A Covert Affair

by Katie Reus

  They entered hard, their weapons up as they pushed through the haze of smoke.

  The shouts were nonsensical, mainly just “police” and “run.” A burst of staccato gunfire went off, then ended just as quickly.

  “Gunman down,” Dax said through the comm line.

  As the smoke cleared, Nathan spotted two men hunched over on the floor near a foldout table. Beers and playing cards were scattered over the top. He couldn’t see any civilians, just huge containers backed against one wall. He had a feeling he knew what was in them.

  One of the men clawed at his eyes with one hand and blindly groped at his back for a weapon tucked into his pants.

  Nathan shoved his M4 into the guy’s spine. “Face down, hands above your head!” He retrieved the weapon, shoved it into one of his pockets as he secured the groaning man’s hands and feet into flex cuffs.

  “Got your six,” Freeman said over the comm.

  There were always a few precious seconds when an operator’s back was exposed in situations like this, usually when securing a target. He’d worked with Freeman enough to trust the guy with his life. Hell, they’d almost died together not too long ago.

  “Two targets secured,” he said into his comm after cuffing the next groaning man.

  Less than ten minutes later, the smoke had cleared and a dozen men with ties to a local Russian gang were facedown on the floor in a single line with their hands and feet secured.

  Nathan’s team had found two locked containers of women and children, all in various conditions of shock or terror, though they were all malnourished to an extent.

  And none of them seemed to speak any English.

  His gut tightened as he radioed Burkhart. “Targets all secure and we’re gonna need a Russian translator.” He assumed the women and children were Russian, given some of the phrases, but he couldn’t be certain.

  In that moment, the darkest part of him wanted to line up the men on the floor and execute them all. No one had a right to own or sell another human being. It was one of the most deplorable acts in the world.

  For now he compartmentalized what was going on and kept his game face on. They’d been able to save a lot of people tonight. He’d take the win.

  Very soon, he planned to take the biggest win of all, Amelia’s heart.

  Chapter 19

  Burn phone: prepaid disposable phone.

  “Thanks for walking me out,” Amelia said to Manuel as they left the restaurant. From now on she was going to make sure everyone had an escort when they walked to their vehicle, regardless of the time of day.

  “Of course. I just hope things will settle down.” He glanced around the full parking lot.

  “Neal confessed, so hopefully things will.” That had nothing to do with Tessa’s going missing, but Amelia kept that thought to herself. She paused along a row of vehicles as a BMW with tinted windows turned down the parking aisle they were about to cross.

  Manuel frowned and actually held out a hand in front of her, to protect her. The likely subconscious protective motion was ridiculously sweet, warming her from the inside out. Considering she felt like crap at the moment, it eased some of the stiffness in her shoulders. Not by much, though.

  When the sleek silver car slowed and the window rolled down, she tensed until she saw Collette Mercado behind the wheel. Wearing Fendi sunglasses with amber lenses, the woman smiled widely. “I must have perfect timing. Are you leaving?”

  Amelia nodded before laying a gentle hand on Manuel’s forearm. “You can head back in. My rental’s right there.” She tilted her chin to the next row across from them.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive. I’ll see you tomorrow. Afternoon, though. I’ll be at Amelia’s in the morning.” Amelia’s was short for La Cocina de Amelia.

  He nodded once before heading back through the throng of parked vehicles. She turned and smiled at Collette, even though she was certain the look didn’t meet her eyes. She was too damn tired to paint on a happy face. “How are you?”

  “Good, but I should be asking you that. I’m surprised you’re at work so soon.” Her voice was sincere enough, but something about Collette bothered her. It was subtle, but she had an entitled air that rubbed Amelia the wrong way.

  Or maybe she was just projecting her own insecurities. Amelia had seen her the day before at Mercado’s, but Collette had disappeared after saying hello to them. “Staying active keeps me sane,” she said, lightly laughing. It was the truth. She needed to keep busy, though this had more to do with Nathan than anything else. When he’d come by late last night, she hoped they might be able to work through some of their stuff. Instead she just felt even worse today and they’d resolved nothing. Which wasn’t anyone’s fault. She understood that he’d been called away to work.

