by Cherry Adair
Her stomach growled.
Kane reached for the phone. "I'll call room service," he said briskly. "Any preferences?"
She shook her head. "Food, and lots of it. As long as it's not green."
"Meet me back here in fifteen minutes for debriefing." .
"I'll be back in ten."
In the end it tookAJ half an hour to shower and wash her hair thoroughly. It was lovely having French milled soap and delicately scented floral shampoo, but given the way she smelled, she needed industrial-strength cleaners and a good hard wire brush. A flea dip might not have been out of line, either.
Finally clean, she spent a few extra minutes applying antiseptic cream to various small cuts and scrapes. She could feel the knot on the back of her head with tentative fingertips, but couldn't see how badly she'd been hit. Considering where Kane had found her, she was damn lucky this was the worst she had to show for her overnight experience.
Female T-FLAC agents always knew in the back of their minds that they could, and possibly would, be sexually assaulted if an op went wrong. It was a frightening, and very real, hazard of the job. An implant protected against pregnancy. But there were far worse things a woman had to be concerned with. Her psychological training had included a hundred different scenarios. Thank God she hadn't needed to utilize any of that information. Yet.
Knowing what she did of Raazaq and his followers, AJ knew just how damn fortunate she'd been to escape his methods of interrogation. Once. But she was pretty sure her ration of luck was used up. She couldn't count on getting that lucky again. If Raazaq managed to snatch her a second time…
"But you won't have to worry about that, will you?" she asked the disheveled woman in the mirror. "Pretty hard for Raazaq to snatch you out from behind a desk at T-FLAC headquarters."
She scowled at her own reflection, trying to figure out just how she was going to lose Kane. The man was being as pissy as a maiden aunt and she didn't doubt for a minute that in his current mood he'd walk her right onto the plane and buckle her seat belt for her.
The thought of Kane's hands on her caused another shiver to skitter through her. AJ shook her head. Even though he was mad at her, even though he was rude, insensitive, and bossy—God help her, she was attracted to the j erk.
"You need help," she told the idiot still staring back at her from the foggy glass. "And step one is to get over it. For God's sake, the man can't stand the sight of you. Do you really need more punishment?" A good argument—unfortunately, neither she nor her reflection seemed to be paying attention.
The psychiatrists would have a field day with this one.
"Cooper! Move your ass."
"Yes, sir, O captain, my captain," she muttered, thinking briefly about how tempting it was to slam something heavy into his hard head. She could make her escape while he was out. Of course, when he came to, there wouldn't be a country big enough to hide in. The satisfaction, however, just might be worth it. Grumbling to herself, she yelled, "I'm coming, already!"
A couple more hours in his company and they'd go their separate ways. She could bite her tongue—instead of his, AJ thought with a sudden grin—for just a few more hours. A few hours of keeping her thoughts to herself were do-able.
Drying off quickly, she wrapped a towel around her wet hair, rubbed most of the moisture out of it, then tossed the towel over the rack and padded naked into the luxuriously appointed bedroom.
She pulled on clean underwear and jeans, then tried to find a top that didn't expose her boobs. She hadn't chosen any of the clothes hanging in the closet herself. T-FLAC wardrobe department had selected and packed for her while she'd been in briefing. She'd stepped aboard the plane bound for Cairo a few hours later carrying just her backpack. Everything had been waiting for her in baggage claim on arrival yesterday.
Normally, she wouldn't be caught dead in any of this stuff. Everything was a little too tight, and a little too low cut. But it wasn't her tastes being catered to. It was Fazur Raazaq's.
AJ finally settled on a white tank top, turning it around so the low, scooped neckline exposed her back instead of her breasts. She started finger-combing the heavy mass of her damp hair. Hanging halfway down her back, it was long enough to be a nuisance, and she rarely wore it loose. She absently started plaiting it into a tight French braid as she walked into the living room.
Kane stood by the window across the room, talking on the Sat Comm link.
The real Kane.
