He braced himself. “A wily fox. Honey, hold tight to your purse.”
“Ah, Markos,” Abdul Nadim said, ebony eyes twinkling with humor in his leathery face, “here are some people you should meet if you want to forge new connections for Markos Imports.”
Two Middle Eastern men and a woman stood to one side, waiting with guarded interest, unlike the enthusiastic Nadim.
Nick shook hands with the ebullient Arab-American. The barrel-chested entrepreneur was up to something. “I’m honored to meet your friends, Nadim, but you know I plan to sell the business, not expand it.”
The other man wagged his head from side to side. “We shall see. We shall see.”
Introductions followed rank.
Prince Amir Ben Rashid Qasim was the eldest son of the former King Fadil. Tall and fit-looking, he wore a Western-style tuxedo, as did Nadim. His penetrating eyes gazed down his hawk nose at Vanessa with avid interest.
Nick shook hands, but kept his other arm at her waist. So the prince thought he was a damn ladies’ man. Not with her he wasn’t. Heat ignited beneath Nick’s collar.
The second man was the Yamari ambassador to the United States. Fiftyish and compact in a gold-trimmed abaya over his black business suit, Lufti Khalil looked the part of the distinguished, respected diplomat. He’d been runner-up to the newly elected president of Yamar.
Nick greeted the ambassador, then turned to the prince. “Your country fills the news lately, your highness. How’s the government transition going?”
A wide smile brightened the young prince’s somber features. “The transition is gaining speed like a train leaving the station. My father is happy in retirement,” he said in clipped British-educated tones.
The prince must’ve looked forward to his turn to rule. Nick smiled to take the edge off a question that could be considered rude. “And you? Are you adjusting?”
“I am pleased. Being my country’s economic envoy gives me the opportunity to bring more prosperity to my people. And the opportunity to meet such lovely ladies as Ms. Le Bec.” He bowed his head slightly and flashed Vanessa a toothy smile.
“You flatter me, your highness,” she replied warmly.
The jerk’s come-on was older than the Great Pyramid and about as pointed. But the telltale blush on her cheekbones said the hokey line had had its intended effect.
His headache pounded. M-16 rounds ricocheted around his skull. He refocused as Nadim introduced the bright-eyed, older woman in a modest tunic and trousers. She was Khalil’s wife, Dr. Kamilah Sharifah, a pediatrician.
“I am so honored to meet you, Dr. Sharifah,” Vanessa said. “A friend has told me of your important work in your country with the poor and with orphans.”
The Yamari woman inclined her head modestly. “You are too kind, Ms. Le Bec. But I do not work alone. The more people who know of the plight of our poor — we have so many refugees — the more assistance we receive. Perhaps your magazine would like an interview.”
Vanessa smiled. “Adorn is a fashion magazine, but I’ll see what we can work out. Thank you for your generous offer.”
“As intelligent and diplomatic as she is beautiful,” Prince Amir’s dark eyes skimmed Vanessa’s curves. “My compliments, Mr. Markos.”
Nick stretched his lips into a tight smile.
The prince bowed slightly to Vanessa. “You must join me for dinner one evening. I would be pleased to offer Yamari hospitality.”
She began to reply, but Nick cut her off, pulling her closer to his side. “You are too kind, your highness. We’ll have to check our calendars.”
Sucking in his cheeks at the curt reply, Prince Amir nodded. Ambassador Khalil cleared his throat as the prince turned to speak to one of the Yamari aides standing by.
Nick took the opportunity to slip away, but not before Nadim coerced him into a business lunch with Khalil and the prince.
“The snake,” Nick muttered as he hustled Vanessa back to the great hall. “He thought he could slither right in.”
She cocked her head, the movement bouncing the curls on top of her head. “Do you mean Mr. Nadim? I thought he was trying to help. An infusion of new imports would boost the shop’s sales until you can sell.”
“Not Nadim. He merely wants a piece of the profits.”
“The prince? He was just being gracious.”
She wasn’t that oblivious, was she? “Gracious, my ass. Prince Smarmy was coming on to you.”
She shook her head. “Meaningless. With Amir’s reputation, flirting is expected. With any woman he meets.”
