by Gennita Low
Her smile disappeared. And he needed her to help him track whatever it was he was after. So was he just playing her to get what he wanted? Jed McNeil had probably given him a profile of her. She knew Jed well enough to know that he would have warned Hawk not to fully trust any contract agents. After all, Jed knew about some of her riskier dealings, although she was sure he hadn’t yet discovered that she was behind some of the highway hijacks of certain trailers.
One thing was for sure. She couldn’t risk exposing herself just because an attractive man was playing mind games with her. A covert operative was trained in many ways, and if Hawk was one of Jed’s men, he was definitely in the big leagues. She knew about some of Jed’s past adventures. He would definitely be an expert in what Amber had joked with other contract agents as “sexpionage,” those pillow companions who were deadly and so very real in international spy games. She’d had dealings with them before, too.
Amber sighed quietly. Things always got more complicated when feelings were involved. She glanced sideways at Lily, who also seemed deep in thought.
“I think we need a drink when we get back,” she said, trying to lighten their mood.
“Why’s that?”
“We’ve fallen into the dark side. We’re now Wretched Wenches.”
The corners of Lily’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “Oh, please, we can’t allow that to happen.” She smiled. “I do know how to get hold of edible underwear.”
Amber snorted. “I won’t be ordering from any websites or catalogs,” she declared. “And I still maintain he was just joking. He’s like that.”
“He’s like that, huh?” mocked Lily, imitating Amber’s tone. “Wretched, wretched. You’re going to do it. And I will, of course, want all the details. Not that I haven’t seen him naked before…and on top of you….”
“Lily!” Amber made the turn that led to the back street to her place.
Lily laughed. “I swear, Amber, you’re such a prude sometimes. You can still blush after all this time. It must be your missionary background.”
She was right, of course. Her upbringing had been stricter and more conservative than most kids’. But still, it wasn’t the image that was embarrassing Amber. It was the sensation of Hawk on top of her, the secret knowledge of how he had felt intimately. In her fantasies, she had him doing a lot more than just lying there naked. He was…Damn, she would not think about the evil, immoral, absolutely delicious things she had imagined herself doing with Hawk McMillan.
“You like him, go for it,” Lily advised.
“I thought we were going to find out what he’s after, remember?”
“Well, you can do both.”
“I can’t like a person and then turn around and steal from him!”
Lily pursed her lips. “Information isn’t stealing.” She opened her door. “If it’s worth something and we can get more funds, why not? We can add a little time delay so your Hawk can run off with whatever it is.”
Amber got out of the car, pulling her purse from the back seat. “I’ll feel guilty if I like him,” she said quietly.
“Then don’t do it,” Lily said with a quick smile. “Just enjoy it and then move on.”
“Look who’s talking about just enjoying it. Need I remind you that someone should follow her own advice?” Amber raised her brows mockingly.
Lily paused in midstep up the deck stairs. “Shit. I need a drink. I feel…wretched.”
They both laughed. Amber couldn’t help but wondered whether Hawk was all right. She hoped he would call soon. She wasn’t used to this type of worrying.
Later that night, while she was accounting the bills for the day, the phone rang. She had been anxiously waiting for the call.
“The Last Resort,” she answered, leaning forward in her chair in anticipation.
“This is Brad.”
Amber slumped back, swallowing her disappointment. “Oh, hello, Brad, good evening.” She looked at the clock. He usually called earlier if he was coming for dinner. “What’s the matter?”
“How do you know there’s a problem?”
A certain date with a certain someone. But she didn’t say that. “Lucky guess?”
“I think it’s more than that. Is she there?”
“Lily isn’t here right now, although she’ll be back soon. Do you want to leave a message?”
She could hear his sigh. “She isn’t answering her cell phone, and I think it’s on purpose.”
Amber knew Lily had her phone on in case she needed to contact her. “Maybe she left it in her purse and didn’t hear it buzzing,” she said.
“You don’t have to cover for her, Amber,” Brad said. “She’s doing it again. Every time I get too close, she runs off. Last night, I thought I had made a little headway, but I guess it meant nothing to her.”
Brad was definitely frustrated if he was confiding in her about Lily. Those two were as close-mouthed about each other as the Jaws of Life.
“Maybe she just needs time,” Amber said soothingly. “She sees you as a total opposite from her way of life, you know, and is afraid of what that means.”
There was a slight pause. “She detests what I do.”
“I wouldn’t say that, but you two need to talk about this, for sure.” Especially if he intended to be a career bureaucrat. Lily was right in that sense; her shady background was a career-killer. “There’s no getting around the fact that Lily is different from other women.”
“She doesn’t talk much, Amber. Not with me anyway. In fact, the only way to get the woman to respond to me is to…” There was another pause, and then a short bark of laughter. “Never mind. I’m sorry to burden you with these things when there are bigger problems at hand. Can you pass on the message that I’ve set up the interview time and date and that she really needs to contact me so we’re all on the same page?”
“Of course,” Amber replied quietly. “I can do that, Brad. And you know you can talk to me anytime about anything.”
“Thanks. Goodnight.”
