She rubbed her temple and turned the idea over in her mind. Jeremiah had never offered to help her in the field. “No,” she said. “When too many spooks gather, they give off a smell. And I can’t afford to raise anyone’s suspicion. I need to work solo. You can send George elsewhere and thank him for me.”
“Whoa Sadie. George is a good man; he could be your silent deadly shadow.” One of Jeremiah’s favorite lines.
“No, I can do this better alone. And it will be safer for me.” Her hands felt clammy. “Will you give Sebastian clearance?” Why did this feel like a daughter asking her father’s permission to go to borrow the family car?
After a heavily pregnant pause, enough for quadruplets to be born, he answered, “Your call,” and clicked off.
“Good bye to you too.” She stared at her phone. Definitely not a happy man.
***
Sebastian buzzed her into his building and she took her time climbing the narrow winding staircase to his apartment. How could she explain herself? She could state the facts: “Hi, I’m an American spook.” Too weird. She smiled. How about, “I’m not really a thief, or a smuggler. I’m just your run of the mill James Bond.” Her stomach clenched as she supressed a giggle. Nah, sounds too much like a television commercial for a silly show. She could say, “I didn’t want to lie to you Sebastian but…” That wouldn’t work either. They both knew she meant to lie and was damn good at it. That’s why she’d come, to clear through the lies and see where that left them.
With no prepared line, she took a deep breath and raised her hand to knock on his door, when it opened.
Sebastian’s broad shoulders filled the space of the doorway. His soft blue eyes met hers and caught. For the first time in her life she understood the phrase ‘her heart skipped a beat’. In that moment she knew with certainty it didn’t matter what cover she hid under. He’d find her. His truth shone in his eyes. It didn’t matter to him if she were a thief, smuggler or spy. None of that mattered. What they had went much deeper. Her insides quivered.
A warm smile spread across his face making her body hum. He simply and completely cared for her. His sincerity hit her like a mega-ton bomb and her stomach dropped three floors back down to ground level.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have come,” she said.
Again her feet did the thinking and she walked into his apartment. With a glance she took it in. An eight foot statue of Eros stood by the door. Modern paintings spread across the far wall. Leather furniture. Restored old wooden flooring. The smell of espresso. She turned back to face him.
“I’m glad you came,” he said. “It’s time we were honest with each other.”
“You’ve been honest all along. It’s me who hasn’t.”
“Tell me you had a good reason.” He placed his enormous hand on her back just above her butt and guided her to the sofa. His strong and confident touch sent a tingling current of pleasure through her body. To be cared for by a man like him, would be like a dream she’d never dared dream come true.
She sat down and he sat beside her. “Tell me your story,” he said.
“You can’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you, or I might just have to kill you.” She used a flat voice.
He started to laugh, but then stopped when she gave him a no-nonsense stare. His eyes widened and the skin around the corners crinkled with concern.
“I’ve never been an ordinary girl.” Scratch that. “I would like to be normal for you, but…”
Sebastian took her hand in his. “I never liked normal.”
That’s a good thing. The warmth of his touch calmed her. She took a deep breath. “I grew up the skinny daughter of a single alcoholic mom in Seattle, won a modelling competition and landed in New York at fourteen. I met Jonathon, married the louse at sixteen and then divorced him six long months later.”
“It’s hard for me to imagine you with him. But then it’s hard for me to imagine you with any man other than me.”
The certainty of his voice stilled her. How could he be so sure of his feelings when they hardly knew each other? Yet she felt sure too. She took another breath. “I liked my life as a model, but it never really satisfied me. You know, like an artist without paint thing.” She figured he’d get that analogy.
He nodded. “So you decided to spice up your life by stealing?”
“No, not exactly. When I was twenty I was approached by the CIA and became…”
“The CIA?” he interrupted her. His back straightened and he peered down at her.
“There is only one. Anyway. Nine years ago I began to work for them. Modelling is my cover.”
The smile started on the left edge of his face and spread right across. “I knew you were one of the good guys.”
“I love the work. I get to do some good in this fucked up world. As you know, there’s a thrill to taking down a bad guy that’s hard to explain.”
“And you excel at it.”
She nodded.
“But it’s dangerous.” The crinkle lines around his eyes deepened.
She shrugged. “The way I figure it, the better I do my job, the less danger I put myself in. Mostly I’m sent in to watch someone, or gather information. Sometimes I’m told to steal something like a flash drive. I’m no assassin or big time spy. I’m just one of a large number of small operatives used to gather intel. But I’m good at it.”
Sebastian traced the side of her face with his fingers sending a current of heat through to her toes. “And how are you connected to the looted art ring?”
“Bakari al-Sharif, CIA code name Anubis, is collecting ancient Egyptian amulets. He’s a power hungry maniac. Chatter on the Internet suggests that he has a big heist planned for New York’s Met Museum of Art. My job is to find out all I can about his plans, so we can stop him.”
Sebastian cocked a brow.
“I’ve made some progress.” Sadie gave him a brief rundown of her relationship with Delilah and how she was getting close to her target.
Sebastian didn’t comment, or stop her as she told him the whole story.