Tall, loose-limbed, and broad-shouldered, dressed in black pants and charcoal shirt. AJ sighed inwardly. If her attraction to the man hadn't been dimmed when he'd been in full makeup and looked like her grandfather, why had she thought it would go away when he was back to his normal gorgeous self?
Her knee-jerk reaction to him was the same now as it had been the first time she'd laid eyes on him. Damn. She'd hoped everything that had happened recently would've put paid to the lust problem. It hadn't.
Maybe it would fade when he started snarling at her again. A girl could hope.
He glanced up, impatiently waved her into the room, then seemed to physically withdraw as he turned his attention back to the conversation on the phone.
His shaggy hair, wet from his shower and finger-combed back, exposed the contours of his face in bold, unrelieved strokes. He'd needed a shave several days ago. He looked damn good. Too damn good. He also looked sinister, rakish, and dangerously appealing. Fortunately for her good sense and libido, his features shouted "Do not disturb" in no uncertain terms.
He looked his normal unapproachable and taciturn self. This was a man used to giving orders and having them obeyed without question.
Well, wasn't he going to be in for a surprise.
A small table, elaborately set for two, drew her attention. Her stomach growled. Loudly. She sat down, not waiting for him to complete his conversation, though she did try to hear what she could.
"I'd appreciate anything you can get me by noon our time today." Kane paused, and AJ felt his gaze on her, but didn't look up from spreading apricot jam on a slice of warm bread. Rivulets of melted butter ran down the backs of her fingers.
"No. I am not happy, but you're giving me no choice," he said into the phone, then paused to listen, impatience tightly reined.
Hmmm, AJ thought, hiding a smile behind her bread. Apparently I'm not the only one who can drive the man to the absolute end of his rope.
"Yes. I agree. Give me what you—" He paused, and AJ glanced up to see him watching her lick the butter off her fingers. "—can," he finished tightly.
"Problems?" She absently sucked at her pinky finger. What concerned Kane affected her, and vice versa. Besides, if someone was making him mad, she wanted that guy on her side. "What's going on?"
"You're back in the game, Cooper." His voice was grim, his eyes an opaque dark blue as he snapped the phone closed and stuffed it into his back pocket. "God help us both."
"I am?" AJ cleared the frog out of her throat. "I am?"
"Against my better judgment, yes."
She turned her attention back to her breakfast to hide her elation. He could be as crabby as he wanted to be. The point was, she'd won. She wasn't going home. She was going with him. Largely under his duress, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was, she had the chance to salvage what she hoped would be a long and proud career. Inside she was turning cartwheels and doing the Snoopy dance. She kept her expression sober. "You won't be sorry."
He faced her, all steely eyes and grim determination. His expression telegraphed he was already sorry. "Tell me the truth, Cooper. Are you capable of killing Raazaq?"
She met that gaze with a cold, hard look. "Yes."
"Unequivocally? "
"Unequivocally."
"You do realize we won't have another chance, right? Once he leaves Fayoum, we won't know where the hell he is. And if when we get there he puts together the fiasco the other day with who we'll be when he meets us, we'll wish we were dead. Got it?"
"Jesus, I
'm not an idiot." She stiffened and told herself the hell with it. If she was going to be burned, she might as well be burned for being cocky instead of being unsure of herself. "I know what this means. I know we wouldn't be in this mess if I hadn't screwed the pooch. But I did. I can't change it but I can assure you it won't happen again."
"Why should I believe you?"
"Because you have my word. I'll get close enough, and Raazaq will die."
He looked at her for a long minute that seemed to tick by in eternity-filled seconds. AJ didn't look away. She stared right back at him. Don't let him see your fear. Don't look away first. Be the Alpha dog.
Right.
After staring at her hard enough to do a mind-meld, he nodded. "All right. Tell me what you know about your target."
He had a made-for-radio voice. Deep, dangerous, mysterious. Very sexy. Oh, for God's sake, she thought irritably, for-get Kane. Concentrate on getting what you wanted. Another opportunity.