Forgoing the Scotch, he accepted the club soda she lifted from the DARK waiter’s tray. Away from the Yamari delegation, he began to cool down. The M-16 bursts dulled to a low throb. What the hell was wrong with him? Letting the prince’s ogling needle him. Wanting to punch the man.
Nick was acting as if Amir had hit on his real fiancée. Must be the headache.
When he noticed Vanessa studying him, he kissed her lightly. “Forgive me. Chalk up my reaction to method acting.”
“Nicolas Markos, good evening.” A stunning blonde in black sequins stepped from a laughing group to greet them.
Chapter 9
NICK HAD TRIED to prepare himself for this encounter, but seeing her skewered him with shame.
Here was the woman Alexei tried to murder twice.
Vanessa placed her hand on Nick’s forearm.
He covered it with his. How did she always know?
“Ms. Rossiter,” he said.
“It’s Ms. Stratton now. I was married in September. But call me Laura.”
The scoop neckline of her dress in no way concealed the still livid knife scars on her neck. She held her head high as though proud to display badges of courage. Which they were.
“Congratulations.” He dragged his gaze from her scars.
The two women knew each other, but in case some New Dawn asshole was watching, he introduced them. “Danielle, Laura’s one of the curators of the Washington Cultural Museum. She organized the Yamari exhibit.”
“The exhibit’s wonderful. Fascinating. You’re to be commended,” Vanessa said.
She and Laura shook hands, holding on a moment in a barely hidden emotional connection. They chatted about the exhibit.
Nick had met Laura once before, at Alexei’s hearing. Seeing her again brought back the entire nightmare scenario.
A year ago, Alexei had acted as middleman, selling art and antiquities to fatten New Dawn’s coffers. He consulted Laura for authentication. When a purported Persian mummy turned out to be phony, Alexei strangled the unfortunate dealer. And Laura happened to witness the murder. Alexei’s henchman beat and stabbed her, then left her to die. Through sheer force of will she escaped. After many months, Alexei cornered her in Maine, where DARK helped trap him, but only after more attempts on Laura’s life. Undercover with the DARK team, Vanessa had befriended her.
A tall, dark-haired man appeared behind Laura and slid his arm around her waist.
Laura’s expression brightened. She smiled up at him.
Her new husband. A DARK officer, he’d coached her to greet Vanessa tonight as Danielle. She must also know about the extra security arrangements. And the reason for them.
“My husband, Cole Stratton,” she said. “Danielle Le Bec and her fiancé Nick Markos.”
“A pleasure, Ms. Le Bec,” Stratton said over Vanessa’s proffered hand.
“Congratulations on your recent marriage, Mr. Stratton. You make a striking couple.” Humor and affection lit her eyes.
“Yes, congratulations, Stratton. You’re a lucky man.” Nick held out his hand.
“Markos.” Stratton’s gaze speared suspicion at Alexei’s brother. He released the hand just short of turning the grip into a duel. “Thanks. Believe me, I know.”
Vanessa watched the two men sharpen their weapons. Cole’s anger was palpable. Allowing this couple at the reception put his lady in danger aga
in. Nick glared back, intent and defiant, shielded by the dented armor of his embattled honor. Their hands would’ve gone to their swords if they’d had any.
A smile lifting her lips, Laura fanned herself with her beaded purse. “My makeup’s melting from all the testosterone around here. Danielle, would you like to freshen up too?”
The museum curator’s mascara and lipstick bore no smudges. Every golden hair lay smoothly in her French twist. Whether linen or silk, nothing she wore ever dared to have a wrinkle or a stain. She was the quintessential upper-crust, sleek blonde, whose classy beauty intimidated lesser mortals.
And yet Laura seemed unaware of her effect on people. She was brave and kind, and Vanessa liked her very much. She grinned. Tonight she didn’t feel rumpled and unkempt beside the other woman. Tonight they were equals. After all, she had the blue-hearted diamond lending her its allure. “While we’re gone, maybe these two will learn to play nice.”
Nick kept possession of her arm. He shook his head. “Going off by yourself isn’t a good idea.”
