She rolled the ring on her finger. “Right, then. Simple. Just to keep the cover complete.”
He ran his tongue around his teeth. “Something like that.” Ian reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold band with the same design inlaid within the smooth band. He handed it to her and smiled. “Do me the honor, dear?”
She rolled her eyes and grabbed the ring off his palm, noticing it was still warm from his body heat. “How long have you carried these around in your pocket?” She pushed the ring onto his long finger. His palm was warm where she held it. The band slid past his first knuckle. She ran her finger over the metal.
“This I’ll defend,” he muttered.
She looked at him. “What?”
Ian shook his head, his voice low. “You’re wearing my ring.”
She cocked her brow and leaned back, even as he moved in. “So?”
His hands ran from her hands, up her arms, over her shoulders, to her neck. “We’re in Scotland,” he said, his voice low, his lashes sweeping down to hide his eyes. “And you’re claiming to be my wife. Do you know what that means?”
“Yeah, it’s not forever,” she said, her gaze locked on his lips.
Ian’s thumbs gently stroked her jaw, back and forth, back and forth, his fingers playing at the nape of her neck. Tension swirled in her gut, made her breasts heavy and tickled down her backbone. She looked back up into his eyes, and her breath halted at the seriousness swirling in them. He leaned in closer and then closer.
Instead of replying to her comment, he whispered against her lips, “Have I told you how sexy I think you are?”
Her eyes closed, she just shook her head.
“You are,” he muttered between nibbles on her lips. “Sexy and confident and that’s a turn-on, babe.”
He ran one hand over her short-cropped hair.
She kissed him back. “I hear husbands are supposed to tell their wives these things.”
“Are they?” The other hand moved from her neck to her collarbone down to cup her breast. She pulled back out of the kiss to tell him . . .
His thumb stroked over the center of her breast.
To tell him . . .
He gently squeezed.
Her breath huffed out.
“I’ve thought about doing this since I saw you at Nero’s wearing that lavender sweater that showed off your shoulder.” He kissed her neck, his tongue trailing a path from her collarbone to her jaw to her earlobe.
She shivered.
“Oh, yeah, I’ve thought of doing this . . .” He kissed her mouth again, their bodies pressing against each other, then he whispered against her lips, “This and a hell of a lot more.”
Chapter 12
Switzerland
November 8
Elianya looked out at the falling snow.
Damn it.
All her hard work had screeched to a halt.
There was still the shipment moving from the Caribbean, and tomorrow she’d be on a plane to Paris, then on to Miami. Hot sultry weather in November . . . Ah.
And once she was in the States, she’d simply contact the person who owed her. Then she’d learn Dimitri’s real name. As of yet, there was no trace of him. But he wouldn’t leave a trace, would he?
If she learned his real name, she’d know how to get to him.
If there was anyone she could use against him, she would. Nothing like loved ones to draw an enemy out.
Elianya smiled. He was one man she hated, almost as much as Jacob several years earlier. And she’d taken care of that man and his little family. Though she suspected his name had been something else, she’d never learned what it was.
She hadn’t asked and hadn’t cared. All she cared about was that the man she’d hired had done his job. He had followed one Jacob Angelovsky and then had gotten rid of him. Explosions were wonderful things. Not her personal favorite, but they always made such a statement. Personally, she’d have rather Jacob suffered a bit more, but done was done. As soon as the man had called her, she’d called her second contracted killer to take out the first. Neither man had a clue who she was, or who their mark was. They knew facts. They were hired to do a job and they completed it successfully.
A little bomb on the ignition and boom! Problem solved.
The man had had a family! A family, she had learned later! How could he do with her what he’d done and still have a family? He’d deserved to die. Of course, he’d deserved to die before that for rejecting her. To learn he’d had a family only served to put the icing on the cake.
No man made her the other woman. She was any man’s only woman.
Now Dimitri—or whoever the hell he was. She had men looking for him.
So who was working with him? Who had the other man been that the Russian guard had spoken of? Your brother’s man and someone else . . .
Who had the someone else been?
She ran a hand over her coiffed hair and checked the clock. It was almost time for her massage and last spa treatment. Who knew when she’d get back to Europe. New York had some good spas, but not like those here.
She was a European snob and she knew it. The Americans were capitalists and she would use that. Other than their use to her she had no need of them.
But she knew she could make a beautiful profit in the U.S. with her girls and she damn well would. Before long, she’d be someone the other bosses came to.
As she pulled on the thick white robe and grabbed her room key, she decided she needed to hire at least two more bodyguards. Her driver was loyal, but after her brother . . .
At least everyone would know she meant business.
Business was always important. A sharp head in business led to power. And power . . .
Well, there was nothing like power, was there?
She checked the mirror on her way out and decided she’d hire three bodyguards. Two men and a woman.
She liked diversity, after all.
*****
November 13, 11:00 a.m.
Ian put the car in drive, ignoring the way Roth glared at him. He merged with the rest of the traffic from Dulles.
