Lethal Seduction: A CIA Romantic Suspense (CIA Agents Book 1)

by Roxy Sinclaire

  Someone was there. They weren’t alone in the villa.

  He immediately became alert, wide awake, and shifted off the bed, careful not to disturb Jovana. Quickly and as quietly as he could, he closed the doors that led to the bedroom. He found a gun and checked the clip, finding it fully loaded.

  Then he slowly began to creep out of the bedroom. He was naked without a care, having not dressed since Jovana and he had gotten there. He stayed close to the wall, listening closely for any other signs of the intruder, trying to pinpoint where they were, a predator searching for its prey.

  A noise announced him. A hum of the refrigerator, a creak of wood, and there was a squeak of hinges. The kitchen. That’s where he was. He crept through the hallway and made sure to keep himself between whoever was dumb enough to sneak up on him and Jovana. He was keeping her safe. When he managed to get to the kitchen, he found it clear. His prey wasn’t there. Cat and mouse it was then. He kept moving, going to the next room. It was clear, too.

  A creak of wood sounded nearby. His prey was close. He shifted into a lower stance, stalking until he caught the first glimpse of who he was going to kill. They had been foolish in thinking they were safe. How stupid could he be to think that they had won even a bit of freedom?

  He ignored the real danger in favor of dealing with the fucking Russians. He had been thinking with his dick—that was the only explanation he could come up with. He got so caught up in Jovana that he had become careless and was so close to killing them.

  He wasn’t going to let it kill them this time. As soon as he was close enough, he struck. Instead of shooting the man, he thought better. The hard, heavy butt of the gun came down on the back of the skull of the man who had broken through his dream.

  Then he punched him hard in his jaw. Even if he had already knocked him unconscious, he was angry, pissed. He gave the man another few solid punches, shifting from his face to his middle. If he let the anger reign over him, he would likely kill their intruder with his bare hands.

  He didn’t really care until he thought better of it. He got back to himself, shaking off the burning rage in favor of cold fury. Scott made sure to check if the intruder was still alive. He felt a heartbeat. Good, that was enough. He dragged him back to the kitchen. “Jovana,” he shouted, hoping she wasn’t sleeping so hard she wouldn’t hear him. He called for her again. Just to be sure, he made enough noise to wake her.

  He heard quiet footsteps coming his way, and she appeared in the doorway wearing his shirt. “What is it?” Her voice shook like she knew how close they had been to pissing away their lives.

  He clicked on the light to get a better look at just who had snuck into the villa. “We’ve been invaded. I need something to tie him up with. If there’s no rope or tape, bring me the sheets,” he instructed as he began to search him. He pulled every gun he found on him—the one he had been holding, another in a shoulder holster, one at the ankle, and then a sizeable knife that had been clipped to his belt. He was armed to the teeth like any good agent was expected to be.

  Jovana had been quick to do as he told her, surprise evident that they had been found. She probably lived on the same pipe dream he had that they had been safe. He clenched his hand into a fist, trying to fight the urge to punch the man again. He had to learn who he was and who sent him first. Then, after he had all the information they needed, the man could be dealt with.

  He pulled a chair from the kitchen and propped the man up in it, in the process spying his wallet in his pocket. He tugged it out of his pants. He wasn’t going to take his attention off him. When Jovana came back to him, she offered him the sheets she stripped off the bed. Because, of course, there would be no rope or tape in the damn villa.

  She helped him make the effort in securing the man to the chair. They tested it to make sure there was no way he would be getting loose. It was better to be prepared now. “Go get some pants on,” she commanded, a slight edge to her voice.

  “I’m not leaving this man,” he growled. There was the urge to punch him, to attack and be volatile. To be violent. “He came in here to kill us,” he snarled at her. “It’s not safe to leave him unguarded.”

  “Give me your gun,” she said, her eyes locking on his. There was a seriousness in them that made them look hardened. “And go get some clothing on.”

  “Why?” He wanted to argue with her.

  “Because it will be difficult to maintain an air of authority with your business out.” Her face remained hard as she spoke. “If you wish to question him, you will hold his attention on your face and he will see how serious you are. Your lack of dress will leave you vulnerable, and I will not allow him to take advantage of our vulnerability again.”

  He glared at her, not wanting to listen to her reasoning, but he offered her the pistol and stalked back to the bedroom. He found a pair of shorts in his duffle bag and pulled them on, not bothering with a shirt, and stalked back to the man tied to a chair in the kitchen. It didn’t take away from his anger. It didn’t cool him down in the least.

  When he got back into the room, Jovana offered him his pistol back, but he ignored it in favor of picking up the pistol the man had brought in with him. And his wallet. He picked that up and handed it to her. “Look to see who it is. Tell me the name on the ID and anything that might be in there.”

  She did as he asked, going through the wallet. “Walter Andrews,” she murmured, throwing the identification onto the table. “That is his driver’s license. A credit card says Matthew Anderson.” She threw that on the table. “Andrew Carroll.” She pulled out a badge, showing it to him. It was familiar. He had one on him, too.

