Ransom

by Belle Ami

  “What happened today is a warning to both of us.” She took a deep drink, avoiding the directness of his gaze. She felt guilt at the change in the direction of her feelings. Mustafa was her mark, yet she was succumbing to an overpowering attraction to him. If she went by the manual, she’d recuse herself from her investigation of him. Emotional involvement was strictly verboten. She needed to keep her promise to her murdered twin brother Jacob in mind. She needed to stay focused on her life’s purpose of stopping terrorists from killing and destroying lives. The terrorist who had worn a suicide vest and blew himself up was little different than the man courting her. By stopping Mustafa from launching an EMP attack, she was staying true to her promise. But sometimes he said things that gave her pause. Things that made her rethink her life and actions. Had she reached the fork in the road and taken the wrong path? Had she gone left when she should have gone right? Was the direction of her life leading to a dead end?

  “You should go.” She stood and cleared the dishes from the table and walked to the sink. With her back to Mustafa, she regained her determination to resist her attraction to him. Cleaning the dishes gave her a moment to regain control. She hoped the warm soapy water might even cleanse her desire for him. She scrubbed the plates much harder than necessary.

  When his strong hands encircled her waist, she sucked in her breath. He pressed his body against her, and she could feel him trembling. The warmth of his breath filled her ear, “Don’t fight what we’re both feeling, habibi. Don’t send me away. There is an old saying that when you save a life, that life belongs to you forever. It becomes your responsibility. You belong to me.”

  He turned her around and before she could protest his lips pressed on hers. The passion of his kiss invaded her and all of her protestations dissolved in an instant. Her wet hands rested on his back, and she returned his kiss. He pressed her body against the sink, and she felt the tautness of his muscles and the power of his desire. She knew if she didn’t push him away now, she’d never push him away. Damnit. She was falling down the rabbit hole.

  They broke apart gasping. Confusion and fire burned in his gaze like twin emotions. No matter what they’d said before, she didn’t expect such an intense reaction to a kiss, and judging from his face neither had he. Then without a word he picked her up in his arms and kissed her breathless again. “Which way to your bed?”

  “Through the living room.” She hardly recognized the desire in her voice. She was failing miserably at resisting him. At this moment she wanted him, and she couldn’t think beyond her desire.

  He strode toward the back of the house, through the beads and tinkling bells that chimed as they passed through. He laid her on the silken coverlet. He undressed before her, his eyes never leaving hers until he stood naked. He was hard, and his shaft rose solidly from his groin. Everything about him turned her on, but the softness in his eyes touched on something deeper, something missing from her life. In her life, there was no space for companionship or love, but somehow Mustafa, of all the men in the world, made her question her decision.

  She knew he was treading unchartered seas by the rise and fall of his chest, the way his breath came unevenly. His excitement infected her. She wondered if he could hear her own heart thumping in her chest like a kettle drum. He approached hesitantly as if any minute she might change her mind and order him away.

  He lay beside her not quite touching her. He confessed, “I’m a novice at this. My wife is the only woman I ever….I never pleased her. Truth is neither of us felt any desire for each other. I tried to convince myself it wasn’t important, but now I know it is more important than anything.” He cupped her face and gently kissed her. Delving into her, he explored her mouth. “Do you understand, how sensual your kiss is to me? When we kiss a whole new world opens to me, a world I’ve never known? It’s a longing—achingly sweet—a yearning to know more.”

  “Why didn’t you seek your pleasure sooner, from other women?”

  “I listened to others speak of their conquests, but the sordidness of their boasts were unappealing to me. I wasn’t looking for sexual release. When I saw you, I could no longer ignore what was missing in my life.”

  “Coup de foudre.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “Love at first sight.”

  He kissed her and pulled her close. “Yes, I think you’re right.” He took his time exploring her neck and ears. She couldn’t help but be charmed by the way he patiently waited for her encouragement. She placed her palm against his heart and could feel his accelerated heartbeat. She ran her hands over his arms and his chest. His body was chiseled, the muscles tightened beneath the delicacy of her touch. He’s probably lived in training camps much of his life. The pleasure in his eyes was spellbinding, but she remained detached enough to realize his passion for her might lead to her control of him. “Don’t you want to take my clothes off, mon amour?”