  “I understand that. Listen . . . I have a favor to ask and it’s okay if you say no. I took a chance coming to see you today, so I’m hoping it’s fate I ran into you.” She smiled that wide smile again and for a moment it reminded Amelia of a shark. “I, God, this is a little embarrassing, but I’m thinking of investing in a new restaurant. Well, a potential one. I could ask my father, but you’re the expert, so I was hoping you could come look at the property. My friend is actually buying the building and will be starting his own business, but he approached me with a business proposal. It looks solid to me, but . . . I was really hoping you’d check out the area and just give me your general thoughts. I know location matters as much as anything else. I’ll buy you lunch,” Collette added, almost as an afterthought.

  Amelia so didn’t want to do this now. “Is it far from here?”

  She shook her head, hopeful smile in place. “About fifteen minutes away.”

  Amelia wanted to say no. It was on the tip of her tongue, but guilt pushed at her. She’d basically used Mercado—for very good reasons—and since he wasn’t the criminal mastermind Nathan and his team had thought, she couldn’t help the sliver of guilt that wormed its way into her. “Okay, as long as it’s not for too long. I’ve got a lot of paperwork to catch up on.” A total lie, but she’d use work as an excuse any day. “I’ll take a rain check on lunch.” Now she forced a smile out. It wasn’t the woman’s fault she’d been having a crappy week.

  “Thank you.” Collette nodded at the passenger side. “Hop in.”

  Amelia thought about telling Collette she’d just follow her, but she didn’t want to drive even an extra fifteen minutes in Miami traffic. Hell, it would end up being thirty minutes at least, with the return trip. Amelia slid into the smooth seat, somehow not surprised that Collette had classical music playing.

  Collette’s long honey brown hair was down in soft waves. Small gold hoops peeked through her hair when she turned to Amelia. “I can’t thank you enough for this.”

  “No problem. I know how stressful it is to invest in something.” Mainly because she’d invested in herself. She doubted Collette had any clue what it was like to put her heart and soul into something and fear what would happen if she failed. To sacrifice any extras for years just to make ends meet. No, the woman would have a buffer with her father’s money to back her.

  “It really is, especially in such a difficult industry. Oh, I have an extra water bottle if you want.” She tapped one of the bottles in the drink holder between them.

  “Thanks.” Mainly to keep her hands busy, she took it. When she heard the buzz of her cell phone, she pulled it from her purse. As she looked at the screen she said, “What type of restaurant is this going to be?”

  “Asian fusion. . . .” Amelia tuned her out as Collette chatted about the type of decor her friend planned. She felt a little bad, but she really didn’t care and something about Collette bothered her.

  Her heart skipped a beat as she looked at Nathan’s message. You can’t ignore me forever. I want to see you tonight.

  She wasn’t ignoring him. Not exactly. Okay, maybe that was what she’d been doing. She’d been at work, though, so it wasn’t as if she’d had ti
me to talk. But she did now. And no matter what, no matter how hard it might be, she did want to see if they had a shot at something real. She’d never gotten over him, not truly, and he’d clearly never gotten over her. That had to mean something. If he said he couldn’t tell her who he worked for, then she needed to believe that he’d tell her when he could.

  Half listening to Collette, she texted him back. Not ignoring you. Was busy at work. Leaving now, about to run an errand then headed home. Should be there in a couple hours. Come by whenever. Her finger hovered over the keyboard for a moment and then she added another message. I’m not letting you go either.

  At least not without a fight. If he could fight for her, she could for him. They had to be able to make things work. She was too stubborn to believe otherwise. Feeling better, she set her phone on her lap and opened the water bottle. “It all sounds like a really exciting venture,” she said to Collette before taking a sip of the water. Or the bits and pieces she’d heard did. Fusion restaurants tended to be popular because there was often something for everyone. As long as the food was good, the prices were right for the target audience, and the location was decent, in the end it often came down to money management and in-house management.

