by Fiona Brand
She nodded. "Hard to believe, huh?"
A slow smile started in his eyes. "Honey, the second I went into partnership with Lombard's the press took a chunk out of my hide. They think I'm a gangster. Come to that, they think Blade and Gray are gangsters."
Tyler stared at West blankly. He was utterly relaxed about what the press could or could not do to him. She felt relieved and irritated at the same time. It was illogical. After all the worry she'd invested on his behalf, the lengths she'd gone to to protect him, she should feel happy that West, and his business, were impervious to the press. "Were you ever worried—?"
"Not in this life."
"—because, damn it, I was."
He grinned, slid his hands around her waist, and eased her close. Smoldering irritation aside, she could feel herself dissolving. She should scream, she should yell for airport security and ensure they got their photo in the paper. With her publicity track record, one more scandal wouldn't even register. "Buddy, you're dicing with death."
"I like walking the edge." For a split second his grin widened, then she lost her perspective as he bent his head and laid his mouth on hers.
Her heart stopped in her chest, then pounded back to life. He smelled clean and male and tasted like soda, and the kiss was so good it was indecent. He shifted his mouth and she could feel herself drifting deeper. The hum of conversation, the low-level hustle and bustle of the airport receded, and abruptly she remembered how it had been last night—the sheer warm intimacy of sleeping with West again. She had felt safe when, under normal circumstances, she should have lain awake most of the night reliving those moments in her bedroom when she'd known someone was there.
West lifted his head, as if he'd felt her tension, and a faint shiver skimmed her spine at the watchfulness of his gaze. For a moment she'd almost forgotten that essential part of him—and that he'd met Chen to try and get a lead on the man who was stalking her.
When he'd gone after the intruder the previous night, for the first time she had seen how he was in battle. His face had been the face of a hunter, blank and cold and utterly focused. In love or not, she would be crazy not to remember who West was— what he was—and that West not only liked walking the edge, he loved it.
West untied the scarf where it was knotted beneath her chin, let the silk fall around her shoulders and ran his fingers through her hair. "Since you've already had a taste of undercover work, I've lined up another assignment tonight. According to Blade and Gray the Lombard Casino has recently become a prime stamping ground for one of Laine's managers."
The casino was full, the floor and the bars a cacophony of light and sound and pulsing color.
In an adjacent bar, a band was playing a blues number, and the husky wail of a singer and the sensual murmur of a sax wove smokily through the packed floor.
West kept hold of Tyler as they paused to buy chips, not because he thought she was in any danger here, but because Tyler was certifiably gorgeous in green silk, and the casino was filled with males on the prowl. He was damned if he'd allow any other guy to think he could make moves. He handed Tyler a packet, then guided her toward the tables.
She slipped the chips into a beaded evening bag that matched her shoes, and her underwear. The dress she was wearing was sexy to keep him on edge all evening, what she had on underneath made him break out in a sweat.
She slung the strap of her evening bag over her shoulder. "You're not going to gamble?"
"I've done enough gambling to last a lifetime. I don't need the roulette wheel."
"If you're talking about your job, then you're right," she said curtly. "Every time you went away on a mission was a gamble."
"It was never a gamble. I knew I'd be okay."
West went still inside. He'd never voiced it before, but that's exactly what he had known, that he wouldn't die or be seriously hurt. He'd worried that he was losing it mentally with the risks he'd been taking, but a part of him that he seldom acknowledged until he was actually in a battle situation had known he wasn't taking a risk. He could label it prescience or clairvoyance, whatever, there was nothing too weird in it, although most people would see the experience as borderline. West knew that Blade was psychic. He also knew that Blade would personally break every bone in the body of anyone who pointed that fact out—except, of course, his wife. Anna could tell Blade he was an alien from Mars and he'd pun-like a pussy cat.
Relief loosened a tension inside him that he didn't often recognize, or even put a name to. He wasn't certifiable, then. The psychic talent he possessed had simply worked in a way he hadn't expected. He'd had a premonition. Although in his case it hadn't been about something bad happening; he'd had a premonition of safety.
