It Happens in Threes

by Denise Robbins

  “Please, call me George.” She accepted his suggestion with an incline of her head and a smile.

  “I can get you a copy of the dossier we have on Nicolas La Rue, including photo. That should clarify whether it’s your old mentor or not. As for the danger, there is always a certain amount in any assignment. But, if we plan it appropriately we can take out most of the risks. Do you know how to handle a weapon or know self-defense?”

  “Not really. I did some trap and skeet shooting with a shotgun when I was in college. I’ve never taken any self-defense courses, but I know a few tricks thanks to a college friend.” Her grin was huge as she thought of how those few tricks had let her stomp on a secret agent Neanderthal’s foot and kick him in the groin. Secret agent Jake. “Would it be close physical danger?”

  Standing in front of the large windows overlooking the garden, Michael whipped back around to answer. “Of course the physical danger would be close. Is there any other kind? That’s why it’s better to send in a professional, someone trained for this. Come on, George, this was a terrible idea.”

  “Is it something I can get trained in while I work on the program?” she asked George, ignoring Michael and his sarcasm.

  “As a matter of fact, Mickey can train you. He’s the best I’ve got.”

  Nice compliment. “Okay. If you supply me with the dossier and let me read it, I’ll give you my answer. But it sounds like lots of fun.”

  A hint of irritation touched Michael’s face. Before George ushered him out of the study and left her alone, she saw him roll his eyes.

  * * * *

  The complete report, a cold soda, and George’s office all to herself, Ruby curled up on the leather sofa and read about Nicolas La Rue, her one time mentor and friend, now international thief. After evaluating the dossier from cover to cover, she knew more about Nicolas than she should ever know about anyone, or ever want to know.

  The name of his consulting business, Security Concepts, had its corporate headquarters located in Oahu with satellite offices in California, Boston, and Japan. His company dealt strictly with International Financial Services organizations. She found that odd, but imagined it to be very lucrative.

  His legal residence on Oahu, Nico owned smaller homes in California and Boston and a vacation place on Kona and in Colombia, South America. He had been married, but his wife died from cancer after only two years. Now he donated generously to the American Cancer Society and any other cancer organization. In particular, he donated to more aggressive overseas research facilities. An avid scuba diver, Nicolas owned his own dive boat, but still liked to go out with the local shops on occasion. Remembering he liked pampering, she figured the locals catered to him.

  Finished reading, Ruby opened the study doors and invited the Director and Michael to come back in. After they took their seats, she announced her decision.

  “Director—George, I’ve decided to help. Now what?”

  Michael started to interrupt her, but Ruby silenced him by putting up her hand palm out to his face. “Talk to the hand.”

  He glowered at her.

  “Excellent. Welcome aboard.” George pumped her hand. “We’ll make you a contract agent. We don’t have all the details worked out yet, but we have an outline of a plan. The two of you will go back to the Keys, start the development of the software, and train you in up-close combat. I honestly don’t think it will be necessary, but all agents are instructed in self-defense maneuvers. If there is anything else you require Mickey knows how to get in touch with me. When the plan is final you’ll get the details. We appreciate your help.” He winked at her.

  Despite the conflict in the room, George attempted to put her at ease.

  “Mickey, you take good care of this little lady. And don’t give her any trouble.”

  In an attempt to hide her smile, she lowered her head.

  “We’ll talk soon George,” Michael told him.

  “Let’s go.”

  He turned, paused to allow Ruby to step in front of him. She sensed the fury seething under his skin, but he wouldn’t let it erupt—yet.

  * * * *

  The flight to Miami was thick with silence, the tension almost stifling in the little Cessna. The drive back to Key Largo in the rental car was no better. Michael still hadn’t spoken a word. His face reddened from his obvious irritation and his knuckles turned white against the black leather wrapped steering wheel.

  In an attempt to ignore his sour attitude, Ruby remained silent. Forehead against the passenger window, she stared through the pane of glass, watching the palm trees and lights whiz by.

