Dark Deception

by Zoe Blake

  “I won’t love you. I’m warning you now. I am absolutely determined never to fall for that trick again.”

  Paine threw his head back with laughter before lowering his lips to hers. Giving her a hard kiss, he said, “That’s it. Just keep throwing those challenges at me.”

  “If you aren’t the most exasperating, hard-headed—”

  Her rant was cut short when she saw three crimson beads of light start to dance across his chest. Gun sights.

  “Paine!” she screamed.

  Throwing her body forward, Mirage knocked him off balance. They both tumbled to the floor just as the wood mantel over the fireplace exploded in a shower of splinters. Paine grabbed the blanket and threw it over her form to protect her from the wood shards. Covering her body with his own, he reached out with his right arm to flip the sofa on its side, dragging her behind its protective bulk. The crimson laser sights danced around the room searching for their target. Another bullet took out the only lamp in the small cottage’s living room.

  Mirage stayed low to the ground. “It’s Pearly. He found us,” she gasped, her breath short from shock.

  Paine’s brow wrinkled as he stared at the laser dots. He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Pearly works alone. There are at least three shooters.”

  There was another volley of shots. A vase on the bookshelf at the end of the room shattered.

  “He’s also a hell of a better shot and doesn’t waste unnecessary ammo,” drawled Paine.

  Mirage helped him turn over the heavy, mahogany coffee table and place it in front of the overturned sofa. They crouched behind its smaller surface.

  “Maybe he brought help because it’s you?” offered Mirage right before she covered her ears as another round of bullets lodged in the wall and broke the glass on a simple daisy print by the front door.

  His mouth quirked up in a smile. “Why, Mirage, the threat of death does wonders for your disposition. I do believe that is the first time you have complimented me.”

  “Will you please be serious? Someone is shooting at us!” threw Mirage over her shoulder as she crawled on her knees to peek around the sofa’s edge.

  Paine gave her a slap on her bare ass. “I knew you’d start to soften towards me.”

  “If you don’t knock it off and come up with a plan, I’m going to throw you in front of one of those bullets,” stormed Mirage even as her cheeks pinked from his teasing remarks and the feel of his hand on her ass.

  “The plan is you crawl over to that door there. It leads down into the root cellar where it will be safer. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  Paine crouched low and made his way to the kitchen. Mirage fumed. I guess he assumes I’m going to obey without question, she thought as she followed after him on her hands and knees, staying low, as she awkwardly clutched at the blanket over her shoulders.

  As she rounded the corner, Paine was fishing something out of a kitchen drawer. She figured he would go for the knives, the only possible weapon, which made it all that more confusing when he drew out a corkscrew. It was the kind with a small wooden handle which ran perpendicular to a vicious looking silver screw.

  “What are you going to do with that?”

  “God dammit, Mira. I thought I told you to go down into the root cellar,” he barked.

  “Yes, and I’m marvelous at taking orders. What are you going to do with that?” asked Mirage, unfazed by his anger as she nodded toward the corkscrew.

  “Take care of business.” His voice a dark monotone.

  “Don’t you want a knife?”

  “No. Now do as I say. I won’t be worried about you while I go out there.”

  “You’re not going to kill them are you?”

  After a long pause, there was another spray of bullets. This time more sporadic. It was as if they were getting impatient and decided to just pepper the whole house with bullets and hoped the occupants inside died of lead poisoning.

  His blue eyes seemed to darken and harden. “They shot at you. Put my woman in danger. Yes, I’m going to kill them.”

  Mirage was startled by the possessive fierceness of his words. He almost had her believing he actually cared for her. More unsettled by that thought than the bullets whizzing by her head, Mirage turned to find the door to the root cellar just as he was unlatching a window by the side of the house. She watched as he slipped one leg over the sill, hugging the wall, then rolled over the other side, slipping away into the darkness.

  “Be careful, Paine,” she whispered to the dark shadows beyond.