She peeled off his fingers. “I’ll be fine. The restroom’s right there. Along with two people I know.” She indicated the marked door and the formally clad DARK couple lounging nearby.
From his forbidding expression, he clearly didn’t like it, but the women sashayed away.
Before they could enter the ladies’ room, Vanessa stopped. More than life-sized on its four-foot pedestal, a leering two-headed marble deity loomed over them as if to eavesdrop. Him, she’d allow.
“Unlikely, but the restroom could be bugged. Let’s talk here first.” She nudged her friend closer to the wall.
A matron in a red-sequined dress limped by in stiletto heels that barely contained her fleshy feet. A cloud of perfume trailed in her wake. A small group stopped to chat a few feet away. Layers of voices and clinking crystal and the occasional inspired violin note cloaked conversation.
“I must apologize for my husband’s macho attitude.” Laura gripped Vanessa’s hand.
“After what he went through protecting you in Maine, I’m sure he can’t wait to end this entire mission.”
“Exactly. And seeing Alexei Markos’s brother here doesn’t help. Cole considers Nick a threat.”
“Guilty until proven innocent. Nick isn’t anything like his brother. He’s appalled by everything Alexei did. He’s on our side.” Once she’d uttered the words, she knew she believed it. Nick wouldn’t betray DARK’s goals. His goals were the same.
“I see he has a defender. His caveman protective manner reminds me of Cole. They could be brothers with their black hair and blue eyes.” She chuckled. “And you look at him the same way I look at Cole. You’re falling for him, aren’t you?”
A glance back found the two men facing each other with ramrod backs and defiant stares. But they were talking.
Vanessa sputtered, “I, uh, oh no, it’s just part of our engagement act.”
A few inches taller, Laura tilted her head like a stern teacher correcting a recalcitrant student.
Vanessa sighed. “The hazard of going undercover with an attractive man. I’ll get over it. Besides, he’s in love with the real Danielle.” It was Danielle he was engaged to, Danielle he wanted.
“You’re the one he has his hands on. I get the impression he’d do more than that if you weren’t in public. He’s attracted, and he cares about you. You must see that.”
She shouldn’t let herself think of his heated remarks as jealousy, but maybe… “Nick did seem to overreact when Prince Amir complimented me.”
Laura waved a dismissive hand at the understatement. “So the playboy prince’s flirting hit the jealousy bull’s-eye. Nick’s not thinking of any other woman but you. The real you.”
The notion that he desired her curled around her chest. Impossible. She might be glamorous tonight, but tomorrow Cinderella would be herself — the buddy, the ordinary sister. She had a hard enough time reining in her emotional involvement as it was without impossible dreams.
Vanessa shook her head. “It’s better if he thinks of Danielle. Nothing can happen. I won’t risk the mission. Especially not for a fling that can go nowhere.”
Laura clucked her tongue. “Good-looking, principled, rich, sexy. You shouldn’t let him get away.”
“You don’t understand, but I can’t explain.” Vanessa slipped her arm through her friend’s. “Let’s go to the ladies’ room before the men send out a search team. I haven’t seen you since your wedding. How’s your adorable little girl? Tell me everything.”
***
After the women left, Nick schooled his emotions to withstand Stratton’s hostile scrutiny. The man’s pale blue eyes seemed to drill through blood and bone. His predatory demeanor and a pair of chalk-white scars belied the civility of his tailored tuxedo and polished black shoes.
Stratton stared in silence.
Nick stared back.
Stratton’s eyes narrowed. “You military?”
Nick gave a sharp nod. “Special Forces. Third SFOD group out of Fort Bragg. You?”
“Semper fi.” The former marine stood at ease, sliding his hand into a trouser pocket. “What was your AO?”
Now that the staring contest had ended, Nick spared a glance at the back of the room. Vanessa and Laura were just entering the rest room. The female DARK operative followed. Damn straight.
AO, His Area of Operations. By his appearance, Stratton was a few years younger. What would he know about those earlier SF days? But he saw no reason to conceal facts. “Iraq as regular army. Special Forces in Somalia.”
