by Mandy Baxter
“I’m sure you’ve both got a lot of skills to impart.” Her flirtatious tone caused Mason’s gut to clench. He hated when she spoke to Kieran that way. As though she were actually interested in him.
“That’s the truth.” Kieran edged even closer. Why didn’t he just jump over the seat and sit in Charlie’s lap? “But I have a feeling that Mason’s a little out of practice.”
“Which one of you is the better card player?”
“Me,” Mason said without hesitation. “And Kieran knows it too.”
He had the good sense not to deny it.
“Good.” Charlie reached into her bag and pulled out a deck of cards. “We’ve got an hour and a half until we land. Texas Hold ’em. Loser buys dinner.”
Chapter Eleven
“Looks like dinner’s on you.” Charlie wasn’t a world-class hustler but she knew a thing or two about poker. “I almost feel bad taking advantage of a clearly inebriated man for a free meal.”
He wasn’t that drunk, but Mason had certainly downed enough whiskey to loosen him up. With his walls down, he smiled more. His eyes burned with a bright fire when he looked at her, and she’d spent most of the flight with the forced air blowing down on her to keep her flushed cheeks from showing how he made her feel. He laughed. A deep, infectious rumble that peppered Charlie’s senses like warm summer rain. His posture relaxed and the permanent furrow that marred his brow smoothed.
Drunk Mason wasn’t so bad. Maybe she’d liquor him up more often.
The sense of ease that Charlie felt during the flight quickly evaporated the moment they arrived in L.A. Flying blind wasn’t exactly her thing, and Kieran seemed to enjoy the game he was playing. The stunt at the airport this morning only proved that he was prepared to make the road ahead as difficult as possible for Mason. Charlie couldn’t begin to fathom the history between the two of them, but she had no doubt it was turbulent.
Kieran flanked Charlie so that she walked between the two men. They were two sides of the same coin: good, bad, light, dark. Funny that Mason represented not only the goodness but the darkness, while Kieran was bad to the bone and lighthearted. She was fascinated by the juxtaposition and it worried her as well. It was dangerous to become too enmeshed with either one of them. Detachment was a necessity that Charlie wasn’t sure she could master. At least where Mason was concerned.
“Here’s our car.”
Kieran pointed out a sleek town car waiting in a row of others in the pickup area. Charlie changed course a beat before Mason and crashed into him. She reached out and steadied herself against his broad, muscled chest. It was no wonder he’d slipped the diamonds into her pocket without her knowing. A simple touch distracted her to the point that Charlie didn’t know which way was up.
She looked up to find Mason’s gaze trained on her. A pleasant wave of excitement rolled through her and Charlie let out the breath she’d been holding. “Did I distract you enough that I could have picked your pocket right now?”
Mason’s nostrils flared. He gripped her shoulders and leaned in close. “The way you look right now could distract a man from breathing.”
Oh wow. Heat gathered low in her belly and Charlie felt the need to swallow more than usual. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
Mason held her for a beat longer. Kieran cleared his throat to break the spell, and she wanted to turn around and kick him in the shin. Mason released his hold as the scowl banished the heat from his expression. He turned away and headed for the car, and Charlie could do nothing but stare appreciatively from behind.
Charlotte Cahill, assistant U.S. attorney, would never have been so brazen with a man like Mason, but Charlie Sinclair, diamond broker and law breaker, was braver. She took risks, flirted with dangerous men, and said what was on her mind. She could see how some agents became addicted to undercover work. Pretending to be someone you weren’t produced a definite rush.
Kieran made sure to sandwich Charlie in once they were all seated in the car. He could’ve taken the front seat, but instead pressed his body against hers as he leaned in intimately. “I know a couple of great real estate agents in the city. You should let me arrange to have them show you a few properties.”
He was the sort of man who loved to throw his weight around. Charlie had known guys like that her entire life. The last thing she wanted was to keep company with men who reminded her of her father. She got enough of his elitist attitude when they met up for drinks and dinner once a month.
“That might be a little premature,” she said. “I’m not exactly a high roller yet.”
