One-Click Buy: February 2010 Harlequin Blaze

by Betina Krahn

  Jackson stopped halfway down the block and turned to her. “Are you okay? You seem nervous.”

  “Nervous?” She repeated his words because she wasn’t sure what to say. As far as he knew she was a seasoned professional, a jaded detective who did this sort of thing all the time. “Of course not. Still a little jet-lagged.” Liar. “I’m trying to determine the best course of action. Deep thoughts and all that.” Shut up. Deep thoughts? What the hell am I saying?

  Eyeing her curiously, he smiled. “Like I said before, it’s probably best to act like we’re together. If you don’t mind, I’ll take the lead. I’ll ask for a couples massage, then we can tag team them.”

  At that her eyes snapped up. Naked? In a room with Jackson? Oh, my. “Sure, I’ll take your lead on this. You know the area and the people better than I do.” Her voice came out as a whisper.

  “It will probably be easier to get information if we have a couple of the girls alone. While we’re getting the massage we’ll try to talk to them.”

  Sounded like a great plan to Mar—one where she didn’t make an idiot of herself by running back to her hotel to hide under the covers. She would never do that, but she’d thought about it more than once throughout the evening.

  There was one big problem in giving up—Stonegate had a one hundred percent success rate on closing cases and she refused to be the one to screw that up.

  No. You will pay attention and help Jackson get the information you need. Pretend. Like theater class, assume the role of the doting wife. I’ll imagine he’s the man of my dreams—okay, that won’t be such a stretch.

  Since he knew the language, Jackson would be doing most of the talking and she could follow along like a good little puppy. No one need ever know she was a terrified neophyte.

  This might work out well after all.

  “Great,” she murmured as they passed through the door into the tacky reception area. Deep red walls overpowered the small space and there were golden statuettes on every available surface. The art on the walls was of nude Asian women pleasuring themselves in a variety of positions. The place was one giant cliché, exactly what she thought of when she imagined a Bangkok massage parlor.

  Mar swallowed hard and concentrated on the old woman behind the high desk.

  “You American?” she said in English.

  “Yes.” Jackson gave her a devastating grin.

  She looked him up and down as if he were a piece of beef for sale. “Prices here.” She pointed up at a board behind her.

  If Mar’s currency exchange rates were right in her head, this would be a cheap night. Couples massage was listed in Thai, French and English, and it was only a hundred. There was a dash and then, EXTRAS $200 American Dollars.

  Mar didn’t want to think about what EXTRAS meant.

  “We want the couples massage. No extras,” Jackson told the woman.

  That last comment caused her to choke, and Mar stifled a cough with her hand.

  “You pay first.” The old woman stuck out her hand.

  Jackson pulled out some bills, making sure to separate a twenty to tip the older woman.

  She winked at him and then pushed a button so that a door to their left opened. “Third door. Green one. You undress then push button by bed. Girls there in a minute.”

  Undress? Mar’s hands trembled and she stuffed them into the pockets of her jeans. As she followed Jackson down the hall, she seriously wondered why she’d thought it a good idea to catch dinner before they began investigating. Her stomach didn’t seem to want to play nice, and it gurgled in a not-so-sexy fashion.

  Taking a deep breath, she moved through the door when he held it open for her.

  This room was a bit more Zen than the entry. There were two massage tables with what looked like clean sheets and blankets. There was a place on the back side of the door to hang clothing. Two candles burned on a shelf with a variety of bottled oils.

  Jackson unbuttoned his shirt and hung it on one of the hooks.

  Mar gasped. The man was beyond gorgeous. Well-defined muscles on his back led down to narrow hips. What intrigued her the most were the scars. She was no expert but more than one looked like it had come from a bullet.

  He glanced back to look at her. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Nudity doesn’t bother me like it does some people. I’ll get undressed and then lay down so you’ll have some privacy.”

