Whispered Lies

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Welcome to four days of hell.

  She moved until her hips met his.

  Carlos gritted his teeth and eased back, whispering, “You ready to get to work?”

  Gabrielle’s eyes flew open, filled with disappointment. Then accusation. And finally, the worst blow, hurt.

  Just kill me now. He wanted her, dammit, but letting her in on that would only complicate this further.

  “The sooner you finish your work here, the sooner this is over with.” Carlos maintained a façade of hard determination, feeling like a snake for giving her the false impression that she’d get her life back if they succeeded at finding a link between Mandy and Amelia.

  He couldn’t tell her Joe had lied to her.

  BAD generally brought felons into custody for a short time, then they became someone else’s problem.

  He couldn’t look at her and think felon.

  Gabrielle swung away from him, grabbed the handle of her suitcase, and disappeared into the bedroom, slamming the door.

  Yep, four days of hell.

  Carlos sighed. He used the psuedo-iPod to search for bugs while he waited on Gabrielle to regroup and walk out of the bedroom. He found one bug, then returned it to the white marble base of a crystal sculpture centrally located on the low coffee table.

  Phone had to be tapped as well.

  When the door opened again, Gabrielle emerged dressed in navy slacks and a white, scooped-neck sweater. Her hair was falling loose around her shoulders in thick waves.

  Everything had changed, except the hurt in her eyes.

  He needed her to trust him without question while here or he couldn’t protect her since neither of them knew what dangers lurked inside this ancient pile of stones.

  Carlos walked over to her.

  She crossed her arms and looked away.

  “You forgot your earrings,” he told her.

  She frowned at him, lifting a hand to her ear. “What?”

  He lifted his finger to his lips and pointed at the bedroom. She backed into the room and he closed the door, then ran a quick scan over the room for a bug. None.

  Whoever set the bug hadn’t figured on her having company.

  He stepped close to her, but she backed away. He put his hands on her shoulders, holding her in place when he leaned down to whisper, “There’s a listening device in the sitting area next to the phone.”

  She stiffened.

  “Since we know where the bug is, we’ll be careful. And, about earlier, I didn’t mean to-”

  “What? You didn’t mean to what?” She turned her face to his, eyes first hopeful, then waiting to be hurt again.

  Her lip trembled.

  He couldn’t build trust if he trounced on her feelings.

  “You didn’t mean to kiss me,” she continued. “Why? Because I’m not good at it?”

  Ah, hell.

  Her forehead squeezed with a frown. “Or was there something else you had in mind to tell me? Like how you don’t like having to be here with me or…” Her voice was turning more heartbroken by the minute. “Or how I’m not your type-”

  The job had nothing to do with what he had in mind.

  “I didn’t mean to…do this.” He drew her into his arms and kissed her.

  Her hands slipped around his back, climbing up his spine, honing the edge of desire that charged through him.

  The first time he’d kissed her had been an unexpected pleasure, but nothing like this one, that burned with a fever pitch. His mouth feasted on hers, taking all she gave to him willingly. If she’d held back or hesitated, he might have been able to pull out of the spinning nosedive, but she kept urging him for more.

  He pulled her closer, loving the feel of her. A real woman with curves in all the right places and perfectly shaped. His fingers lifted the back of her cashmere sweater from the waistband of her pants, then he felt the smooth skin hidden beneath the gossamer fabric. Soft, like her. He inched his fingers up her back, nothing impeding his progress.

  Nothing. As in, no bra.

  Carlos groaned. She was practically naked in his hands.

  She rubbed her hips against him, right where he was hard as the rock walls surrounding this compound.

  The surge of heat that shot up through his groin shook him.

  She wanted this as much as he did, so why not?

  Clearly, the wrong brain had taken over doing the thinking.

  Her hands moved between them, clutching at his shirt, turning him on more even, though her movements were awkward at times as if she had little experience. Definite turn-on.

  He’d had women who knew every way to touch a man.

  Gabrielle was fresh and eager in a way that felt innocent.

  She lifted the bottom of his shirt. Her delicate hands sent shivers up his spine with the way she touched his abs, lightly, then more boldly. She shoved the material up farther and lowered her head to kiss his abdomen.

  Her fingers moved ahead, playfully caressing his nipples then pausing at…the scar on his chest.

  The Anguis tattoo.

  If she found out…what little sanity he had left gnawed its way through the desire frying his brain. He still didn’t know how much she knew about the Anguis. Carlos pulled his hands quickly to her shoulders before she lifted his shirt another inch. When he set her away as gently as he could, his shirttail dropped.

  Hallelujah for gravity.

  Confusion glazed her eyes.

  A knock sounded at the front door.

  Good thing, since he did not want to answer the questions percolating behind that gaze. He didn’t want to lose the ground he’d gained either. Carlos dipped his head and gave her a quick kiss, then whispered, “I’ll answer the door. You straighten your clothes.”

  She gasped, looking down at herself, where the worst part was her knit top pulled loose, but it bought him a quick out.

  He shoved his shirttail into his pants and slipped on the shades as he strode to the door, then opened it. “Yes?”

