Black List: HOT Heroes for Hire: Mercenaries: A Black’s Bandits Novel

by Lynn Raye Harris

  “There was a maid?”

  “Yes, of course. She was there to turn down the room. I said that already. But she must have finished and left. The door was definitely locked.”

  “So you say.”

  “I do say. Why would I make it up?”

  “I don’t know. Why would you?”

  “Stop it,” Maddy said. “You’re irritating. And no thanks to you, my shoulder aches.” She shrugged it as she glared at him. She didn’t know why she’d added that bit of information, but he annoyed her so much that she had.

  “I did tell you to stop,” he murmured.

  Heat flared in her belly, spread to her extremities. “Yes, well, did Jerry stop for Tom? Not if he wanted to live.”

  He tilted his head, a confused look on his face.

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s an old cartoon. Tom and Jerry. Tom is a cat and Jerry’s a mouse—look, never mind. Just, no, I wasn’t going to stop because you said so. I don’t know you, and you aren’t the police. Even if you do have a gun,” she finished under her breath.

  “I apologize if I hurt you.”

  She started to tell him it was okay, she was fine. Because that was the polite thing to say and Mimi always told her to be polite—but fuck that. Not this time. She’d been attacked, kidnapped, and now she was on her way somewhere she hadn’t agreed to go. She’d also lost her work computer, her camera, her purse and passport—everything that belonged to her—and this man with the glacial eyes sat there and said he was sorry?

  No.

  “Not accepted, Andrei. If that’s really your name. Which I don’t believe it is. And believe me, when you verify the truth about who I am, I’m going to sue your ass—and that of your employer—into the next century.”

  His eyes widened for a moment. And then he laughed. She didn’t know whether to scream or slap him. She settled for glaring.

  “You’ll find that a bit impossible, Dr. Cole. But if you are who you say you are, you’ll be compensated for your time.”

  “Compensated?” Her voice rose at least two octaves. She sounded like she’d inhaled helium.

  But, really? He’d upended her life, physically assaulted her, and all he could do was laugh and say she’d be compensated? She unbuckled her seatbelt before she realized she was doing it. And then she was on her feet, standing over him, glaring down at him while he gazed up at her with mild interest. He didn’t look intimidated at all. Just… smug.

  Maddy snapped. She hauled off and slapped his face. That handsome, irritating, lying face. He didn’t move, but his gaze hardened to razor sharpness. A hot feeling flared in her breast, threatened to bubble over and erupt in flame if she didn’t find an outlet for it.

  So she slapped him again. He still didn’t move, but those eyes—God, those eyes. Like twin flames of purest blue. She lifted her hand to slap him again, only this time he shot up from the seat and caught her wrist, holding it firmly in his hand. They were inches apart. The heat of him enveloped her. His scent, like steel and spice, stole over her.

  Desire flared in the pit of her belly, sent a throbbing tingle into her pussy. It shocked her.

  Arousal? Now? Over him? She hadn’t gotten any action in so long that she was pretty sure her libido had lost its mind. Because she wasn’t the kind of woman who liked autocratic men. At all.

  And yet her body betrayed her with heat and melting and the desire for more. So much more.

  “That’s enough,” he said. “I think maybe we’re even on the part where we physically assault each other.”

  She curled her hand into a fist but she didn’t try to break free of his grip. “You deserve a lot more than that. But I think I can refrain for now.”

  His gaze dropped to her mouth. She felt those eyes on her lips as if they were a caress. It melted through her like hot wax. She didn’t want to melt. Not for him.

  “I like nice men. You’re not nice.”

  His gaze lifted. That was the moment she realized she’d said the words aloud. Oh hell.

  She didn’t expect him to grin. His face was beautiful when he smiled. Breathtaking, really.

  “I’m nice,” he told her. “You keep looking at me like that, and I’ll be happy to show you how nice I can be. It’s really, really nice, by the way.”

