by Misty Evans
Night had descended and they were skirting a storm. Through the window, an occasional flash of lightning lit the clouds, but mostly all he could see was his face reflected back at him. His beard was thick, his hair long, and his skin deeply tanned. He didn't even look like himself anymore. “What’s my excuse for disappearing for nine months after the explosion?” Time to shed the Aussie accent and reclaim his French one. “How do I explain my resurrection?”
“You went off radar is all. You’ve been on your honeymoon with Mia.” Parker smiled. “Traveling the world. After the explosion, you skipped town, figuring Karl wasn’t up for doing business for a while. You met Mia, fell in love, and now the two of you have a new business. You have plenty of clients, but need help getting certain governments—the US in particular—off your backs and expanding your funding sources. Ground floor opportunity for Karl. We have provided Mia with an extensive backstop identity, that is now intermingled with Gaspard’s.”
“Why is he in Monte Carlo?”
The Go Fish game was over and Jaeger ran down the aisle to jump in Ryker’s lap. “I won,” he announced, beaming with pride.
“Good job, taking it to a couple of tough guys.” Ryker tousled the boy’s blond hair, discreetly checking to see if his forehead was still cool. All trace of the fever was gone, but it would help for him to catch up on his sleep. “Are you hungry? I'm sure there's good food on this plane, and after a snack, you should probably take a nap.”
“Food, yes!” The boy gave him a thumbs-up and then slowly turned the thumb so it pointed down. “Nap, no way.”
The SEAL called Slash walked over. “How about PB&J? I can probably find some milk too,” he said to Jaeger.
The boy hopped off Ryker’s lap. “Do you have any Vegemite? That's my favorite with peanut butter.”
As Slash took Jaeger’s hand and led him to the galley in the rear, Parker pulled out a sheet of paper from a file under her tablet and handed it to him. It was filled with various pictures of Kaiser coming and going from The Trillium. “He moved his base of operations there after the explosion. He’s always dabbled in money-laundering, using his casinos in all the hotspots to clean profits from his illegal activities. It appears after losing Petra and Jaeger, he decided to live like a bachelor again. Monte Carlo is home base now, and he enjoys the playboy lifestyle from the penthouse suite.”
Ryker rolled his eyes. “He always enjoyed a playboy lifestyle, regardless of his marriage.”
A beep sounded from her tablet and she frowned as she read an incoming message. “Rory wasn't able to track the drone to its source, but he’s doing a sweep of the areas within a thousand meters of the cabin to find where it originated. So far, the most likely is a small village near Cape Tribulation. He's working on some leads surrounding a stolen boat, and a report of three ex-military strangers hiring a local guide to take them into the forest late yesterday. No one has seen any of them since.”
“Kaiser has his own private army,” Ryker said. “Mostly soldiers of fortune. If he sent them, the local guide will turn up dead, no doubt, if his body is found, and those men are long gone.”
Parker raised a finger. “Looks like they checked out the bomb site before evacuating.” She turned the tablet so Ryker could see.
He grabbed the device to examine it more closely. Mia strained forward, and frustrated by her limited view, switched seats so she was next to him. She leaned slightly into him, staring at an aerial photo taken of three commandos casing what was left of his cabin. Her light floral scent engulfed him, her arm brushing against his, sending all of his senses into Code Red.
How long had it been since a woman touched him? Since he’d inhaled perfume?
“Are they Kaiser's?” she asked, glancing at him.
She was so close he couldn't help but notice the blue flecks in her eyes, the beautiful sheen of her skin. “Possibly, or maybe the other group we talked about.”
Her eyes stayed locked on his, a silent message passing between them. She gave a tiny nod. “If Kaiser believes you’re dead, why would he still be looking for you?”
“Unless he’s convinced that Jaeger is alive,” Parker said, “and is searching for him. All we have at this point is speculation, but Rory is running a specialized software recognition program developed by Shadow Force founder, Emit Petit. If we can identify even one of the culprits, we’ll be able to know for certain who was behind the missile.”
