She had her head back on the bathtub and her eyes closed. Earbuds from her iPod were in her ears. She rocked her head in time with whatever she was listening to. The delicate motion created eddies that were echoed by her breasts.
Rafe stood there, taking her in. He couldn’t help it. Seeing her naked took him back to the time when he was twelve years old and had discovered his uncle Pete’s Playboy stash. He’d been living with his parents in upstate New York then. He’d had a dog and a tree house and had been utterly innocent in so many ways.
He’d flipped through that magazine and promised himself when he got old enough he’d have a girlfriend who looked just like Miss May.
Then he’d grown up and discovered that women were more complicated than pinups. There were a lot of beautiful women in the world. He’d shared drinks and dinner and beds with several of them.
But none of them left him feeling the way he did now. Lying there in that bathtub with the soap only partially covering her, Shannon Connor could have been a pinup just like the ones he’d grown up with. There still remained that sense of innocence and fun about her.
Most women merely got naked.
Shannon was…unearthly.
It was the most amazing thing Rafe had ever seen.
Then her eyes opened and she looked at him. She screamed and slapped a torrent of water over him.
Chapter 11
R afe didn’t have time to escape the waterfall thrown in his direction. In a heartbeat he was drenched. He stood there in the doorway, the pistol at his side, and refused to give up the territory he’d claimed. He dripped onto the floor.
“What are you doing in here?” Shannon exploded. “Get out!”
The illusion of unearthly beauty faded in a heartbeat.
Shannon reached for a nearby towel and dragged it into the water in an attempt to cover her body. Since the material floated, the effort was only partially successful.
“Knocking,” she said loudly. “Have you ever tried it?”
Irritated and embarrassed because he wasn’t in the habit of walking in on naked women unless by invitation, Rafe banged his knuckles on the door. Shannon still had the earbuds in place. She couldn’t hear him.
Shannon’s harsh gaze softened a little. Sheepishly she reached up for the earbuds. “You did knock.”
“Three times.” Rafe turned his back to her. “When I didn’t hear you, I got worried.”
“Oh.”
“Now that I know you’re okay, I’m going to leave.” Rafe started to pull the door closed behind him. The water-soaked clothing was already turning cold under the room’s air-conditioning.
“Hey,” she called.
“Yeah.”
“Thanks for coming to check on me.”
“You’re welcome.”
“But there’s something you need to know.”
He waited, but he didn’t turn around.
“If someone does come after me, you’ll be able to tell.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Rafe pulled the door closed behind him. He looked down at his drenched clothing and blew out an angry breath. Allison, after this, you owe me big-time.
While Rafe was going through the boxes of clothes looking for a dry shirt, someone knocked on the door. Drawing his weapon, he stepped into the closet beside the door rather than stand behind the door. If someone wanted to surprise him by shooting through the door before they broke in, they’d be even more surprised not to find him there.
“Who is it?” he asked.
“I got a pizza delivery.”
Rafe slid the pistol back into the holster and asked how much the order was. When he got the quote, he slid the money and tip under the door.
“Just leave the pizza. I’ll get it when I get dressed.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
After a moment, Rafe looked through the peephole. No one was in the hallway. He opened the door and brought the pizza inside. He left the food on the table by the balcony, then walked down to the vending area, bought three Diet Cokes and three waters, put them in the room’s ice bucket and filled the bucket the rest of the way with ice.
When he got back to the room, Shannon was out of the bath and dressed in a terry-cloth robe that accentuated her figure in ways it wasn’t intended to. The effect was especially noticeable as she bent over the table to divvy the pizza onto paper napkins. Rafe forgot about being mad.
“Want a piece?” Shannon asked.
It was about then that Rafe realized he’d forgotten he knew the language. The terry-cloth material had left little to the imagination.
Shannon turned, holding a piece of pizza in her hand. “Pepperoni or sausage?”
Rafe tried to speak and couldn’t. He had to clear his throat to get his voice working again. “Sure.”
“Which?”
“One of each.”
Shannon placed the pizza on a napkin. “We don’t have any plates.”
“My fault. I forgot to ask for any.”
“Plates would have made everything simpler.”
Rafe bit back a reply about how if she hadn’t gotten involved with Vincent Drago, everything would have been peachy. He set the ice bucket of drinks on the table, scooped up the pizza and walked to the balcony. He peered through the window, wondering if Allison had her people in place.
“Expecting company?” Shannon asked.
“The police are looking for you. Anything can happen.” Rafe turned to her and pointed at the lamp to remind her about the bug.
Shannon mouthed the words, I know. Then aloud she said, “I was watching the news.”
“Learn anything?”
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
Rafe looked at the television, then used the remote control he found on the bed to turn up the audio. Unable to talk about what was really on their minds because the room was bugged and because apparently neither of them was in the mood for small talk, they watched television and ate in silence.