Brad hit the red button on his cell phone and slipped it into his pocket. Damn it all to hell. He sounded like a lovelorn schoolboy obsessing about his first crush.
Different from other women. Wasn’t that supposed to be why a man became interested in a woman?
He looked down at the open file on his desk. When he had first met Amber and Lily, he had used his insider contacts to find out more about them. They were, as he had suspected, not what they seemed. He studied the small photograph of Lily in the file. She was different, all right. Obsession, that must be it. Why else would he be so drawn to a woman who was so casual about breaking laws?
Europol Databank had produced quite a bit of Llallana Noretski’s background. She had appeared out of nowhere, it seemed, running into trouble with the law for theft and robbery. She had been a runaway, living off petty crime. She had spent some time with mercenaries before disappearing for a year. When she showed up again, she had remade herself. Officially, she was now an art procurer for small firms throughout Europe. He didn’t doubt that there was something gray going on under that business, but the files hadn’t provided any more information.
Probably blocked or wiped off by certain people. However, Brad could read between the lines. Her working with Amber, who was under contract with the CIA, was enough to show that she wasn’t just an art procurer. Brad traced the outline of her face on the photo.
Yet there was more to Llallana Noretski than being a criminal. She might be funding the escape of those kidnapped girls through illegal means, but at least she was doing something about the problem in her own way. He didn’t approve, but part of him secretly envied her ability to skip the hurdles created by laws meant to protect the innocent, but that had become impediments. In a society where crime ran rampant and there were more criminals than law keepers, bureaucracy was useless.
Brad’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. Which meant that he was fucking useless. Everything was twisted into some kind of warped ju
stice. Lily was Robin Hood, saving the helpless. He was the fucking sheriff of Nottingham, or at least the bureaucracy was, what with so many around him on the take from the KLA. No wonder she looked at him as if he were garbage.
But not last night.
He traced the photograph again. Last night, she had that look again. She had gazed at him with the kind of yearning that made a man think of nothing but the blood pounding between his legs. There hadn’t been contempt in those dark eyes then. Not the moments before he’d kissed her. Not when she unzipped his pants and put her hands inside.
Brad closed his eyes, remembering her touch. It had been years since he had made out on a living room couch, but he didn’t seem to have any control at all when it came to Lily. The moment she had touched his zipper, he was a goner.
He would never be able to sit in that damn living room and simply watch a movie again. Not when he had been lying there as Lily slid off the sofa to settle between his legs, her sweet mouth driving him out of his mind. She hadn’t given him a chance to say anything, her tongue and lips—
“Sweet Jesus,” muttered Brad, feeling himself getting hard again.
He opened his eyes, massaging the area between his brows. What the hell was wrong with him? This was his office and he was thinking about sex. That was the problem. There hadn’t been sex. The woman had taken him to the brink and wanting to be inside her, he had pulled her onto his lap. Had inserted a desperate hand between her legs and found her panties damp. Had pushed the material aside desperately. She had gasped at his touch. He had been quite sure she gasped. He had slid his fingers inside and she had leaned over him with a moan. He had been sure there was a moan, as she clenched and contracted and…before he even knew it, she was off his lap, panic in her eyes as she stumbled and ran off.
By the time he had gotten his wayward penis back into his pants so he could go after her, Lily was gone. All he had left was her scent on his hand.
He hadn’t been able to sleep all night. Had she? What the hell went wrong? Everything had been fine until that moment. She had been soft and needy, wanting him—he knew she had wanted him.
She had driven him wild with her mouth. She had been wet for him and was close to coming herself—he’d felt her starting to come. And then…he shook his head…why did she stop it there, when they had both been so close?
The phone rang, cutting through his thoughts. Brad picked the receiver.
“Sir, that earlier report about a battle has been confirmed as gang warfare. NATO peacekeepers are on the way there. The commander is still waiting for orders, though.”
Brad frowned. “Why?”
“On which side to take out, sir.”
“Both sides,” Brad said. “They are both gangs, right? Bomb them to oblivion.”
“It isn’t that simple, sir. NATO has an agreement with the KLA that they won’t interfere with any local incidents if it’s outside jurisdiction areas.”
“There aren’t any areas not under NATO jurisdiction,” Brad pointed out. But he knew what was coming. NATO, the entity formed by European countries and the United States to defend Europe from the Soviet Union, had no power to attack unless specifically ordered by special sessions. Gang warfare outside the cities and villages technically didn’t fall under the category of defending citizens. When the underling started to explain, Brad cut in, “You don’t have to cite me bylaws and subarticles, Victor. At this late hour, I doubt there’ll be any Orders coming down till morning, and by then, who knows what will be left of the battle? Just make sure you get some information from the peacekeepers who are heading that way. Try to find out who and what’s involved. If it’s an emergency, call my cell or beeper.”
“Yes, sir.”
Brad rang off. He had stayed in the office later than usual because he hadn’t wanted to go home and look at that couch. He put away the file on his desk, picking up the thickest folder in his in-box to take home with him. Lots of work. That ought to banish the image of Llallana Noretski kneeling between his thighs, her hands and lips—Brad let out a colorful expletive between gritted teeth. Frustration didn’t sit well on an empty stomach. He hadn’t wanted dinner for the same reason he had avoided driving home. It was going to be a long night.