John, Tanner, and Snake were following in another vehicle. He could only shake his head at the black SUV following them. Leave it to one of the guys to rent the vehicles, and it looked like a damn fed convention coming to town.
“I wasn’t in charge of the rentals,” Roth said, straightening in his passenger seat. Roth, tall, short dark hair, a beard and built like a linebacker, was already helping in the area of protective services that KB Securities provided.
Ian shrugged. “It’s fine.”
“Jones probably would have arranged it anyway.”
“True, along with several other details.”
Roth only grunted. Roth was also a retired Ranger who went to work with the same agency that had recruited Ian. He was originally from the Midwest somewhere, not that Ian cared. Roth was good at what he did and that was all that mattered. People paid for protection, and for the price they paid, they got it.
“Exactly where are we going?” Rori asked from the backseat. From the set of her pale green eyes and the furrow between those perfectly arched brows, he could tell she was still pissed.
Not that she had to come along, but he was glad she had. All for the girl.
His gaze shifted to the little girl in the rearview mirror. Dressed in a blue sweater and jeans, little half boots on her feet, the black bear clutched in her lap, she appeared the normal little girl.
Except for those eyes.
He took another deep breath and paid attention to the road and the other drivers around him.
“I should be driving,” Roth said. Again.
Ian only glanced at him, pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and shaking out one. He needed one. Long damn flight, and here he was in D.C.
“You pulled me off the detail in Boston for this. And what am I doing? Riding. The guard drives. The targets never—”
“I don’t need a rundown on bo
dyguard and target marking procedures.” He pressed the car lighter to the end of the cigarette and took a deep drag, shoving the lighter back into the slot and cracking the window.
“That will kill you,” Roth muttered.
Ian ignored him.
“Well, I agree with him,” Rori said from the backseat.
“I didn’t ask you.”
“No bloody kidding.” Her eyes shot ice at him. “One more week. You should be able to find out in that amount of time if anyone is looking for her, if your family is safe and if you have to help with anything else. After that, Mr. I-don’t-jolly-ask, you’re on your own.”
He wanted to smile at her. He didn’t. He took another deep drag.
His eyes stayed on hers for another moment, and in that second he could all but taste what it felt like to kiss the woman senseless.
A week.
He sighed. He didn’t know what the hell to do on that front. She was agreeing to pose as his wife.
Though he only planned to be here a couple of days and then they were getting out of this area. He didn’t want anyone to link him to his family. But he hadn’t lied to Rori before. There was simply no way he could not check on them, and if—God forbid—he ran into them, they had their story straight. Of course, if that happened, then he’d have to explain later how they divorced. Lie here, lie there. Lies were a pain in the ass.
He was out of this damn job as soon as this was finished. He finished off the cigarette and tossed the butt into the ashtray.
No fucking more.
He hated the fact he had to be here so close to his family to begin with, but he had to check on them himself. Pete had told him they were fine, but they weren’t Pete’s family.
If anything, he needed to warn them. He’d already hired his own men to oversee their protection, and to explain that he’d have to at least meet with Aiden. Some things he could probably get away with, but hiring several bodyguards for his family was not going to be one of the times he could merely shadow their lives unseen.
The plan was to arrive at the hotel, check it out, meet with Aiden and discreetly make certain the rest of the family was all right. Two days tops. With Aiden’s help, they could create a story, or more accurately, he could create a story Aiden would likely go along with.
Maybe there had been a threat against the hotel . . .
Or maybe there was a threat against Jock and Mom. That would work. And so that they wouldn’t worry, everyone else would go along with it. With the wealth that the Kinncaids had, they could be targets for any idiot wanting a buck. He’d probably go with that angle.
For any that needed to know, Rori was his wife and Darya was their daughter. More than likely he wouldn’t even see anyone other than Aiden.
“You think they’ll actually go for it?” Roth asked.
“For?”
Roth shook his head. “You haven’t changed since the last time I worked a detail directly for you.”
Ian didn’t answer him.
“And here I thought I was the only one who was the recipient of his gracious communication skills,” Rori said from the backseat. “He gives just enough information to get you to go along with crap, then has the annoying habit of telling you to be ready to go within the hour.”
Ian shook his head, taking the exit he needed. “You were ready in ten minutes. You’re just pissed because you didn’t get to sleep late.”
He noticed how late she slept every day. How the hell she did it, he had no idea.
“Two words, boyo.”
He grinned. There were three cars following them down the ramp; one had started to follow them two miles from the airport. The blue Taurus.
“Roth, have someone tailing us?” he asked.
Roth didn’t even move. “The blue car?” A smile lifted one edge of his mouth. “Probably. Been with us for ten minutes. Can’t be sure, think it’s G-tags.”
Ian kept driving, weaving in and out of traffic, the black SUV behind keeping with them.
The blue car finally turned off two blocks from the hotel. He took a deep breath. Two days. He could handle two days.
He never knew if he liked being here or not. Normally, it was fine. But now he had that humming itch under his skin.