Kieran glanced Mason’s way. “If the two of you come through for me today, I promise to make you a very rich woman.”
The words were a low growl close to her ear. If he’d been another man, Charlie might have been attracted. Flattered by the attention. But he wasn’t. It didn’t matter what Kieran said or did to justify his lifestyle. He stole. Cheated. Gamed the system she swore to uphold. He disregarded the law that she revered. Charlie took the bad guys down. Period. And Kieran was one of them.
“Promises, promises.” She gave Kieran’s shoulder a playful nudge. “I have no doubt that both Mason and I will come through for you today. You’ll have to hold up your end of the bargain now and send some of that money my way.”
“We’ll own the diamond market,” Kieran assured her.
Charlie forced the most sensual smile she could muster to her lips. “I hope so.”
Blech. Even pretending to want to make money off the exploitation of others made Charlie want to scrub herself down with bleach. She’d play Kieran’s game, though. Flirt, stroke his ego—as long as that’s the only thing she’d be stroking—to ensure it got her the win.
“Where are we headed?”
Mason had been fairly quiet up until now. He hadn’t had nearly as much to drink as Charlie initially feared he had. She’d done her best to keep his mind off his claustrophobia with round after round of Texas Hold ’em. Kieran sure as hell hadn’t done anything to help Mason. Instead, he’d belittled him. Would there ever be an end to their sibling rivalry?
“Still the consummate control freak,” Kieran remarked. “Worried?”
“Not even you go into a situation unprepared,” Mason said. “I don’t mind playing your games, but I think it’s only fair we know what to expect before we get there.”
“I agree.” Charlie angled her body away from Kieran and straightened. “I understand the need for discretion and that you want to vet us first. But throwing us into a situation totally unprepared isn’t just bad for us. It’s bad for you too.”
Kieran shifted so he faced Charlie. He braced his elbow on the seat back and idly teased a strand of her hair. “Don’t worry about my reputation,” he said in a low, sensual murmur. “It doesn’t tarnish.”
An anxious shiver raced down Charlie’s spine. His gaze warmed as he continued to play with her hair. She didn’t move. Didn’t dare to breathe. He was in charge and she had no choice but to go with the flow.
“Knock it off, Kieran,” Mason growled. “Everyone here knows their place. If you want to keep me in the dark, fine. But there’s no need to jerk Charlie around. She doesn’t owe you anything.”
Kieran raised a brow. “Oh no? Am I not about to set her up for life? I think a fucking thank-you might be in order.”
They sure as hell bickered like brothers.
“It is,” Charlie quickly agreed. She wasn’t about to let the two get into a fight at this point. “And I’m incredibly grateful.” She glanced Mason’s way. “We both are.”
Kieran’s demeanor didn’t soften. Instead, his lips thinned and his gaze cooled. He continued to fiddle with her hair as he focused his attention on some far-off point. “How did you meet Mason?” he asked. “I don’t remember if you told me the story or not.”
Fear skittered through Charlie’s veins. She and Mason had come up with a passable cover story, but she hadn’t had much time to rehearse it. “Mason arrested me.” Charlie swallowed through
the dryness in her throat. “Six months ago. I tried to fence seventy-five thousand in emeralds to two undercover agents. Mason was one of them.”
Kieran leaned in closer and put his mouth to her ear. “Why aren’t you in jail right now?”
Charlie shivered. “The evidence was misplaced.”
“Convenient.” His fingers threaded through her hair and Charlie forced herself not to cringe away from the contact. “What happened to the emeralds?”
“Mason gave them to his father,” she said on a breath. “At the prison last week when we met you there.”
“Are you the reason he flipped, Charlie?” Kieran pulled away to look at her. “Did he throw all of his convictions to the wayside for you?”
Kieran still had doubts. It was written all over his face. She heard it in the tenor of his words. Felt it in the tension that vibrated off him. She had no idea what he wanted to hear. What could she say that would put him at ease once and for all?
“It’s not like that,” she said. “Mason saw an opportunity for a lucrative partnership and he saved my ass. I owe him.”