  Unable to bear being down in the cold, dank root cellar without knowing what was happening, Mirage dragged the coffee table in front of her as she huddled in the corner between the wall and the heavy sideboard. She thought about trying to make her way into the bedroom to retrieve her clothes but then thought better of it. As a point of grim humor, she wondered what would be worse, being found dead naked or being found dead in that stupid cat t-shirt. Definitely the cat t-shirt.

  For what seemed an eternity, she watched the macabre dance of three lights across the walls and furniture. There were long pauses and then sometimes a hail of bullets and other times just a single shot or two.

  Then one light disappeared.

  In horror, Mirage looked down her front, expecting to a see the crimson bead of light shining on her. A mark of death.

  There was nothing.

  Then a second red laser dot disappeared.

  Paine was slowly taking the shooters out…one by one.

  Trying to still her ragged breathing, Mirage strained to listen, hoping for a hint of what was taking place outside in the darkness.

  There was the sound of shouting. Then a few shots but none hit the house. It sounded as if the shooter was aiming at something outside. Paine.

  Mirage’s chest clutched at the thought of Paine lying dead in the mud outside. What a dizzying turn of events. Not two weeks ago, she’d wanted nothing more than that man cold in his grave. Now the very thought of it struck her cold.

  Silence.

  Nothing but silence.

  Mirage waited and waited.

  Her head tilted to the right when she heard the soft scrape of a boot outside. Then a metallic click as the front door knob turned. Belatedly, she realized she should have grabbed a knife to use as a weapon of her own. Too late now.

  The door opened.

  Mirage pushed against the wall. Willing herself invisible.

  There was a cautious step inside.

  The creak of an interior door opening, probably to the root cellar. The click of a light switch. A long pause.

  Mirage held her breath.

  The footsteps moved into the living room.

  She ducked her head, trying to curl her body in, to hide behind the overturned coffee table.

  “Here, kitty, kitty.”

  Mirage came flying out of her hiding place and ran straight into his arms. Uncaring as the blanket dropped to her feet, the warmth of his flannel enveloped her as his strong arms closed around her body, she buried her head in his shoulder. The scent of his cologne and the feel of his arms calmed her. One of his hands slipped into her hair as he pulled her closer.

  “Paine. I thought you were dead,” she mumbled against his shirt.

  Paine pulled her away and looked into her eyes. He gave her a reassuring wink. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, baby.” He then gave her a kiss on the forehead. Leaning down, he tossed a small black duffel bag to her. “Put these on. We have to get out of here.”

  Hurriedly taking the bag, Mirage looked inside. It was her clothes from the museum heist earlier. And a gun.

  She picked up the .38. “You had a gun?”

  Paine just nodded.

  “Then why the hell did you use a corkscrew?”

  Paine shrugged his shoulders. “It seemed more sporting that way. Give em a fighting chance.”

  Mirage just shook her head at his arrogance as she gratefully slipped into her own black yoga pants and t
op.

  She watched as Paine surveyed the damage to the cottage. There wasn’t a single wall that didn’t have bullet holes in it. They also seemed to have shot every delicate piece of glass or porcelain in the entire place.

  “Pearly’s going to be pissed.”

  “Because someone jumped on his contract?” asked Mirage.

  “Nope, this was his house.” Paine laughed, throwing an arm over Mirage’s shoulder as they walked to their car hidden off to the side in some brush. Leave it to Paine to do something arrogant and outlandish as breaking into the house of the person who was hunting him down, thought Mirage.

  * * *

  She watched as his phone cast an eerie glow inside his car. The contact he chose said only, Gentleman.

  The phone started to ring.

  Mirage looked at him quixotically. “Is that the Gentleman?”

  Paine nodded as he steered the car around a dark curve with one hand, holding the phone with the other.

  That was the Stephen he meant? His closest friend who had tried to kill him twice?

