Kiss the Killer [From the CIA 2](BookStrand Publishing Romance)

by Dawn Kunda

  Chapter 4

  The sensations running through Alina’s body, tingling, snapping, and acting like this hunk of a man all over her was the best thing life would ever treat her with, filled her with extreme excitement, which needed a release soon. The animalistic, yet gentle and considerate motions he poured on and over her body became a warning she defied herself to ignore. This is the very type of man who’d never have a chance to make her happy for a whole lifetime. The fear of letting it happen for more than an hour passed quickly.

  For one thing, he’d most likely consider her an easy time. She didn’t detect anything more than a physical need from him, which is precisely what she wanted. Yet, for her conscience, she pushed aside her recent revelation that she considered him gentle and considerate.

  Her eyes watched him as she swung around on the bed and reached to pull him onto herself. He looked at her and she knew her thoughts could be read in her eyes. She immediately hardened her stare. Grabbing his arm, she urged him to satisfy her and finish the game they’d started.

  A hesitation wavered in his look. She raised her leg and rubbed the outside of his hip, hooking her foot around his butt and pressuring his body toward her. His hardened manhood brushed her thigh, and their matching sensitivities were forgotten as he widened her legs with his hips and pushed his throbbing partner into the hot, tight passage waiting for it.

  She swore she could feel a volcano erupt inside as he shoved into her, strong and hard, holding his position as his mouth clenched tightly before letting out a raspy breath of air. Her body tightened around his, and she tossed her head in utter ecstasy.

  He fell on top of her, easing the force with his forearms at her side. His head cradled between her breasts, she felt small kisses slide up the inside until he sucked deeply on her nipple. Her legs automatically wrapped around his waist and held him inside her while her orgasm continued in lessening throbs. She squeezed tight for a last ounce of satisfaction, then hooked her feet together while her body wilted.

  “I’m probably crushing you.” Vic broke the silence and pushed off her, landing at her side.

  “No, you feel good.” Not quite a victory statement. Her mind, rattled with the orgasm, didn’t worry about how it sounded.

  As their breathing calmed, Alina jumped from the bed and shut herself in the bathroom. She gazed at the mirror, not sure what to expect. Her hair was mussed as if she’d been in a windstorm along with her flushed cheeks. Her lips and private parts of her body felt sweetly ravaged and a little swollen.

  Well worth it, but he had to go.

  * * * *

  All he’d wanted was a good meal. Hadn’t expected to end up in bed with a woman he’d never have guessed could nearly outlast him. He rolled off the bed and looked around her room as he stood. The useful décor of a bed, nightstand, dresser, and curtains shading the windows gave him no idea of her personality or life. Kind of unusual for a woman not to have pictures or knickknacks adorning table space.

  He heard water running from the bathroom and decided to snoop. It came naturally with his job, or should he say “former job?” He wasn’t afraid his former US boss, Kreis, had sent her after him. He’d stay clear of anything resembling a tail from Kreis and he’d take Kreis and his men down after he found all his own agents sent to foreign countries to unknowingly help the bastard. Kreis would go down under Vic’s timing.

  Whenever anything initiated thoughts of his mission, unsanctioned, his mind ran through its list of the CIA agents he needed to recover. As he recovered them, his team would strengthen. Then, and only then would he go after Kreis and expose him to the United States as the traitor he’s proven to be.

  Vic had wandered upon Gerty in a random pub search, so he had no doubt she was simply the beautiful and sexy woman he’d spent the last hour and a half with in her bed and nothing more. Yet, his mind didn’t work that simply, and he knew he’d have to have some solid evidence of her nature before he left.

  He took a chance and tread lightly back to the living area where she’d dumped her purse. Not seeing any paperwork on the tables or kitchen counters, he decided a woman’s purse could tell him anything he wanted to know. He felt like a thief as he lifted her bag from the chair, but it would better enable him and her to feel safe and he wasn’t going to take anything.