  At the house, she ran to the door. Unlocking it, she went straight to her bedroom where she put away her briefcase. When she turned, Ruby found herself staring at the imposing figure framed in the doorway, dark and menacing.

  In an attempt to look just as threatening, she thrust her hands on her hips and twisted her lips into a caustic smile. “What?”

  “Don’t give me that crap. You know what.”

  “Look. I ended one relationship with a man who wanted to dictate what I should or shouldn’t do. I will not let you do same.”

  “Good thing we don’t have a relationship.” His words stung as if slapped without physical contact. Squeezing her eyes shut, Ruby willed the pain away. She wouldn’t let him see how much he hurt her.

  “You need to bail out of this assignment.”

  Her eyes snapped open at his command.

  “I will do no such thing. Need I remind you? It was your idea to get me involved. And by the way, I appreciate it. Secret Agent was one job I never considered.”

  Before she could blink, Michael’s strong hands grasped her shoulders. Oops. Her smart mouth set him off. Would she never learn? His fingers bit into her skin, not hurting, but enough that she couldn’t get free.

  “Listen to me, for once.” They stood head to head, his voice low and restrained. “This is too dangerous. I don’t want to be responsible for your pretty little butt getting injured.”

  His face cupped in her hands, she tried to placate him with a soothing voice. “Michael, listen. George said you’re the best and you’ll train me to protect myself. I’m sure whatever cover you come up with will be bulletproof.”

  “Yeah, but will you be?” He pressed his cheek into her hand. “I couldn’t look mom and dad in the face if anything happened to you.”

  Her parents knew Ruby made her own decisions. She figured Michael was more worried he wouldn’t be able to look at himself in the mirror if something went dead wrong.

  Staring hard into deep blazing blue eyes, she saw concern and an edge of fury. “Then don’t let anything.”

  “Why do you have to be so damn stubborn?”

  “I’m stubborn? You’re just a pigheaded, controlling, chauvinistic male.”

  “And you’re an impulsive, antagonistic, persistent, passionate, pain in the ass.” Her mouth opened to respond, but the words she wanted to scream at him wouldn’t come.

  “You’d better get some sleep because training starts early in the morning.”

  From the smirk on his face, she got the distinct impression he looked forward to torturing her.

  “And after your grueling training, you start developing the application.”

  Grueling? Now she was certain he planned to make her wish she never agreed to get involved. Ha! She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  Hands fisted at his sides, Michael whirled away, slammed the door shut behind him.

  “Thanks for the job, Michael,” she yelled. Her words sweet with disdain, dripped like honey from a dipper at his retreating backside.

  Halting his retreat, he contemplated going back and changing her mind.

  With exasperation and frustration, he streaked fingers through his hair and stomped away. Damn! He was not happy about the situation. It was an unexpected complication and his fault. He inadvertently placed Ruby smack in the middle of his investigation. So much for trying to be the good guy. Since it
was his stupid scheme, he would have to live with it, make it right.

  A cool head and professional distance were required. At least until her stint as a contract agent and this mission were over. After that...

  * * * *

  Dumbfounded, Ruby stood motionless in the middle of the room, watching through the glass panes of the bedroom door Michael’s swift departure and his sudden stop. Uh oh! Had she gone too far, she wondered, her lower lip gripped between her teeth. She waited for the shit to hit the fan. When he continued to walk without comment, his footsteps thundering down the hall, air exhaled from her lungs in a slow hiss.

  The man was infuriating. She spun around, throwing her arms up in disgust. And women were supposed to be the indecisive sex. Ha! He seduced her, abandoned her without a word, offered her a job, and now warned her against it. Was that fickle?

  Curses tumbled from her lips. When her eyes focused, she saw the remnants of their lovemaking in the tangled dusty rose sheets. She wrenched the bedding off, tripped over it as she tried to move, and kicked her feet out of frustration and seething anger. Heels sailed under the bed.