  Pierre was back. “Is Mademoiselle ready?” He tried to peer around Carlos.

  “She’ll be right out.” Carlos closed the door without another word and turned as Gabrielle walked out of the bedroom, neat as a pin.

  She had that look, as if she wanted to talk, but he put his finger to his lips to spare himself a conversation he really didn’t want right now. He winked at her.

  Gabrielle rolled her eyes. She was fully composed when he opened the door wide to reveal Pierre still standing in the same place.

  “Hello, Pierre.” Gabrielle stepped forward, forcing the little squirt to back up. “I’d like to see the IT center and get started.”

  The efficient Pierre nodded and turned to leave.

  Carlos stepped out behind Gabrielle and closed the door, but when he turned around, she hadn’t moved.

  She covered her mouth with her palm and leaned toward Carlos, speaking for his ears only. “If you plan to stay in there with me, we’re not finished with that conversation.”

  SIXTEEN

  I’D LIKE OUR meal sent up to the room at eight thirty,” Gabrielle told Pierre, who’d written the order on a notepad as she’d dictated. She kept her step brisk, her heels snapping against the hard floors on her way back to her room.

  “Oui. Will there be anything else for this evening?”

  “No, thank you.” She checked her watch. That would give her and Carlos a little over an hour when no one should bother them. She glanced back at her bodyguard, whose hard expression hadn’t changed since walking out of the room seven hours ago.

  What was going on behind those bloody sunshades?

  At the last hallway leading to her room, Pierre peeled off in a different direction.

  Carlos reached the door first, punching in the code, then let her step inside. “Stay here while I check everything.”

  Did he really think someone would be lurking inside? She waited until he stepped out of the bedroom and crooked a finger for her to come to him.

 
She walked forward, but he stepped back into the bedroom before she reached him. When she got inside, he pulled her close to him. Gabrielle slapped both hands on his chest and shoved her face up into his.

  “Not until we talk,” she warned, disgusted that every nerve in her body had just jumped into high gear, ready to let him get away with kissing her again.

  To get away with a lot more.

  She had some pride left. No more hot kisses until he explained why he’d stopped the last time.

  The only reason she could figure was that he got caught up in the moment, but wasn’t interested in anything sexual with her. That possibility stung almost as bad as having him yell at her to put clothes on in the cabin.

  He didn’t find her physically attractive.

  Carlos didn’t say a word, but he didn’t intimidate her either. He’d never harm her, physically. She knew that with a certainty she’d never felt about any other man, which weighed heavily in his favor when it came to kissing him.

  They had been halfway to the part where they fell into bed together. She hadn’t dated a man in forever, and sex had become a distant memory.

  But she wanted him to feel the same heat for her.

  Her moral compass spun out of control over the idea of sleeping with a man she didn’t know anything about, whom he worked for, where he came from, or what would happen once this was over. But she’d married a man she knew all that about only to be treated like a bank account with legs. Roberto had used her in more ways than one, leaving her emotionally bankrupt.

  Just once, she’d like to experience true passion.

  But she and Carlos only had an hour, so she didn’t have time for a discussion. She had to get down to business.

  “We have to hurry,” she started in a hushed voice.

  “About that kiss-,” he murmured. Was that guilt rippling through his voice?

  “We don’t have time for that right now.” She almost smiled at his confusion. “First, I have to take this panic button off. When I stepped near a communication console, it buzzed and everyone looked up. I don’t know why it happened. Next, I got into Amelia’s records. She’s expected back, at least on paper. I found the plans for this compound in the archives and the floor her room is on.”

  Understanding dawned in his eyes. “Stick the panic button in my bag. Put on soft-soled shoes. Tell me you’re taking a nap and don’t want to be bothered. Speak loud enough to be heard in the living room and use that snobby tone again.”

  Snobby? She curled her lip in what she hoped was a feral look.

  His eyes crinkled, but he didn’t laugh. “I’m not criticizing. I was impressed.”

  Her insides melted over the compliment. She backed out of his arms and quietly pulled her sneakers from the suitcase. Once she had those on, she took a fortifying breath before speaking loud enough for anyone listening to hear.

  “Jet lag is catching up to me. I need a nap and I don’t want to be disturbed.”

  Carlos walked out into the living room so she followed him. He closed the bedroom door with a solid thump, then pulled her over to the powder room and closed that door softly once they were both inside.

  “This room is safe. What about the plans?” he asked.

  “When the IT center was built, the engineers needed the plans so they could run additional power and so forth. I recall a worker talking about how they couldn’t set a beam in one spot because of the underground tunnels. So I dug around for the plans today and found how the wires had been run underground between this building and student housing for women. I think they took the easy way and ran the wiring through the tunnels.”

  “Okay, so what does that do for us?”

  She cocked her head in a smug angle. “While you were looking all hot and dangerous outside the glass window to the IT center, I was locating Amelia’s room and creating a loop for the security cameras we’d pass. She’s in the high-priority residence area, same section where Linette and I stayed. If we’re quick, we can check out the room to see if she’s coming back, but they’ll become suspicious if the camera loops run too long. We may see some students since this is mealtime, but once they shut the building for the night, security walks the halls.”