  He repeatedly glanced toward the hallway as he rifled through her purse, all the time re-convincing himself that it was a matter of safety that he do this. Surprised at the lack of miscellaneous women’s junk in her purse, he quickly located a passport. He hadn’t considered her as a traveler. Also, with a passport in her purse, he figured she must have flown recently.

  He opened the document just as the water pipes clunked in the wall behind the sofa, the wall that closed the bathroom from the living area. A paper, probably a grocery list or something similar, fluttered to the floor. He snagged it, kept it in his curled hand, shoved the passport back in her purse, and scooted back to the bedroom. A look at the passport itself would’ve been better, but he knew a scrap of information could take him far.

  Alina returned to find him squatted by his clothes. He pulled his hand from the pocket of his jeans where he’d stuffed the paper. He’d look at it later, not worried about it revealing any insipid information. He wanted her full name to look up in the database where he’d likely be notified about a harmless woman. If her name wasn’t on the paper, he’d look up the house address.

  “Are you leaving?”

  Not sure whether she intended her question as a hint, he watched her eyes glance to his clothing. “Looks like I overstayed my welcome.”

  In reply, she cinched the towel wrapped around her curvy body. Her tangled hair touched her shoulders. A blush stained her naked skin as if she’d scrubbed him off her.

  “I should go.” Careful not to knock his gun from inside his jacket, he slipped on the rest of clothes.

  “Thank you.”

  “For…”

  She sat on the bed and hugged the corners of the towel at her chest. Her eyes answered with a somewhat pleading look, quickly replaced with vacancy. The minute clues she threw his way about her life didn’t add up to a happy person. He’d definitely check her out because she was hiding something or hiding from someone. The signs flashed red, and he began to agree on an early departure. “You’re welcome…for whatever I did for you.” He looked to the hall, then back. “I’ll let myself out, and don’t worry. I won’t stalk you at your hangout.” He gave a halfhearted smile, receiving one in return.

  * * * *

  Alina remained huddled at the edge of her bed, and a few drops of water grown icy slid down her bare arm. His footsteps retreated, the side door opened and closed softly, and the house became as silent as after the last bullet fires.

  The sudden silence bothered her more than her promiscuity, but in a different manner. To cave and allow herself an evening of selfish sex against her orders to be careful of who sees her face early in the victim witness program, had small shots of adrenaline course internally as a reminder of her possible mistake.

  Hopefully Vic thought of her as a player and he wouldn’t be back for more. He hadn’t shown any signs of terrorist interest in her, but rather male lust and ego. Terrorism had a familiar aura she assured herself would be detectable if it confronted her. Too bad a few stray neurons insisted on thrusting the idea forward that one more night with him might be a deserved pleasure, or at least another selfish act of necessity.

  I should take up dog sledding, skiing, or snowshoeing instead of one night escapades. They’d provide little socialization, but at least release my energy and take up the long hours of the day. She pulled back the covers. Dropping the towel to the floor, she crawled into bed. I used to think there weren’t enough hours in a day. Now there’s too many.

  But the silence, the empty feeling around her, reaffirmed her fears of a singular and lonely existence. Not that she needed a host of friends and family, but a small social allowance would save her sanity. She’d pro
ve she could work for Chemical Alliance again, maybe travel less, but definitely experience the magic of compounds, atoms, and barely microscopic substances change and purposefully mutate under the lens for her once more. After this accomplishment, she’d be in position to relieve her look-alike cousin. Or should she call it revenge with a dose of retribution against the terrorists who held Christa?

  She hoped Christa was still alive.

  Chapter 5

  Vic pulled his papers from their current hiding place, under the cutting board. He’d slept a sound four hours. His churning mind didn’t allow for much more. Normally, given enough free time, he’d have slept close to double that after the night’s physical quality with Gerty, but something about her left him with a question about her identity.