Tyler squeezed his hand. "What's wrong? You look as though you've seen a ghost."
West focused on Tyler. He hadn't seen a ghost, but he'd laid one to rest.
Carter strolled past the slot machines and joined them.
West lifted a brow. For Carter, dressing was simple: jeans, boots, T-shirt and gun. It wasn't often he could be coaxed into any kind of formal gear. Tonight he was wearing dark trousers that had a faint silky sheen, a white collarless shirt, and he'd finally invested in a jacket. "You got a jacket to fit."
Carter's gaze skimmed the floor. "Had to get it made."
''About time. Where did you go?''
"Not to that little dive off High Street you recommended, that's for sure. That place was full of stockbrokers and wedding dresses."
"DiVaggio's showroom."
"That's the place. There was a tall, dark guy in there. Gave me the creeps."
"Gino Veronese. DiVaggio's floor manager. Hell of a retailer."
"I don't care who he is, or what he's selling, I'm not buying." West's mouth twitched. He lifted a hand, acknowledging Gray, who was walking toward them. "Couple of years back he tried to date Blade. That only happened once."
"I'll bet. Speaking of Blade, where is the Prince of Darkness tonight?"
Gray came to a halt beside Carter. "Probably upstairs changing diapers. It's his turn."
A dark form materialized on Tyler's right, making her start. She caught the edge of a white grin, the unmistakable line of Blade Lombard's profile.
"These days it's always my turn. Anna's pregnant again." Blade traded a look with Gray. "I've been checking the floor. We've got unexpected company." He nodded in the direction of the blackjack table.
Gray's expression remained unchanged, but his gaze was icy. "They won't be staying."
A slight Chinese male dressed in an exquisite suit approached, coming to a halt several feet away, he was flanked by a second figure, dressed completely in black. West recognized the suit was Li Chou, number-three son of the infamous Chou family, which operated out of Hong Kong. Li was the head of Australasian operations. He spent most of his time in Sydney—it was unusual for him to be in New Zealand at all. The protection was Kim Soon, one of the Triad's top hit men.
He met Kim's impassive gaze and shifted to shield Tyler. At the same time he became aware that Carter, Gray and Blade were flanking him. All around, the hum of conversation continued to flow, twined with the smoky blues number, but the tension was palpable enough that an area cleared around them, leaving a pool of silence.
The greeting when it came was soft, formal, the bow slight, but respectful—open hands, showing the palms. No weapons, a messenger only. Li Chou extended the politesse to include the Lombard brothers, the ritualistic formality of his gesture acknowledging the raw burn of power in the air. Beneath the exquisite tailoring of evening dress, Gray and Blade were both armed: this was Lombard territory. West caught the subtle shift of movement, noticed the smooth positioning of Lombard security. If there was trouble, the odds weren't good for the Triad.
Gray and Blade both acknowledged Li Chou, and ignored Kim. West replied in Cantonese, matching Li's formality.
The message was short, succinct. "We have no business with Gabriel West or his family." The bow acknowledged Tyler.
/>
"What about Laine's?"
Li's gaze flickered to Tyler, an uncharacteristic hint of surprise giving emotion to his still features. He directed his reply to West. "Laine's is your family. Naturally, they are under your protection."
West controlled his own surprise at the way in which Li had couched the relationship. For some reason Li and the Triad families were presently regarding him as the head of Laine's. The message was
both obscure and crystal clear—as close to a declaration as he could ever hope to get that Triad, and Triad interests, had nothing to do with the theft of the jade. Not that that was a big surprise—the theft had been slick, but the mugging had been sloppy. Triad wasn't sloppy. If they needed to steal anything, or carry out a hit, they sent a professional, like Kim. Tyler stepped forward, ignoring West's restraining hand. "You're talking about the jade. But if you had done business with Laine's, you would have transacted the business with me, and I don't know you." The silence stretched, the tension gathering, coalescing until it was thick enough to slice.