  “Will you be able to tell if anything looks wrong about the room?”

  “Yes. When Linette left without notice, her half of our room was clean within a day. If Amelia is gone against her will, I’m thinking at least one-half of the room will be spotless.”

  “Good idea. Nice job.”

  “Thanks.” She preened inside and started to reach for the handle when he said, “Hot and dangerous?”

  Gabrielle cut her eyes up at him. “Like you weren’t playing up the sexy bodyguard bit to the hilt for the females ogling you?”

  “Just doing my job.” His eyes crinkled with humor that downplayed the stern frown he gave her, then his face turned all serious. “Tell me how we get to the tunnel.”

  She explained the back way to the stairs and the room where the access point to the tunnel should be if it was still there.

  “What about the code to our door?” he asked.

  She smiled. “I’ve set it so we can bypass security by keying in a secondary code that will not show up on their panel. But the original code will still go through if someone tries to come in.”

  “I’ll leave a set of eyes to catch anyone who might try, but I doubt they’ll bother Mademoiselle Tynte Saxe.” He winked and her blood pressure spiked. “The minute we step out of here, don’t say a word and do everything I tell you to do.”

  “Like that ever changes?”

  Carlos ignored Gabrielle’s jab and took her hand, opening the door, then leading her into the living room, where he positioned her next to the exit door. He didn’t like her ditching the panic button, but they didn’t need to draw attention either. He was not letting her out of arm’s reach from here on out, which would be an issue later tonight, but he’d face that then.

  Opening the glass doors to the patio where the wind was blowing, he placed an open magazine next to the glass figurine where the bug was planted. The pages fluttered intermittently from the breeze.

  He placed his psuedo-iPod on the top of a cabinet with a laser beam set to trigger the video recorder in the unit if the door opened.

  At the door to the hallway, he entered the secondary code, then pulled her out behind him. Carlos kept a steady pace, moving them down the hall silent as a shadow. The door to the stairs creaked, but no one appeared in the thirty seconds he waited, so they descended three floors down to the basement. Carlos flipped on a small LED light and let Gabrielle lead him to a room that smelled as damp and musty as it looked.

  “It should be on this wall.” Her whisper echoed and she froze.

  “No one should hear anything down here unless there’s a bug, and they have no reason to put one in this spot. Stand still while I check.” He shone the light across the wall, running his hands over the stones. No obvious breaks. Cobwebs reached across the walls with wispy fingers, tying several weathered trunks to a long cabinet that hit Carlos chest high. He carefully moved the trunks, checking behind them. Nothing. The cabinet weighed as much as a full refrigerator. He gripped the side at the back and put everything he had behind, pulling it away from the wall.

  “There’s a panel,” Gabrielle whispered, softer this time.

  He put a foot against the wall for leverage and strained every muscle to widen the gap to three feet. Enough for them to squeeze into the opening.

  Four tarnished brass pins held the panel on the wall. He unscrewed the pins, then put the panel on the cabinet and forced his body through the angle into the dark hole. Reaching a hand behind him, he waved her forward.

  She touched his fingers, letting him know she was there.

  He pinched the LED light and stood up, banging his head on the hard ceiling. He held back the curse he wanted to yell and caught her by the shoulder before she made the same mistake. “Don’t stand up too quick.”

 
Wasted effort since she was able to stand without touching the ceiling.

  “Must have been a damn small bunch of warriors living here back when,” he muttered, drawing her along behind him.

  Gabrielle whispered about the two turns they had to find to reach the student housing. Her slender hand was cold in his, gripping his fingers with all her strength.

  He towed her along, wanting to chuckle at the fast flip in personality. She was a study in contradictions. One minute she was quiet and flush with embarrassment, then the next she was taking him to task over not finishing the kiss.

  She had to think she’d done something wrong. He owed her an explanation or at least an apology for being a jerk.

  Or a kiss. He wouldn’t mind owing her a kiss if not for it sending the wrong message and crossing all over the lines of a mission. He’d never had this issue with a prisoner, and never with any one woman.

  But all he had to do was hear her voice or get a whiff of her perfume or the smell of her shampoo and he wanted her.

  “This is where it should be,” she murmured when they reached the middle of a long passage with no doors.

  At the next corner, Carlos saw a dust of light breaking through from above.

  “There it is.” He let go of her hand and shone his light up the opening that rose eight feet above them. Long fingers of light pierced through a grate at the top. Rows of spikes had been driven into the wall at one-foot intervals from the grate, forming a ladder that ran down to waist-high above the ground.

  He pulled her close. “I can’t put you up there first since I don’t know what’s on the other side.”

  “Go ahead. I can get up the ladder by myself.”

  “Okay, I’ll wave you up as soon as it’s clear. Keep this.” He handed her the light and reached two rungs up so he could catch his foot on the last one, then started climbing. When he reached the grate, it appeared to open into a storage room with hot-water heaters and cleaning equipment.

  He used one hand to push up on the grate, holding himself to the ladder with the other. He put his shoulder into inching the heavy metal to the side. It slid on a track.

  That was the good news.

  The bad news was a squeak caused by friction at one point.