  Stephen Casse, aka The Gentleman, was a legend. A jewel thief like her but far more brazen. He’d once left a black tie event to rob the mansion next door…still in his tuxedo…before returning to the party, the diamond and emerald necklace tucked in his breast pocket. His current obsession was hunting down the real Hope diamond. Word was the one being displayed in Washington was a fake.

  “Hello, my friend. Still after your little black widow?” buzzed a cultured voice with a thick British accent.

  “My little black widow is here with me now. You’re on speaker. What have you learned?”

  “Mirage? Hello, beautiful. Pleasure to make the acquaintance of anyone who tries to kill Paine,” quipped Stephen good-naturally.

  “It’s nice to meet you as well,” responded Mirage awkwardly.

  “I always wondered. Was that you who made off with that lovely little 200 carat sapphire and diamond necklace from that private bank in Germany?”

  “I…uh…well…” Mirage cast a glance at Paine. “A lady never tells, Stephen.”

  Stephen laughed. “I knew it was you. We should plan a heist together sometime. I’m sure it would be a successful partnership.”

  Mirage watched as Paine frowned. Taking Stephen off speaker phone, he growled, “The only person she will be partnering with is me, you got that?”

  Mirage could still hear Stephen’s chuckle. “You want to keep the little gem all to yourself. I understand.”

  “What have you learned?”

  “Pearly dropped the contract. He’s currently in South Africa. Said he couldn’t kill you because you still owe him twenty bucks from our last poker game.”

  Paine smirked. “He might change his mind when he finds out what happened to his house.”

  Paine related to Stephen the events at the cottage.

  “Well, that brings me to my next point. You have yourself in some hot water, my friend. Remember my warning about The Syndicate?”

  Paine had already suspected who was behind the hit crew. He should have known The Syndicate would find out about his and Mirage’s…disagreement. They had eyes and ears everywhere. It was of no surprise to him that they would try to eradicate both him and Mirage, despite their usefulness to them, before it became a problem dropped on their doorstep.

  Paine nodded. “I thought as much. Not a crack group, though.”

  “They’re scrambling. Not many want to take someone of your reputation on. Figure it’s a suicide mission. So they are sending newbies into the field who don’t know any better.”

  “That won’t last. With my past, they’ll eventually find someone willing to take the risk.”

  “Stay safe. I will let you know if I find out anything else.”

  Mirage didn’t need Paine to tell her. She had overheard.

  The Syndicate now had a contract out to kill both of them.

  Chapter Nine

  Mirage grew thoughtful as they drove off into the night. “I’m sorry I got us into this mess.”

  Paine brushed off her apology. “I’m not.”

  “Really?”

  “I met you during a chaotic disaster; it makes sense I would find you again in the middle of a chaotic disaster.”

  “Hey, it hasn’t been proven yet that I caused that coup in Turkey,” teased Mirage.

  Their laughter broke the tension in the car. Only a pair of criminals would find humor while dealing with their current situation.

  “Do you ever regret it?”

  “Being a thief?”

  Mirage nodded.

  “Nope. First person I ever hit was the man who had been beating on my mom for years. The moment I was big enough, I beat on him.”

  “Your father?”

  Paine’s fingers visibly tightened around the steering wheel. “I don’t like to call him that, but, yeah. Whoever says violence doesn’t solve anything was lying. That piece of shit crawled away and never returned. That’s when I became a thief. Needed to steal to help out my mother and younger brother. I started with cigarettes. I would steal cartons at a time and then sell the individual packs. My stealing gave them both a comfortable and stable life, so, no, I don’t regret it for one moment.”

  Mirage smiled. “Me neither. As far as I see it, all we’re really doing is transferring wealth. Stealing from one filthy rich person to give to another.”

  “Exactly,” agreed Paine.

  “Besides I do my part. The money I get? I launder it through a charity who looks the other way. They take twenty percent.”

  Paine reached over and stroked her thigh. “I knew my little ice queen had a heart in there somewhere.”

  Mirage blushed at his teasing remarks. He really was the most intriguing man. A strange mix of anger and teasing humor. Of violence and tenderness.

