by Abigail Roux
Ty snorted, though it was obvious he was trying not to smile. His hand came to rest on Zane’s forearm, and he leaned his head back against Zane’s shoulder. “Now I think you’re just trying to get laid.”
“I do watch you, you know,” Zane murmured, sliding one hand up and down on Ty’s chest and belly. “Did long before this case.”
Ty jerked his head to the side and turned in place, giving Zane’s chest a half-hearted shove. “You’re not getting out of trouble this easily. We have work to do.”
Zane started to smile and tightened his arms. “One kiss,” he bargained. He wanted to keep Ty’s mind off what others thought of him and on what Zane thought of him.
Ty shook his head, but his arms tightened around Zane’s waist as Zane pulled him closer, and Ty was smiling. “Make it a good one,” he challenged playfully.
Oh, Zane was more than up for the challenge. He raised one hand to grip the back of Ty’s skull and claimed his mouth in a torrid rush, literally plundering Ty in a bruising kiss. It went on and on as he expressed the possessiveness and desperation he felt, but then he slowed, appreciating Ty’s kiss like he hadn’t in a long time, and he smoothed and gentled the movement of his lips as he cajoled Ty’s tongue into play. Every touch he got back turned him on more, but since he was getting only one kiss, he wanted to make the most of it. Zane didn’t let go as he drew it out, tracing Ty’s lips with his tongue and tenderly lapping at Ty’s swollen bottom lip before finally surrendering it and pulling back.
When he did, Ty groaned softly and took Zane’s face in both hands to keep him from moving away.
“Damn you,” he muttered in defeat, pulling Zane closer to kiss him again.
TY SAT on one of the many lounge chairs set up along the wide deck, looking out over the choppy water. He held his sunglasses in his hand, the roiling clouds overhead making it too dark to need them. He’d pulled both feet up into the seat and was resting one elbow on his knee, his eyes on the water but his mind elsewhere.
He probably would have looked like a model waiting for his picture to be taken if it hadn’t been for the garish red Santa hat he was wearing. He actually felt less self-conscious with it on because it hid the platinum blond hair.
Zane had gone off to yet another poker game after an early dinner. He had seriously balked at the idea at first, fearing another bottle of Scotch, but when Bianchi had called, there had been hints that business might be conducted at this one. Ty had wanted to accompany him, but again, it was too risky. Plus, Zane needed to know Ty trusted him. Ty wasn’t actually sure that he did—at least when it came to the drinking—but now was as good a time as any to find out.
So with Zane gone, he’d come out here to clear his mind and hide from Norina Bianchi, who seemed determined to force him to have another massage. He’d been out here for about half an hour, staring off into nowhere and enjoying simply being there for once.
Everyone else had cleared off the deck soon after his arrival, scrambling inside with their arms full of beach towels and books, expecting the quickly approaching dark clouds to bring rain with them. Ty knew better, though. He’d seen enough on the water to know when a storm was coming. A storm was definitely coming, but it wasn’t coming with these clouds.
He sat motionless, enjoying the utter silence of the approaching front and the cool breeze on his salty skin. The ominous clouds reflected off the water, turning the surface silver. It was an otherworldly seascape, one that took Ty to places he hadn’t visited in some time. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t hear anyone approaching.
“Do you not suppose you should get inside?” a voice asked from behind him.
Ty’s expression didn’t change even though the sudden appearance of the man had startled him. He merely tilted his head from one side to the other, watching Vartan Armen move in his peripheral vision.
“It’s not going to rain,” Ty answered slowly, the British accent coming out satisfactorily. He still needed to work on it. And he needed to know why in the fuck Armen was out here when he was supposed to be playing poker inside.
Armen remained silent, and he sat in the chair next to Ty, seemingly content to watch the ocean roll just as Ty was. The clouds passing overhead were moving fast, the reflected light turning the water a deep sea-green now. When Armen did finally speak, his voice was low and serious. “You’ve taken to your role quite astonishingly well.”