Things didn’t look promising. The bar’s camera clearly showed Shannon when she’d entered the bar and joined Vincent Drago. They also had some really bad pictures of him that he felt certain they couldn’t use to identify him.
When he finished eating, Rafe sat and flicked through the various news stations. He knew channel-hopping was probably driving Shannon crazy, but he didn’t care.
“Why don’t you go soak your leg?” Shannon asked.
It was only then that Rafe realized he was massaging his knee the way he had in the weeks shortly after the surgery, before the pain had turned into something he found tolerable. Tonight the aches had teeth.
“The tub has a whirlpool function,” Shannon said. “Maybe it’ll help.”
Rafe was going to refuse the suggestion on general grounds of cussedness. That would be really stupid. You’re going to need your knee in shape when you walk off this assignment tomorrow. He wasn’t holding out any hope for tonight. Go soak the knee and keep it loose.
“All right.” Rafe stood and drained the last of his Diet Coke.
“While I’m in there, you might want to keep the television down low and not use the earbuds. It’s just a suggestion.”
Shannon’s eyes narrowed and her jaw locked, but she didn’t say anything.
Rafe took a change of clothes and headed to the bathroom.
What an arrogant butthead! Shannon sat on the bed and painted her toenails. Whenever she was majorly stressed—and being on the run from the police after nearly being killed counted as major stress—she could work on either stories or nails.
She didn’t have a handle on the story that was breaking loose around her. So it was nails. Either toenails or fingernails would work. As tired as she was, she didn’t trust her fine motor skills to deal with fingernails.
She also noticed that he—she thought of other names to call him but settled for the gender-specific at the moment—had left the bathroom door slightly ajar. Doubtless that was because he didn’t trust her to be alert. With the door op
en, he could hear everything that happened in the room.
What he didn’t realize was that the positioning of the mirrors in the room allowed her to watch him as he undressed.
At first Shannon wasn’t going to watch. She didn’t like thinking that watching some Neanderthal remove his trappings of civilization was of any interest to her. But when he’d pulled his shirt off and revealed a broad chest and rock-hard abs, she’d been mesmerized.
She felt a little guilt at watching.
It’s only fair, she told herself. He saw you starkers.
Finished with her toenails, at least for the moment, she capped the polish and set it aside.
The water in the tub was so hot it filled the room with steam that partially obscured her view. That was aggravating, but there was enough clarity that she didn’t have to guess at much.
What there was turned out to be impressive. She wouldn’t have guessed that much. An anticipatory quiver peaked in her stomach and her loins. She lay back on the bed and stared into the bathroom.
His body was a tapestry of scars. Most of them were old, but there were a lot of new ones, as well. He was muscular and defined. He’d been working out and it showed. He sat on the edge of the tub with his feet in the water as if gathering his nerve to crawl in.
Shannon took in the sight of his naked back, his wide shoulders and that firm butt that was so white against his bronzed skin. Wherever he’d been, he’d stayed outside most of the summer. That kind of tan didn’t come out of a bottle or a tanning booth.
Before Shannon knew it, her hand had drifted down past her stomach and was threatening to continue on farther south where her body demanded release. Reluctantly, definitely aware that she would have had enough time before he finished his bath, she curled her fingers into a fist and drew it away. Frustration on several levels bit into her.
You need to think about something else. She even managed to turn her head away from the open gap presented by the bathroom door. How she could even think of something like that after the events of the evening was beyond her.
She concentrated on the television news, but it was already becoming repetitive. Her iPhone vibrated on the bed beside her. She checked the screen and saw Gary’s picture there.
“Hello?” Shannon answered.
“Hey. I got lucky on your man of mystery. That advice about the military connection was mucho solid.”
Conscious of the bug in the room, Shannon watched what she said. She sat up on the bed.
“All right,” she said.
“His name’s Rafe—short for Raphael—Santorini, but he’s still mysterious. At least for the moment. My cyber minions are pursuing him even now. Whatever secrets he’s got, he’s not going to get to keep them.”
A picture floated to the surface on the iPhone’s view screen. It was of the man, but it had been taken before he’d gotten the scars on his face and neck.
“Give me the TV Guide version for the moment,” Shannon instructed. “Then e-mail me whatever you get.”
Gary sounded disappointed. “All right. I just put a lot of hard work into gathering this quickly.”
“It’ll still be appreciated later. When I’m digging into the file for myself.”
“Okay. I’ve pulled up his military record. He was in the United States Army Rangers for eight years. From what I can tell—and some of this information hasn’t yet been released for public consumption—most of those eight years were spent in combat.”
That explains the scars, Shannon thought. “That background doesn’t tell me what he’s doing here now.”
