“It’s fine where it is,” she replied, her words clipped and sharp.
He sat down beside her. “Now you’re pissed.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry if I was abrupt. It’s just that I don’t like having to beg some stranger to retrieve my luggage, like I’m some little girl who can’t take care of herself.”
Kyle studied her pretty face. With those doe eyes, she looked like a little girl, but the body, while petite, was all woman. “I would have gotten it down for you, too.”
She smiled. “I know you would have. However, it’s fine here. I’ve plenty of leg room.” She proved this by stretching her feet out, so they just barely rested on the edge of her luggage.
“Exactly how tall are you?” He wondered how she had managed to get through the physical training for the FBI.
“I’m four-foot-eleven. Five feet in shoes. I usually weigh between eighty and eighty-five pounds.”
Kyle studied the hard expression on her face. She knew what he was thinking, so he might as well ask. “So, how’d you get in the Bureau? I thought they had height and weight exclusions.”
“They do. Or they did. My application had been denied eight times when Jason Connors said he’d take me as a researcher if I could pass the Academy’s physical.”
“What about the academic part?”
Carmella shrugged. “Well, that too. But the question was whether I could survive the physical regime.”
“And?”
She smiled. “I’m here aren’t I?”
Kyle leaned toward her. “You have the most beautiful smile. I bet all the men in your office love to see that smile.”
Her smile disappeared. “I think the men in my office would love to see me fired. They think I’m an embarrassment to the Bureau, and quite frankly your comments didn’t help matters.”
Kyle cringed. He vaguely remembered some imprudent, pissed-off comments made at Carmella’s expense. “I’m sorry about that. I was out of line. To be honest, I had just gotten back from a rather messy situation in Algeria and was looking forward to a little R and R.”
“It’s all right. I’m used to it by now.” She pulled some papers from her briefcase.
His hand settled on hers. “It’s not okay. If you passed the requirements, you have as much right as anyone in that office to carry a badge.”
She stared at him for a moment and then resumed her reading.
Kyle looked at the document. “What language is that?”
“It’s a phonetic dictation of stories from a Marobi tribesman. The Marobi only have a spoken language, but the writer has done an excellent job of writing a phonetic representation of their spoken language.”
“Wouldn’t it have been easier just to translate the words into a known language? English, for example…”
“Well, that was done.” She handed Kyle another set of papers. “But sometimes translations lose a portion of the meaning.” Holding up her paper, she pointed to a section. “This is what the tribesman said. What you hold is merely a glimpse of the original. For example, the first paragraph. Yours says a great warrior came from another land. Whereas what the tribesman actually said implies something far more mystical. The verb ‘cantobi’ is only spoken in connection with spirits and forces of nature. The speaker’s use of a spirit word plus “ekiba” which can mean outside, or a large open space such as the sky, would imply that he did not know where the warrior came from but felt certain it was not on this earth.”
Kyle was impressed. “So you speak Marobi.”
Carmella nodded, fingering the paper nervously. “Some.”
“A lot some, or a little some?”
She shrugged. “I can hold my own in a conversation, should the occasion arise.”
Kyle could tell the discussion made her nervous, so he let it go with one comment. “Well, then, should the occasion arise, I will be comforted you are my partner.”
When the plane landed, Kyle stood up and pulled his bag from the overhead. Looking around he tried to imagine what it would be like to be five-foot tall and having to ask one of these people to get his luggage down. As the people pushed by him to be one step closer to the door, he knew he would never do it. He’d keep his case under the seat, just like Carmella.
At customs, Kyle pulled out his translation phrase book, but put it away when Carmella and the customs agent fell into a friendly conversation. He could tell the custom agent was rather enchanted with the doe eye woman from America that spoke his language so fluently. Their conversation certainly went on longer than Kyle liked. Finally, he leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Problem?”
Carmella looked up and smiled. “No. Amani was telling me where I’d find various government archives.”
Kyle frowned. She might be fluent in languages and pretty as a kitten, but she still had a few things to learn about being undercover, such as not telling government officials that you’re looking for information.
***
Carmella thanked the customs agent and they passed through. She studied Kyle’s face as they made their way down the steps onto the dusty chaotic road. He looked annoyed. Three different cab drivers pulled at her luggage. Kyle reached over and snatched it away from all of them. “I’ll carry the damn thing,” he snapped. “We’ll take the third cab,” he decided, putting their bags into the trunk the driver had just opened.
Carmella followed him into the cab and told the driver their destination. Neither spoke on their ride. When the taxi stopped, Carmella opened the door and grabbed her case from the trunk, leaving Kyle to communicate with the driver. The driver seemed very upset, so Carmella returned and listened.
Kyle looked at her with his head tilted. He had his phrase book open in his hand. “Any clue what he’s saying?”
Carmella smiled. “He says you are a bad tipper and because of this most pitiful tip, his children will not eat today.”
“I gave him twenty dollars,” Kyle protested.
Carmella looked at the meter. “After the taxi fare that would translate roughly to a nineteen-cent tip. He’s right, you’re a lousy tipper.”
Kyle muttered under his breath and handed the man another twenty.
