“Time’s short. Little over a week until November.”
“Any progress on Husam Al-Din’s plot for Veterans Day?”
“Slow. Another unit’s checking out all the ceremonies planned. The finish line looms.” Simon didn’t look worried. He thrived under a deadline.
“Pressure’s on in more ways than one. I see news stories every day about New Dawn. Congress wants to investigate. The press is hounding the president’s security advisor.” If he wasn’t worried, she sure was.
“Hey, relax. We’re doing all we can. Stratton’s working with the CIA to uncover New Dawn’s big goal.”
“I know, Simon, but Husam Al-Din has acquired a big international following. And he has more money than I can even imagine. The danger has increased exponentially.”
“Yeah, but Al-Din is New Dawn. Other extremist groups are loose and splintered. Not New Dawn. Al-Din runs the show from the top. We get him and the whole house of cards collapses.”
“I hope you’re right. Maybe I should stop reading the Post.” Concentrating on her job made more sense. On being the bait so New Dawn made a mistake and led DARK to their leader.
Leaning forward to view the Humpty-Dumpty picture again, he made kissing sounds. “Man, that was some fancy bash. You clean up good. Even falling on your ass you looked hot, kid.”
Kid, which undid hot. She winced inwardly. He might’ve as well said pal. It was long past midnight, and she’d removed her glass slippers. “Thanks, Simon. I’m glad to be off heels as skinny and high as stilts though.” She wiggled toes in her athletic shoes.
He picked up his paper coffee cup and glanced hopefully inside. With a shrug, he tossed it across the room into the wastebasket. “Two points.”
“Nah. Free throw. One point.” Vanessa pushed to her feet. “I’m calling it a night.”
Byrne accompanied her to the door that would lead across to the Markos house. “I see you’re still wearing his rock.”
At his critical tone, she glanced down at the paste engagement ring on her hand. No. He meant the real rock hanging around her neck. “I didn’t feel safe taking it off until I can return it. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Not as long as you don’t.” His cocky irreverence slid into stern disapproval. He folded his arms. “You two looked cozy as hell in the videos, a regular pair of lovebirds.”
Vanessa’s stomach knotted. “Just part of the act.”
“Make sure you remember that. He may be richer than my aunt Minnie’s cheesecake, but most of his money’s tied up in his and his brother’s businesses. Who knows what other connections he has? I don’t trust him. Watch your step, especially if you find that ten mil.”
Heat climbed her neck. “You do your job. I’ll do mine.”
She forced herself not to slam the door behind her. But was she doing her job? Or had she already lost detachment by getting too involved with the assignment? She had to keep reminding herself of the threats they faced and that she shouldn’t trust Nick. Too much.
Deep breaths of air perfumed by sere leaves and a tree-lined view of the star-spangled sky should’ve soothed her. She felt no better. But she could act objective and professional. Dammit, she could do her job. In spite of how her heart twisted at having to continue with deceptions and subterfuge. Her stock in trade.
Before she went upstairs, she slipped into the study and booted up Nick’s laptop to look for nonexistent treachery.
Chapter 10
NICK DIDN’T SEE Vanessa the next morning until it was time for them to leave for luncheon with one of the potential buyers of Markos Imports. Over the next couple of weeks, the schedule was filled with more luncheons and parties, including embassy receptions. He’d enjoy them only because she’d accompany him.
She’d been spectacular last night, carrying out her role as Danielle and bewitching him as herself. But the woman was a puzzle. Self-doubt, warmth and sexy curves packaged with clandestine skills and smarts. Today she was a walking temptation in a knit dress and jacket that matched her eyes.
He shouldn’t, but he had to know more about her. Much more.
Or was that just self-defense, a way to distract himself from their nerve-racking masquerade? From the stress of being thrust into chaos, as they had been last night? From the potential hyper-reality sensations of combat? From situations he’d avoided thinking about for so long?
If more chaos arose, so be it. He’d endure what he must.