  Mar’s hands waved madly of their own volition. “It’s no big deal. We’re professionals doing what it takes to get the job done. And if we get a great massage in the process, who’s complaining?” The words were lame even to her but she couldn’t seem to shut up.

  “So are we expected to strip all the way down?” She turned her back as Jackson unzipped his jeans. “I’m not sure if I should wear my underwear or not. I never am. It’s crazy. I get massages all the time, but I’ve never had the courage to ask.” She kept blathering on, to her own chagrin.

  She heard him move. “I suppose it depends on the client and their level of modesty. Doesn’t bother me. My lower back’s giving me trouble so I’m losing the shorts. Okay, I’m on the table. I’ll keep my head to the wall until you are under the sheets.”

  Mar glanced over at the table and her body trembled with need. The man was nothing short of a god in her book. The sheet barely covered his lower half and she could see the outline of the world’s most perfect butt. He was bronze and beautiful.

  Head in the game. He’s going to think you’re some kind of perv if you keep staring at him like he’s a meal. She forced her fingers to pull the T-shirt she’d been wearing over her head. Then she lost the jeans, bra and finally the pink lacy thong. She’d never once had a massage completely nude. This would be an entirely new experience for her in more ways than one.

  Hurrying, she slid under the cool sheets. “Okay. I’m ready.”

  Jackson turned toward her. “It’s going to be fine, I promise.”

  “I know,” she said. “This is a bit unorthodox. I mean are we going to have to use the services of everyone we interview?”

  Jackson chuckled. “That would be entertaining but time-consuming. No, it’s this place that caters to a certain level of clientele. I have a hunch we may find something out here. Don’t ask me why, but I always follow my hunches.”

  It was a hell of a lot more than what she had to go on. “Well, what’s the worst that can happen? We get a massage. I’ve had worse assignments.” Not really, but she could at least pretend she had.

  “You said it.” There was sadness, and perhaps a touch of deep regret in his voice, which made her look at him more closely. He sounded as if he’d been through hell.

  Jackson pushed the buzzer and Mar took a big breath. This was going to be one to share with the girls back at the office. They’d crack up when they heard that she was naked in a room with a man getting a massage. She could almost hear Katie’s “Yeah, right. You had to get naked with a hot guy, and get a massage—for the job. Why can’t I get those kinds of cases?” Mariska smiled. Yes, her friend would give her a hard time, but if this worked and she found Gladstone, she’d also be proud of her.

  Katie had made it her sole mission to protect Mariska, and to help her through one of the toughest times of her life when her mother had died. But that didn’t keep her best friend from joking with her.

  Mar clasped her hands under her chin. She needed to focus. She didn’t want Jackson to think she was some kind of amateur.

  You are an amateur. Yes, but he doesn’t have to know that.

  She stole one more glance and found him smiling at her.

  “Ready?” he said as the door opened.

  No. She smiled back at him. What in the hell am I doing?

  4

  AS JACKSON WATCHED the masseuse run her hands along Mariska’s spine he had trouble concentrating on what they needed to accomplish here. It’s all about the job. He couldn’t think about her dewy soft skin, and the way Mariska moaned slightly when the woman hit a particular spot between h
er shoulders.

  Did she make that sound during sex? It didn’t help that the room was filled with a spicy sandalwood scent from the candles and the oil. He wondered what it would be like if his hands caused that tiny but extremely effective noise.

  For the life of him, he couldn’t remember why he thought a couples massage was such a great idea. Thanks to her moans it would be a while before he would be able to flip to his backside.

  His purpose upon entering the room had been to chat up the two women working on them, but they refused to talk. It was almost as if they’d been told to keep quiet.

  Mariska turned her head toward him and gave a sweet smile. “Honey, this was such a wonderful idea.” Mariska sighed happily. “I’m so glad your friend Mr. Gladstone recommended it.”

  The tiny woman who’d been running her hands up and down his body had climbed up onto the table and held on to a large wire mounted to the ceiling as she used her feet to do the work of untying the knots in his back. At the mention of Mr. Gladstone, she’d paused.