  It was where so many people failed when running restaurants. She wasn’t about to get into that, though. She took another sip and then set it in one of the cup holders when a wave of dizziness swept through her.

  “I think so.” Collette glanced at her as she pulled up to a stoplight.

  Dang it, maybe she’d been more tired than she thought. Amelia blinked and tried to clear her thoughts as a haziness descended on her. Her phone buzzed again, but she couldn’t find the energy to swipe in her code. “I don’t feel very good.” Were her words slurred? Jeez, what was wrong with her?

  “That’s the whole point,” Collette murmured, glee in her voice.

  Fear jolted through her. Amelia tried to respond, but her eyelids weighed heavily, drooping until she couldn’t force them open. The last thing she thought she heard Collette say was “finally” before darkness engulfed her.

  Amelia struggled to open her eyes, a sense of panic pushing at her chest, but she couldn’t remember why. Where was she? Sheets rustled beneath her as a wave of nausea swept through her.

  Her eyes finally cracked open to fluorescent brightness. She wasn’t at home or at work. The hospital? Had something else happened?

  She took a deep breath, the inhalation of air steadying her. Think, think, think, her mind ordered.

  The last thing she remembered was leaving the restaurant. Then Collette had been there, which seemed odd. She’d wanted Amelia to look at . . . a building for a potential restaurant. She hadn’t wanted to go, but had done so anyway. Stupid guilty feelings . . .

  The water. Shit, shit, shit.

  Realization slammed into Amelia. There had been something in that water bottle. Full-blown fear slid through her, the rush of terror and adrenaline giving her the energy to move.

  She sat up and swung her legs off the bed. The sudden action made her lose her balance and pitch forward onto a linoleum floor. She cried out as her knees slammed into the floor. The jolt of pain grounded her a little more. Everything was wavy and hazy, but she pushed onto all fours.

  Have to get out of here. Have to call Nathan. Those were the main two thoughts she focused on. She looked around the stark room from her position on the floor. There was the bed she’d just fallen off, a mini-fridge, a table. No windows. The room had an antiseptic scent to it. Fresh but also very sterile. Like a hospital.

  She tried to push herself up but couldn’t manage it, so she turned back around and held on to the mattress, using it to stand. On wobbly legs she stood, leaning against the bed to hold herself in place. Before she could think about moving any farther, a door opened.

  A man stepped inside. He was taller than her, but not nearly as tall as Nathan. Likely in his early fifties, he had dark hair and a clean-shaven face. He looked nice. Was he here to help her?

  “Feeling a little shaky?” the man asked, stepping toward her almost cautiously.

  “Yesh.” She slurred the word. Too late she saw something in his hand.

  A syringe.

  She tried to ward him off, but her arms just Kermit-flailed. All her movements were in slow motion while he moved at warp speed. “No.” The word rasped from her as the syringe pierced her upper arm.

  She didn’t even feel the sting, but that haziness was back, sweeping her into darkness once again.

  Out of habit, Sid checked the pistol he had tucked into the back of his pants. He’d been called in for a “friendly check-in” as Collette had put it. Bitch thought she had him on a leash. He nearly snorted to himself as he strode down the hall of the warehouse she’d turned into a covert medical center. Maybe she did have him on a leash, because here he was.

  She was sexy as fuck and ruthless. He wouldn’t ever admit it aloud, but something about her scared him. He could take her in a one-on-one fight, though, so it was the only reason he’d agreed to meet her in her office alone.

  As he strode down the quiet corridor, the only sounds he occasionally heard was weeping from some of the locked-up women. What the hell were they crying about? It wasn’t as if they were being abused. They got the best food and vitamins and got to lie around on their asses for months.

  When he reached the wooden door with no identifying markers, he knocked once.

  “Come in,” Collette called out.