DARK had their backs. But the thought of anything happening to this remarkable woman had him gnashing his teeth. Tension hummed in every muscle as they left the house’s protection. They were sitting ducks. No helmet. No flak vest. No M-16. The sense that he might need them knotted his shoulders.
As soon as he saw the shadows beneath her eyes, he stifled questions about what the surveillance tapes had shown. She covered a yawn as he handed her into the car.
He hadn’t slept much himself. DARK had refused his help viewing the tapes. They didn’t trust him beyond his official role. And they shouldn’t. But dammit, bile crept up his throat every time he pictured that massive marble figure tilting toward Vanessa and Laura.
He dug into his impressions of last night’s attack and came up empty.
Grant Snow guided the powerful automobile through light traffic. Although the restaurant wasn’t far from the Washington Cultural Museum, the DARK driver chose a different route from the previous evening.
“Anyone back there?” Vanessa asked.
“Only our official tail,” Snow replied.
A half hour later, they entered the American Grille at L’Enfant Plaza Hotel. The contemporary Asian decor of Chinese-red banquettes and bonsai trees suited the topic of the coming negotiations.
In the white-linen-and-crystal setting, Vanessa slid into her role as Nick’s loving fiancée and hostess. Seated between him and Dwight Wickham, she made the reluctant buyer comfortable.
After the waiter delivered menus, the sharp-featured businessman, his long graying hair held at his nape with a velvet ribbon, eyed her critically. “My dear Danielle, should you be here? Were you injured in that … incident last night?”
“I’m fine, Dwight,” she answered. “The statue missed me. Did you see it fall?”
He shook his head as he perused the menu. “Just caught a glimpse as the thing toppled over. Damned scary. You’d think the museum would take more care at securing those pieces.”
Nick opened his menu, but scarcely focused on the seafood specialties. “The whole thing went, pedestal and all. Maybe someone leaned on it too hard. Did you happen to see anyone?”
Wickham’s alert gray gaze held a shade of suspicion before he shrugged. “Sadly, no. There was such a crush.”
“Pity,” she said. “The museum will want to know the cause of such an accident.”
Lowering his menu, Nick said to Wickham, “Have you had a chance to look over the financial records I sent you?”
As if he hadn’t spoken, the man turned to Vanessa. “My dear, you’ve been living abroad, so don’t miss this chance to enjoy the Grille’s Maryland crab cakes. You’ll forget all about boeuf bourguignon and other French fare.”
“Crab cakes it is.” She winked at Nick.
He flapped open his menu. Ginger-grilled shark. Might as well since he was swimming with sharks.
It would be a long luncheon.
***
When they exited beneath L’Enfant Plaza’s portico after two, Vanessa saw the deep furrows on Nick’s brow. Stress must be tying him in knots. Her face hurt from smiling, and the cheesecake sat heavily on the crab.
A deal with Wickham for the shop eluded Nick. The crafty bargainer had hedged by saying he needed more time to look over the records. He’d be in touch.
Maybe what they both needed was a little fresh air.
Mackerel clouds in the mostly blue sky portended rain, and the autumn air was balmy. There should be plenty of tourists around them as bu
ffers.
“Feel like stretching your legs?”
Nick’s mouth curved in pure delight, the first sign today of anything but grim determination. “You read my mind.”
Warmed and a little mesmerized, she forced her gaze away from his killer grin and the way his dove-gray suit conformed to his hard body. The natural way he wore the band-collar shirt made men in ties look fussy. She tapped on the driver window of the Mercedes. “Grant, we’re going to take a walk along the Mall. You can pick us up at the Capitol in an hour.”
Slipping her arm into Nick’s, she savored the sage and cedar that stamped him. As they strolled up 9th Street toward the Mall, she heard Snow sputtering expletives into his radio.
“He or Simon will tear a strip off my hide later, but we’ll be safe enough. We have our guardian angels — the other car and two guys scrambling to catch up to us on foot.”
