Harlequin Intrigue November 2013 - Bundle 2 of 2

by Carla Cassidy

  “I—I’m in a different hotel. Someone was aiming a high-powered weapon into my hotel room this afternoon. I saw the beam on the wall.”

  Zendaris sucked in a breath. “Are you scamming me, Deb?”

  “Are you scamming me? Are you trying to kill me?”

  “Why would I do that? We’re just getting started.” He clicked his tongue. “But maybe your colleagues want you dead.”

  “Never.” Her gaze darted toward Beau slumped in his chair, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. Why had Prospero sent the best in the business after her?

  “Are you sure about that? If the mighty Jack Coburn gets wind of your betrayal, you’re finished.”

  She ground her teeth together. “It’s not a betrayal if it’s coerced.”

  “But they don’t know that, do they? Do they, Deb?”

  “As far as Prospero is concerned, I’m on a leave of absence. They have no reason to suspect otherwise.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Another hotel in Cambridge.” She held her breath. Would he demand the location?

  “Excellent.”

  “What next, Zendaris? A bank robbery? A high-speed chase?”

  “A party.”

  She raised her shoulders at Beau. “You want me to go to a party?”

  “A very special party with very special people.”

  “Where?” Deb licked her lips.

  “In Boston. You’ll be attending the gala fundraiser as part of the Symposium on Alternate Methods of Defense.”

  “What do you want me to do at this party besides eat, drink and be merry?”

  “I want you to get close to Dr. Scott Herndon.”

  “Get close to him and do what?”

  “Kill him.”

  Chapter Five

  Beau bolted upright. The man couldn’t be serious.

  Deb choked out one word. “Why?”

  “That’s not your concern for now. Let’s just say I’m sending a message.”

  “How am I supposed to kill Dr. Herndon in a roomful of people?” She shook her head at Beau, her eyes wide and glassy.

  He wanted to go to her and smooth away the worry, but now wasn’t the time. And what could he possibly say to comfort her? The man had her son and she’d do anything to protect him.

  “I’m leaving the logistics of the crime in your capable Prospero hands, Deb. You figure it out, but at the end of the evening Dr. Herndon will no longer be drawing breath.”

  Beau vaulted from the chair and tapped Deb on the knee. He mouthed, Bobby.

  She closed her eyes. “I’m not killing Dr. Herndon or anyone else until I have proof that my son is okay.”

  “He’s fine, just a little tired. You’ll see when I decide you’ll see.”

  Beau squeezed her knee and shook his head. Zendaris needed her. She had the power right now.

  “No. I need to see or talk to him before the event tomorrow night, or it’s not happening.”

  Zendaris paused and then sighed. “All right. Not tonight. Tomorrow morning. Are you ready for your instructions?”

  For the next five minutes, Zendaris explained to Deb how to pick up her ticket to the event, her identity for the evening, and the dress code. He must’ve given her that wad of cash in the bag to carry out her assignments without leaving a trail of credit card receipts.

  When she ended the call, Beau held out his hand for the phone and she dropped it in his palm.

  He examined it again, but couldn’t see any way to track the number or location of the phone Zendaris used to call her. He didn’t want to take the device apart in case that sent some sort of signal to Zendaris.

  “I can’t kill someone.”

  “You’re not going to kill Dr. Herndon. We’ll figure out a way to trick Zendaris.”

  “I don’t see how. The death of Dr. Scott Herndon is going to be big news.”

  “Prospero never faked a death before?”

  “Prospero may have but I haven’t.”

  “I have, so you’re in luck.”

  She crossed her legs beneath her and pushed the hair from her face. “You were right about demanding to see Bobby. He gave in.”

  “Of course he did.” He dropped the phone back on the bed. “Zendaris needs you. If he harms Bobby now, you’re no longer his puppet.”

  “You were also right about that defense symposium.”

  “It would’ve been clear to you, too, Deb, if you’d been thinking straight. That’s half of Zendaris’s advantage over you, and he knows it. You’re rattled. But he didn’t count on me.”

  “I never thought I could count on you, either.” She grabbed his arm. “Why are you really helping me, Beau? Are you hoping to bag Zendaris on your own? I can’t believe you’d put my son before that goal.”

  “Why do you keep asking me that question, Deb? I told you the prospect of getting close to Zendaris is tempting, but I’m not going to put a child’s life at risk to do it.” He traced the knuckles of her hand. “Can you put aside your trust issues for a while to believe me?”

  She released his arm, leaving crescent imprints from her fingernails. “I don’t know why I should trust you. I never figured you for a family man with any strong feelings for children. So it makes me wonder even more why you’re torpedoing your own assignment to help me.”

  “Maybe I don’t have strong feelings for children.” He ran a hand along her thigh. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t have some feelings for you.”

  “Do you always run around jeopardizing your career for one-night stands?”

  “Are you done eating?” He pushed off the bed and began loading plates and serving dishes back onto the cart.

  “I’m glad I ate before that phone call because I just lost my appetite.” She rolled onto her stomach and planted her elbows on the bed while balancing her chin in one palm. “What did you think of Zendaris?”