  “That’s his real name,” he said out loud, moving to sit heavily in the other chair that sat at the table. “He’s CIA.” A sour taste entered his mouth and he looked at the battered face of the man who had come to kill them. “I guess he got us as an assignment when I failed to kill you.”

  “What do we do?” she asked, fear evident in her voice now, that hard edge breaking.

  “I don’t know.” He took a moment to rub his face. He hadn’t been prepared for this. He hadn’t expected to face someone who did the same job he did, not yet. “I don’t know.”

  Chapter 18

  Jovana was caught up in her thoughts as what to do now or where to go from here so she hadn’t realized that the man they had tied to a chair had finally regained consciousness. Her eyes connected with his brown ones. They narrowed and he cast a glance at Scott, who had leveled the borrowed pistol at their captive.

  She tried to struggle with an idea as to what to do with him and where to go from here now that he was awake. The look on Scott’s face said death. But, that wouldn’t get them anywhere. It wouldn’t end this. Where this man died, another would be there to take his place. She bit her lip and looked away, trying to think of a good way to broach the subject. Perhaps the best route would be a line of questions. “Were you here for just me?”

  Brown eyes connected with hers again before turning to look at the weapon that was pointed at his face. He didn’t speak, but he seemed to wait patiently for Scott to decide what to do. It was like he was ready to accept death.

  “You are not going to give me answers?” she asked politely. “I can imagine that I am the true purpose for your being here.” She looked at him, assuming his name was Andrew Carroll as Scott had said. “Are you here to eliminate Scott as well?”

  “He’s not going to answer your questions.” Scott made an angry noise, seeming to lose patience. “He knows better. Giving us information won’t save him and he knows it.”

  The other man nodded, remaining silent.

  “I do not want information. I do not want his detailed knowledge. I know the answer to the first question. I want to know the answer to the second,” she said stubbornly. “Realistically, Scott, how long do you think we can do this? He is here because you abandoned killing me. After you kill him, how many more are there to take his place?” She dug her fingers through her hair, th
en set his pistol on the tabletop. “We are just delaying the inevitable.”

  “Stop,” he said sharply, glaring at her. “We’ll have enough time to get to another place before they realize that this guy is dead,” he started evenly. “You’re not the only target now.”

  She digested that for a moment, realizing its meaning. The fake photo wasn’t bought. That much was obvious when he insisted they keep running. “You are a target now, too?” He nodded, glaring hard at their captive. It made her feel queasy. She had decided she would willingly give herself up for him. But it was obvious he had realized that. “So the plan is just to continue running?”

  “We’ll have a head start by at least a week.” He shrugged as if the idea didn’t bother him. “I doubt he has that many he’s willing to risk just for your head. What do you think, Carroll?”

  The other man actually shrugged. “This is the first I’ve heard of you, man. Really, I don’t know how many of us exist.”

  “It’ll be one fewer after today,” he said lightly to the other man, looking as if he were ready to pull the trigger. “No hard feelings.”

  “Wait,” she said sharply, coming between Scott and Carroll. “Killing him will achieve nothing.”

  “Killing him will give us more time to run,” he argued, looking at her like she had gone mad. “Letting him live will only end up with us both being killed.” He shook his head. “What do you expect? For him to not listen as we plan our escape?” He tried to pull her out of the way, “This is not how things work. If we leave him alive, we have ticking expiration dates. They’ve been there since we tried to fake your death in Denver.”

  “And it will be there even after you kill him and we leave.” Her voice rose as she tried to point out the direness of the situation. “More death doesn’t fix our problem.”

  “What do you expect me to do?”

  “There has to be a better alternative than this,” she said at last. “There has to be a better way than running. How long do you think we can survive on the road?” Her voice lowered and she cupped his cheek. “A year? Five, if we are vigilant? We will not be able to have a family this way. We will not last for years side by side.”

  “I am not giving up,” he said harshly. “I have dreamed of you since I first saw you. Letting you go isn’t the answer either.”

  “Then we need to think of a way out of this,” she told him firmly. “Killing him cannot be the only answer.” She sighed and stepped to him. “You came to kill me twice in my lifetime. Do you not think that there has been enough death surrounding me?” He nodded, closing his eyes as he seemed to struggle with a plan. All the while, Carroll’s eyes burned into her back. “Is there a way to end the contract on me?”

  Scott started to shake his head no then paused, looking at her without really seeing her. An idea had come to him. She could see it in his eyes. “Austin,” he murmured. He pressed the gun in her hand. “Keep it on him, keep an eye on him, and don’t hesitate to shoot him if he looks like he’s getting loose.” With that, he hurried out of the room, leaving her alone with the tied up man.

  She turned to him and put distance between them as she tried to figure what Scott was thinking. “Solid plan,” Carroll said lightly. “Sleep with the man who’s sent to kill you until you have his dick wrapped around your little finger. If I survive this, I’ll be sure not to sleep with a female target.”

  “You assume a lot,” she said lightly as she sat down at the table. “He and I have a history. There was more here than just sex.”

  “I gathered that.” He shrugged a shoulder.

  “It was my best effort to persuade him not to kill you.” She stood and went to ensure the sheet that secured him to the chair was still tight. “Please do not make me have to shoot you.”