Ryker shook his head and handed the tablet back to Parker. “They're wearing anti-facial rec visors. You won't be able to get an ID on any of them.”
“Anti-facial rec?” Mia looked confused.
Parker nodded. “Glasses that use near-infrared to white out the features of the face. But,”—she grinned—“we have ways around that.”
“How?” Ryker asked.
Slash and Jaeger returned, Jaeger hopping on Mia this time. “You want to play Go Fish?”
She patted his leg, looking quite at home with a child on her lap. “As soon as your dad and I are done talking to Miss Jeffries, I would love to.”
Jaeger smiled and crawled over to Ryker, a bit of tiredness finally showing as he leaned back and closed his eyes.
Parker picked up where they’d left off. “Trust me when I tell you that Emit and Beatrice aren’t just on the cutting edge of technology, they create the edge. Emit is constantly coming up with software to outthink and outmaneuver anything the NSA or CIA has.”
The plane hit turbulence, jostling all of them.
“Papa?” Jaeger sat straight up, and Ryker had to tighten his hold so the boy didn’t end up in the aisle. His eyes were huge and he gripped onto Ryker’s shirt. “What was that?”
“It’s okay, Jaeg. I’ve got you.”
The little boy put his arms around Ryker’s neck, nestling against him once more as he watched lightning flash outside the window. He’d never been in a plane before.
“Are we okay?” Jaeger asked so softly Ryker almost didn’t hear him.
He’d been a mess about the dog when they’d driven away from the cabin. All their belongings—what few they had—had been destroyed, even Jaeger’s favorite stuffed animal. Losing Mite had been the breaking factor though. Ryker had told Jaeger the dog was fine, but it had been Mia who finally calmed the kid’s worries. She’d told him Mite had been very brave and helped warn her about the explosion. Assuring Jaeger that Mite had run out ahead of her, leading the way, she planted the thought in the boy’s mind that he’d seen the dog speed by them.
Maybe he had. At least it soothed Jaeger’s nerves and he’d been okay, believing his dog a hero.
“We’re fine, mate,” Ryker assured him.
But he had to wonder if the real storm was only just beginning.
* * *
Smile for the camera: you’re never completely alone
* * *
The Trillium Casino glittered like the billionaire who owned it.
As Mia waited for Ryker—now codename Apollo—to hand the car keys to the valet, a young man dressed in black opened her door and welcomed her to the Trillium.
Clunk. The gold band around her finger was accompanied by a diamond the size of a Chihuahua. She kept banging it on things, the passenger window of the Mercedes no exception as she stepped out of the car and onto the sidewalk in front of the casino and hotel. Her dress, a deep burgundy, hugged her body like it was made for her. Probably was. With the miracles Beatrice had already accomplished, it wouldn't be out of the question.
Mia loved fine clothes. The way the fabric felt against her skin, the beautiful colors, the weight of the garment. Expensive even smelled better. There hadn’t been any nice clothes in a long time, not since her firing. She planned to revel in every single garment Beatrice had sent with her. Tonight’s dress was a few inches shorter than she liked and showed off enough thigh to grab the attention of three men coming out of the glass front doors.
“I'll take it from here.”
The young man dropped her hand as Ryke
r stepped up next to her, putting an arm around her waist. His touch was protective and controlling at the same time, and although she fit into the curve of his arm perfectly, the warning sensors in her head went berserk.
She leaned into him for the camera’s sake. Security inside and out was heavy, and she had no doubts they were being watched as a bellhop rolled their suitcases inside. “You might try a smile,” she said under her breath. “We’re supposed to be newlyweds, remember?”
A slight grin touched his lips, but his tone was as snide as ever. “How could I forget?”
As they crossed the threshold the sights and sounds of the casino hit them full force. Gold fixtures, white marble, deep wood grains, plush carpeting—everything was high-end glam with a slight Greek influence. It was impossible though, for her to focus on the beauty of the place or the extensive, pricey artwork everywhere she looked, when Ryker's hand was on her hip, burning right through the silky fabric.