“Ready to get to a room?” he asked Darya in Russian.
As usual she didn’t speak. She only looked at him, but the corners of her eyes softened.
Slow progress. He wanted to know more about her. What the hell did he actually do with the girl if there was no one for her?
One of his brothers? They were all married and had families. Aiden or Brayden would probably take her in. Then again, with Ryan’s history of abuse, Gavin and Taylor might understand how to better handle her.
Rori leaned up in the backseat. “You and I are going to have one long chat when I get you alone.”
Roth grinned.
“You promise?” Ian asked her.
She glared at him. “Why the hotel?” she asked him.
He sighed and pulled into the line that was driving up under the portico of the hotel. “Because I can check on what I need to without being readily seen. And I like my family’s hotels.”
“Why aren’t you seeing your family? Why in the hell did I have to learn all their names and occupations if we’re not going to see them?”
Another point of her aggravation, it seemed. “To avoid complications, which you know.”
One perfect brow arched at him. The car slowly moved up. He turned in the seat to look at her.
“I don’t want to draw attention to my family.”
“In regards to you, yes. I remember saying the same damn thing.” Her eyes narrowed. “Then why the bloody hell did you come here? And as Ian Kinncaid?”
He stared at her for a moment. Saw the confusion on her face. “As far as Ian Kinncaid? I used it because as far as anyone running a check is concerned, Mr. Ian Kinncaid is a businessman who has played the markets and recently opened a growing security firm. He resides in Scotland and is a rather quiet soul. I know all my other covers were blown. But only one man, well, a few more I trust, know that I am . . . well . . . me. Ian Kinncaid. Technically, for you and Darya, it’s the safest identity I can use. Because that is the one name they may actually not have.” He checked the mirrors. “As for the other part of your question, as to why I had to come, do you have any family?”
Something shifted in her eyes. “Why?”
So distrustful. A feeling he was rather familiar with. “You’d understand if you did.”
She shrugged. “I suppose there is someone I’d risk it all to see safe.”
Really? He’d love to know who that was. Instead he grinned and said, “Why, thank you, wife. Nice to know you love me that much.”
Her look could have frozen hell.
“Won’t someone recognize you?” she asked, her voice irritable as they waited on the line of cars.
“Maybe.”
“Well, you’re traveling as Ian Kinncaid, don’t you think someone will alert someone in your family that you’re here? None of this makes any sense.”
“Probably, then again, the staff is known for its discretion.”
“Of course they are.” She shifted, her clothing hushing over the leather seats. “Until someone offers them enough money.”
He ignored her. She was right . . . probably. Except for those that had been there so long they knew what to do and what not to do. Loyalty was of top priority. This allowed him to be close enough to check on his family without lots of undo travel between places that wasted time. He’d stayed here before, and it was time he came out as himself.
“What I don’t understand,” she said from the backseat, “is why you’d use your own name.”
He drove up behind another car, only one more left before they could get out. He scanned the crowd, the cars, the motorcycle over to the right.
“Rori, I’ve been over this. Seeing as how I didn’t know which aliases were blown, I figured why the hell not,” he
lied.
“Of course,” she said.
Truth was, he wanted to use his real name. For Ian Kinncaid the businessman to be seen as Ian Kinncaid, the businessman with a group of his own security men, would only validate who he claimed to be. Of course, there was the issue of why they were with him. Which he would explain if the need arose.
“What if your family is here?” Roth asked.
Hell. “Then I’ll deal with it. They probably won’t recognize me anyway. It’s been years since I’ve been home.”
“Looking like that? And as Ian Kinncaid? Yeah,” Roth said. “They’d never know who Douglas McGregor was or Marque. But well, you look . . . like you.”
He only shot Roth a look and pulled the black car up to the curb, noting the young faces of the valets. Two, blond-headed.
“I want the names of all the valets and garage attendants,” he said, getting out.
The blue-coated valet ran around the edge of the hood. “Welcome to the Highland Hotel.”
Ian ignored him and waited for Rori and Darya as Roth scanned the traffic and waited for them.
To the valet he said, “Don’t move the vehicle until I let you know.”
“But it’s against . . .”
Ian only looked at him.
His Adam’s apple bobbed. Kid could only be maybe twenty. “Y-ye-yes, sir.”
Ian picked Darya up, smelling her fruity shampoo when her hair tickled his jaw as she laid her head on his shoulder. He scanned the crowd, and held his hand out to Rori.
*****
Jock Kinncaid looked across the conference table to his sons. Aiden and Quinlan were silent, but then they always were.
Gavin paced. Brayden lounged back in his chair tapping on one of those hand gadget things everyone seemed to have these days.
A phone rang and Quinlan pulled it from his breast pocket.
“Dad, we’ve acquired the castle, there’s nothing left to say about it,” Aiden said calmly.
“We don’t need another location in Europe.”
His oldest son didn’t say a thing to him. Damn kids. He was retired, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a blasted opinion on things.
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