“Six and a half years ago, he left the military. The feeling I get is that he turned spook.”
Spook as in government agent, Shannon thought.
“During the last year of his military career he remained constantly on loan to the CIA, the DEA and other agencies of that ilk. What he did there is still beyond my reach at the moment, but I think we can safely think what he was doing was bloody and violent. When he mustered out, even though the Army had been willing to keep him around, he left. He files tax forms that list him as a partner in a New York private investigations firm, but I checked with people who’ve used that firm. Santorini’s name is on the door, but he’s hardly ever there. Kind of a silent partner. I don’t know about you, but that sounds like government agent to me.”
Shannon silently agreed. She’d been on the fringe of operations she wasn’t supposed to know enough about to know what she was supposed to know and what she wasn’t. Some of those stories had been painful to let go when she couldn’t get corroboration.
Thinking of the man—of Rafe, she amended—as a soldier helped. Most of them didn’t think for themselves. They just followed the commands of God and President. He was there doing what the woman told him to do.
“What is this craziness you’re involved in?” Gary asked. “You’re in the nation’s capital with a bona fide hero who might also be a hit man for the federal government—and you’re wanted for murder.”
“That wasn’t me,” she insisted. “I never killed anyone.”
She glanced back at the bathroom. Rafe had finally crawled into the tub. Everything might have now been hidden, but she could still see his face—sans sunglasses, even—and his shoulders. Either of those would have been acceptable to her.
Except that he was potentially the enemy.
“I believe you,” Gary said. “But they’re trying you in the media.”
She knew that, too. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about that at the moment.
“E-mail me those files,” she told Gary. “And keep digging. It would help if I knew which government agency he’s working for.”
“I will. You just stay safe.”
Shannon said she would, but she felt paranoid when she did. What if someone out there tracked the call? They could do that now. She’d done stories covering that technology.
She broke the connection and started to lay the iPhone aside. It vibrated again. She guessed that it was Gary again. He called often when he was researching a story because he didn’t want to make mistakes. For all his computer guruism, he was still occasionally insecure.
But it wasn’t Gary. The view screen was completely blank except for the declaration: Your life is in danger.
Chapter 12
S haken, Shannon glanced at the bathroom. He—Rafe, she reminded herself—was still in the tub. The wispy hot water fog eddied around the bathroom and blurred him as he sat in the whirlpool.
She opened the iPhone to the miniature keyboard. Shaking a little, she typed rapidly with her thumbs.
Who are you?
A friend.
All my friends have names.
I am Kwan-Sook.
The name looked Chinese to Shannon. She wasn’t an expert, but it definitely fit the bill.
I don’t know anyone by that name.
We’ve never met. I’ve worked with you for years, giving you little snippets of information here and whispers of secrets there.
Shannon’s heart beat faster. She didn’t know if it was the person she’d been working with for so long. In fact, she didn’t know if the name Kwan-Sook belonged to a male or a female. It might have been the name of a species of lizard or lotus.
Where have you been? I haven’t heard anything from you in months. I thought something had happened to you.
Things have been very difficult for me. We share an enemy that is very crafty. I’ve been forced to become more crafty. Contacting you now is not without risk.
How can I trust you?
How can you not? Your whole life has changed tonight. You don’t have the luxury of staying still at this time. If you’re going to keep on living, you’ve got to take control of your fate.
Shannon didn’t have an argument for that.
Being in charge of what’s happening to me sounds fantastic.
Good.
Except that I’ve not got a whole lot of experience eluding the police.
I c
an help you. I will help you.
For a moment Shannon just concentrated on her breathing. She glanced at the bathroom and saw that Rafe seemed to be asleep in the tub, his head tilted back. The dark bulk of the pistol sat on a small table he’d pulled closer. The weapon was within easy reach.
The view screen pulsed with the arrival of a new message.
I need you to escape that room.
Even if I did, where would I go?
Come here.
Where?
To Hong Kong.
Shannon stared at the iPhone’s view screen in disbelief. Hadn’t Rafe’s woman contact mentioned Shanghai? Not Hong Kong? She wasn’t sure. She was tired and she knew her mind might be playing tricks on her.
I can’t get there. I’m wanted in a murder investigation. My passport and identification are going to be flagged in airport computers everywhere. I won’t be able to get out of the country.
If you’ll allow me, I can get you out.
Why?
Because I can’t tell the story that needs to be told without you. I need you to be free to find out things I can’t. When you do, I need you to tell the world.
What’s the story?
Do you know the man you’re with?
Shannon typed, No because she’d learned a long time ago never to give up more information than she got. Furthermore, it would be a test of “Kwan-Sooks’” knowledge.
His name is Rafe Santorini. He’s an agent for your country’s National Security Agency.
Beneath the Surface Page 10