  He stepped inside, fully ready to defend himself, but stopped dead in his tracks. Collette was sitting on the front of her desk, legs spread—and completely naked. He swallowed hard, his gaze traveling down to her bare mound. He already knew she got everything waxed, but it had been months since she let him fuck her.

  “You’ve been a bad boy,” Collette murmured, her voice silky smooth and seductive.

  His dick immediately stood at attention. He knew that tone well, knew what she wanted.

  “Shut the door unless you want to give the doctor a show.” She threw her head back and laughed, loose tendrils of her honey-streaked hair escaping from the messy bun she’d pulled it up into. She had a year-round glow and a perfectly toned body.

  Without taking his eyes off her, he reached behind him and shut the door with a barely audible click. “What are you doing?” She had to be pissed at him. This could be a trap.

  On guard, he turned and locked the door behind him. Maybe she thought she could distract him with sex and let one of the security guys ambush him. No way in hell. He leaned against the door, keeping distance between them. “Why am I here?”

  “You’ve potentially cost me a lot of money.” Her gaze sharpened then.

  Knowing it would piss her off, he lifted one shoulder. “No one will track the bodies back to you.”

  “Still, we’re going to have to stop bringing in any more women until the heat’s passed.”

  Yeah, and he planned to be long gone soon. He hadn’t been willing to split this morning, though. Not when she’d personally called him in. He’d seen one of her guys watching his condo and figured it was a test. She wanted to see how loyal he was. He’d prove his loyalty, or at least give the appearance of it, then run when the time was right. “We’ve already made a big profit. It’s just part of business.”

  Her dark eyes narrowed. “So what? You still cost me money because of your carelessness. Now you get to make it up to me.” She stroked a hand between her legs, slid a finger inside herself before slowly drawing it out. “On your knees,” she ordered.

  Of their own accord, his hips jerked forward. He remembered how tight she was, how they’d screwed for practically weeks on end when they first met. Looking back, he realized that was how she’d recruited him. He’d have worked for her anyway, especially with the money he made, but the sex had been a nice bonus.

  He’d missed fucking someone as free as her. She had absolutely no hang-ups when it came to sex.

  Raging hard, he strode across th
e office and slid between her open thighs. He tugged on her hair, pulling her neck back so she had to look at him.

  Pleasure flashed in her dark eyes. She liked a bite of pain and he was more than willing to deliver. But first, he needed to make sure this wasn’t a trap. “You had someone watching me this morning,” he growled.

  “Yeah, so?”

  He swept a hand out on the desk, shoving the small container of pens and a scissor to the floor. It was the only potential choice of weapons on the desk and he wasn’t taking the chance she’d try to attack him when he went down on her. “I’m not your lapdog.”

  She scored her nails down his chest. “I thought you might try to run.”

  He tugged on her hair once. “Do I have a reason to?”

  “If you want to go, get out. No one’s keeping you here. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t go to the cops.” She shoved lightly at his chest. “Leave if you want. I’ll find someone else to please me,” she murmured.

  He cupped between her legs, shuddered when he found her soaking. “I’ll leave when I’m good and ready.” He yanked on her hair one more time, smiled when she sucked in a sharp breath, then went to his knees. He had no problem tasting her before he bent her over the desk.

  She grabbed on to the back of his head with one hand, her grip tight as he buried his face between her legs.

  “Oh yeah,” she moaned, grinding against him.

  At a soft snicking sound he started to jerk back, but a sharp pain exploded in his skull, and darkness engulfed him.

  “Wipe that goofy grin off your face before we head inside,” Selene murmured.

  Nathan realized he was smiling as they pulled through Lopez’s security gate for the second time in twenty-four hours. “I wasn’t grinning.”

  She snorted. “Please, I recognize that look. I’ve had that look. It’s the Rios woman, right?”

  Nathan cleared his throat, not wanting to talk about him and Amelia. At least not here. Thinking about her as he had to slip on his Miguel persona felt wrong for some reason and he wasn’t certain why. He had erased her last text from his secure phone, not wanting any trace of their messaging on it. He didn’t need to reread it anyway. That message was burned in his brain.