Stratton scrubbed his chin. In his eerie gaze, respect replaced suspicion. “Somalia. A meat grinder. You’re lucky to be in one piece.”
Sometimes Nick wasn’t so sure. “Yeah, well, some others got chewed up.” And he hated this dicey situation forcing him into the zone, dredging up memories to be replayed in digital color and sound in his dreams. “Where were you deployed?”
“Another U.N. Task Force op. Can’t say where.”
“Copy that.” Hairs prickled Nick’s nape again. Having Vanessa out of his sight was shredding his nerve endings. “What’s taking those women so damn long?”
What might’ve been humor twitched up one corner of the other man’s mouth. “Making you nuts, is she? She can take care of herself. Take my word for it.”
The restroom door opened, spilling brightness into the softly lit reception area. Vanessa and Laura headed toward them, weaving past knots of guests. A smile on her lips, Laura fluttered a wave to her husband. Beside her, Vanessa scanned the crowd.
As they approached the marble statue, a shadowy figure slipped between it and the wall.
The god dipped his two heads. The statue was falling.
Toward the two women.
“Look out!” On a run, Nick shoved past Stratton.
Vanessa glanced upward. She yanked Laura backward. Both women stumbled on their high heels and went down.
The statue crashed in front of them. One head snapped off at the neck. It rolled before coming to rest in front of Nick’s feet. Marble eyes stared in sightless surprise.
Nick’s gaze shot to the empty pedestal. Gone! No one lurked behind it. His heart setting a new Grand Prix record, he detoured toward Vanessa.
A nearby group scattered amid startled shrieks. Stemware shattered on the floor. Conversation hushed as if switched off. The string trio scraped to a squeaky halt.
“That thing just fell over,” a voice shrilled into the pregnant silence.
“It could’ve killed someone.”
“I walked in front of it only a minute ago.”
Nick scooped up Vanessa as Stratton was helping his wife to her feet.
Museum personnel encircled the broken marble and dispersed the crowd that had gathered. Violins and voices once again vied for attention.
When the statue toppled toward Vanessa, Nick’s heart had leaped to his throat and the ricocheting in his skul
l cranked up. Only now were his pulse and the ache ebbing. He patted her shoulders, her back. He ached to pull her close, but held her loosely in his arms, in case she was bruised. “Honey, are you hurt?”
She drew a deep breath and sent him a reassuring smile. “I’m fine. Someone pushed the damn thing over. I caught only a glimpse. Did you see him?”
Nick shook his head. “Not enough. Only a form. Whoever it was blended immediately with the crowd.”
The cameras would have the entire scene on tape.
***
“What do you mean, the cameras didn’t pick it up?” Vanessa swung away from the computer monitor. Her eyes burned from replay after replay of the doomed god biting the dust.
The two night-duty officers glanced up at the outburst, then returned to their monitors. Long after midnight, the glowing screens were the only lights in the command post. Other operatives were on patrol or slept peacefully elsewhere in the house.
“You got it,” the DARK control officer said with annoying good cheer. “Our guy knew the angles. Behind the statue was a dead spot for the cameras.”
With perpetual two-day stubble and a diamond stud in his left earlobe, Simon Byrne looked more like the undercover DEA agent he used to be than the control officer for this mission. But the nonconformist also possessed a blade-sharp intellect and a staunch heart. He shoved a mess of brown hair back off his forehead.
Byrne and the surveillance unit had confiscated all the videos from the Washington Cultural Museum. The techs were working to match frames of people with the guest list. But the two digital feeds the CO brought over to show Vanessa offered no clue as to the identity of her attacker.
“One camera above the statue aimed to the left. Another caught the posh noshers to the right and in front of it. None of them was aimed at the statue.”
“Damn.” Vanessa slumped in the swivel chair. “I know there were New Dawn Warriors at that party. One of them pushed that statue, and we could’ve had him.”
“Roger,” he agreed. “All our leads have fizzled like wet firecrackers. Their cars have been stolen or had stolen plates. The SUV was rented with fake ID.”
She waved in the direction of the mansion next door. “Since we found the cut boards in the fence, no one’s been back. We need a break.”
Dark Cover (The DARK Files #2) Page 9