  “Let me go,” she whispered, her heart slamming her ribcage.

  His grip eased though his grin didn’t. She pulled away, rubbing her wrist even though he hadn’t held her tightly at all. She wanted to erase the sizzling on her skin where he’d touched her, but it wasn’t subsiding quickly enough.

  He turned away. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “A very large bourbon on the rocks.” He turned back with an arched eyebrow. “But what I’ll really have is some sparkling water, thank you,” she added.

  “You can have bourbon if you want it. It’s still night time where we came from.”

  She shook her head. “I was joking. Besides, it’s too close to morning for me. I’m not really much of a drinker.”

  She liked the occasional bourbon, and red wine, but she didn’t keep her head very well after the second glass of anything. She got really happy and super talky. Which was why she was careful about what she drank because who needed the embarrassment?

  Andrei snorted as he went over to a cabinet set into the wall and retrieved a small bottle of Perrier. Then he poured a healthy amount of vodka into a glass for himself. He came over and handed her the water. “We’ll have lunch in about an hour. Unless you need something now?”

  “No, I’m fine, thank you.” Were they really back to polite inanities? It seemed so. And yet her insides churned with anger, fear, curiosity—and desire. Couldn’t forget that one. She was going to have a lot of hours to consider how and why she was attracted to this man. Yes, he was majorly fine-looking in his tux, but looks weren’t everything. She knew that from her mother. A beautiful, shallow woman who’d broken her father’s heart when she’d left him for a man with money to burn. Dad had his work, but it hadn’t been enough. Two years after her mother abandoned them, her dad suffered a massive heart attack and died. He’d been on a work trip to Moscow. The next time she’d seen him, he’d been in a coffin.

  Maddy bit back sudden tears. She missed him, and she missed Mimi, who was sinking farther and farther into delusions. She even missed her mother sometimes, but that wasn’t a fruitful relationship so she’d given up trying.

  “You okay?”

  Maddy blinked hard. “I’m fine. Why?”

  Andrei had discarded the tux jacket and untied his tie. He’d rolled his shirt sleeves, revealing tattooed forearms that she wanted to see more of. Judging by the way those sleeves bulged at the top, he had some impressive muscles. Not huge, but solid and defined. Sexy.

  Stop that.

  “You looked upset there for a second.”

  “Duh. I’m here with you, accused of being someone I’m not, and I’m worried about my job. I need it, by the way.”

  “Don’t worry. Your job is safe… so long as you’re really Dr. Cole.”

  She sat down again, crossed her legs, and glared at him. “I am. What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Is Andrei really your name?”

  “It is today.”

  At least he was honest. “Will I ever know your name?”

  “Probably not. When we reach our destination, you’re going to be questioned.” He sat across from her again. Buckled his seat belt and set the vodka on the small table beside him. “If you aren’t who we’re looking for, you’ll be returned to your life. You won’t see me again.”

  “You make it all sound so easy, and yet you’ve upended my life in ways I’m not likely to forget.”

  Andrei picked up the vodka and took a sip, his gaze never leaving hers. “Best if you do, sweetheart. Some things are better left in the dark.”

  The blood beat hot in her temples. “Yes, well I wish you’d stayed in the dark and not crawled out of it.”

&nbs
p; He arched an eyebrow, but that was all. “You would rather be back at Sokolov’s place with a gunman on the loose and the house in chaos? He’s not even there anymore—airlifted out, same as you and me. But maybe when we’re done with you, assuming your story checks out, I can drop you back there. Let you find your own way out with the police looking for suspects and your room so conveniently located to the shooter’s position.”

  She felt herself growing pale and she sipped her water to hide it. But she was pretty sure he saw it anyway. “That’s okay. I’m good.”

  His gaze didn’t waver. “Be glad I crawled out of the dark, lady. Be very glad.”

