by Linda Conrad
The Russian’s face colored with embarrassment as his eyes raked down her tight-fitting zebra-print dress, long legs and strappy sandals. “No, ma’am. But it’s my job.”
She waved him off. “Nonsense. And as for Sheik Zohdi, I would not advise anyone to try taking his weapons. Not if you wish to live to see tomorrow.”
Tarik took that as his cue, eased out of the backseat and stretched his legs. The goon by his door backed up out of his way.
Jass moved a step closer to the villa’s front door, speaking over her shoulder as though she must be obeyed without question. “Take us to see Mr. Eltsin immediately. He will straighten all of this out. I’m sure he does not want to offend one of his best customers.” She sighed devisively. “Oh, and you boys better bring the bags inside.”
Yeah, the lady was good.
Inside the house, Tarik had some trouble keeping his mouth from gaping open. Talk about ostentatious wealth. Crystal chandeliers, which looked as if they belonged in a palace rather than in a villa, hung from forty-foot ceilings. Hand woven Persian carpets adorned the travertine tile floors. A hand-carved, exotic wood staircase soared up three flights in the grand entrance hall.
Everywhere he looked was gold leaf. Gold on the woodwork. Golden goblets and golden threads in plush fabrics.
The Kadir family had done well in their businesses over the years. But Tarik couldn’t remember ever seeing wealth on crude display this way. Business must be better than good for the suppliers of weapons of mass destruction these days.
“The boss is waiting.” One of the goons pointed his weapon toward a sunken living room off to the left.
Jass spun and strode down the few steps as if she owned the place. “Mr. Eltsin,” she said in Russian. “How nice of you to invite us to spend a few days with you. This is such a lovely villa.”
Eltsin stood alone by a bar, with a cocktail glass full of either vodka or tequila in his hand. “I’m pleased you could join me, Ms. Kocak.” He’d spoken in lightly accented English and made it clear that he would prefer carrying on in that language.
Once again Tarik became wary. Did the Russian have some idea that his guests were fluent English speakers and not who they claimed to be?
Fortunately for Tarik, Sheik Zohdi was more conversant in English than he was in Russian. Perhaps Eltsin had investigated and found that out.
As if the man was answering his unspoken questions, Eltsin said, “Thank you for coming, Sheik Zohdi. My humble home is open to you. We will speak in English this weekend to make my guests comfortable. Not all of them are as at ease with Russian as you are, Ms. Kocak.”
Tarik believed the Taj Zabbar would be in attendance since he’d overheard them talking about coming. Would anyone else be there? Of course, knowing the Taj as he did, they would probably refuse to speak in Russian even though he was positive they understood it perfectly well.
“It does not matter,” Jass told him offhandedly. She’d made sure to heavily accent her English.
“Good. Now, before I offer you my hospitality, I would prefer it if you’d disarm yourselves.”
Jass opened her mouth to make a response, but Eltsin held up his hand and interrupted. “I had sincerely hoped you would voluntarily give up your weapons while in my home. But I’ll have them taken from you if that’s your choice.”
Tarik didn’t want Jass to endure either a search or an argument. Stepping closer to Eltsin, he carefully withdrew the Walther from his jacket pocket.
“I will voluntarily give mine up.” He hesitated with his fingers on the butt end of the gun. “To my knowledge, Ms. Kocak is unarmed, but no one touches her. Understood? In addition, I expect your word on our safety while we remain under your roof.”
Eltsin ignored him and nodded to one of his henchman, standing in the doorway. The man gingerly approached Tarik and put his hand out for the gun.
“Your word, Eltsin?”
“Of course. But Ms. Kocak…”
Jass moved closer to Eltsin, nearly rubbing up against the Russian. “I carry a small weapon in my briefcase. It is for self-defense only. And it is tiny, really. Nearly useless.”
“No weapons in my home.”
“Certainly,” Jass said dismissively. “As you wish. We are all civilized here.”
