by Mary Buckham
“Give me some credit.” She tried to step back but his hand anchored her in place. “Maybe others are already in their rooms.”
“Possibly, but Alex’s last contact noted little traffic in and out, except for the staff, until the last hour. I’d say our host would want most of his bidders to see the other bidders.”
“Up the ante?”
“That’d be my guess. Did your friend indicate when the auction would take place?”
Was there emphasis on the word friend? What was Stone’s game here—professional or personal? And why were the lines blurring?
“You heard everything I heard.” Her words sounded hoarse.
“I didn’t know if you’d had other contact with him. It’d be easy enough to lose track of loyalties in your situation.”
She couldn’t believe he was really saying that. This time, she shrugged off his nearness and stepped away, not far enough to cause anyone else to notice but enough to give her breathing room. “You think I’d tip off Blade as to why we’re here?”
“You yourself said he was a compelling man. Money, power, looks. Besides, you owe him. Your words, not mine.”
“Give me a break.”
“We’re a team here.”
“And teams are supposed to trust each other.” His own words thrust back at him. For love of money, the man was dense.
He was saved from responding by the arrival of a rotund man who could have passed for a Santa impersonator.
“Seamus O’Reilly.” The man spoke with the lilt of an Irish tenor. “County Tyrone. I don’t believe we’ve met.”
Vaughn extended her hand as the newcomer could grow old and die before Stone made a move. “Good morning, I’m Vaughn and this is my husband.” The word jammed in her throat. “M.T.”
“Marcos,” Stone clarified.
“Aye, and would that be the Marcos Stone involved in that little incident in the Moluccas about ten years ago?”
“Could be.”
Vaughn kept her smile frozen in place as the Irishman sized up Stone before grinning. “That was a nice piece of work. Too bad what happened to the buyers later.”
“Yeah. Too bad,” came Stone’s wooden reply.
Rock man to the fore.
“I see.” Santa Seamus didn’t look put off in the least as he turned to Vaughn. “Glad to see a pretty face among this lot. Golumokoff seems to have forgotten a few of the finer things in life with this here setup.”
“So you’ve been to Blade’s auctions before?” Vaughn asked.
“Heard about them,” came the cagey reply. “The items haven’t interested me much in the past, if you know what I mean.” He winked at Stone, man to man.
“Not sure I do.” Stone’s deadpan response did serve a purpose. Once rude, one could remain rude. Too bad her background hadn’t included such training. She could do snubs, slights and disdain—but not rude.
“Ah, so you’re in the dark, too, as far as the details.”
“Somewhat.”
Their new best buddy edged closer. “I’ll tell you my news if you tell me yours.” He laughed roundly at his own wit. “If you know what I mean.”
“Why don’t you tell first?”
She had to give Stone credit. He was a pro at holding the upper hand.
The Irishman grinned and nodded. “Fair enough. Though I only know one word.” He leaned in closer, waving Vaughn and Stone toward him. “Weaponry.”
“Weaponry?” Vaughn glanced at Stone, who gave nothing away. As usual.
This was news. Bad news. Blade, what are you doing?
“Surprised you, did I now?” The man’s smile widened. “It’s your turn. Fair is fair.”
Vaughn waited for Stone to take the lead, this time.
He looked only at O’Reilly before saying, “Big.”
“Big? What kind of information is that? Big.”
Vaughn found it a challenge to keep a straight face.
“That’s all I have, friend. Big.”
The Irishman looked disgusted. “As in size? Or potential? What?”
“Don’t know. Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
The other man shook his head and ambled off muttering, “Big.”
“You’d make a poor diplomat.” Vaughn kept her gaze averted.
“Thought I did just fine. Revealed nothing, learned something new.”
“A big ugly something.”
“Did you think we were going to find out good news about your friend, princess?” His look darkened, became more intense, if that were possible. “You still want to believe he’s simply a misunderstood soul who’s trying his best in an impossible world.”
“Back off, Stone.” She’d thought they’d moved beyond this, but for some reason Stone had a burr up his backside and he was taking it out on her. Not teamwork by her definition of the word. “I’m going to the room.”
She didn’t wait for a reply. When she reached the elegant accommodations, she barely looked at the rich hand-knotted rugs, teak furniture and jamewar-draped bed coverings, but went directly to the balcony offering a vista of Himalayas all around.
“Alex?” She activated the communicator hidden in her watch. “Can you copy?”
She waited a moment before trying again, not unclenching shoulders until the telltale static indicated a reply.
“Jayleen here. What’s up?”
Not the comfy support person she’d hoped for.
“You on a secure channel?”
Vaughn listened to a click or two before Jayleen’s voice returned. “All our friends are off. What’s up?”
“We’ve heard the item may involve weaponry.”
“What kind?”
Give us a break, we just arrived.
Vaughn bit her tongue before replying. “No other details. Other players include mainland Chinese, Taiwanese and an IRA connection.”
Jayleen whistled before asking, “You have specific names?”