  He smiled. “More than anything, habibi. Please don’t think this foolish, but I’ve never undressed a woman before.”

  “Don’t you think it’s time you learned?” She laughed. “You didn’t have any trouble removing your clothing.”

  “That I know how to do.” His laughter came from the deepest part of him and it traveled through her settling in her heart.

  Her suit jacket was already off, but she still had on a sheer white silk blouse and pants. “Here give me your hand.” She placed it over her breast, holding his gaze. “Do you want to kiss my breasts?” He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

  She sat up and unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged it off. Mustafa’s gaze fixed on her lacy white bra. She slipped her pants off leaving on her matching lace underwear. It was like leading a horse to water. His eyes burned with fire, but he didn’t move. She cupped his face and drew it to her breast. His tongue brushed her nipple, protruding through the lace. “Do you like seeing a woman in pretty lingerie?”

  “Very much.” He slipped her bra straps off her shoulders and pulled the bra down to her waist freeing her breasts.

  His breath caught. “Your breasts are beautiful. The loveliest I’ve ever seen.”

  “You haven’t seen too many from what I’ve gathered.”

  “I don’t need to.” He suckled her nipples, his tongue swirling. She arched into his mouth, a deep moan resonating from her core. “Keep going,” she whispered, raking her fingers through his hair. He squeezed her breasts together, his mouth sucking each nipple, his tongue grazing from one to the other. Not letting go he kissed his way down her stomach. When he reached her lace panties, he buried his tongue and nose in her, inhaling her scent. “Oh…your body is Heaven on Earth.” He pinched her nipples and pulled her panties down and ran his tongue up and down her slit. And then he was sucking her as if she were a piece of candy. She couldn’t keep the moan from escaping, and her hips rose for more.

  He murmured, looking up to see her response. “I love kissing you here.” His fingers slid up and down her opening. “It’s like kissing the petals of a flower. Tell me what to do to give you more pleasure.” He stuck his finger inside of her, opening her, and flicked his tongue over her clit.

  She could barely speak. “You’re doing fine. Don’t stop. Go with your desire.”

  “I desire to fill you with this.” He stroked his cock. “I want you so much I ache. It’s painful this need for you. You do want me, don’t you?”

  She playfully slapped him on the side of his head. “You don’t need my permission? You need to take control before I change my mind.”

  She watched the fire ignite in his eyes and teased. “Or don’t you like being in control?” She reached down and stroked him. He closed his eyes and sucked in his breath. Teasing him aroused her. She let go of his cock knowing he couldn’t take much more. “Make love to me. Let me feel your desire.” She turned to her side and pushed her ass against his hardness.

  “Mmm…I’ve never done it like this.”

  “You’re going to love it.” She reached back and ran
her hand over him pulling him toward her. She stroked and rubbed his thickness against her wetness. He grabbed her waist and thrust into her with a growl. He finally understood what she wanted. “Oh…mon amour…” She sighed. He was strong and hard and her pleasure mounted with each penetration.

  “Zara…habibi…” His moans echoed in her ear like the hot Sirocco wind across the Sahara desert, “…you’re mine, my love.” He pounded against her, his breath ragged with his exertion.

  When she exploded, it was as if the stars fell from the heavens raining down around them, burning everything in their wake. He followed her like the tail of a comet, his lips pressed to her neck, growling her name in orgasm. If anything he held her tighter and closer than any man had ever before. As if by the press of his body against her they could merge into one forever.

  She wanted to resist him, to not feel any emotional ties to him, but a battle raged within her. Why of all the men who she’d ever known did she feel for him? Resting in his arms she realized none of her lovers had ever said they loved her, but Mustafa had, and for some reason, she believed him. Well, she could deal with misplaced belief and wrest back control. All she needed to do was stir up her hatred of those who terrorized the innocent, and in so doing she’d find a way to hate him. Luxuriating in his embrace, she knew there was nothing wrong with feeling sexually satiated and adored. Could she change him? For a heartbeat, she entertained the notion. Don’t be a fool. He’s groomed for only one purpose, to kill, but no matter how she repeated the truth in her mind, a trace of hope took root.