The main floor was laid out into separate quarters. On the left was the hotel reception desk, and a large restaurant behind that. To the right was the casino, music thumping. The sound of slot machines and multiple roulette wheels, and the rise and fall of people's voices—cheers and groans—fogged the air.
Approaching the front desk, she laughed like her husband had said something funny and put her hand on his chest, making sure to flash her four carat diamond for those watching. Plenty of people were, women of all ages had their eyes on Ryker.
He was dressed in an expensive Italian suit, all silk. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the top, a heavy gold chain caressing his collarbone.
“Be sure we have a view, darling,” she said, slipping her fingers across the bare skin of his throat and batting her eyelashes at him.
His dark eyes smoldered back at her, making her swallow hard, her pulse beating fervently. In those dark eyes, she saw the promise of what he planned to do to her later.
And holy mamma, certain parts of her anatomy shouted out a hell yeah!
It’s only a game. How many times was she going to have to remind herself about that on this mission? Most likely, the only thing he wanted to do was strangle her.
“You heard the lady,” Ryker said to the clerk behind the desk. “Mr. and Mrs. Manafort. We need a room with a view for the weekend.”
The clerk asked if they had a reservation, Ryker said no, and then flashed a gold credit card, demanding the penthouse suite. As the clerk informed him it was occupied and offered other options, Mia took time to scan the area.
One of her earrings contained a small camera and she made sure to angle her face toward all the exits, visible security cameras, and the obvious guards. As Ryker argued with the clerk about their accommodations, Mia acted bored and wandered across the hall to the casino, repeating her scan so Parker, who was somewhere nearby, received as much intel as possible. The earbud in Mia's ear would be picking up sounds; the expensive diamond watch on her wrist provided even more details, a tiny GPS chip hidden inside, along with several tools under the face and in the wristband. Tools such as a lock pick, a tiny screwdriver, communications receiver, and sensors that monitored Mia’s heart rate and other biometric markers she probably didn't want to know about. Just in case, Parker had told her. She didn't need to know what that meant—if she were kidnapped, tortured, or killed, Parker would be the first to know.
Happy thought, that.
The crowd was thick. The cocktail waitresses, dressed as showgirls, circled and mingled with skill. Mia searched for Kaiser but came up empty. A waitress swept past, offering her a glass of champagne.
She took it and pretended to sip, noting several full poker tables in the back of the room. Real, honest to God Champagne fizzed under her nose, and it was all she could do to not take a real sip of the delicious smelling stuff. Just like the designer clothing and expensive jewelry, she loved Champagne, especially the good stuff. It had been so, so long since she'd had any, or any reason to celebrate with a special bottle.
From the information Beatrice had gathered, the high-stake games took place in private rooms on the second floor. Kaiser was probably involved in one of those.
She nearly spilled her drink when Ryker swept up behind her, setting his hands on her hips and nuzzling her ear. His expensive cologne held notes of bergamot and pine. “We've attracted attention,” he murmured, his breath firm on her neck. “Keep it up.”
Goosebumps ran down her spine and she fought the urge to lean against him. Why did he have to be so damn sexy? Annoying, but still sexier than any guy she'd ever dated.
She glanced to the left then to the right. Several undercover security guards were keeping them under a close watch. One was a short Asian fellow who looked away when she caught him staring. The other a tall, platinum Norwegian pretending to play blackjack. “That was the plan, darling.”
The goosebumps continued south as Ryker kissed under her earlobe. His warm lips made her gasp slightly. “Any sign of our target?”
What is wrong with me? She felt like silly putty under his fingers, his lips on her skin making her nearly groan on the spot. “I, uh…”
His body was flush against her back. Her eyes fluttered closed, her hips angling into Ryker’s hands of their own volition. She’d gone far too long without male companionship. The slightest touch from the opposite sex was doing a number on her.