Kieran abandoned her hair and brushed the pad of his thumb across her cheekbone. “I suppose you do.”
God, she hoped they made it out of this alive.
*
Mason’s control hung by a damned-near invisible thread. Healthy—if not a little antagonistic—competition had always been a part of his relationship with Kieran, but this was different. Charlie was different. He didn’t like the way Kieran looked at her. The way his voice went low when he talked to her. Charlie could hold her own, Mason had no doubt, but that didn’t make him any more comfortable with Kieran’s come-on.
With Charlie’s back to him he couldn’t see her expression. Had no idea if she was keeping it together or not. Kieran wanted Mason to watch their exchange. To see him touch her, to show her exactly who was in charge. And despite the fact that Mason knew their lives were safe with Kieran, the world he brought them into was anything but. Threats lurked around every corner. Whoever Kieran was taking them to meet could be a volatile sociopath. Mason didn’t want Charlie anywhere near that shit.
Having the responsibility of someone else’s safety thrust upon him frayed Mason’s nerves. He wanted to work alone for a reason, but he could have at least handled it better had he been saddled with another agent. Seasoned and capable. Charlie had a good head on her shoulders. She was cool steel under pressure. But she had no direct experience with the violent world she’d been suddenly immersed in.
He’d never forgive himself if something happened to her. But he’d sure as hell make someone pay if she got hurt.
“Charlie doesn’t owe me,” Mason said. Kieran pulled away, that goddamned smirk plastered on his smug face. “I saw an opportunity and I took it, plain and simple.”
“After years of walking the straight and narrow …” Kieran mused. “And she’s the one you jump the fence for.”
Kieran’s ego had never bothered Mason much. It came with the territory when you grew up with Jensen Decker as your teacher and father figure. When his dad was off running a con, smuggling gems into the country or fencing forged paintings all over Europe, Kieran had been the only family Mason had. Hell, despite their differences, he still was. He could forgive Kieran for a lot of things. Working his charm on Charlie wasn’t one of them.
“I told you,” Mason said. “I didn’t do anything because of her. Customs had been trying to get their hands on her for months. I needed someone with the necessary contacts to get me where I wanted to be.”
Kieran’s brows shot up into his hairline. “And where is that?”
“In that visitors’ room with you.”
Kieran scoffed. He flounced back in the seat. Mason let out a breath, grateful Kieran had put some distance between himself and Charlie. “You could have just picked up a fucking phone, you know.”
“Yeah.” Mason allowed a chuff of laughter. “Because I’ve got you on speed dial. Even if I had looked you up, would you have believed that I was through with CBP and law enforcement? Or would you have turned your back on me before I even got the chance to explain?”
“You know that wouldn’t have happened.”
Mason cocked a challenging brow.
“Oh, fuck off,” Kieran said with a wave of his hand. “I said I didn’t trust you, not that I didn’t want to have anything to do with you.”
A twinge of guilt pulled at Mason’s chest. He’d tried to put his past behind him. He’d cut all ties with his dad and distanced himself from Kieran. That association had been a shameful burden he’d carried for years. He couldn’t change the circumstances of his upbringing though. Or the people he’d been raised with. They were family. Kieran wanted to believe that Mason had come back to that family. And Carrera had ensured that by bringing Mason into this mess he’d tear that family apart once and for all. Again Mason wondered, was his endgame worth what he’d lose in the process?
“After tonight,” Mason said, “maybe we can put that doubt to bed, too.”
“That’s the plan.” Kieran’s eyes sparked with mischief. “Time to prove your mettle, brother.”
Brother.
Each time Kieran said the word, Mason felt his past—and the burden of guilt for his actions—creep up on him. There was no way he’d come out the other side of this unscathed. He only hoped that he could keep the damage to a minimum.