She reached into her bag and turned over the smaller-sized Ruger she’d stashed there. Tarik handed over his weapon to the henchman at the same time.
“When do we get to meet our competitors, Mr. Eltsin?” Jass moved closer to Tarik and farther away from Eltsin. A telling move that Eltsin clearly understood.
After the tension surrounding the weapon transfer, Eltsin suddenly looked at ease. “Do not think of this weekend as only business, Ms. Kocak.” His mouth actually turned up in a strange version of a smile. “I want you two to enjoy yourselves. I think you’ll find the pool and gardens are quite delightful. Please take advantage of them with my compliments.”
Jass lowered her shoulders and smiled back warmly. “Why thank you. We’ll do that.”
Tarik wanted to make a couple of things clear first. “I am not much on leisure time, Mr. Eltsin.” He used the low, threatening voice of the sheik to make his point. “I expect the privacy to conduct my business and to spend time alone with Ms. Kocak.”
He put his hand possessively on Jass’s shoulder. “And, I expect that our personal business papers and computers will be protected from prying eyes.”
“There is a safe in your room,” Eltsin said without any trace of rancor. “And I give you my word neither you nor your things will be bothered while you’re at my home. But I sincerely hope you and Ms. Kocak will spend at least a little time relaxing while you are here. All work and no play, you know.”
An American cliché? Eltsin must be suspicious.
“All work and no play—what could that mean, Mr. Eltsin?” Jass had caught the odd remark and with a glance at Eltsin, casually wound her arm through Tarik’s.
Eltsin smiled full-out this time and Tarik was reminded of the grin on the king cobra right before it struck. “Do not concern yourself, my dear. It is nothing. My man will see you and the sheik to your room now. But please do join us for a late lunch at the pool.”
Jass laughed and shrugged a shoulder. “I’ll try. But I cannot guarantee an appearance from Sheik Zohdi. He is, what was it you said? No play but all work? That is why I am acting as his agent for the auction.”
Eltsin gave an elegant wave of his hand. “The auction is two days away yet. In the meantime, I do hope to see you later. Until then?”
Jass nodded pleasantly and they took their leave, following the henchman up the staircase. Tarik could feel her trembling beside him, though her head was high and her chin strong. He wanted to wrap his arm around her shoulders to give her added strength. But he didn’t want to call attention to her distress—or give her the idea he thought she was weak in any way.
No one on the outside would ever have guessed how difficult that scene must’ve been on Jass. He certainly hadn’t noticed until now.
He hung back, leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Was the Ruger your only weapon?”
“Was the Walther yours?”
“Not a chance.”
“Me neither.” She’d made the reply in her own hushed tone as a twinkle appeared in her eyes. “What do you say we find someplace private and I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?”
A chuckle escaped his lips. What better partner could he have than Jass? She, who joked in the face of danger.
Now all he had to do was keep her safe. From Eltsin. From the Taj. And most of all, from himself.
Chapter 10
“What if they’ve already been through our luggage?” Jass raised her voice to be heard from the closet while she removed the derringer from under her dress.
Tarik had finished checking their room for bugs and cameras and declared the place clean. Now he was rifling through her duffel and his briefcase in the bathroom.
“I’m sure they made a
cursory inspection, but they didn’t have the time to uncover what I hid. It would take a better man than anyone Eltsin’s got to find…”
As she ducked out of the closet, Tarik stepped out of the bathroom, assembling a revolver. “All the weapons we’re carrying now are made of special plastic and won’t show up on any metal screening. Don’t be surprised to find ammo in with your underwear.”
“You broke the weapons down into pieces?”
He grinned like a Cheshire cat with a bowl of milk. “Sure. A barrel in with the swimsuits. A grip in my briefcase with my laptop. A firing pin in with shaving cream.”
Shrugging, he went on, “It’s not hard to disguise and smuggle weapons if you know what you’re doing and have the proper equipment.”