Remember you're mad at him. He's annoying. He’s probably broken many, many women's hearts.
“Earth to Mia,” he whispered. “You still with me?”
“Uh…huh.”
The tantalizing hands on her hips suddenly turned her around. Her eyes flew open and she found herself staring into Ryker’s steady gaze. He hesitated for a second, scanning her face and frowning. “You're not getting cold feet, are you?” At her pause, he rolled his eyes. “I knew it. I should have brought someone more experienced in undercover work.”
Irritation slammed into her once more, slapping down her hormones. She plastered on a smile so no one would see her anger, and Ryker wouldn't sense her embarrassment. “I may not have completed multiple missions like you, but I was trained by the same people. It's insulting when you dismiss my skills and the fact I came here to help you and finally put an end to Kaiser's criminal enterprises. Don't do that again.”
A real smile curved his lips and he laughed softly. “My apologies.” He gave her the slightest mocking bow. “My manners are rusty, and you're right, if anyone deserves to be here, working this with me, it's you. I owe you an apology as well over what happened after Berlin. I should've found a way to let you know I was alive, but the truth is, I didn't trust you any more than I did the rest.”
Still don’t, she thought, but she planned to change that now that he’d apologized.
He offered his arm to her. “Shall we check out our room and make sure the view meets with your approval? The valet has already taken our bags upstairs.”
Mia slipped her hand through the crook of his arm and covertly jammed her diamond ring into his ribs, all the while smiling like the wife she was supposed to be. “No sign of Kaiser. How soon do you think it will be until he pays us a visit?”
He led her into the hallway, toward the elevators, covertly rubbing the spot and laughing softly under his breath. “Not long.”
Parker suddenly piped up in Mia's earbud. “Security is already running facial rec on both of you.”
She tried not to show the fact she'd been startled, having completely forgotten about the fact their handler was listening in as well as getting video feed from Mia's earring. “Good to know.”
In the elevator, they were alone, but undoubtedly being watched. The lower level, second, and penthouse floor buttons were blacked out—private keys only. What was in the lower level? Many French homes, as well as businesses, didn’t have basements and Parker’s research had indicated the only things housed there were the vault and the normal myriad of plumbing, electrical, and mechanical elements needed to run the casino and hotel.
Ryker pulled her close, bending his head to nuzzle at her ear again. “Laugh,” he whispered.
Laugh? It was all she could do to keep her eyeballs from rolling up into her head as one of his hands pressed on her lower back, pushing her pelvis into contact with his. She took a deep breath, sending her mind to something benign, anything to keep her in acting mode, rather than re-acting mode.
Chloe. Her sister was staying with one of their neighbors, a woman whose only son also suffered from autism. She was a social worker and was good with Chloe, often watching her when Mia had to work—even though Chloe was sixteen, she couldn’t leave her alone. She’d immediately said yes when Mia had asked if Chloe could spend the weekend.
Thinking about her sister did the trick. Mia pulled herself together and managed a sexy giggle, playfully slapping Ryker’s shoulder as she ground her hips into his with wanton abandon.
In her ear, she heard his quick intake of breath.
“You are so bad,” she jokingly said to him. Was anyone eavesdropping? If so, she might as well make this good. “Can’t you wait until we get to the room?”
He chuckled low, the sound dangerous and slightly unnerving, as he pulled back slightly to look at her. There was a new light in his eyes. Approval? Or had she managed to get under his skin this time? “Maybe we should skip dinner and order room service.”
Damn he was good, so much better than she was at this. There was serious hunger in his eyes, and Mia wasn't sure whether it was for food or something else.
Acting. He's only playing his part.
Some small part of her, however, wished a man would look at her like that for real. No one ever had, and she suddenly felt a sucking hole in the center of her chest. What would it feel like to make a man like Ryker crazy for you?
The elevator made a soft ding and the doors slid open. The two of them stayed immobile for another second, something passing between them that Mia couldn't name.