  They reached Black Defense International’s Maryland headquarters during the late afternoon. They hadn’t needed to stop for fuel because Ian managed to get a KC-135 to service them mid-air. Jace didn’t always know how Ian did what he did, but it certainly made the job better. Safer.

  A limo waited at the private airstrip where they’d landed. Jace and Colt hustled their charge into the car and then they were on their way. It took about fifteen minutes to reach the HQ building. The car entered the darkened garage and stopped. Colt got out and Jace followed. Other BDI personnel had been on the plane, but they’d been careful not to let Dr. Cole—or maybe it was Calypso—see them. Either way this went, the fewer people she could ID, the better.

  Jace held out a hand for her. She pushed it away and climbed to her feet. Then she swayed in her high heels and Jace caught her before she plopped back down on her cute little ass. Her fingers curled into his arms for a second before she released him and stepped back, holding her hands up to ward him off. He watched her carefully, in case she was acting and this was about to turn into an escape attempt.

  “Thank you.”

  “You bet.”

  “So where are we?” she asked as Colt led the way toward the freight elevator that would take them up to BDI’s offices.

  “Maryland.”

  “I know that. I live in Annapolis. But what is this place? It’s not the NSA or the CIA.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  They got into the elevator and Colt pressed the number four button. Five was the command center and operational heart of the group, but four housed the public offices and boardrooms where Ian Black pretended to be nothing more than a security contractor for hire. Colt peeled off to do something of his own once they entered the offices and Jace walked his charge down the hall toward the examining room where Ian had said he would be waiting with a technician.

  “This the room?” Jace asked the man standing outside it.

  “Yes, sir.” His gaze slipped to Jace’s prisoner with interest. Jace started to growl, but the man turned and rapped on the door.

  “Enter,” Ian said from inside.

  The man pulled the door open for them. Jace stood back and motioned for Dr. Cole to precede him. She took a step into the room—and stopped so abruptly that Jace nearly knocked her over. Instead, he gripped her arms and kept them both from stumbling. He could feel the shudder roll through her. She really didn’t like him. Probably a good thing because he could like her more than he should. She was sexy and sweetly appealing. Even if she wasn’t really sweet, she pulled it off like nobody he’d ever met. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and protect her. Which worried him because if she was Calypso, then his instincts were shot to hell.

  “Hello, Dr. Cole,” Ian said, standing up and coming over to offer his hand. “You’re safe here. We just need to swab your clothes for powder residue and your cheek for DNA. Nothing painful or invasive, I promise.”

  Jace let her go, but he could still feel the anger vibrating from her as she faced down the boss man.

  “That’s not acceptable,” she said, sounding as haughty as a princess. “It’s an invasion of my privacy.”

  “I realize that, Dr. Cole. Madeline. May I call you Madeline? I’m Ian.”

  “Is that really your name?”

  “In fact it is.” He glanced at Jace. “But there’s a reason you shouldn’t know everyone’s name. It’s safer that way.”

  “Are you asking for my consent for these tests? Or performing them anyway?”

  Ian spread his hands. Shrugged. “I’d prefer your consent, but it’s not necessary. We need to prove your identity. If you really are Madeline Cole, then you can walk out of here and never see us again.”

  She folded her arms and glared. Jace had to admire her spirit. The lady was overwhelmed and outnumbered and yet she still stood up for herself. Which he’d expect if she were Calypso, so maybe it wasn’t so unusual after all. But that sixth sense of his that always told him when a situation was about to go bad had been throbbing to life in his gut for hours now. Deep down, he suspected this woman wasn’t who they wanted her to be. And if she was who she said she was, then the real Calypso was still out there and this entire mission had been for naught. Not a thought he relished.

  “I don’t need to prove my identity. I know who I am. And I’ve told you who I am. Which you can verify with my employer and my address, driver’s license, credit report—hell, so many ways to verify, so why should I submit to tests?”

  “There’s been an international incident. You are on the list of suspects.” Ian turned and picked up a photo from the folder lying on a nearby table. Turned it face out so she could see it. “Is this you?”