This time Li's bow was curt, almost non-existent. "We do not deal in jade."
Tyler watched the men return to their table, a little shudder running down her spine. She regularly dealt with Asian clientele and was used to the difference in manners and body language, the ritualistic etiquette involved. Their being Asian had nothing to do with her reaction. She liked her Asian clients, but this guy was certifiably creepy. "Who was that?"
"That," West said grimly, "was Triad, and you just broke the unbroken rule."
She suppressed another shudder as she watched the innocuous little man with Li bend down and hold a lighter to the businessman's cigarette. "What rule?"
"You made him state what he was really talking about."
Tyler turned her attention to West. "I know just where he can stick that rule."
"The little guy with him is Kim. Now there's your Asian bad guy. He's a killer."
''He doesn't look lethal.'
There was a small silence, then West's hand settled at the small of her back and Tyler found herself propelled toward the exit. "I'm getting you out of here before you insult any more people."
West nodded at the security guard at the door. "Kim doesn't want to look lethal because he doesn't want trouble with the cops."
"I just asked him a question. How was I to know they were Triad? It's not as if they wear a tattoo on their foreheads—"
"They're organized crime. These days it's a multinational business. They deal in drugs and money laundering. Trust me, the people who need to know they're Triad, know."
"Including the police and Interpol."
‘‘You’ve got it. They run legitimate businesses. Li is the CEO of a manufacturing conglomerate. He exports computer components out of Taiwan. The motherboard for your laptop probably came out of his factory."
"So, if he's Triad, and supposedly invisible, why did he expose himself like that?"
The glass doors slid open, the abrupt change from air-conditioned coolness to the steamy warmth of an
Auckland night instantly made her skin prickle with heat.
"The publicity of the jade theft has put the spotlight on the Asian underworld, and Cornell's been a busy man, he's been applying pressure. That was the Triad's way of saying ease off."
"And you're supposed to tell Cornell to back off?"
West's shoulders lifted. "Cornell's doing his best, but police resources are limited. Why look where the jade is least likely to be?"
The roulette wheel spun, the raucous sound gradually winding down to a series of rhythmic clacks as it slowed.
A man detached himself from the noisy, jostling crowd pressing in close around the wheel before the marker found its final resting place. Coldly, he skimmed the crowded floor, taking in the flamboyance and the noise, the tourists rubbing cheek by jowl with the addicted poor and the jewel-bedecked wealthy.
Over the past ten years, he'd systematically robbed some of the wealthiest homes in the Pan Pacific region, always keeping to his area of expertise—diamonds—and he'd amassed a tidy fortune, although he'd been careful to keep the bulk of his wealth offshore. He had a Swiss bank account, a block of apartments in Paris and a lavish property in Geneva.
Over the years, he'd created a number of identities for himself. Traveling under different passports allowed him to move freely in the countries he was working, without jeopardizing his legitimate identity and his job with Laine's, both of which allowed him an inside track on who was buying expensive gems, and provided the ultimate cover. After all, who would suspect a diamond buyer, working in one of the toughest, high-security jobs outside of Fort Knox, of moonlighting to steal the merchandise he traded in?
The diamond business was tightly regulated by the major diamond players—the gems allocated on a drip-feed system into a hungry market in order to keep the value sky-high. It was a seller's market, often by invitation only, where even the buyers themselves were screened. Credentials were everything, and dealing for Laine's put him in at the top end of the bidding and set the seal on his credibility.
He had been repeatedly screened every way a person could be screened short of a full body search. His security rating was the highest. When he walked through international borders with a briefcase cuffed to his wrist, he was escorted by bodyguards, on a priority pass—first-class all the way.
The irony of the security buzz around him, when he was one of the bad guys, never failed to amuse him.
Chapter 13
The underground car park was reasonably well lit but decidedly dim after the lights of the casino. The car was parked some distance away. Normally, Tyler didn't mind the walk, but the dimness brought back the eeriness of the mugging in the car park.