Ty felt his body go cold, but again he didn’t react outwardly, continuing to stare at the green water without comment. If Armen had found them out as frauds, this was a surprisingly civil way of announcing it.
“I hired you to spy on the man, not fall in love with him,” Armen said calmly, though his clipped tones betrayed his annoyance.
Ty turned his head to look at him, forcing himself to skillfully conceal his shock with a blank expression. Armen met his eyes and raised one eyebrow as if expecting Ty to say something. Ty stared at him without any intention of speaking. Anything he said right now would give him away as an imposter.
“Well?” Armen asked expectantly. “Are you merely more capable than I ever supposed, or will it truly be a problem if you’re forced to harm him?”
“It won’t be a problem,” Ty answered immediately.
“Good,” Armen said with a pleased sneer that made Ty feel greasy as he looked at it. Armen looked him over critically. “When you told me you’d have to change your appearance I admit I wasn’t expecting this,” he said with a gesture at Ty’s face. “I quite approve.”
Ty merely nodded, his mind racing as he looked back at the water again. He found it was slightly more difficult to catch his breath than it had been five minutes ago.
“I have the flash drive you left for me at the hotel. I assume you received your payment promptly? Good. I want the other drive before the cruise is over. The money will be wired to your account as before.”
Ty swallowed hard and decided to take a chance on digging for a little more information. “And the Italians?”
“They are none of your concern,” Armen said sharply. “Your job is Corbin Porter. Let those blasted, feeble Guardia agents handle the Bianchis.”
Ty nodded obediently, his jaw clenching.
“If he catches wind of your plotting, I assume you will take care of things,” Armen ordered abruptly as he stood. “Good day, Mr. Porter.”
And then he was gone, strolling off down the length of the deck as the wind kicked up and plucked at his tie.
Ty licked his lips, tasting salt as he ruminated over this new development. He waited calmly until Armen was out of sight, and then he pushed out of his chair and sprinted for the doors.
ZANE had just tossed a couple $1,000 chips into the pot to call and leaned back in his chair when he saw a familiar face appear at the door to the private lounge where the serious poker players congregated. A glance at his watch confirmed that he’d not even been at the table for thirty minutes, and Zane was starting to wonder if he’d be able to leave Ty alone at all without something disastrous happening.
Ty hesitated at the door, looking around the room as if searching for someone else before he took a single step into the room. Zane frowned slightly but kept his eye on Ty while also watching the cards dealt out in the hand of five card stud on the table. Ty didn’t move closer, though. He merely stayed at the entrance and watched. After thirty seconds dragged by, Zane threw in his cards, picked up his half-empty glass, and excused himself, nodding to the dealer who said he’d hold back Zane’s chips for the time being. Within another few breaths, Zane joined Ty at the door just as another couple passed by.
“Miss me, doll?” Zane asked casually, staying in character.
“I definitely missed something,” Ty murmured as his eyes searched the room again furtively. “We need to get to a computer. Now.”
Zane raised one brow and slid his arm around Ty’s waist, turning them out to the game room. “By all means, lead the way.” Then he lowered his voice. “And who are we looking for?”
“Armen,” Ty hissed in answer. “If he sees me here with you right now, we’re both in deep shit.”
“I’ve not seen him tonight,” Zane said as he dropped his arm and moved to put himself between Ty and the bulk of the game room as they walked, just in case.
“I have,” Ty said grimly. He took Zane’s hand and began pulling him through the casino faster, barely slowing when someone got in his way.
Zane pressed his lips together hard as they wound their way out of the room and out into the promenade. Ty wouldn’t sound so grim if it didn’t have to do with a death threat. Del sure was a target. Zane quickly angled Ty off into the next hallway, which was thankfully empty. “We can cut around the back way to the library and avoid the public areas. What’s going on?”
Ty stopped and put his back to the nearest wall, looking over Zane’s shoulder first and then meeting Zane’s eyes. “I was sitting out on the deck watching the storm roll in,” he started in a low voice. “Armen found me out there. The short of it is that he hired Del to get close to Corbin, to spy on him. He came to me to make certain I was still up to the job. Wanted to make sure I wasn’t too attached to my mark,” he spat out.