She took a bite of warm bread, chewed, and swallowed. "We were at the same briefing. I know what you know."
"I doubt that. But what I'm telling you to do is to distill what you know and regurgitate it for me."
She could play the game as well as he could, AJ thought. He wouldn't catch her flat-footed again. This time, she'd be prepared. This time, she'd knock his socks off. "Fazur Hessan Ali Raazaq. Forty-three. On the FBI's Most Wanted list for the bombings of United States embassies in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, Nairobi, and Johannesburg."
AJ rattled off the list as if she were reading it. "Attacks on Federal facilities resulting in death. Aircraft piracy, hostage-taking. The use of destructive devices. Attacks on U.S. citizens abroad. Aiding and abetting. Murder. Kidnapping. Torture." She paused. "Latest atrocity—the bombing of a private, and very exclusive, girl's boarding school in Switzerland. Five hundred and eighteen girls, average age twelve, killed. That was two weeks ago. Public outcry for his ass has been heard from every country large and small. I think that about covers him."
Kane lifted the silver dome and set it aside. "You forgot sexual deviant. He's big into S and M."
"Don't ruin my appetite with minor details. Let's eat first." She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. "God, this smells incredible." She unwrapped her silverware and settled the napkin on her lap. "Coffee? It's American."
He glanced up. AJ held the heavy silver pot poised. She was strong. The container didn't waver. Her hand was slender, her nails short and clean. There was still a faint gleam of butter on her tanned skin. Kane felt an untoward spark of sexual attraction and immediately squashed it. "Sure. Thanks."
He'd read the reports and had been concerned about her temper. As well as her looks, her inexperience, and the fact that she was under his protection.
And damn it, this was the wrong business to feel any emotion. Temper. Joy. Disappointment. Fear. The enemy was everywhere. The slightest hint of any kind of feeling, and it would be used against you. Kane hardened himself against her satisfaction at being back in the game.
This op was going to require all of his skills just to keep them both alive. He had to be sharp, in control, and focused. Normally none of those would present a problem, but he'd known the first time he'd set eyes on Cooper she wasn't going to be the norm. Just the thought of once again being responsible for her safety knotted his stomach. Goddamn it. Too hungry to communicate, they ate in silence. He was silent, anyway. She couldn't seem to stop talking, even to chew. He blocked out the sound, but had a harder time with the visual. Barefoot, she wore blue jeans and a white tank top, which left her tanned shoulders and lightly muscled arms bare. Pale, ginger-gold hair was unceremoniously slicked off her face and twisted into a braid that hung almost to her waist. She absently tossed the long rope over her shoulder, leaving the front of the thin white cotton shirt damp. She was tall, toned, and drop-dead beautiful.
And way too much trouble.
"What?" she asked, looking up to catch him staring at her.
"You clean up well." Her moods were fascinatingly mercurial. She'd been furious in the elevator—why, he wasn't sure. Because he'd called her on her flirting? Possibly. He'd been well aware of her control. Yet the mood had passed almost before they reached their suite.
She smiled a smile potent enough to shoot straight to his groin. "Thanks. So do you." She gave him a thorough once-over in return. Kane sat still for her perusal. She inspected him with the careful attention he'd just given her. "You're really a master of disguise, aren't you? Just looking at you an hour ago, I would've sworn you were a hundred."
"That was the idea." He wasn't used to being scrutinized with such intensity. Although he was damn sure Cooper was. He knew there'd been disciplinary action taken with several male students in her class. Now that he'd seen her up close and personal, he pitied the poor bastards who'd given in to their hormones and fucked up promising careers.
"Eat before it gets cold." His tone was slightly annoyed. Which irritated the hell out of him. For years he'd gone for the Mr. Spock school of emotion. None at all served him well, and he had no intention of changing that now.