The man’s face went from outrage to joy in a single moment. He vigorously shook Kyle’s hand.
Kyle nodded and retrieved his bag from the trunk.
“He is offering his services as a driver while we are here.”
“Tell him to be back here in two hours to take us to dinner.”
Carmella spoke with the man and waved goodbye. Looking up at Kyle, she smiled. “You now have a friend for life.”
“Well, at least until he finds a better tipper.”
***
Kyle let Carmella handle the communications with the front desk of the hotel. He found it less embarrassing than to struggle with his little phrase book. When they got to their suite, he threw the book on the desk. “That damn book is worthless. I couldn’t understand a word the driver said.”
“That’s because he spoke Sheng rather than Swahili.”
Kyle looked up in surprise. “Exactly how many languages do you speak?”
Carmella entered one of the bedrooms attached to each side of the living space. “I’ll take this bedroom if that’s okay with you.”
Kyle was about to ask her which bedroom he should take but decided his teasing might frighten her. She was right about one thing: he had never spent time with “nice” girls. He wasn’t certain how she would take sexual flirting.
He leaned against the doorframe of her room. “I’m hungry.” Picking up the pamphlets lying on the table he sorted through them. “Let’s go to Fourgian’s Dug Out.”
Carmella raised her eyebrow but didn’t argue. “I don’t suppose we’ll need reservations.”
Kyle scowled. “Do you only eat at places that require reservations?”
“No, but Badruk is going to be disappointed.”
“Who the hell is Badrunk?”
“It’s ‘Badruk’ and he is our driver. He
planned to take us to the best restaurant in town.”
Kyle moved to her bed and stretched across it, watching her unpack her case. He leaned over and pulled a pair of underwear from the case. They were so tiny! Before he could comment, she snatched them from his hand.
“Shouldn’t you be doing your own unpacking?”
He leaned back and stared up at her. “Too much trouble. I just live out of my case.”
“Well, stay out of mine,” she warned him as she gathered all her undergarments and put them in a dresser drawer.
“So what are your plans for tomorrow?”
“First thing I’ve got to do is stop by the consulate and see Mr. Belding. Then I’ll start following the leads wherever they take me.”
“That reminds me. You shouldn’t go asking government officials where their archives are held. It tips them off that you aren’t a normal tourist.”
Carmella put the empty case away and sat down on the edge of her bed. “So that’s why you were pissed off at the airport.”
“Who says I was pissed off?” Kyle sat up.
Carmella smiled. “For a moment I had thought you were just jealous of Amani.”
“The cab driver?”
“No, the customs agent.”
Kyle laughed. “Are you on first name basis with everybody? What was the name of the woman at the front desk?”
“Mia.”
“And the boy who showed us to our suite?”
‘Daudi.”
Kyle smiled and tapped her head with his finger. “Has anyone told you that you’ve a pretty good memory.”
Carmella shrugged and studied her feet as they hung inches above the floor.
Kyle tilted her face up. Leaning over, he placed a kiss gently on her lips.
She moved away so fast she slid off the bed and landed on the floor. She stood up and faced him. “I want you to leave my room now. That was totally uncalled for.”
Kyle was surprised and offended by her reaction. He was known for his seductions. He’d never been rejected in his entire life. And this wasn’t even sex. This was a little touch of the lips. He studied her rigid stance and the slight quiver of her lips. Hell, she wasn’t offended. She was scared.
Slowly he stood and raked his hands through his short curly hair. “Calm down. It didn’t mean anything.”
Her eyes flared in response. “And that is supposed to make me feel better? Try anything like that again, and I’ll report you to your superiors!”
Kyle couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of her telling Winston Black that he had kissed her on the lips. Winston would probably think she meant a different set of lips.
“You think this is funny?”
Kyle tried to stifle his smile. “No, of course not…well truthfully, yes a little. I only kissed you, and it was just a peck of a kiss at that.”
“But why did you kiss me at all? It’s entirely inappropriate work behavior!”
Kyle shook his head. “So that’s what’s wrong. I thought you found me repulsive.”
She swallowed hard. “No.”
“No what?” he asked stepping closer and tilting his head to one side, trying to make contact with her eyes.
She didn’t speak until her eyes connected to his. “I don’t think you’re repulsive.”
“Do you think I’m good looking?” He stepped even closer to her.
She frowned. “You know you’re good looking.”
“Yes. But do you think I’m good looking?”
“I suppose,” she added and broke eye contact. “Still, it didn’t give you the right to kiss me. Our behavior should be above reproach…”
She started to move away but his hand reached out and pulled her back against him. “You seemed to have forgotten a few things. First of all, I’m not in the Bureau. Secondly, we are undercover as a couple on a romantic vacation. It seems to me, that a friendly kiss now and then is entirely within our lines of duty.” Before she could argue, he bent down and kissed her hard on the mouth.
She pushed in resistance for a moment, but then relaxed and returned his kiss. He released her before his passions led him to try and see what else she might allow under the guise of line of duty. He instinctively knew that with Carmella, he would have to take it slow and careful. He smiled at her passion-filled eyes. What a pleasant seduction this was going to be. “Now that wasn’t so painful was it?”