  He clanged a silver cover back over a serving dish. “A scumbag of the highest order.”

  “I mean, do you think that was him on the phone? Have you ever heard his voice?”

  “No.” He dabbed at a cake crumb and sucked it into his mouth. “I know he’s of Greek descent and spent time in Italy, so the accent of the guy on the phone would match that. I thought Prospero finally got a line on him. That was the chatter.”

  “We did. The former nanny for Zendaris’s children was able to give us a composite. We know what he looks like now—when he’s not in disguise.”

  “But he’s always in disguise.”

  “Just like you.”

  “Not always.” He ran a hand through his hair, shorter than he usually wore it. “This is my real hair, my real eye color.”

  “You’ve been known to sport a beard, long hair, glasses, extra weight. Why no disguise for this assignment?”

  He shoved the cart ahead of him toward the door. “I guess I wanted you to recognize me. I didn’t wear a disguise that night, either.”

  “You didn’t wear much of anything that night.”

  “Glad you noticed.” He gripped the handles of the cart to the breaking point and wheeled it to the door.

  Her low, throaty voice and half-lidded eyes had caused a jolt of lust to claim half his body—the bottom half. This was the Deb he remembered. This was the Deb he still wanted.

  But she’d pushed him away after the kiss. Why the mixed messages now? Her emotions were all over the place. The fear she felt for her son caused her to seek solace, and maybe the only way she knew how to elicit comfort from him was through seduction. Maybe she just wanted some physical contact, but the only physical contact they knew was sexual.

  Probably wasn’t a good idea to mix business with pleasure, so much pleasure. But then it hadn’t been a good idea to take th
is assignment in the first place. He should’ve come clean to Prospero about his heated fling with Deb.

  He shoved the cart against the wall in the hallway and stepped back into the room. “You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow. You should get some rest. Do you have toiletries? Do you want me to pick some up downstairs? I at least need a toothbrush.”

  “That would be great. I flew into Logan this morning. Zendaris didn’t tell me to pack a bag, so I didn’t.”

  “I’ll pick up the basics, and you can get more of what you need tomorrow when you go shopping for the party dress.”

  “Do you think he’s watching me?”

  “He seemed genuinely surprised by the sniper, and he didn’t ask you the details of your hotel. I don’t think so. He doesn’t need to. He has his insurance.

  “Keep the door locked and chained and don’t open it for anyone.” He strode to the window and pulled the drapes closed even though their window faced the Charles River. “And stay away from the window.”

  He slipped out the door and paused with his head bent until he heard the lock and chain slide into place.

  Waiting for the elevator, he glanced to his left when he heard a door close. He poked his head into the corridor, but all the doors remained closed. Maybe someone had gone for ice or the vending machine.

  He rolled his shoulders and stabbed at the elevator button again. He was on edge and it felt good, natural. He’d let his encounter with Deb throw him off his stride. His assignment may have changed but he was still on assignment. Still on the job.

  The elevator skimmed down to the first floor without stopping. He crossed the lobby and headed for the shop he’d seen when he’d checked in.

  He bought some toothpaste, toothbrushes, a comb and several other items to get them through the night and the next morning. As he grabbed the small bag with his purchases, his cell phone buzzed once in his pocket.

  He exited the store and leaned against the wall outside the restaurant bar. He checked the phone’s display and sucked in a breath. Prospero.

  If he ignored the message, he wouldn’t have to lie to Jack. If he ignored the message, Jack would read that as totally out of character for Loki.

  If Jack wanted status, he’d give Jack status. He’d tell him he’d tracked the quarry to Boston—not a lie. Prospero wouldn’t send anyone else out here to check on his progress. The stalwart men of Prospero trusted him.

  That was their first mistake.

  He sent a text that he might have a lead on Deb heading to Boston. The only response he got from Jack was Roger.

  Yeah, the man still trusted him. But Beau had no intention of letting Jack down, or letting Deb down. He’d stay true to Prospero, help Deb and rescue her son as icing on the cake.

  When he got back to the room, he tapped on the door and stood in full view of the peephole. The hotel staff had removed the room service cart.

  The chain scraped in its slot and the door inched open. Beau pushed it wide. “Are you okay?”

  Deb rubbed her eyes. “I fell asleep. What took you so long?” She yawned and held out her hand for the bag swinging from his fingertips.

  She didn’t need to know he’d had contact with Jack. He tossed the bag to her. “I had a lot of shopping to do.”

  Peering into the bag, she wrinkled her nose. “I’m going to have to do a lot better than this when I hit that party tomorrow night.”

  “You and me both.”

  Her eyes widened as she looked up. “You’re going, too?”

  “How else are we going to stage a murder?”

  * * *

  DEB ROLLED ONTO her stomach and burrowed her head into the pillow, trying to cling to the fading wisps of her dream. Its images had already slipped from her consciousness, but the dream had left her with a feeling of contentment—a feeling all too rare in the daylight hours.

  She hadn’t slept that peacefully since the day she’d lost Bobby, and she owed that sound sleep to the man in the next bed.