No. Vaughn had come here expecting to talk to Alex, a little pick-me-up connection, not to give a full-scale report. But she wasn’t about to tell Jayleen that.
“We’ll have a longer report this evening. Just wanted to give a heads-up.”
“Makes sense,” came the cryptic response.
“What makes sense?”
“Your card today.”
Oh crap, not this again. First the poor woman facing piercing swords, then death. How much more fun could Jayleen whip up for Vaughn with her bloody tarot cards? There was only one way to nip this nonsense in the bud.
“Out for now—”
“Wait.” Jayleen’s voice sounded desperate.
Vaughn sucked in a lungful of pine-scented air. “You’re going to make me listen whether I want to or not.”
“For your own good, girl.”
Yeah, right, and if she believed that she’d believe she and Stone were a well-oiled team. “Spit it out, I don’t have much time.”
“The grail. Reversed.”
As if that meant something? Maybe Vaughn could slide by with having just listened. “Thanks, Jayleen, gotta go—”
“The grail is about a quest, the energy and desire that each of us chases.”
That didn’t sound too bad.
Jayleen’s voice continued, “Reversed, it means confused priorities. Obsession.”
She should have cut this conversation short.
“Fine. Duly noted.”
“You watch yourself, Vaughn.”
Great, watch for Blade to auction who knew what, watch the mission shift and change, watch Stone not quite trusting her and now she had to watch herself.
“Over and out.”
She ended the transmission on Jayleen’s sputter. Served the woman right, stirring up trouble when Vaughn needed her focus to be clear and single-minded.
The transmitter on her wrist buzzed. Clicking the incoming line open came as an automatic response.
“Vaughn?” It was Jayleen, but not pissed like Vaughn expected. Cool maybe,
but not bitch-slapping pissed. Yet.
“Yes?”
“They found the second agent this morning.”
“And?”
“This one had been tortured before being put out of his misery.”
“Got it.” What more could she say? She was heart-sick at the news.
This time Jayleen severed the connection.
Vaughn stood on the balcony for a few moments, deeply inhaling the cool mountain air when she heard Stone arrive. He’d have to be told, but she hesitated. Self-preservation, no doubt. No point in handing him more ammunition to oust her from the mission at this time. Twenty-four hours and they’d have the answers they’d come for. She hoped.
He said nothing as he joined her, standing just behind her, looking out over the peaks. He stood so close the give and take of his breathing whispered across her, the warmth of his skin seeped into her.
“I was out of line back there.”
It was the last thing she had expected from him.
She made to turn, but his hands on her shoulders stopped her. She should have protested but didn’t. Why?
“You were right.” His words brushed against her. “I should have trusted you a little more.”
“Could you repeat that?”
“Don’t push it, princess.”
She couldn’t help but grin. She really couldn’t, in spite of the fact his hands dropped. Too bad the tension remained wire tight between them.
“So what now, Kemo Sabe?” Keep it light. Keep it professional.
“We found one clue. Time to find more.” He hesitated, as if meaning to say more but catching himself.
“Divide and conquer?” she asked.
“Just stay out of trouble.”
“I always do.”
“I’m not as gullible as your Russian boyfriend.”
“True.” She turned then, still surprised how good his earlier words had sounded. “Any advice on approach?”
“It’d be smarter to ask fewer questions up front,” he said, treating her like a true teammate for once. “Get a feel for the people and the place before we start pushing too deep.”
“How much time do you think we have?”
“Not much, but I do know one thing.”
“And that is?”
“If Golumokoff’s weaponry is on site, it’s not very large.”
“Is this good news?”
“Not necessarily. But there’s no point in spending too much time speculating. Let’s start asking a few well chosen questions.”
“Fine.”
“And princess.”
“Yeah?”
“Stay safe.”
He hesitated again, but offered nothing more.
She’d tell him about the second MI6 agent later, hopefully offsetting the bad news with some other good news about exactly what Blade was involved in.
It was hours later when Vaughn had to admit to herself just how hard it was to extract intel from people who lived in the shadows. These were not the folks her parents entertained at ambassadorial functions.
She met with Stone before entering the open-walled restaurant set up for the evening banquet, the smells of roasted meat and curries wafting around them. He looked the same as when she’d left him—nothing out of place, aloof and in control—but he wasn’t happy.
“You playing angel to your vamp of the other day,” he remarked as she approached.
The comment was classic rock man as his gaze skimmed over her Vera Wang taupe silk taffeta-draped gown, with a sequined bra and cap sleeves. Skimmed and lingered at the scoop of her neckline, leaving her pulse skipping into overtime.
The rest of the dress, shades of cream and off-white, might look demure and tame, but not the neckline.
“Either you need a stiff drink or food to fuel you.” She looked beyond him, not really seeing anything. “Keep it up, Stone, you actually sound like a grumpy husband.”
“God forbid.” He took her bare arm, his fingers sure and warm against her skin, and steered her toward the restaurant, giving her one last sizzling glance, making her wonder anew what it’d be like between them if there were no mission. “You sure you don’t have a shawl or sheet or something to drape across what you’re wearing, or have you forgotten you’re in the minority here and most of these fellows are not Cub Scouts?”