“No,” she replied, trying to regain her composure.
“Shall we try it again?”
She pushed herself away. “No. I don’t think that’s necessary for our cover. After all, there is no one here to observe us.”
He smiled and headed to his room. “Then I’ll let you get dressed for dinner. Fourgians is a bit of a dive, so dress casual with comfortable shoes.”
She looked at him, relieved to have a change of topic. “Why are we going to Fourgians?”
“I’m expecting a package delivery.” He paused. “You do know how to shoot a weapon?”
“What do you think? With my height and size, do you think they would have ever let me in if I hadn’t shown outstanding excellence in all categories?”
Kyle’s eyebrows rose. “So, you shoot, but how well?”
“I ranked first in sniper/marksman training.”
“So why aren’t you a sniper? Size isn’t important there.”
Carmella turned to the dresser and studied the clothes. “You can be the best in every category, but if they don’t want you, you don’t get in. Agent Connors was the only one who would give me a chance.” She turned and looked at Kyle. “That’s why it’s so important I complete my assignment perfectly. My entire focus must be on my job. Even if you aren’t with the Bureau, I can’t afford a dalliance. All it would take is a hint of scandal and I’d be out.”
She was such a contradiction of strength and vulnerability. A part of him wanted to take her into his arms and protect her from the world. He recognized the truth in her words. Scandal would ruin her. Recalling Cole Womack’s encouragements, he realized the bastard planned to do just that. Kyle’s reputation was well known. No one would believe he’d leave such a pretty woman untouched. When she returned from this mission, no matter what, her reputation would be ruined and her career with the Bureau would be over.
He returned to her and took her tiny hands into his own. “You’re right. So, let’s have a truce. I promise I will make no attempts to seduce you.” He smiled at the relief in her face. “I hope you realize that this is going to be a tough assignment, because you are one hell of a desirable woman.”
He turned and left her room before she could respond.
***
Carmella was stunned. Kyle thought she was a desirable woman? She couldn’t help but smile at his words. Imagine that, Carmella Ginkabo is a desirable woman!
Unfortunately, when Carmella told Badruk their destination, he spent several minutes trying to change their minds, but Kyle was firm on his choice.
When they arrived, Carmella understood the concern. Fourgian’s was a poorly lit shack with an abundance of whores and dangerous men scattered about the unlit doorway and street.
Badruk once again asked to take them somewhere else. Kyle tossed him a hundred dollars and had Carmella tell him to cruise by every ten or fifteen minutes until they needed him.
“Nice restaurant,” Carmella murmured. “What’s their specialty, food poisoning?”
“I wouldn’t know. I only drink their imported vodka when I come here. I suggest you do the same. You can’t risk being sick with E.coli in this part of the world.”
Carmella frowned. “I wished you would have told me earlier. I would have eaten something before we came.”
Kyle noticed a few of the men were staring at his doe-eyed companion with intense interest. He placed his arm protectively about her and pulled her close to his side. “Hopefully, we won’t be here very long, and then we can go anywhere Badrunk wants.”
“His name is Badruk.” She tried to push away from Kyle.
“Easy girl, don’t forget your cover.” He leaned his face close to hers. “I wouldn’t want some of these men to think you might be happier with them than me, if you get my drift.”
Carmella’s hands stopped pushing him away as she noticed the leering smiles on some of the men. Instead, she slipped her arms around Kyle’s strong muscular waist.
“That’s better,” he said, enjoying the sensation of her touch. He found a booth in the corner and squeezed in beside her on the same bench.
“We’d have more room if you sat on the other side.”
“That’s true, but I think it’s better if I sit here.”
“Why?”
A man wearing an apron approached their table.
“An unopened bottle of Russian vodka and two glasses,” Kyle ordered.
“No. I want a soda, please,” she declared in Swahili. The man turned and left, without a word.
Kyle looked about the room and then turned his body, so she pressed against his chest instead of his shoulder. He stretched his arm across the back of the bench. “That’s better.” He gave her a most seductive smile.
Carmella scowled. “You were going to tell me why we are both crammed into this side of the table like sardines.”
He leaned over and lightly kissed her lips. “Well, first of all, because I am expecting someone. And if I sit over there, then when he comes, he’ll sit by you, and I thought you might object to being so close to a man who does not practice good hygiene. Secondly, I don’t have to worry about any of those men trying to grab you for a dance if I’m blocking their way. And thirdly,” he added with a smile, “because I find the touch of your body against mine extremely pleasurable.”
“You promised you wouldn’t do that,” she murmured, her eyes falling to her lap.
Kyle lifted her face back up to his. “That’s not a come on. It’s a simple fact.”
The aproned man returned and placed the vodka and two glasses on the table. Kyle handed him a twenty.
“I wanted a soda,” Carmella reminded him in Swahili. The man ignored her and returned to the bar.
“Surely he speaks Swahili or Sheng.”
Kyle laughed. “I’m sure he does. But if you were asking for a diet coke, you’re out of luck. They don’t serve soft drinks in this fine establishment.” He filled her glass with vodka and pushed it towards her. “Drink. It’ll take the edge off your hunger.”
Cat Refuge Page 9