  Shifting her head on the pillow, she opened one eye and drank in the sight of Beau sprawled on the bed next to hers, one bare leg hanging off the side, both arms wrapped around a pillow.

  He stirred and murmured something into the pillow.

  Was he having sweet dreams, too? She’d wanted nothing more than to crawl under the covers with him last night, but she recognized the urge for what it was—a need for comfort. He was already doing his part. She couldn’t ask him for his shoulder to lean on in addition to everything else he was doing for her.

  He didn’t owe her anything. Hell, he didn’t even know Bobby was his son.

  She cleared her throat and the noise acted like a prod.

  Beau’s eyes flew open and he bolted upright in the bed. “What?”

  “I’m sorry. I just coughed. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” In fact, she’d been enjoying studying his face in repose. Now she was enjoying the way the sheet had fallen to his waist, exposing his bare chest.

  Maybe she did want more than comfort from Beau. The fire she’d felt when she’d first met him had never died. Being with him again had ignited the kindling flame.

  She averted her gaze. Her attraction for Beau caused knots of guilt to form in her belly. Zendaris had her son. How could she even be thinking about sex?

  Did that make her a bad mother? The fact that she’d allowed her son to be kidnapped made her a bad mother. Cade Stark would’ve never allowed that to happen to his son.

  She buried her face in the pillow.

  “Do you want to have breakfast downstairs before we go shopping?”

  “Zendaris is supposed to send me confirmation that Bobby is okay today, before the party.”

  Beau swung his legs over the side of the bed and planted his feet on the floor with the sheet still twisted around his torso. “He’ll use that cell phone to do it. Keep it with you.”

  “The only clothes I have are the ones I wore yesterday.” She scooted up against the headboard. “I brought some cash with me, so I’m going to pick up a pair of jeans and a few shirts.”

  “All I have is yesterday’s clothes, too. I’m going to need a tux for tonight.”

  “You still haven’t explained how you’re going to get into that party.”

  “One of the guests is going to lose his ticket. Isn’t that what Zendaris told you? All guests needed a ticket?”

  “He said he’d leave mine for me today.”

  “Obviously, if he has you go to a pickup location, you go alone. He and his cohorts might be watching.” Beau rose from the bed and the covers fell from his body.

  His boxer briefs clung to his heavily muscled thighs, and he stretched, the rest of his muscles shifting and bunching.

  “And tonight?” Deb swallowed and tugged the sheet up to her chin. “We’ll have to go separately tonight.”

  “Yeah, just in case he’s watching the crowd. I doubt it though. He’s not going to want to be anywhere near that party especially since Prospero now has an accurate description of him.”

  “But he’s the master of disguise.”

  Beau shrugged. “Aren’t we all? Do you want the shower first?”

  “Go ahead.”

  When Beau disappeared into the bathroom, Deb turned up the volume on the TV. She didn’t need to hear the water running and imagine how Beau looked with it sluicing across the planes of his body. She didn’t have to imagine because she’d seen it—and him—in the flesh.

  Amazing how that one night of unbridled passion had led to Bobby, and in a twisted way had led them back to each other. She’d figured Bobby’s paternity had been her ace in the hole to sway Beau from hunting her to helping her. And she hadn’t even needed it to convince him.

  He’d been ready to help her as soon as she’d explained her predicament to him. He hadn
’t needed to hear that Bobby was his.

  The shower stream stopped and several minutes later, Beau called from the bathroom. “It’s all yours, and I even left you some hot water.”

  They hadn’t had that problem when they’d showered together.

  She dragged the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around her body. She shuffled toward the bathroom, clutching her wrinkled skirt and blouse under one arm.

  Holding her breath, she squeezed past Beau standing at the vanity mirror, the white hotel towel wrapped around his waist, heat emanating from his body.

  “I won’t be long.”

  “Where’s the phone in case he contacts you while you’re in the shower?”

  She opened her hand. “I have it.”

  “Leave it here.” He tapped the vanity.

  She scooted around him to place the phone on the countertop. Then she dove into the bathroom and shut the door. Releasing a sigh, she dropped the sheet and shimmied out of her underwear.

  He hadn’t lied. The hot water pounded her back and she closed her eyes.

  If they could somehow fool Zendaris into believing that she killed Dr. Herndon, would she get Bobby back? She believed Beau when he’d told her that he’d accomplished similar feats in his storied career. She’d known the career before she’d met the man, and he hadn’t disappointed her at all. In any way.

  The pounding on the bathroom door jolted her out of her reverie.

  “Deb, you have a text.”

  She cranked off the faucet and yanked her towel from the rack. “Give me a minute.”

  She squeezed out her hair and tucked the towel around her body. Still dripping, she threw open the door to the vanity. “Did you open it?”

  “No.” He held the phone out to her and she took it with a damp hand.

  It took her two tries to hit the right button to open the text message. The picture that greeted her had her sinking to the floor in a puddle.

  “What is it?” Beau hovered above her. “Are you okay?”

  She turned the phone out toward him, tears flooding her eyes. “It’s Bobby.”