“No wonder that duffel is so heavy. I’ve done the same kind of thing with the surveillance toys Ed supplied. I’m surprised the luggage doesn’t clank when it’s carried.”
“Plastic, remember?” Tarik’s face suddenly sobered. “Do you think your handler knows where we are? Could he have followed us?”
The smile spread across her face as she prepared to give up the secret she’d been carrying. “He knows. I’m tagged.”
“What? They implanted a GPS on you? Where is it?”
“It’s a chip no bigger than a grain of rice and it’s right under the skin in a spot that’s— Well, let’s say you’d never notice the mark.”
The thought of him touching her there, or maybe putting his lips to her skin over that spot, gave Jass an unwanted chill. But she swore not to let it lead to something more.
Yes, the man gave her serious chills—and then made her hot enough to sweat bullets. But he was only a partner on the job. A good partner, she was coming to believe. But not the kind of man she’d ever imagined falling in love with. He was a player—and a man who gave up on his sensitive job with the United States government in order to prove a theory she still wasn’t completely convinced could be true.
Her father would never have done such a thing. He was her gold standard of behavior. No one else had ever measured up.
Besides, she wasn’t looking for a relationship. Her career was far more important to her than throwing caution to the wind and having a good time in bed.
Oh, but she had a feeling Tarik could provide a woman with a real good time.
“Well, using your own words,” he said with one of his whimsical smiles and raised eyebrows, “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
“You’re chipped, too? By whom?”
He lifted his arm and pointed to a spot under his armpit that was currently hidden by his shirt. “My brothers and I each carry a chip under the skin. Our operations people came up with the idea in order to keep track of where we were going. It’s been a lifesaver on several occasions.”
“So the Kadirs know where you are now?”
“I hope so. My brother Shakir should be in the area by now. I’m counting on him being close enough if we need his help.”
That meant he could probably contact his people somehow.
Deciding not to ask him about communications yet, Jass posed another more pertinent question. “You didn’t see any of the other guests when we were coming in, did you? I didn’t. I wonder who the other bidders are and if they’re here already, too.”
“They’re here. But no, I didn’t see anyone on the way in either. Are you confident you know what’s going to be up for auction?”
“It must be the fissionable material like on the file I found on the computer in Eltsin’s office.” After she’d posed the theory, the expression on Tarik’s face led her to believe otherwise. “Why? What do you think?”
He tilted his head noncommittally. “The ‘fissionable material’ notation you saw was probably a red herring. And if you say anything about it, Eltsin will know it was us in his office.”
She blew out a breath. “Good point. Do you have any suggestions for finding out what we’re after?”
“I want to do a little snooping around. Maybe I can figure it out.”
“And that’s why you made such a point with Eltsin about your privacy and working from your room.” What a terrific partner he made. The man could think on his feet far better than anyone she’d ever seen. “I take it you have a plan for scouting the area without being noticed?”
“Maybe. But I’m counting on you to keep Eltsin and the other guests occupied. Or at least be in a position to warn me if they’re coming back to this wing of the house.”
“I believe I have an idea for handling such a diversion.” She could think on her feet fairly well, too. “But first I want to give you a quick lesson on the toys I brought along. Some of the surveillance equipment could prove useful for a snoop.”
Tarik nodded and winked at her. “Okay, boss lady. I’m ready for instruction.”
She sniffed at the term he’d used. Things had changed in her mind. They were partners. Neither of them was the boss of this operation.
But rather than raise a fuss, she retrieved her duffel and dragged it onto the desk. She turned back to him, ready with a dose of his own medicine.
For the first time in her entire life, she winked at a man. “Okay, class. Get ready to listen up.”
Good God. Tarik felt his body go rock hard when Jass walked out of the closet a little while after their lesson dressed in the smallest damned thong bathing suit he had ever seen. And damned if it wasn’t neon lime-green.
“What…” He choked on his own tongue. “Uh, what the devil do you think you’re doing in that…that…thing?”