  He was kissing her neck and collarbone. “All I want is to begin again, to love you every way imaginable, Zara. Can you understand that you’ve altered my world forever?”

  I wish I could believe you. “Have I? Don’t make promises in the heat of passion. You will never keep them.”

  He pulled out of her and rolled her over to face him. Strong arms encircled her, forcing her to look into his eyes. “You’re wrong, Zara. Yes, this is a passion I’m not willing to let go. Yes, I’m willing to risk everything I’ve ever believed in for you. Yes, I’ll do anything to keep you safe. Yes, I’ve had you, and yes, I still want you. If anything, much more than before.”

  Why is this happening? “Why?”

  “Must we go through this again? I accept what God gives me in this life. I do not fight what comes natural. What I feel for you comes naturally to me. I have no reason to question why.”

  She sighed. “I’m willing to give you time to prove what you’re claiming, and I’m willing to admit I want to believe you.” You have him just where you need him to be. He’ll lead you to the missiles. She cupped his face. “When do you leave Beirut again?”

  “I’m not sure. There are a few more things I need to take care of here.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m going to leave soon, but I’d like to see you for dinner. Since we missed lunch, I owe you a dinner.”

  “You owe me nothing, Mustafa. I need to get to the office to finish up some work, but I could meet you for a late supper.”

  “Perfect. Everything about you is perfect.”

  She laughed and rolled on top of him. “But first…”

  Chapter Twelve

  Beirut, Lebanon

  After Mustafa left, Zara went to the small office she shared with her photographer. She’d tried to reach Faiz all afternoon with no success. He hadn’t checked in with her, which he normally did. Faiz was unfailingly punctual. She couldn’t imagine what could be holding him up. The man was meticulous about his work, whether it was his photography or his protection of her. Since she’d become entangled with Mustafa, she’d insisted Faiz keep a low profile. She didn’t want to arouse Mustafa’s suspicion about her relationship with Faiz.

  The satellite phone, the one linked to Aryeh alone, vibrated on her desk.

  She blew out a breath of relief. Apart from everything going on with Mustafa, she’d been crazed with worry for Aryeh. “You certainly have taken your sweet time, mon cheri, in making contact. I’ve been worried about you. Not so much your safety as you hold the diamonds and they’ll do anything to get those.”

  “He knows.”

  “Who knows what?”

  “Your cover is blown. Nasrallah, the whole fucking organization, knows you’re a French agent.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “Do you know where Faiz is?”

  “What do you know, goddammit?”

  “Faiz was picked-up. Hezbollah is holding him. They’re going to make a deal with you, just like the one they made with me.”

  Bile rose in her throat. The thought of Faiz held captive by those monsters made her sick to her stomach. “You know I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Faiz and Gideon safe. But what kind of deal are we talking about?”

  “Listen carefully, Zara, you’re going to agree to everything just like I did. Faiz’s life depends on it, as does Gideon’s. You’ll be agreeing to work for Hezbollah as a mole. Of course, this is only temporary. Once we destroy the missiles, it will all be over. Our message will ring loud and clear and put the fear of God in these animals. You’ll be able to return to France. Regardless, your work in Lebanon is finished.”

  “Merde! Does Mustafa know?”

  “I don’t know if Mustafa knows. My guess is he knows they suspect you of being an agent.”

  “They tried to kill me today. Mustafa saved my life.”

  “Shit! But it makes sense. They’re worried you might interfere in the operation, which means Mustafa is up to his ears. It’s only going to get more dangerous for you. I hate to say it, but maybe you shouldn’t continue to see him.”

  “Not a possibility. He’s caught in my web. He’s mine.”

  “Zara, you can’t trust him. He’s playing you.”

  “No, Aryeh. There are things beyond being an agent, things I know as a woman. He’s hooked, and he won’t harm me.”

  “Zara, do you hear yourself? Have you lost your mind?”