  Standing in his T-shirt and briefs, he searched and found a leftover sandwich in the small fridge, his mind whirled. Turning back to his papers, he made another adjustment in thoughts and decided to retrieve his pants with the paper stuffed in the pocket.

  Unfolding the half sheet, he spread it on the table and bent over to read the information. Slowly he sank into the chair at the table as the force of the few typed lines hit him.

  “Alina Runesson.” He read her name out loud. “Three months ago she traveled to and from Iraq. Five foot four, hazel eyes, brown hair, and thirty-four years old.” He continued to read the information that told him this was the woman he’d spent half the night with. Her activity was a chemical analyst and she had a special passport and papers to allow her into Iraq’s second biggest nuclear facility.

  “Holy shit! What was she doing working for the Iraqi government? Is she on their side?” He glanced around his apartment as if someone might be listening.

  He read the rest of the typed information telling him she’s a Swedish resident and worked for Chemical Alliance.

  He rubbed his brow as he attempted to figure out why she’d lied to him about her name, why she hid in a corner at the pub alone, and whom she feared might see her. If Kreis had sent Alina to ferret him out, Vic still didn’t understand what role she played since he’d literally located her. He’d gone to her home, not the other way around. He couldn’t believe she’d been hired to locate him, yet he had to keep his guard up and find out her purpose.

  He noticed the forgotten sandwich and took a bite. Today he’d planned to try to contact a select agent he’d chosen to retrieve from his death sentence planned by Kreis. He might have to alter who would’ve been his first choice. He did know he had contacts in Iraq. First, he’d have to figure out if the night with Alina Runesson would prove a reason to head for Iraq for his next mission.

  For now, he’d find a room elsewhere and set up a stakeout on his own apartment. He knew better than to leave any unusual information to its own accord without investigation. He’d stay away from Alina and make sure no eyes focused on his back.

  When he determined Kreis and his boys hadn’t found himself, he’d interrogate Alina and get the truth from her. After he’d left her house, his thoughts had centered more on how he could get in her pants again without any promises. He’d have to scratch that idea.

  * * * *

  Alina stroked the brush across Gerty’s back. She noticed Gerty’s wool stayed softer when brushed regularly. Laying her face against Gerty’s neck, she admitted the warmth gave her strength, strength to keep on and endure her new existence while approaching the right time to return to Iraq.

  Gerty swung her muzzle and nibbled on Alina’s hair. She crunched her shoulders at the ticklish lips touching her neck. Alina had wondered what Vic had been doing the last couple days since the explosive sex awakened another need that had been well buried before her life transformed to nearly a fugitive in her own country.

  The closest she’d come to a mutual interest in a relationship had been with Jon Sauhran, a colleague. He had been handsome, kind, intelligent, and would die for you. Literally. Any good man would never remain alive to experience a happy lifelong relationship with her, and she’d proven it.

  Which reminded her, she needed to make a call to Dr. Korbic before the doc turned her in for violation of the victim witness rules. Alina had a few hours of respite from her Iraq nightmare with Vic, didn’t think about it much, well not at all during climax, so she’d learned of a temporary escape from the trauma. She didn’t want to leave all the Iraqi memories behind because a huge portion of incentive came from remembering.

  She eyed her watch while patting Gerty’s coat and put away the brush before heading back to the house.

  Tossing her jacket on the kitchen chair, she breathed deeply, put on her “I’m fine” face, and picked up the phone. The conversation went well. Alina kept up her personal bargain of pretending the Iraqi shooting was in the past.

  Dr. Korbic raised the expected questions. “Did you find your passport? Remember, you had worried about the Iraqi government finding it and having your photo, address, and new name?”

  “I forgot about that.” Alina rummaged through her purse as she spoke. She knew a photo and address of her former life could easily show up on a computer screen for a government, but she didn’t want Iraq using her passport to send a terrorist to locate her new residence. If she always had it with her, they couldn’t get it. She didn’t forget about the note in the side panel of her purse. She continued talking as she dumped the contents on the table. “Actually, I think I never took it from my purse.”