Zane swallowed on his surprise and cleared his throat. “He hired Del to spy on Corbin—on his own husband? And Del agreed to it? Jesus.” He set his hands on his hips. “Can this case get any more fucked up?”
Ty closed his eyes in frustration. “Del is a merc, Zane,” he said through gritted teeth. “He’s not married to Corbin because he loves him. He married him because he was hired to seduce him. We have to contact Baltimore and let them know he’s dangerous.”
Zane went absolutely cold as fury threatened. Yes, Corbin Porter was a thief, a thug, and an asshole. But no one should be taken in and played like that. Not with marriage. Zane forced himself to take even breaths and look Ty over. “You’re okay?” he checked, just in case. For all they knew, Del turned tricks for Vartan Armen too.
“I’m pissed,” Ty answered emphatically. Whether he was angry for the same reason as Zane was anyone’s guess, though. “And I’m worried that if Del is able to contact Armen, our cover will be blown all to hell. Which is why we need to get to a computer.”
“Let’s go. If Del turned on Corbin, he might have weaseled his way out of custody,” Zane said as he turned to lead the way to the satellite Internet terminals in the library. Then a thought occurred and he stopped still. “Is it possible Armen was playing you? Trying to make you flip cover? That he already knows?”
“Anything’s possible at this point,” Ty muttered unhappily. “I played it as straight as I could.”
“I know you did,” Zane said, already trying to think of contingency plans. “Come on.”
They were in the library in under ten minutes, and Zane sat down at one of the terminals in the back. He quickly logged in, paid for the account time, and launched an anonymous browser session, and within a couple of minutes had gotten through the umpteen layers of encrypted and password-protected server gateways to launch a secure e-mail on the Bureau’s extended system.
As soon as the e-mail was sent off, Ty leaned over the computer desk and banged his head on the table. The little white ball on the tip of his Santa hat flopped over disconsolately. “That’s the most anticlimactic SOS I’ve ever seen sent,” he muttered against the table.
Zane chuckled wryly and leaned back in the chair. All they could do was wait here for an answer. “You should have brought your crossword puzzle book.”
Ty sighed heavily and sank to his knees, then turned and flopped onto the ground, effectively hiding under the desk so no one could see him there with Zane. He propped his elbows on his knees and looked up at Zane, ready to wait, and Zane reached over and pushed the tip of the hat off the desk.
It didn’t matter that they were in what might be a life-threatening situation. Zane’s thoughts focused sharply on just exactly what Ty could be doing while on his knees under that desk, if he’d just scoot over between Zane’s legs. It took a hell of a lot of willpower to try to banish that thought.
They watched each other silently for a couple of minutes before Zane spoke up, more to distract himself from the urge to get on his knees too. “Want to watch a football game?”
That got Ty’s attention. He perked up and leaned forward. “How?” he asked eagerly.
Zane shrugged and turned back to the terminal. He minimized the e-mail window after making sure it would alert them to a new message and launched a new window. After several clicks, he was scanning through available streaming video from the NFL Network. “We’ve got Jacksonville versus Buffalo, Atlanta and Cleveland, Broncos at the Ravens, and… Arizona at New Orleans. Take your pick.”
“Give me Saints,” Ty demanded as he got to his knees again and turned to look up at the computer. His arms were folded over the edge of the table, and he stayed on the ground, content to kneel there at Zane’s knee.
“Not Baltimore?”
“Ravens are like step-children,” Ty answered as he squinted up at the screen. “I love them, but they’re still sleeping on the couch when the house is full.”
“So what team did you grow up watching? From West Virginia… the Steelers?” It only took a few keystrokes to pay for the satellite access, and the game from the past Sunday popped up on the screen, just before kickoff.
“We were sort of a perfect storm,” Ty answered as he rested his chin on his hands. “With baseball it was all Braves all the way on TBS. But football, we caught Cincinnati, Washington, Pittsburgh, Philly, Cleveland. Whoever was on network that week. I was partial to the Redskins. But I got attached to the Saints when I was in Louisiana.”