  In swift rough motions, Ruby changed the bed linens. Once done, she stripped out of her clothes and without her normal care tossed them in the closet, too upset to give a damn about neatness. Almost forgetting about her shoes, she crouched down by the bed to look for them.

  Just as she grabbed a two-inch heel, Ruby saw the piece of paper. A quick disturbing thought crossed her mind. Her hand halted and trembled. All she thought of were the notes Thomas left her. Blowing out a slow breath, she reached for the note, sliding it out from under the bed.

  Relief swept through her when she realized it wasn’t from Thomas. It was from Michael. He hadn’t abandoned her last night. He had left her a note. ‘Try not to miss me too much. See you soon. Love ya!’ A smile twitched her lips as a surge of happiness flowed through her. Guess he wasn’t a rat bastard after all...today.

  Crawling beneath the covers, Ruby stretched, running slender fingers across the bed. Inhaling, she smelled the subtle evocative scent of their desire. The intoxicating musk of him overwhelmed her, made her heart flutter, and immersed her in memories of last night.

  A shiver of delight coursed through her as she dreamed of Michael’s touch. He promised to make it special. His masterful seduction surpassed her wildest fantasy. He flooded her senses with waves of ecstasy that rippled through her like the sway of the ocean.

  Sensually disturbed and exhausted, her lids slipped down over her eyes.

  * * * *

  The door slammed behind him. A torpedo of anxiety and hot anger trembled through his system. The woman infuriated him. Why did she insist on making this hard for him? He made a mistake. He wanted to help her, not put her in a position out in the field. He figured she would sit behind a desk in front of a computer. Selfishly, he’d hoped it would give him more opportunity to see her, talk with her, and spend time with her.

  Instead, she would take a risk due to his recommendation and going to confront Nicolas La Rue, a thief of hearts—a dangerous thief more than willing to use a gun. Michael wasn’t comfortable with how Ruby described her relationship with Nicolas, her mentor. He had the distinct impression there was more to it and he didn’t like it.

  He also didn’t like the unmistakable, sudden sensation of danger. His skin crawled. He moved further into the room, stopped, and looked around. Something wasn’t quite right. Somebody had been in his room. The coin box he always left on the left corner of the bureau had been disturbed.

  The last time he had this sensation was in Bangkok. He and Alex were on a covert operation to thwart a Russian hacker, Gorshkov, trying to sell tactical nuclear weapons to the latest terrorist in Pakistan.

  As part of the operation, Michael’s team set up an undercover computer security company. Posing as an employee of the company, Alex arranged a face-to-face meeting in Bangkok with the Russian. During the meeting, Gorshkov discussed his hacking prowess and took responsibility for various hacking incidents and nuclear weapons activities. Unbeknownst to the Russian they recorded the meeting on audio and video tape.

  At the conclusion of the discussion they arrested Gorshkov without incident.

  After securing the arms ship Gorshkov used to transport his weapons, Michael returned to his hotel room. He recognized the warning shiver that ran down his spine, the eerie feeling that someone watched him. A quick look over his shoulder and he saw nothing. He turned back and caught a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye.

  He slammed the door against the face and stomach of Ivanov, Gorshkov’s partner who hid behind it. The plaintive cry sounded like the wail of a tortured prisoner. When Alex showed up unexpectedly, the two of them subdued the intruder.

  Something niggled at Michael’s mind after that incident, a twinge that Alex’s timing had been damned convenient. Too convenient. But he couldn’t put his finger on anything specific so he let it go.

  Michael knew no one hid in his room now. But his trained eyes searched for the source of his uneasiness, the unknown thing that caused the little hairs on the back of his neck to stand at attention. Crossing to the dresser, he opened the coin box. Nothing missing. After straightening it back into its ninety degree angle, he opened his sock drawer.

  Arranged in the drawer were socks, grouped by color, but not too neatly, just enough so anyone who rummaged around in it would automatically put everything back too precisely. It was that way now. A piece of blue paper not exactly hidden, stuck out, drew his attention.

  Slipping it out from under the dark material, he read the words scrawled on it. ‘Stay away from her or I’ll make sure you know how it feels to lose her.’