  “He has this exaggerated belief that because he saved my life, he’s now responsible for it. I’ll feed into his trust and bring out his male instinct to protect. It’s the only way we’re going to find out where they’re building the rockets.”

  “I’m warning you he can’t be trusted. He’s a terrorist. Right now his cock is muddling his mind, but he will sober, and you’ll be the first thing he sacrifices.”

  “Stop acting like a jealous lover and start acting like the spy who’ll do anything to protect his homeland and the world. I can handle Mustafa.”

  She waited. She knew Aryeh was analyzing and mining the possibilities, the pros and cons of her relationship with Mustafa. “You’re right, Zara. I’m not thinking straight. You’re a pro, and if he believes your life is in danger, he’ll keep you close. You’re our best chance of figuring out where the hell they’re building these weapons of mass destruction.”

  “Now you’re thinking like the king of the jungle.”

  “I’ll talk to Cyrus. There’s some new tracking technology our scientists have developed. I used it when I went to see Gideon.”

  “Fine. I’m open to tracking technology if it’s safe. I’m meeting Mustafa for dinner. When do you think I’ll hear from Nasrallah?”

  “Soon I imagine. But I’m worried about another possible assassination attempt on you.”

  “I have a feeling Mustafa is ensuring my safety even as we speak.”

  “Be careful, Zara. He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

  It angered her, Aryeh was allowing his personal feelings to intervene. But then again, you’re the one fighting an insane attraction to a terrorist. “I’m not Little Red Riding Hood, Aryeh. I’m highly experienced at unmasking men with razor-sharp teeth. À demain, mon ami.”

  “Speak to you tomorrow after your big date. À la prochaine, mon cherie.”

  »»•««

  Hamra, Beirut

  Clouds of steam enveloped Cyrus when he opened the door at the Al bakawat Turkish steam bath. He was fairly cert
ain Elon was at this minute laughing his head off with Ash back at the safe house, the two of them trying to picture the covert meeting between Aryeh and himself, naked except for towels.

  Elon had taken Cyrus’s jest of meeting Aryeh in a steam room and made it happen. The team nerd had torn a page out of Ian Fleming’s famous spy novels and arranged for Aryeh and him to meet in the most public of non-public places. Wearing nothing but a towel and rubber slippers, Cyrus didn’t feel like the master spy, 007, what he felt was naked, unarmed, and vulnerable. He swore he would read the riot act to Elon when he got back to the safe house.

  It was the dinner hour and fortunately the baths weren’t busy. He’d worn his disguise of brown contact lenses and a beard, which he hoped would stay glued to his face given the heat and moisture. He carried his cell phone. If the billowing clouds of liquid heat or the sweat pouring down his body didn’t cause his phone to malfunction or his beard to take flight, it would be a miracle.

  Squinting through clouds of steam Cyrus saw one man sitting on a white-tiled step. The man was bent forward a towel draped over his head, his elbows resting on his knees. Cyrus could just make out the man’s thick, muscular calves, triggering a memory of a man with spiked blond hair, Bermuda shorts, and a Hawaiian shirt. He’d met Aryeh for lunch at Edna, a Persian restaurant in Ramat Hasharon. It was hard to believe only five months ago he faced the worst time of his life. He was devastated, believing Layla had been killed when a restaurant had been blown up in Manhattan. He’d wanted to join Aryeh’s team and take vengeance against the terrorists. Aryeh had refused him then. But now he’d come full circle and was leading the same team. He sat next to Aryeh on the step. “I’m going to kill Elon if my cell phone melts.”

  Aryeh removed the towel from his head and grinned. “Relax. How often do you get to shed a few pounds without busting your balls?”

  “I’ll keep my pounds thank you.” He squinted through the steam, thinking about the positives of meeting in what felt like Hell’s kitchen. No one could keep video cameras or recording devices in working order under these conditions. “I’ve pulled Nira and Yitz off the North Korean scientists at the hotel. I believe Hezbollah has staged a diversion to throw us off. We’ve wired their rooms and phones. We can continue to monitor them, but I think we’re being played.”