Another piece of Ty’s life casually revealed. “I never watched any team but the Cowboys before I lived in Miami,” Zane commented, storing away the new little bits of information about his partner.
“Well, I’ve always been a whore,” Ty said wryly.
Zane looked down at Ty in surprise, and his comment popped out before he thought about it. “Wow. I am so true to form.” Ty still razzed Zane for fucking around with prostitutes-turned-informants on the job, even though it had happened way before they ever met. Zane had been a serious mess at the time, but he sure wasn’t now.
Ty glared up at him briefly, but he didn’t take exception to the comment. Not vocally, anyway. He just pointed at the screen and wagged his fingers urgently.
Zane turned up the volume as the players lined up. “There you go,” he said, happy with himself.
Ty patted Zane’s knee, appearing just as pleased, and he left his hand resting there as he watched the screen devotedly. Zane smiled and spent just as much time watching Ty as he did the game and the minimized tab.
They were partway through the second quarter before the little tab started flashing.
“About damn time,” Ty said as he pointed at the flashing icon. “Click it, click it!”
Zane paused the video and clicked over to the e-mail. He opened the RE: and started reading:
Thanks for the update. The Punch and Judy show’s still on.
“That’s it?” Ty asked incredulously. “I’m gonna kill Mac when we get home.”
Zane leaned back and rubbed his eyes. “I’m certainly starting to feel like a damn puppet,” he muttered.
Ty sighed loudly, and his shoulders slumped. “Well,” he drew out reluctantly. He looked up at Zane with a shrug. “I guess we keep going.” His fingers tightened against Zane’s knee as he pushed himself off the floor.
Zane watched him stand. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Ty looked down at him with wide eyes and patted his pockets absently, then nodded as if remembering what he was forgetting. He bent over to kiss Zane squarely. When he stood back up, he said, “Saints win it 17-9. Come on.” And he turned and started toward the exit.
It took Zane ten keystrokes to shut down the terminal, and he was on Ty’s heels out the door.
Ty led the way to a lounge some ways from t
he promenade. It wasn’t as busy as many of the bigger restaurants. Zane glanced around at the low lighting, leather couches, and tiny tables, and he wondered what Ty was thinking.
“Are we having a snack?” Zane asked as Ty walked to a grouping of overstuffed armchairs in an out-of-the-way corner.
“I am keeping away from places I know Armen might be right now,” Ty answered as he raised his hand to get the attention of a waiter. “And….” He hesitated and looked at Zane worriedly. “I told you I’d go over some tricks with the drinking on duty. I figure now’s as good a time as any. Because I sure as hell need a drink.”
Zane raised a brow, then shrugged, and sat down. “Sounds good to me.”
“What can I get for you, gentlemen?” a waiter asked as he appeared at their chairs.
Ty held up two fingers. “Two glasses, bucket of ice, bottle of water, and a Scotch, please,” he rattled off quickly before Zane could even open his mouth. The waiter nodded and moved away.
Ty appeared unsettled, so Zane decided to sit close to him. He settled in the chair next to Ty, crossed his legs easily, and leaned toward his lover. “We’re not in view of the door,” he pointed out. “You can ease up a little.”
Ty glanced at the entryway, then met Zane’s eyes. He appeared somber and worried, the odd look in his eyes one that was singularly arresting. Zane held his gaze for a long moment before reaching out to touch Ty’s forearm and rub it gently as he waited for Ty to calm. His partner was usually pretty laid back—despite his innate twitchiness—but when Ty got riled up, it could be a difficult proposition to gear him down. Zane was all too aware of how he’d been contributing to Ty’s most recent stress.
Ty took a deep breath and leaned closer to him. “You still want to do this?”
Zane frowned a little. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Ty smiled slightly. “Okay. We both know you have to drink sometimes to sell a cover. And I think we’re in agreement that you shouldn’t. At all. A friend of mine taught me some tricks years ago for those situations. I… didn’t really handle them well at first.”