“Three guys.” He jerked a nod toward the other side of the street.
“I stand corrected.” She gave his solid forearm a pat. “You still have your Special Forces instincts.”
He scowled and clammed up, so she let the issue go. For now. She’d hit a wall in researching Nick’s misadventure in Somalia, but she wouldn’t give up.
At Jefferson Drive, Vanessa glanced left toward the Washington Monument at the far end of the Mall. Too far, so she suggested they turn right toward the Capitol Building.
Government staffers with briefcases shared the sidewalk with senior citizens in matching windbreakers and young families with baby strollers. The vendor on the next corner was tying balloon animals for laughing children.
She said, “I love the Mall. It’s so friendly and open, a living demonstration of this country.”
“Little Ms. Optimist, aren’t you?”
“I can’t help it. Guess I’m giddy from this heady chance at freedom.” She covered a yawn.
“Not giddy. Tired. Late-night sleuthing?”
“For all the good it did.” She explained about the camera dead spot behind the statue.
His brows clamped together. “Damn. We found nothing. It can’t be coincidence. The attacker must’ve scoped out the camera angles.”
“That’s my conclusion too. He visited the museum more than once in preparation. Matching the video clips with the guest list will take time.”
He ran his tongue around his teeth. “They knew we’d attend the reception. The guest list was no secret, but not public knowledge.”
“Who did you tell about the reception?”
“Janine knew, of course. Emil Alfieris and Celia Chin at the import shop.” He threw up a hand. “Hell. Any number of people knew. I made sure to mention it to business contacts during the last week.”
“No wonder Abdul Nadim wasn’t surprised to see you.”
“Neither were the other three possible buyers. Too bad Wickham didn’t see something — or someone.”
“Give me a list, and we’ll check out connections to New Dawn.” She flipped her hair off her shoulder and smiled. “Pretty smooth way you questioned him.”
“Call me Agent Smart.” His tone darkened the light words.
A block farther, at the Hirshhorn Museum, they followed the steps down to the sculpture garden. Their path took them in and out of the shade of the looming modern figures that surrounded the massive circular building.
Vanessa peered up at a gently rotating, bright blue Calder mobile. “I love how those things move. Mom always has a couple of small mobiles and some wind chimes. Seeing this one reminds me of home.”
“Your parents have room for this one in their yard?”
She laughed. “Only if we demolish the Palmeiris’ house.”
That he was enjoying a little humor with her lit a glow in her chest, but a tiny voice inside her head doused the nascent flame. It warned her not to lose her professional edge. Her throat tightened. She couldn’t let immersion in her role jeopardize the mission. Stopping New Dawn was too important.
Important to Nick too. He squinted into the sun as he seemed to puzzle over a tubular shape labeled Dome.
How long since she’d scanned around them? Had she missed anything? No. Their DARK tails were still with them. No one else around them but lovers and vacationing families. She sighed in relief and put a hand to her throat.
Her eyes popped wide, and she straightened. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She pulled the gold chain from beneath her sweater, unfastened the clasp and extended the pendant to him. “Thanks for letting me wear this last night. I did feel glamorous. Until I landed on my butt.” She gave a nervous laugh.
He hesitated, but took the necklace. “You were indeed glamorous. And courageous. Your fast reaction saved both Laura and you from serious injury.”
Heat rose to her cheeks. “Thanks. I was just doing—”
“Your job. Yes, I know.” He took her hand and headed to another part of the garden. “You’re an enigma to me. How can a beautiful and sophisticated woman like you doubt your own appeal? Just because some clueless guy once—”
“Not just one guy. Not just once.” Damn her redhead’s complexion that broadcast her every reaction. “But thanks for the compliment.”
“Are you sure you weren’t overly sensitive?”
A small boy ran by, holding aloft a toy airplane that he’d probably just bought at the Air and Space Museum. He made buzzing and whirring noises. Like the whirring in her stomach.
“You really want to know?” She laughed self-consciously.