  “I’ll have to remember to thank him when I see him,” Jackson said. The repetitive footwork began again. “He must be busy with his meeting, since he hasn’t called yet. He was supposed to contact me this morning, but no one has heard from him.”

  “Oh.” Mariska had thrown some worry into her voice. “I hope he’s okay.”

  Jackson shot a glance at the woman working on Mariska and saw that she had a frown on her face, as if she was about to say something but thought better of it. He wondered if she had been the one to give Gladstone his massage.

  “Me, too,” Jackson added. “He was going to suggest a club for us to visit, too. Said it was wild, but I told him we like to step out of our comfort zone when we travel. You know how much I want to play cards while we’re here. I know there has to be some action somewhere, but I have no idea where to look.”

  “Hon, you and your cards. Don’t you think that money would be better spent on shoes?” She giggled, and he laughed along with her. She played the part well.

  “I’m kidding. Maybe someone at the hotel, or maybe even here, will know a place we can go tonight,” she said. “I want to go dancing. After this massage I’ll feel all warm and sexy. Dancing with you would be so perfect. Then we’ll find you a card game. What do you say, honey, are you up for it?”

  Oh, I’m definitely up. Her voice deepened to a sexy soft velvet when she said the words sexy and warm, sending his senses into overdrive. Calm down. She’s only doing her job. Jackson cleared his throat, but before he could answer, the woman working on Mariska chimed in.

  “Best dance club is Phatong,” she said in a singsong voice. “Very sexy. You wear short dress. Not very many married couple go, though. Mostly businessmen looking for women and if you ask right people you can find card—”

  The woman working on his back hissed as if to shush the other one.

  The girl walking on Mariska’s back shrugged. Jackson found the interplay between the two women interesting. He couldn’t tell if the older woman didn’t want the younger one to share information, or if she was concerned for Mariska and him.

  “Oh, that sounds like fun. Thank you,” Mariska said. “We love dancing. Then maybe we can, um, find those people she talked about so you can play cards, honey.” Mariska was definitely getting into their charade.

  From the toe action down his spine Jackson thought the woman walking on top of him might be angry. If she dug into his shoulder one more time, he might have to take her out. It hadn’t completely healed from the beating he’d received from Vlad’s men a few months ago.

  It appeared to him as if Phatong would be the best place to continue their search for Gladstone. He’d seen the club a couple of days ago when he quickly toured the red light district searching for one of his old contacts. Of course, the man was nowhere to be found. It was no coincidence that anyone who could have possibly helped Jackson seemed to have disappeared.

  She jumped off the table and patted his shoulder. “I do front now.” That was her way of ordering him to flip over. Jackson considered it for a moment and realized his thinking about Vlad had rid his mind of all the sexy thoughts from before.

  All he had to do was try and not look at or listen to the sensual Mariska.

  BEFORE THEY HIT THE CLUB, Mariska begged to take a quick shower to get the heavy oils off her skin and to change into something more appropriate for club hopping.

  Jackson followed her to the room. As she turned on the water he tried his best not to think about her soaping herself up as the warm water sprayed the oil off her sexy body. The very idea caused his gut to tighten with pleasure.

  Sitting down at the desk in front of the large expanse of windows, he didn’t have time to take in the view of the city lights. He made a few quick phone calls to the front desk, and to hotel security pretending to be Mariska’s assistant again. Once he had completed his tasks, he did his best to concentrate on the background check on the club.

  Borrowing her laptop, he was able to get the information he needed by doing some quick searches. As he suspected, the club was a front for a busy casino in the red light district, one that wasn’t that well hidden. Jackson hoped they would find some clues about what happened to Gladstone.

  Jackson hadn’t lied about hunches. As soon as the women at the massage parlor mentioned the club, he thought perhaps their quarry might be a gambler. There hadn’t been anything in the file about Gladstone having a penchant for cards, but it would explain the long absence from his hotel. More than likely he’d been on the hunt for a card game, too, and that’s why the younger girl had mentioned it. If she’d been working on the other man, there was a good chance she’d mentioned the same place.