A footfall sounded, soft and distant. Tyler's breath dammed in her throat despite the fact that West was with her as she waited for the next sound—and didn't hear one. She couldn't remember if she'd heard the doors to the hotel slide open or not—but she didn't think so. And no vehicle had driven in; therefore the person who had made the noise had to have been already in the car park. That didn't mean that the person had a suspicious motive for being there, though; it was possible they were simply waiting for someone.
The sound came again, closer this time.
West cursed softly beneath his breath. His arm came around her waist, and she found herself pulled behind a pillar.
His breath was warm and damp in her ear. ‘‘Wait here."
The seconds stretched out, amplified by the utter silence in the car park. Outside, she could hear the hum of city traffic, the distant wail of a siren. Tyler heard a surprised grunt, a brief scuffle. When she peered out from behind the pillar, West had the man who'd been shadowing them pushed up against a car.
The man West had caught was medium height and broad-shouldered with a short haircut that made him look ex-army. As Tyler walked slowly toward them, West abruptly let the man go.
The shorter man straightened and reached gingerly into his jacket to extract his wallet. "My name's John Leland. I'm a P.I. My firm also does security work. I was hired to follow Miss Laine and take note of all her contacts, and to intervene to protect if necessary."
"Offensive surveillance."
West perused Leland's photo identity. Leland hadn't lied. He worked for one of the smaller security firms in town.
He handed the card back. "Who hired you?"
"Richard Laine."
West slid his arm around Tyler and pulled her close to his side. He wasn't sure of the legal ground—it was a gray area unless the security firm actually did intervene in Tyler's life—but technically, Tyler wasn't their client. "Tyler hasn't agreed to any kind of surveillance or protection."
Leland's face reddened as slipped his wallet back into his jacket pocket. "You weren't supposed to know about it. May I have my gun back now?"
West slipped the confiscated Browning from the waistband at the small of his back, took the magazine out and handed the unloaded weapon ba
ck to Leland. He then emptied the magazine into his pocket and handed him the empty magazine. Damned if he'd have Leland following either him or Tyler out of here with a loaded handgun, no matter who had hired him.
A quiet footfall sounded behind them. West turned to see Richard walking toward them. His gaze narrowed. He hadn't seen Richard inside the casino, but that wasn't so surprising; the place had been packed.
Richard nodded at Tyler, then met West's gaze. "I hired Leland because I didn't trust you to keep Tyler safe."
West had no problem with Richard's bluntness, or the fact that Richard didn't trust him to look after his sister. If he was in the same position, he'd be just as wary. "Call him off," he said softly.
Richard's gaze was cold. "Or what?"
"Or you'll have Cornell to contend with. What you're doing isn't legal."
Richard went white, then nodded curtly at Leland.
Tyler watched as Leland walked a short distance away, got into a late-model sedan and backed out. She glanced at Richard. "How long's he been watching us?"
Richard looked sheepish. ''About two hours. This was his first night."
She closed her eyes briefly. "You should have asked me."
"If I'd asked, you would have turned the offer down, and I wanted you to have some kind of protection."
"I've got my protection. In case you didn't notice he managed to neutralize your guy in about ten seconds."
Something hot flashed in Richard's gaze, and suddenly he didn't look wary or cold or uncertain, he just looked angry. "It's not my area of expertise, but I had to do something. Someone's playing games, and I don't know if the police can nail him because he's damned slick. I've been searching Laine's database for the bastard."
Tyler's throat went tight. "That's what you've been doing?"
Richard's jaw squared. "What did you think? That I was just working late? That I'd let you get beaten up, or take the blame for the theft without doing anything to help?"
Tyler swallowed. "I didn't think that."
Richard let out a breath. "The theft was an inside job. Someone got in and rewrote the program. The new version date is the day the jade was discovered missing." He shoved a hand through his hair, suddenly looking distracted. "We need to go to the office, but first I need to go home and get my laptop."