  She looked closer, frowned. “No, it’s not. Wow.”

  Ian turned the photo and looked at it, then back at her. “That’s right, she looks like you. A lot like you. So much so that a facial recognition scan says the two of you are the same person. But this woman is a spy. She’s wanted for murder in at least ten countries. Now you can insist you aren’t her, or you can submit to a cheek swab and powder tests and shut down speculation for good.”

  “I thought you said my submission wasn’t necessary.”

  “It’s not, but I’d like to have it. Makes it easier than holding you down.”

  She took another step closer, peering at the photo he still held up. “That’s not a very good photo. But she looks familiar in a way… So creepy. The shape of her face, her body type—those appear the same. Maybe even her nose. But still, the resemblance between us is physical size and type, not genetics.” Her voice was low, almost as if she were talking to herself. “I see where the confusion lies. Fine, I’ll take your tests. But when you get the results, I want an apology. And I want compensation for the things I had to leave at Mr. Sokolov’s. My equipment, my clothes, my passport.”

  “You’ll get your apology. You will also get your things. I had someone collect them for you.” He looked at his watch. “A few more hours, I expect, and they’ll arrive.”

  She seemed surprised. Jace could have told her that Ian Black was thorough and deliberate, but she wouldn’t have believed him.

  “Now if you’ll come sit over here, Madeline, and allow Ms. Barnes to swab your cheek and clothing, we can get this done and get you on your way.”

  “Dr. Cole,” she corrected, and Jace snorted. Girl was a freaking firecracker. He liked that more than he should. Because as soon as her identity was proven, he’d never see her again. He found he didn’t care for that idea. If he’d met her in a bar somewhere, he’d romance her, bed her a few times, and then be on his way. Far more enjoyable than what was currently happening.

  “Dr. Cole then,” Ian said, shooting Jace a look. Jace shrugged.

  She walked over to the chair where the technician stood and sank onto it like a queen on a throne. Within moments, the samples were bagged and the technician was off to the lab.

  “Andrei will take you to a place where you can wait,” Ian told her.

  Madeline Cole stood and brushed off her clothing, tugging on the ends of her jacket to smooth out any wrinkles. “I need to call the office.”

  “I’m afraid not,” Ian said. “No outside communication until we know the truth.”

  Her eyes could have shot daggers. She lifted her chin and sniffed. “I guess I have no choice. But you’r
e going to regret this when the results come back. I’m suing you for—well, I don’t know what for, but I’ll find out once I call Barrington’s attorneys.”

  “You can try,” Ian told her as he walked to the door. “I predict you won’t get very far.”

  “And I thought you were an asshole,” she said when Ian was gone.

  Jace laughed. “Hazard of the profession.”

  She tilted her head. “What profession is that, exactly?”

  “I could tell you…”

  “But then I’d have to kill you,” she added with an eye roll. “Fine, take me to this waiting area for now. I still expect an apology when the results come back, by the way.”

  “And you’ll get it,” Jace said. He was starting to hope like hell she was Madeline Cole. Because he liked her. He might as well admit it to himself, even if he wouldn’t admit it to her.

  She tossed her hair. It was long and dark gold and glorious. Interest flared in places he’d rather not think about right now. He pushed his reaction down deep and led her to a suite that had a couch, chairs, and a television. There was a connected bathroom, a small fridge with drinks, and snacks in a basket on the counter. One wall was covered by a mirror. She stopped and frowned.

  “Seriously, you plan to observe me in here?”

  Jace raised an eyebrow.

  “The mirror,” she said, flinging her hand toward it. “It’s two-way, isn’t it?”

  He didn’t see any point in lying. “It is. Standard procedure, I’m afraid.”

  She rolled her eyes. “God, you people are really too much.” She went over and flung herself on the couch, grabbed the remote. “I’ll just be sitting here, doing nothing, until you come back and say you’re sorry.”