  “It doesn’t matter what he does.” He looked at her over a shoulder. “This is only going to end one way.”

  “This is our lives,” she said to him. “You cannot blame us for trying to stop the bloodshed.”

  “I don’t blame you,” he said lightly. “I just doubt it’ll work. You’re not really an idealist, are you? You don’t really think he’ll be able to keep you both safe without killing me, do you?”

  “Probably not,” Scott said as he walked back into the room, phone in hand. “But desperate times do call for desperate measures. There’s really only one way to end this, and that’s by going after the guy with the power.”

  “What?” she asked, going to sit back down at the table. “Who are you calling?”

  “The guy who started it all,” he said as he dialed a number. He put the phone on speaker so that they could all hear the ringing.

  After the third ring, a male voice answered. “Charlie Austin,” he stated in place of a greeting.

  “Austin,” Scott greeted, looking at Carroll with a mix of interest. “Summers reporting in. How’s it going?”

  The man on the phone paused for a beat, seeming to take a moment to digest who was calling. “Summers,” he confirmed. “I didn’t expect to hear from you.”

  “Is it because you sent Andrew Carroll to kill me?” Despite the context of his words, he didn’t sound angry—or look it, for that matter. He had an expression on his face that was neutral and his tone sounded friendly. “That it?”

  There was a chuckle, and she imagined that at one point, the man named Charlie had been a friend to Scott. “Well, yeah. Though I guess since I’m getting this call, Andy failed. It’s a shame. His success rate was on par with yours, and he’s a bit older, more experienced. I figured if anyone stood the chance at killing you, it’d be him.”

  “He made a good effort,” Scott said, leaning against the counter as he considered the man who was tied up. “I’m sure if he had caught me off guard, I wouldn’t be talking to you.” Andy, as he was being called now, gave a nod as if he were accepting a compliment.

  “Damn shame,” Charlie sighed into the phone. “Here I’m down two good agents now. All because of what? A woman? Did you break rule number three? Did you sleep with her?”

  “Never sleep with a target,” Andy reminded, giving Scott a hard look.

  “Fuck me,” Charlie said suddenly, his surprise evident. “You’ve got Andy alive?”

  “Yeah, actually.” Scott seemed to ignore their words. “He’s alive, so you haven’t really lost two agents. Just the one.”

  “Are you calling to give yourself and Borjan up? I would wholeheartedly accept. However, you didn’t have to make the call. Carroll is good with orders. He wouldn’t send me a piece of shit fake picture and expect me to believe it.” Anger started to come through the phone as the other man spoke. “Really, did you think I would buy that?”

  “Had to make an effort. I thought the least it would do would be to buy me time.” He shrugged it off. “Small talk aside, I really didn’t call you to shoot the breeze. I called you with a proposition.”

  “This ends one way, Summers. Borjan is a liability. Letting her go is a mistake and you know it. I may be willing to forgive you a lapse in judgement provided you can complete the mission,” Charlie said evenly, as if they weren’t talking about her death.

  “You, on the other hand—you’re a good agent. You’re prompt and quick, effective. It’s a shame to have to put your name up as a mission. If you do this, I’ll take your name out of the mission log and you can go back to work like none of this happened. I’ll only have to dock the payment for Borjan since I had to send Andy out there to get you to come to your senses.”

  “See,” Scott started with his tone sounding nonchalant and his gaze on her. “I see this going a different way. I have two of your agents here. Agents who work for a department in the CIA that doesn’t really exist as far as the American people know. What do you think they’ll say when they find out their tax dollars are used to kill innocent people? Do you think they’ll condone murder?”

  He didn’t give the other man the chance to reply. “I can’t remember the last time we talked about this shit, but I remember
you saying something about a news anchor you couldn’t stand. What was her name? You got her number? I bet she’d have a field day with the shit I have to say.”

  “That would be a terrible idea,” Charlie said lightly.

  “You’re playing with my life here,” Scott retorted. “Well, not even just my life. Carroll’s and Jovana’s.” He rubbed a hand over his face and seemed to be thinking. “And for what? Information she might still have? Or is it just the principle?”

  “She leaked information,” was his answer. “She had a lapse in judgement, similar to you now, and she leaked classified information. You don’t get to simply walk away from something like that. You don’t work in this department with the information you know or you find out and get to tell other people about it.”

  “I was drugged,” she barked out, feeling the need to defend herself. She had been loyal. She didn’t want to betray her country. “I did not freely give information out.”

  “Your lapse of judgement,” Charlie said. “Though it sounds like you’ve gotten smarter if you’ve figured out a way to keep Summers from killing you.”

  “This is ending here,” Scott cut through. “One of two ways. I can kill Carroll and leave him here for you to find. I’ll contact all the major news outlets and out myself, you, and your department. An investigation will have to be done. I can imagine that the American people will demand that all the dirty laundry get aired out. Do you think they’ll arrest you? Because you’re the one who issued the kill missions. You’re just as guilty as Carroll and I are for doing them. If they don’t arrest you, I don’t imagine that your career in the CIA will go very far after this. What do you think?”