His cover as an internationally renowned photographer was more than a job. Photography was his passion. His artistic and creative outlet. He'd photographed many beautiful women over the years, they were a dime a dozen, but none of them had what Cooper had. She'd been chosen for this op specifically because she was a crack sharpshooter, but God only knew, it was her physical appearance that had proven to be her biggest selling point.
She smelled of roses.
Damn it.
"Have we had an update on Raazaq's location in the past six hours?"
"We know where he's going and when he'll be there." Good. Mind on business. Safest that way. Kane cut into his steak. Nice and bloody. Just the way he liked it.
"Are we still going to intercept?"
"Plans have changed." He motioned to her plate. "Eat. I'll fill you in."
She picked up her fork and resumed eating. "Go."
He told her the new plan, changed because of what had happened the day before. When he was done, and it had taken him all of four minutes, he rose from the table and crossed the room to retrieve a small bag.
"I bet if you read War and Peace you'd summarize it in a minute thirty," AJ said waspishly. "You could give Cliffs Notes a run for their money."
He returned to stand behind her. "I gave you the salient points."
She twisted around to see what he was doing. Kane made a motion with his hand for her to show him the back of her head. She sighed and obediently lowered her head. He began unplaiting her hair. "There's more to life than salient points, you know. Color, drama—"
"This is a mission," he informed her coldly. "You don't require either color or drama to do your job. In fact, the least amount of color and the absence of drama are preferable. Every legal avenue has already been attempted," he told her, annoyed because if he were on his own, like he wanted to be, he wouldn't be standing here smelling her hair and explaining himself. He sifted through the warm, wet, rose-scented strands to find the wound.
"Raazaq is slippery as hell and has, thus far, managed to elude every effort to capture him. This needs antiseptic."
"Done."
Strands of her long hair clung to his hands and wrists like licks of a flame as he inspected the lump on the back of her head. The jagged cut was already healing but he'd keep an eye on it. His fingers sifted through the fiery strands for a brief moment. He was almost surprised to find her hair cool to the touch, not blazing hot.
Kane removed his fingers from her hair with a silent curse. "You'll live."
"Good to know," AJ said wryly. She pushed her empty plate out of the way and reached for her coffee cup as he resumed his seat opposite her. She didn't do what any other woman would've done: mess with her hair. "Why did he target the school?"
"The daughters of high-profile heads of state from all over the world attended San Souci. He demanded the U.S. free the hundred members of the Freedo
m Fighter cell we're holding. The U.S. refused. Three of the girls were daughters of members of the British Parliament, another a minor princess. Thirty-two of the kids were from the States. Everyone wants swift retaliation. The United Nations just passed a resolution—get him, but keep it by the books."
She gave him a short smile and a nod of admiration. "You said on the flight over that's what they'd say."
Kane nodded. "They're predictable, I'll give them that." Security forces all over the world were aware Kane was heading up a team to go in after Raazaq. While the world champed at the bit for news reports of official inquiries, T-FLAC was doing its job. Covertly.
"Sure. Easy for them to say. Chaos reigns and we all get wet," AJ said, helping herself to another cup of fragrant coffee. "Do we know where he is now?"
"Just received confirmation. Moving south. Slowly."
"Looking over his left shoulder for us?"
"Enough clues were left that he'll think we were just one of a multitude of enemies. He'll be watching his back, but not for us. Luckily for the good guys, everybody wants a piece of Raazaq's ass and he knows it. The son of a bitch has more enemies than Satan."
"I hate to point this out, now that I'm back in the game, but his people will certainly recognize me when we come face-to-face. How will I pull that off?"
"I seriously doubt you'll be made. There was too much action, too far away. Your most recognizable features are your eyes and your hair. Your head was covered, your face and hair were masked by the sand and dust. The guys chasing us were low on the food chain, not hired for their observation skills."
She relaxed. Good. This could still be salvaged. "Did intel fill you in on why he's going to Fayoum in the first place? It's just a small oasis, a green smudge in the desert, isn't it?"