  “My name is…Miranda…Miranda Foster,” she whispered. It felt strange to say her real name out loud. Mirage hadn’t uttered her name or been called by it in over fifteen years.

  Paine reached over and pushed a curl behind her ear, before stroking her cheek. “My Mira.”

  “It’s why I freaked when you called me that…it was like you knew who I really was,” she offered, still looking down at her hands, too nervous and unsure to meet his gaze.

  “I always knew who you were Mira. I just didn’t realize I had the right name.”

  Mirage looked into his blue eyes, captivated. The spell was only broken when he had to turn his attention back to the road.

  “Well, Miranda Foster, I’m Paine Darwin and it is a real pleasure to meet you.”

  Mirage felt a stab of disappointment. Summoning up a halfhearted smile, she said, “You don’t have to tell me your real name if you don’t want to. I don’t expect it.”

  “That is my real name. Paine Darwin.”

  “Your mother named you Pain? P.A.I.N.?”

  “The way my mother tells it, it was a very long and painful labor, so it was the first word that popped into her head when the nurse asked my name. And it’s Paine with an ‘e’,” he corrected.

  “Huh. I always just figured it was Pain.”

  “That works too.”

  * * *

  Two hours later, they pulled into a small, one-story hotel in some no name town which was surrounded by trees on two sides and a steep cliff dropping off on the other.

  “We’ll stop here for the night and strategize.”

  “Sounds good,” said Mirage.

  They checked in under an assumed name, Mr. & Mrs. Smythe. Mirage tried to ask for a separate room but that only got her a hard look from Paine.

  After unlocking the door, he stood back and let her pass over the threshold. It was a small, clean room. One bed.

  Mirage hugged her arms around her middle. “I think I’m going to take a nice long hot shower.”

  “Want some company?”

  “Not this time.”

  Mirage walked into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. Lowering th
e toilet seat, she sat down and rubbed her face over her hands. This was her mess. She’d brought this on them both with her petty revenge schemes and misplaced loyalty. Trying to contact The Syndicate and explain would only give away their location. No, she had to go right to the source. Where The Syndicate was based was a closely guarded secret. A secret she learned a few years ago from an operative they’d sent to collect some uncut emeralds she had stolen from the safety deposit box of some Mafia boss in Italy. The operative had been a little too excited to be in Italy and had sampled a little too much of the strong local wine. If she could break into their headquarters, perhaps she could learn something that she could leverage against them for her and Paine’s lives? She would turn the tables on The Syndicate. Use the very skills they hired her for against them.

  There was just one problem. Paine. He probably wouldn’t go for the plan. Too dangerous. Besides, Mirage liked to work alone. She’d caused this mess. She would clean it up.

  Despite her dramatic protestations early, Mirage knew she had lied to him…again. Deceiving him and herself about her feelings for him. Somehow she had already fallen half in love with the man. Perhaps she had always been half in love with him since their instant attraction that night in Istanbul. Normal one-night stands did not leave that much of a lasting impression, in fact, they were usually something a girl tried to forget and quickly.

  Try as she might, she could not shake the memory of Paine. The man was arrogant, bossy and way too intense. He liked to be in control, something she couldn’t stand giving up. They were completely wrong for one another and that was before you factored in her trying to kill him. Everything about them shouldn’t work or make sense and yet…she loved how he teased her. Loved the protective feel of his arms around her. Loved how he didn’t take her crap and gave as well as he got.

  And the sex…holy shit…the sex. It was so many levels of wrong which made it right for them both. Normal, vanilla missionary sex could never cut it for people who lived life on the edge like they did. Sex with Paine had all the elements of a great heist. Anticipation, danger, tension, euphoria. She secretly loved how he bent her to his will, made her beg for the pleasure and pain. The only way she ever would or could be completely submissive was to a strong, dominating man like Paine who took that submission from her by force. She needed to focus on all the reasons why she hated him…on how much he angered her…not the reasons why she was falling in love with him.