“I’m hoping I can acquit my sex.”
Her gaze lofted to his. “Not all of your sex are as concerned with honor as you. But okay, my embarrassing secrets are yours.”
She could almost see his chest swell. Sharing a secret meant a measure of trust. Maybe he’d trust her with his. They continued to amble around the garden, stopping to read the placards for the most interesting pieces.
“It started in junior high. Boys I’d been friends with all through elementary school would drop by to shoot a few hoops. Before we could finish a game of horse, I was benched and they were wowing Diana with jump shots.”
“Rough. Especially for the big sister.” His fingers played with curls at her temple, sending shivers across her scalp. “A tomboy should have an advantage. Knowing about guys. How they think.”
She shrugged. If only she did know how guys thought. “Maybe. Most tomboys don’t have a drop-dead-gorgeous sister.”
His expression turned wistful. “Our situations were different, but I felt shunted aside too, in favor of Alexei.”
She could picture the serious boy, hurt by indifference, working harder to get his father’s attention. The gentleness of his touch and the sadness in his eyes filled her with longing. “Alexei the charmer and Nicolas the serious one.”
“Exactly.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and took her hand. They ambled on to the next exhibit. “But we were talking about you. Teenage boys can be thoughtless and single-minded. At puberty their brains slide below their belts.”
She gave him the sweet smile and wide-eyed Kewpie-doll expression learned from Diana’s model friends. “Is that a nice way of saying their heads are up their asses?”
Nick blinked, as if he couldn’t believe his ears. His mouth twitched. His eyes crinkled. Then he laughed, a great belly laugh, and slung one arm around her shoulders. “Honey, I think that says it all.”
They sat on a bench beneath one of the building’s large pillars and watched the fountain geyser up like Old Faithful. Held in the shelter of his embrace, she felt protected and cherished. She could stay like that forever.
But all she had was this moment. A bittersweet ache coiled through her.
Way past losing detachment, she was in danger of falling in love with an impossible man. She meant to respond to his laugh with a flippant remark, but she was fresh out.
Nick ruffled her hair and kissed her temple. “Teenage boys are their own species. Fast forward to men. Tell me t
hey have more sense.”
She sighed, reluctant to lose the intimacy of the moment. “You tell me. How about Richard? We dated for three weeks in college until I introduced him to Diana. Then I was history.”
His brows drew together in that thoughtful pleat she was coming to know. “And how did Diana handle this?”
She tamped down the twinge of jealousy his question aroused. “Diana’s not the problem. My sister and I understand each other. She always saw through those not-too-subtle ploys and cut those guys off at the knees. She had her own problems with guys treating her like a doll.” She wouldn’t mention that Diana always had ten other guys waiting in the wings.
“Just because you have a cover-girl sister doesn’t make you the perpetual best buddy. Some of us appreciate cute and freckles that look good enough to taste.”
“Thanks, Nick. That’s very sweet.”
She could give him a list, but had said enough. The guys she worked with treated her like a pal. She encouraged it since that was better than the harassment some female officers experienced.
Someday a man like Nick would fall in love with her for herself, not as a means to her gorgeous sister and not as her undercover persona. But not Nick. Never Nick. Merely thinking the words produced a sharp spasm in her heart.
His heated gaze cruised all her assets and curled her toes. He pulled her to her feet, and they continued walking.
She didn’t know quite why she’d confessed all her insecurities, but blithering on kept her from hauling him close for a mind-bending kiss — what she really wanted to do. Every nerve ending she possessed sparked with awareness. No, no and no. Detachment, detachment.
He pointed toward a tarpaulin-covered shape in the plaza. They’d completed the circuit of the garden surrounding the massive circular museum and were returning toward Jefferson Drive. “A new addition to the collection.”
Grateful for the change of topic, she hurried toward the indistinct lump. “Ah, this must be the pedestal for the sculpture donated by the new Yamari government.”
Dark Cover (The DARK Files #2) Page 10
