant winced.
“I want to hear. Tell me.”
“His tongue was cut out and left on the table by his body. Beneath his tongue was a note.”
“Claiming responsibility?”
“And giving a warning.”
To whom? “What did it say?”
“‘Beware to all women at the meeting of the Stars of the Desert.’”
She swallowed hard. “It’s true then! Hakim is hunting me!”
Grant tipped up her chin. His jaw set. His look fierce. “We’ll get some caffeine so we’ll both be firing on all cylinders.” He gave her lips a light kiss and hugged her close. “We’ll sit and talk. Make a list of everything you know about Hakim and his buddies. What he said, what they did, how they all looked. We’ll figure this out. Find a way to end this. Keep you safe. For all time. Do you hear me?”
“I do.”
He examined her. “What are you thinking?”
She stepped backwards and ran her hands through her hair. “I have to find Hakim before he finds me.”
“We do,” Grant corrected her.
“Yes. We do. But how?” She gave him a small smile. She folded her arms as Grant sat in the chair to watch her.
Which of the two radicals remaining was Hakim? Langley had pictures of suspects and she’d been over and over them. None had struck her as the two still at large. Had she made any mistakes in recollecting the attendees at that meeting? She’d been so certain about identifying the first two and then the third man in Madrid. Since Maria’s attack, she’d been over and over the memory a thousand times. Discussed it as many times with her control, others at headquarters. She’d seen mug shots, action pix. So many, so often. Was her famous photographic memory of faces and body types failing her?
Another thought occurred to her. She strode to her purse in the other room and dug around for her cell. Powered it up. Called the relay number to her control. She walked the floor, sat at the desk, paced again. Her phone rang.
Tall, Hard and Trouble Page 16