Mason took in his surroundings as best he could in the encroaching twilight. The car negotiated the crowded streets of the strip, past affluent storefronts and popular nightclubs that hadn’t even begun to heat up for the night. Mason knew better than anyone that just because they’d be in the company of money tonight didn’t mean they’d be with upstanding, law-abiding citizens. Looks could be deceiving. Just because someone owned a million-plus-dollar house and drove a Bentley, it didn’t mean they walked the line. Most criminals were wolves in sheeps’ clothing. They blended in, pretended to be something they weren’t. Only the people they did business with saw their true colors. This wasn’t going to be a cakewalk by any stretch of the imagination. Mason could hold his own. He’d grown up in this dog-eat-dog world. It was his worry for Charlie that stretched his muscles taut and caused the acid to churn in his gut.
He had to believe that she could handle this for both of them. Otherwise, he’d put an end to it before it even really began.
They drove for several more blocks before the car pulled up to a trendy, high-end strip club. The sign read FIORE, and from the line of people waiting to get inside, Mason figured it must be one of L.A.’s hottest venues. No doubt the owner was as crooked as a rail fence, too.
“Ready?” Kieran’s grin stretched ear to ear. Mason gave him a look and he shrugged his shoulders. “What? You’re here for business. I’m here for pleasure.”
Mason had yet to make eye contact with Charlie. The interior of the car had grown steadily darker as twilight gave way to night. He’d do his damnedest to make sure this transaction was quick and painless. In and out. The faster they could get the hell out of L.A., the better.
“I’m not going in until I get a little background,” Mason said. “Who’s the buyer, for starters.”
“Katarina Evgeny,” Kieran replied.
Stellar. The crown princess of the Russian mafia. Kieran might as well have asked them to walk over burning coals first. The daughter of Sergei Evgeny was rumored to be demanding, spoiled, and ten times more ruthless than her father. She was in line to inherit his entire North American operation and had already made a name for herself with her own business ventures. Some legitimate, others so far south of the law, they might as well be in hell.
Talk about running the gauntlet.
For the first time since they’d gotten in the car, Charlie faced him head-on. Her brow furrowed with curiosity, and even in the low light, Mason could make out the worry in her bright blue eyes. He gave her a reassuring smile, though he felt anything but reassured himself.
“She’s got enoug
h money to buy out every jewelry store on Rodeo Drive,” Mason remarked. “Why in the hell would she want these stones?”
“The stones have an interesting flaw that makes them incredibly rare,” Kieran said. “Plus, they have sentimental value.”
That sounded sketchy as hell. “What sort of sentimental value?”
“She tried to trade a few crates of Dragunovs for the stones a few months ago. She wants a chunk of the change that the arms dealers are hauling in. The African market is booming. Abidemi Bello, the warlord she offered up the sniper rifles to, told her that he wouldn’t do business with a woman and that if she showed her face in his camp again, he’d give her to his men and have her clit cut off.”
Mason’s brows shot up into his hairline. It was a wonder the warlord had lived long enough to issue the insult. “And she didn’t have his balls right then and there?”
“She put a contract out on him,” Kieran replied.
Mason knew killing wasn’t Kieran’s thing. He avoided violence unless it was necessary. “How in the hell did you get your hands on the diamonds?”
Kieran answered with an enigmatic grin.
“This isn’t a fence,” Mason said slowly. “We’re delivering proof of death and collecting an assassin’s fee.”
“Not quite,” Kieran said. “I didn’t kill anyone. I just managed to get my hands on the stones after Bello was already dead. The diamonds are ransom. Sort of. She offered up two million. I contacted her, told her my associate had the stones but wanted ten million.”
Motherfucker. Kieran had done a damned good job of stirring up a hornet’s nest. Mason and Charlie would be lucky to walk out of here with all of their fingers still attached if not wrapped in plastic. Flawless, the stones were only worth a half million. Because of their flaws, they’d be worth even less. For whatever reason, Katarina had offered up a fortune for practically worthless diamonds, and Kieran was demanding more money still.
“This isn’t a test,” Mason said. “You’re pulling the goddamned trigger on us.”
Charlie remained deathly silent. The almost indiscernible rise and fall of her chest was the only indicator that she was about to lose it.