“Have you forgotten you can get further with honey than with vinegar? Quit growling.”
“I don’t growl.”
She never would have believed Stone could do sulky little boy. He really was out of sorts. Or worried.
“I take it you found out as much as I did.” The swell of conversations, in several languages, made talking close to one another easier to get away with. And focusing on what they were here for kept her heartbeat steadier.
“It’s a weapon, or involved with weaponry, and comes out of the former Soviet Union, which makes sense.” He scanned the room, always on watch, always wary. “That, and the fact it’s expected to have a hefty price tag. You?”
“Ditto. Only other fact is that there’s a time element involved.”
“How so?” he asked.
“Couldn’t find specific details, but whatever it is must be used in the near future.”
“Not a good phrase.”
They could say no more as a bronze gong was rung and guests started taking their seats around a table King Arthur would have envied. Vaughn silently complimented Blade for his political astuteness. There could be few ruffled feelings about seating arrangements when everyone had an equal place at the round table and he also allowed guests who might not otherwise see or recognize one another a fine opportunity to do so over the meal. The better to whet their appetites for the bidding later, no doubt.
It wasn’t until near the end of the third course that their host joined them.
A swell of greetings announced his arrival, and no one could miss the storm trooper bodyguards flaring out in front of him. More muscle here than in the more public and vulnerable Hotel Taj.
Interesting. One might think Blade did not trust some, or most, of his guests.
But then, he’d always been a very smart man.
If she thought the show was going to begin with his arrival, she was mistaken. He played the part of congenial ringmaster very well, laughing and smiling, acknowledging certain individuals with a nod here, a smile there. His gaze caught and held Vaughn’s as he raised a glass of exquisite Bordeaux to his lips.
She replied in kind, toasting him even as Stone stiffened at her side. The game had begun in earnest and they were now playing their parts. Hard to do, as Stone’s arm brushed against her time and time again.
The man didn’t betray nerves even here, sipping rarely and eating lightly. She wondered if he made love with as much restraint, or if there he’d finally let go.
“You’re smiling,” he whispered at her side.
Did the man miss anything?
“It’s a very good meal.”
He nodded, but his eyes called her a liar.
Good thing Blade chose that moment to stand and tap his glass with a fork.
The crowed stilled, but there remained a hum in the air, the energy of suppressed emotions tinder tight and ready to ignite.
“I wish to thank you all for joining me here today.” Several heads nodded. “Some old friends and acquaintances. Many new faces. But only a few who will walk away with the opportunity I will be providing. The pièce de résistance of this gathering.”
Stone whispered to her, “The man would have made a great used car salesman.”
She had to agree. Blade understood the power of hype, the thrill of anticipation, and he played the crowd for all it was worth.
“Tonight is for relaxation.” Blade smiled. “Tomorrow is for business.”
A few groans rumbled beneath the other talk.
He nodded in acknowledgment. “Do not worry. It will be worth your time. For now, enjoy.”
The man was going to draw out their wait even more.<
br />
“What now?” she asked Stone, leaning toward him.
“We return to our room.”
That was the master plan? Hurry up and wait?
“Patience,” he said at her side as he rose from his seat.
That mind-reading talent could get real old real quick.
“I am patient.”
“Yeah, and I’m flexible.” The grin he gave her had her wondering if he had made a joke.
“Vaughn?” Blade materialized behind her chair.
Great. She’d been so focused on Stone she’d totally lost track of keeping an eye on the prize.
“You have us intrigued.” She gathered together what shreds of thoughts she could find as she stood, crumpling her napkin before sliding it onto the table. “And, as usual, you throw a very nice gathering.”
“Nice?”
Vaughn glanced around the table at the retreating guests before replying. “Let’s say it’s a different crowd than I expected.”
“I told you, times have changed.” He turned to include Stone in the conversation. “I hope you are enjoying yourself?”
“I’m here.”
If she had to learn patience, someone else had to learn politeness.
She cleared her throat, hoping to deflect any swords about to be drawn. Blade didn’t seem to mind as he smiled, a shark’s look, more of a razor-edged grin than a smile. Rudeness must be a guy thing.
Blade was looking at her once again. “Perhaps we can talk tomorrow.”
“Before or after the auction?” she asked.
“Let’s make it before. Say ten. At the infinity pool. Just the two of us.”
“I look forward to it.” There was no protest from Stone. Maybe they were making progress.
“Till later.” Blade nodded at her first, then Stone. “Adieu.”
She watched him walk away and caught Stone watching her.
“What?” She leaned toward him, even though the dinner guests had already dispersed. “Just because you don’t know how to play nice.”
“We’re not here to play nice.”
“Then you get high scores.” She pushed her chair back to move around him. “I’ll see you in the room. Later.”
There. She was learning. If Stone could take potshots and walk away, so could she. In fact, she might actually get good at it. With enough practice. And with Stone around, she figured there’d be plenty of practice.