“So that’s why I lied. I’m sorry I deceived you,” she said. For whatever reason, she wanted to be honest with him.
He took her hand in his and the room fell into silence. Deep and loud silence that echoed in her heart. She implored him with her eyes to say something. Anything.
After a moment that felt like a century he said: “I don’t know what to say.”
“Well,” she paused trying not to get lost in his eyes. Sweet Jesus he had the bluest eyes. “You could tell me how you feel about what I just told you.”
His full lips pulled into his rogue smile, the one that made her clit tingle.
“I’m not so good with words,” he said. “They always fail me. And in English it’s worse.” He exhaled slowly. “When I look at you I feel pulled. It’s a deep primal feeling like a tide or current that can’t be denied. It’s like you… touch my soul.” He leaned in and covered her mouth with his.
With the touch of his lips on hers, her body ignited with passion. Her locked-away desire for him broke through her defenses. Her mind could not comprehend how she’d developed such deep feelings for a man she hardly knew, but her heart knew she had.
Her mind shut down. She wanted him, and she wanted him now. Her pulse quickened as he pulled her closer into his embrace. She pulled on his back in response and with one quick twist he lay her down beneath him. Looking up at him she laughed. He’d taken her by surprise again.
After a long slow kiss, he sat up and tugged on the bottom of her sweatshirt. It flew over her head. A second later her bra fell to the floor. The cold air tightened her nipples. Her breathing increased. His hands reached for her. Her heart thundered.
She didn’t think anything could pound louder than her heart, but the loud banging sound coming from Sebastian’s door caught her attention. She froze. He stopped and looked at his entrance way.
“Sebastian. I’ve got to talk to you.” A man’s voice came t
hrough the wood.
He looked at Sadie with apology written across his rugged features. “It’s Seamus, Interpol.”
By the time Sebastian made it to the door, she’d thrown her shirt back on, tossed her hair back over her shoulders and squished her bra as best she could between the cushions in Sebastian’s sofa. Any dolt would know what they’d been up to, but that didn’t matter. Panting and hot all over she got up to stand beside Sebastian. She needed to know what Interpol had to say.
Seamus strode into the room, Xander at his heels. Great a convening of the three Muskateers.
When Xander saw Sadie he hesitated and then turned around to face Sebastian. “A body turned up in the canal.”
Her gut clenched. Bodies turn up in the canal all the time. She knew the stats. Most of them were men with their flies open, having fallen into the canal half-baked when they took a leak. A dead body didn’t have to have anything to do with her or her op. It didn’t. And she certainly didn’t want it to. All the same, she swallowed hard, not wanting to follow where her gut wanted to take her. She waited.
“It’s Delilah Sawatski and she’s mutilated.” He turned to look at Sadie.
Going on auto-pilot she didn’t blink. She walked up to Sebastian, kissed him gently but meaningfully on the lips and walked past him to the door. “I’ll be in touch.”
***
After Sadie left Seamus showed Sebastian pictures of Delilah’s bloated body. “You have to tell us what you know about Sadie and let her go.”
Sebastian looked Seamus in the eye. “Trust me, I’ve got this one.”
“Are you fucking out of your mind? She’s got you by the balls. Do you think I don’t know what we interrupted? She’s crooked right down to her pretty polished toe nails and her partner in crime just turned up missing body parts.”
“She’s not dangerous.” Well not in the way Seamus meant.
“Seriously man, you’ve lost all sense of reality.”
“I…I do like her, but…”
Xander spoke up: “Like? I think we all know it’s more than that. You need to stand back and let us follow her.”
Sebastian’s chest tightened. No way in hell he’d let any other man protect her. “No.”
“It’s not a suggestion buddy. I’m ordering you to stay out of this,” Seamus said. Interpol and the Amsterdam police will take over. We need to get to the bottom of this mess. I bet that woman is up to her pencilled eyebrows in stolen art and deception. I don’t want you hurt.”
“You want me out of your way.” Seb’s gut churned. By nature, he was slow to anger, but when it happened the world had to watch out. His face heated up, his pulse roared and his fists clenched.
Xander’s eyes widened. “Buddy it’s for your own good. Her friends play too rough for a civilian like you. If you’d seen the woman’s body….”
The caring in his best friend’s voice steadied Sebastian’s temper. But he couldn’t tell him all he knew about Sadie. He couldn’t tell him that she fought on the same side as them. He’d die before he’d betray her. But he could let them think he would stand aside.
After a heavy silence he said, “I know what I’m doing.”
27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Could she have done something to help Deliliah? The question played over and over in her mind like a broken vinyl record. The buzz of the street enveloped her as she meandered through people like a goldfish in a bowl darting to avoid collision, but never making contact with anyone, even with her eyes. The stale smell of the air added to a feeling of emotional suffocation. But she wouldn’t give into it.
Her old mantra, “the world’s fucked, but I can survive,” popped into her mind like a lifeline, a resonance that went back to her early years at home with her alcoholic mom. After her funny bone wore down by the gristle of life, she clung on to that one truth. It gave her distance from the ugliness of the world. It kept her emotionally afloat. “The world is fucked…”
Did Delilah have to die? And worse did she have to be mutilated? Sadie held back the tears threatening her eyes. She could still remember the zany woman’s high pitched laugh, her love of rot-gut wine and her bawdy sense of humor. Sadie’s fists clenched. One more reason to get Anubis.