“This is a Brazilian-style bathing suit, not a thing. And it’s part of my plan to keep the men busy while you scout around upstairs.”
“Uh…” Down boy. “Yeah, I’d say your suit will capture everyone’s attention all right. But where’s your weapon hidden?”
“Not carrying one. But I’m not worried. I can take care of myself.”
“Hope so,” he grumbled under his breath.
“What?”
“I said I hope you can take care of yourself because you’ll be fighting the men off like flies around a garbage dump.”
Jass scowled. “Nice analogy, pal. How I dearly love being compared to a smelly landfill. That’s a new one.”
He wouldn’t tell her what he truly thought about how she looked. She looked good enough to eat and he wasn’t at all happy about terrorists, or any male, drooling over her nearly nude body.
He tried to remind himself she was only his partner, not a love interest like Celile was for Zohdi. And that this plan was part of her job, not a plan to make him jealous. Tarik fought to keep from demanding she cover up.
Instead, he said, “Do you think Sheik Zohdi would ever allow Celile out of his sight dressed in something like that?”
“No way.” She rolled her eyes, turned and disappeared back into the closet.
A minute later she reappeared, shoving her arms through a wraparound dress. “I brought this beach cover-up along to make the sheik happy.” She grinned at him.
The dress wasn’t much better. Made out of some flimsy, see-through material with green and blue swirly patterns, nothing of importance was obvious underneath the so-called dress. But that only made it worse somehow. Male imaginations would run wild instead.
Tarik narrowed his eyes. “It’s still…” At a loss for words, he waved a hand in the air.
“Isn’t it just.” Jass laughed and twirled around, letting him see her from all sides. “Still no place for a weapon. But this should do to keep Eltsin and his male guests’ attention focused somewhere else besides on you. Don’t you think?”
God help him, she was right. He didn’t like it. Hated the idea, in fact. But it would probably work.
“When are you going to execute this plan of yours?” Tarik hoped her answer would be tomorrow or maybe the next day. Never would’ve been his first preference.
But she said what he’d feared. “In a moment, if you’re ready to do your job.”
The
words didn’t want to leave his mouth, but he pushed them out with a groan. “Ah…I’m ready. I guess.”
Jass ducked back into the closet but almost instantly reappeared having added a pair of sexy, lime-green stiletto heels and a pair of sunglasses to the outfit. “Okay then. Me, too.”
Tarik groaned again and swiped a hand across his suddenly dry mouth. Damn, she was hot.
This operation wasn’t turning out the same way he’d had in mind. He’d pictured her in a black catsuit and him in his NVGs, riffling through computer files and listening in on conversations together.
Now the two of them would be going in alone. But, he knew part of his mind wouldn’t be concentrating on the job. Not with the constant worry over how Jass was faring on her end.
Hell. He slammed one fist into the other and Jass raised her head in surprise.
“You okay?”
“Fine.” If…he could manage to control his raging out-of-whack emotions and get back in the game. “I’ll give you fifteen minutes to get down by the pool. If Eltsin isn’t there yet or if anything else looks amiss to you, send a pool boy or valet up here with a drink for Zohdi. I’ll abort.”
“Right.” Jass turned and headed out the door. “Be careful,” she called as the door closed behind her.
Swamped with jealousy and tingling with desire, Tarik fought to maintain some semblance of control. His unsuitable responses to a female partner were simply becoming over-the-top and crazy as hell. He was acting more like a man in love than a man on a mission.
It wasn’t as if he’d never worked with covert female operatives before. But somehow Jass was different than all the rest.
He thought again of her in that teeny, tiny bikini and felt his pulse begin to race. Yeah. She was a lot different.
Damn it.
Jass lifted her chin and purposefully strode down the staircase one foot in front of the other, swinging her hips. Once on a long-ago sting, she’d portrayed a European swimsuit model, and she tried to put her mind back in that place and time.