  The club would be a good start, but they might have to hit a few clubs to find their man. Then again, they might get lucky. Though, until he’d run into Mariska earlier, luck hadn’t exactly been on Jackson’s side the last few months.

  On to more important matters. He thanked the stars that Mariska had exactly the software he needed to implement the second part of his plan. Using an untraceable account, he sent an e-mail to Dawson.

  Jackson had no idea if the other agent would even read it, but it was worth a chance. A few weeks ago Dawson said he was looking into what happened to Jackson, and that he’d help find out how he’d been burned, but so far they’d both come up with nothing. One minute his cover was blown, the next he’d been burned. His fist tightened on the keyboard and he forced himself to relax.

  Thanks for the asset. She is something. News? He typed the words using the code he and Dawson had devised, hitting send as the water shut off.

  What he really wanted to ask was, why Mariska? While her laptop and resources would definitely come in handy, there didn’t seem much she could do for him. Well, she was obviously loaded. Maybe Dawson thought he could use the cash. And possibly use spending time with her as a cover. No one would look for a burned CIA agent with a wealthy socialite.

  Jackson picked up the phone and called the front desk to get a car and make some arrangements in case they found their quarry.

  Mariska hummed a sweet tune in the bathroom and it was more than a little distracting. It took everything he had not to offer to dry her off. It had been a long time since his mind had been so full of a woman, probably not since one of his high school crushes.

  He brought up the search engine again, and cleared away any evidence of what he’d been doing before. He didn’t want to risk suspicion.

  When she walked out of the bathroom, she might as well have roundhouse kicked him in the gut. Her long, tan legs were at the bottom of a short black skirt topped with a red halter that looked sexy, but not cheap. Her feet were in sexy heels and it took him a minute to catch his breath.

  She stared at him, scrunching up her nose. “Is everything all right?” Twirling around, she flashed a hand down her outfit. “Do you think it’s too much? I thought it would be best if I looked like arm candy, but do you think I need more makeu
p or something?”

  She said it as if she had no idea how much the total package would be a constant distraction for him. Hell, she’d be a distraction for any man. Mar didn’t seem to have any idea how gorgeous she was, and he found that extremely appealing.

  “No.” He shook his head. “I meant—the outfit is fine. I have some information for you.” He told her about the casino as she searched the dresser drawers for something.

  “There’s one little problem. I’m not exactly flush with cash right now and to get in we’re going to need some to blow on the kind of game we want,” Jackson admitted. He did have a stash, but he had no idea how long it would have to last him.

  She pulled out a purse from the dresser and put a lipstick and some other things inside. “Oh, that’s no problem. I brought some extra cash.” She pursed her lips as she walked toward him and he forced himself to stand still, instead of leaning forward and kissing the plum-colored softness before him. “Do you think twenty thousand will be enough? I can get more if we need it.”

  The thousand-dollar-a-night suite was his first clue that she had money, but who traveled with that much cash?

  “That should get us into the good tables,” he said, choking back a laugh.

  “Cool.” She looked down at her outfit again, pulling at a thread. “Um, I don’t exactly have anywhere to carry that much, so maybe you better hold on to it.”

  He realized how much she trusted him and a small pit of guilt opened up in Jackson’s gut. He didn’t deserve it, and when she found out, if she found out, who he really was she would hate him for eternity. But for now, he’d help her with her job, and do his best to keep her happy. If he helped her solve her case, there was a great chance she’d feel indebted to him. That might come in handy over the next week or so.

  She seemed confident in her skin, but unaware of her beauty. Then there was her job. When it came down to tracking Gladstone, she really did seem clueless. It didn’t add up.

  As they entered the lobby, he couldn’t resist asking. “Do you always travel with that much cash?”