Once she’d secured her room, she pulled out her cell phone and punched in Jeremiah’s line.
After he picked up, she said, “Delilah’s dead.”
He paused. “The report just crossed my desk. This op is getting too dangerous.”
“Like hell. I’ll get this asshole, if it’s the last thing I do.”
Silence. Her heart thundered in her chest and sweat trickled all along her spine. Her face heated up. One of the reasons she’d excelled at being a spy was her ability to shut down her emotions and get ruthless. And now was the time she needed to do just that.
But the emotions weren’t going away.
Silence.
“Jeremiah?”
“What’s going on with you? Is there something I should know? You seem… different.”
“I’m not quitting.”
“I didn’t think you would, but for the record, I advised you to do so, and…”
“I didn’t tell you everything about Bakari’s visit,” she interrupted.
“Tell me now.”
She told him about being nude, needing a towel, watching the man’s eyes hunger for her. “The asshole’s pants showed an erection when he left. I can get close to him. I know it.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“Whatever it takes.”
“Sadie, you’ve never slept with a mark before. Anubis is not to be toyed with. You won’t be able to tease and run.”
“He’s a man. I can handle him.” She wiped away the perspiration beading above her top lip.
Jeremiah sighed. “I don’t like the looks of this end game. The pieces aren’t covered. Too much is at risk.”
Sadie had made up her mind, so she said nothing.
“You know in Cairo, where he grew up,” Jeremiah talked slowly annunciating every syllable carefully for some reason, “eighty percent of girls are castrated before they become women—eighty percent. It’s not a law. It’s a custom that girls willingly succumb to. It is a barbaric belief. Most women there are treated like brood mares and nothing more. His interest in you is purely…”
“Erotic, carnal… whatever,” she said. “I can handle him.”
Silence. “You’re my best operative.”
“Look Jeremiah. You need to listen to me. I’m your protégé and I know you care about me like a daughter, but you need to stand back and let me do my job. Male operatives don’t stop at seducing their marks. I can do this. I can give that beast a night of pleasure like he’s never seen. Trust me. I know my way around a man. I’ll have him begging for more. And I’ll cuddle up to his side like a sweet little kitten and show no mercy.” The same cold chill that had grabbed her when she’d met Bakari returned, but she shook it off.
“Keep me posted.”
“Hold on… I’m getting a text.” Her other cell phone jingled. She read it out loud so Jeremiah could hear it: “Tomorrow noon. My man will pick you up and bring you to me.” Check. This meeting could be safe and informative. She knew Jeremiah couldn’t pull her back from it, not when the CIA wanted Anubis so bad.
“Sadie.” Sadness saturated Jeremiah’s usually inscrutable voice. “You seem hell bent on getting this guy. I want you to think before you jump into bed with him. Sleeping with a man like him is not something you can wash off with soap. It’ll slither into your pours and lie deep beneath your skin. Inside you. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about. Sex is never just sex, especially for a woman like you.”
“The Met Museum.” That’s all she needed to say.
“I’ll give you forty-eight hours. If you find something in that time, you can stay in place. Otherwise, abort the mission. I don’t want him toying with you.”
“Oh don’t you worry. It will be me playing him.” She
thought of Delilah again and her anger rose so quickly she could hardly stay on the phone.
Jeremiah went silent for a moment. He didn’t appreciate her humor today. “If you go into his lair in Amsterdam, New York, Cairo or wherever, I can’t protect you. His defences are too thick and there are,” he hesitated, “political considerations that stop me. “You’ll be on your own.” He hung up.
28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
After Jeremiah clicked off, Sadie pulled her suitcase out of the closet and filled it with her things. She needed to move fast if she wanted to stay out of Sebastian’s reach. He’d want to see her after the news his friends gave him. He’d want her to stand down.
And she couldn’t.
Maybe it was a damn character flaw and one that would get her killed, but she just couldn’t walk away from this op now. A man as evil and cunning as Anubis had to be stopped and she had the skills and power to do it. Even Achilles had a heel and she was determined to find Bakari’s.
No, she’d never slept with a mark before, but she wasn’t a virgin. She could do this. That damn cold chill flowed through her body again, but she stopped it with her anger. The image of the Egyptian exhibit at the New York City museum floated in her mind. Half the collection had been donated by private collectors; half had been taken in archaeological digs in the first half of the last century. The beauty of the ancient art work was breathtaking and irreplaceable.
Unzipping her bag again, she took the ankh out of its hiding place in the lining. Holding it in her hands gave her an odd sense of strength. She had something al-Sharif wanted. The ancient Egyptians thought amulets had magical power.
She’d never been one to believe in dead rabbit’s feet or any other hokey metaphysical crap, but she had to admit this thing made her hands warm. It probably connected in her mind with her fear of Anubis. Yeah, that was probably it.
Covert Danger Page 15