  Her wallet, keys, and the few other items rolled across the table, then the passport fell on top of the heavier items. “Here it is.” Right where she knew it would be found.

  “Another positive day for you.” Dr. Korbic had no idea.

  Alina flipped the cover open. She frowned, noting that the access paperwork to the Iraqi government chemical plant was missing. “As I’ve been saying, I’m doing well, and I’m looking forward to going back to work.”

  “You do sound adjusted to the changes, I’m happy to say.” Alina could hear papers sliding together on the other end of the line. “I would like to see you in person next week, though.”

  “I—”

  “I will agree to some phone calls in place of an appointment, but I wouldn’t be doing my job without talking to you face-to-face.” Apparently Dr. Korbic had rethought their last agreement.

  Alina knew Dr. Korbic was right. Alina realized she could only manipulate the doctor so far. “I’ll make an appointment.”

  After the conversation ended, Alina turned her purse inside out and searched her wallet. The paperwork definitely had vanished. She had randomly checked and reread the slip of paper as part of her own counseling. Rethinking what she’d done since the last time the document had been read, she came up with being at her house, one trip to the market, a dinner out and she hadn’t opened her purse because Vic paid for it, Vic spending a few hours in her house and she hadn’t fallen asleep at any time, more days at home, and nothing else that registered.

  She bent down and crawled around her floor, hoping it had slipped away when she wasn’t looking. The kitchen table had been designated as the only spot to read the document. She’d furnished the house with scant items necessary to feel as if she really lived here and wasn’t visiting, so to check between appliances and furniture didn’t take long.

  Giving up, she sat back on her heels. She gripped her thighs, willing an answer to pop out. Now would be the perfect occasion to have a confidant, a best friend, or someone to ask what she should do next.

  If I tell Dr. Korbic my document is missing, I’ll never lead a normal life again. I’ll be guarded from the worst of humankind for the rest of my life. How long she’d live with the information in the wrong hands didn’t amount to a problem for a mathematician. Life would be short.

  Chapter 6

  Getting used to living in another country hadn’t been incredibly difficult. Vic had grown accustomed to traveling many parts of the world in his eighteen years with the CIA, but he felt nostalgic opening the door to his apartment after three days of sur
veillance and three nights of a lumpy bed and poorly equipped bathroom at a rundown motel.

  Not a single suspicious vehicle or person came near his residence, yet he planned to move on. If Kreis had sent someone to find him, Kreis would know how to hide his men. Typically, Vic would choose to relocate to another town, but for some reason he couldn’t put a finger on, he decided to stay close by. He might’ve been practicing reverse psychology with this decision, or the feel of a Swedish woman might have swayed him a bit. Damned if he’d admit the latter concept.

  He did need to check out who she really was and staying close would make a minor investigation easier.

  He needed to act on that immediately.

  Three hours later, he had little to pack, he moved to another apartment on the opposite side of Gamla. During his move, his mind wouldn’t let go of a plan for his next step and it kept fatigue from settling in.

  A detailed search on his computer revealed a lot about his fling with Alina, or at least about the intriguing woman. She excels in her work as a chemical analyst. She travels frequently, lately to Middle Eastern countries, but the travels stopped about three months ago. Her parents live in Vadstena, southwest of Stockholm. Two sisters, four cousins, and random other relatives live within an hour of her parents. She has a library card in Stockholm, Uppsala, and at the University in Gamla. One of her two credit cards has a low balance.

  He wanted to find out more personal information, but he always limited his searches to under an hour. Unlikely these searches would be detected coming from him, he still switched computers and borrowed codes from other CIA agents when he dug for exclusive information. Naturally, the agents knew nothing about Vic having their codes. They’d be changed soon under regular rules, and then he’d have to conjure up another way to get under the privacy line. He wouldn’t worry about that today.