Hawk accepted the bottle of beer from the woman whose house Dilaver’s men had invaded. There was fear in her eyes as she served them whatever food and drinks she had. She kept darting worried glances at her kitchen and he had a feeling that someone was hiding back there. He wanted to tell her to stop giving herself away like that, but Dilaver was sitting nearby.
“So what do you think of my loot, Hawk?” Dilaver peeled a banana, nodding curtly at the woman when she offered him a fresh bottle of beer. “I want fresh meat for dinner and not some canned shit. You’d better have something good in that larder, lady.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll get started immediately.” She scurried off, giving another fearful backward glance before disappearing into the kitchen.
Dilaver noisily drank from his bottle. “Well?” He cocked his head at Hawk.
“It’s a lot of weapons,” Hawk said. “I’m still tabulating the cost and profit in my head.”
Dilaver laughed. “I like the way you think. No wonder your boss was unwilling to let me have you as a guide. He knew I’d try to get you away.”
Hawk shrugged. “I’m here on business for him, too. I haven’t agreed to work for you yet.”
“But you see how much money you can make if you take over here.”
Hawk had discovered the reason for the gang war. The mercenaries they had attacked were very close to finding one of Dilaver’s hidden caches of weapons. “The potential’s there,” Hawk said, “but too many people seem to be after your weapons.”
Dilaver frowned. “I don’t know how they found out the location. They were very close,” he said, bringing his thumb and forefinger within an inch of each other, “too damn close.”
“Could there be a leak in your organization?” Hawk asked casually.
Dilaver’s frown deepened. “I have been very careful. I don’t think so, but you never know. The weapons are very valuable on the black market.” He leaned forward. “That’s why I need you, Hawk. You can negotiate for me. Also, with your ties to Stefan, you have access to people like Maximillian Shoggi. If I could get Mad Max’s attention, I’d be swimming in dough.”
Maximillian Shoggi was one of the top international illegal weapons dealers. His influence in the shadowy world of politics and weapons-running was so great that he was constantly invited to elite parties given by powerful people.
“Mad Max? He has tons of the weapons you got, Dilaver.”
Hawk had been briefed on him by his agency and GEM. Mad Max had been responsible for killing a group of covert agents during an ill-fated mission. Since then GEM had been on a two-year operation, slowly applying a chokehold on the weapons dealer’s holdings, until he was now desperate to get his hands on any big item to replenish his coffers. GEM had plans for his future, and had informed the admiral and Hawk that under no circumstances would Dilaver be allowed to deal with Mad Max. That would give him an opportunity out of his hole.
“But I have something else besides the ones you just saw.” Dilaver leaned forward confidentially. “I don’t have enough information yet, but my aunt just informed me that it’s going to be something really big in the market. It’s in one of those hidden shipments that came down while I was gone.”
“Is that why you’re waiting so eagerly for her arrival?” Hawk asked, leaning back against his chair. “She can identify this weapon, right?”
Dilaver nodded. “Yes. So you just wait. It won’t be too long now.”
But Hawk already knew what the weapon was, and that he must get to it before Dilaver and his aunt got hold of it. “I never say no to new weapons,” he said. “I’ll stick around as long as I can. Meanwhile, though, it would help if you take me more on these side trips so I can see what the countryside looks like. As a guide, it’d help
me to identify routes, and if I’m to work with you, that would be a big help in the future.”
“Absolutely,” Dilaver said. He finished his beer with gusto. “I’ll draw some maps for you so you can study them. The shipments were dropped in specific locations close to aid relief areas, so that’s why they are so scattered. Clever, huh? The U.S. government hasn’t even realized they have been used.”
Hawk drank down his beer. Once he had the maps, he would be able to find the targeted dropped shipments. Then he was going to need Amber Hutchens.
The thought of traveling and hiking through the countryside with the woman was both intriguing and worrying. When he had tested her the other night, she had kept up with him, but that was for three hours. What about a week? He had never done anything strenuous with a woman before, so he had no idea…he smiled despite himself…okay, not that kind of strenuous activity.
“And what are you smiling about?”
“I was thinking about the owner of The Last Resort,” Hawk answered truthfully. “Since I might be staying longer, I thought I would get to know her better.”
“Ah, Amber. I knew you would like her. She is, how do you say it…” Dilaver paused, gesturing with his mug, then reverted to English. “Your cup of tea. Right up your trail.”
“Right up your alley,” Hawk corrected.
Dilaver frowned. “Trail, alley, path, same thing,” he said.
“Nuances,” Hawk explained, “are very important in idioms. You know how I mess up Serbian slang and you guys laugh.”
“True, but our idioms make sense. How can a woman being right up your trail mean anything sexy? Bah. Stupid. But back to Amber and her”—Dilaver waggled his eyebrows—“delicious assets. I bet you want to have a taste, huh? Are you going to ask her out?”
Hawk shrugged. He didn’t want to discuss Amber with Dilaver, although he did need to show an interest in her so it would look natural if he went out with her. “If I’m staying longer, yes, it’d be nice to get a bit closer. But you said she has a boyfriend.”