  Unable to speak for what seemed an eternity, Michael crumpled the message in his fist, squeezed it tight, and bolted out of his room and down the hall.

  At her door, he stopped dead. Heart pounding in his chest, he released a sigh of relief. One hand on the doorframe, he stared at the sleeping beauty. The woman that he—that he—cared for more than any other snuggled safely under the covers. Damn! He cared too much. He didn’t want to. Shouldn’t.

  Rage and fury replaced relief. It boiled up in him like a thrashing wave. “If I ever get a hold of him, not only will he walk crooked, but he’ll talk funny.” Nobody was going to threaten his woman.

  In silence, he checked her room, securing the door and windows and checked to make sure she remained safe. Then he did the same with the rest of the house. Returning to his bedroom, Michael retrieved his gun from the duffle. After assuring himself it was loaded, he placed it in the night stand with the safety on.

  He considered standing guard outside her room, but decided against it. Knowing he wasn’t going to sleep well and would hear the slightest noise, Michael stretched out on top of the covers with his hands clasped behind his head, one eye closed.

  ELEVEN

  Prepared for Michael to make good on his threat of a grueling workout, Ruby dressed in her favorite Saucony running shoes, glad she had the presence of mind to include them in packing for her unplanned trip to Florida.

  Hair pulled into a pony-tail, Ruby eyed her reflection in the mirror and wondered. Was she crazy for taking a job like this? Certifiable? Putting her life in jeopardy? What did she know about the spy business or undercover work? Exactly nothing.

  Before she could answer these burning questions, her tormentor bellowed.

  “Ruby! Let’s go.”

  “Isn’t he cheery this morning,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes, and sauntered out of the bedroom.

  In the kitchen, Michael leaned against the green Corian counter, his hips encased in a pair of black running shorts, looking like a tasty dish. He gave the impression of being relaxed as he drank his morning coffee. Then she glimpsed his eyes. She thought of the ocean. On the surface everything was calm, but underneath, just below the placid blue surface lived a churning torrent of tension.

  “Have some coffee?”

  “No thanks.�
�� Coffee didn’t usually make her jittery, but in her current state of anxiousness, she didn’t think she needed the added effect of caffeine. Her nerves felt like crossed hot wires, sizzling and electrifying as enthusiasm charged through her for the first time in a long spell.

  “If you don’t want any coffee then let’s start by taking a short five mile run.” She gasped at the distance then realized he wanted that reaction. “I guess the torture has begun?”

  He grinned without apology.

  The morning air already humid, they left the house heading toward the Marriott Key Resort, about three miles down the road. She matched his pace stride for stride until they changed direction. Bearing right, proceeding behind the beige stucco hotel they reached the beach.

  Her muscles felt the sting of pain and her breathing became a little more labored. Michael’s breathing and strides remained slow and even. Those legs she admired thirty minutes ago now goaded her. The way his sinewy muscles pumped and flexed annoyed her.

  Even though it was difficult to hold a conversation at this point, she was dying to ask a question. “Why does Director Trent call you Mickey?”

  The sun’s rays flickered off his eyes as he glanced at her, curious. “What do you mean? That’s what all my friends call me.” He said those two sentences without losing a step or struggling for breath, which irritated her.

  “That’s exactly my point,” she panted, “You refer to him as a friend.”

  “Well, he’s been my supervisor and mentor since I first joined the agency ten years ago. We’ve had a couple of close calls here and there, and he’s looked out for me. And vice versa. When you save a guy’s life you become good friends.”

  “Who saved who and what happened?”

  “That’s a story for another time.”

  “Okay, what about the guy whose place I’m taking on this endeavor? Who is he? Where is he? Have you worked with him before?”

  “Yes, I’ve worked with him. He’s not here. That’s why you are.” His entire demeanor, his clipped responses, and the set of his jaw muscles, told Ruby the subject was closed. He swatted her on the fanny. “Sprint the last few yards. Go!”