by Gennita Low
He watched her for a moment. He’d forgotten how much time a woman took to get ready. It always fascinated him to see all their rituals before they even put a piece of clothing on.
“There’s a phone in the bathroom, Lily,” he pointed out as he stepped closer.
She shrugged again as she poured some of the cream onto her palm. “I didn’t hear anything. What did you want?”
Reed placed the bags at the end of the bed. “I forgot to ask for your shoe size,” he explained. “You should have everything else in these bags, though. We’ll just get the shoes afterward.”
He watched her rub the white milky stuff up her forearms and shoulders. “Afterward” had never sounded more erotic. He sat down on the bed.
“Oh.” Lily turned, taking a few steps closer to the bed, where she placed the bottle of lotion. “You bought those for me?”
He didn’t look at where she was pointing. “Yeah. They should fit.”
“Okay.” She bent and peered into one of the bags. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back.”
Reed reached for the end of the towel. “Okay,” he said and tugged.
She turned toward him, surprise in her eyes. Her hand held on to the knot in the front of the towel. “Don’t you ever think of any other form of payment?” she demanded.
“I don’t want your money. You need that for other things anyway,” he pointed out. “And for now, you need me.”
He tugged again. She still resisted him. She had the most beautiful eyes, not totally black but a dark chocolate brown that reminded him of hot fudge on ice cream. Every time he looked into them, he wanted to lick her.
“I want to get ready to go,” she said softly.
“I’ll help you,” he offered.
She shook her head. “Oh yeah, right. I don’t think you have getting me dressed in mind.”
He smiled. “Of course I do. I’m going to help you get ready. It’s my clothes you’re going to wear, so I should at least get to see you put them on.”
He knew those words would rile her. He was beginning to enjoy seeing that glint of temper in her eyes. That meant her focus was on him and not just on running off. For some reason he didn’t care to explore just now, he didn’t want her to think of him just as a way to get what she wanted. He pulled at the handful of towel in his grasp. She grabbed on to the knot tighter, at the same time lifting her leg to direct a kick.
“Uh-uh, no hurting your savior,” he said, easily catching her leg and tilting her sideways. Unbalanced, she fell forward and had to grasp his shoulder with her free hand. The fruity scent of body lotion tempted him. “The first rule of kicking at your opponent is to not worry whether you’re naked or not. Besides, I wouldn’t mind the scenery.”
He’d read in her file that although she wasn’t trained in martial arts, she knew how to protect herself. As he steadied her, he ran a hand down her calf, feeling its slender strength. He’d like to take her swimming and watch those legs kicking underwater. She would enjoy surfing. He was sure of it.
The image of her on a surfboard took away a little of his enjoyment. If wishes were horses…
“So why didn’t you pick up the phone?” he asked again instead. There was no way she couldn’t have heard the ringing, even with the water running.
“It stopped ringing by the time I heard it,” she said, her eyes not meeting his as she leaned down to kiss him.
“Liar.” Reed reached up and pulled the knot out of her hand. The towel fell to the floor. He tried to ignore the parts he really wanted to touch. He wondered whether she’d really been showering. The towel was dry.
“Did you get any condoms?” Lily asked, still landing soft kisses on his lips.
He was glad he was wearing clothes because he wanted to pull her down into his arms and forget about protection. “No.” He certainly wasn’t going to get Petr to do that part of the shopping for him. Besides, she was trying to distract him. Trying to ignore her hand massaging the back of his neck, he ran a light finger over the bandaged gauze wrapped around her arm. It was barely wet. It should be soaked through if she’d been showering. “I didn’t see any downstairs.”
“So how are you going to dress me?” she teased. “Are you sure you have everything I need?”
“Everything is there but underwear,” Reed told her. Her soft caress stilled as he reached for the bottle of lotion on the bed. “I like the idea of you not wearing any.”
She straightened up. “You aren’t going to do that to me again,” she said. Her eyes were so dark they were black now. “Not when you aren’t joining me.”
“Call this foreplay.”
She wanted to distract him. He decided to turn the tables.
Reed squeezed a generous amount onto her stomach. He smoothed the cream upward, enjoying the silkiness of her skin. Her tummy went taut with anticipation as he ran his palms up her rib cage. If she wanted to play who could distract whom the most, she was going to lose. He cupped both her breasts. They filled his hands as she inhaled sharply.
“Why do I keep letting you do this to me?” she wondered softly, her eyes half-closing.
He kissed her stomach. “It’s an honest response, sweetheart. Your body just likes me more than you think.”
“What does that mean?”
Reed thought about all the secrets she was hiding from everyone. He gently teased the pink nipples into little hard nubs. “You won’t answer my questions. Your body’s response is more truthful than you are. You know what? I don’t mind sitting here and doing this all day. Sooner or later, you’ll have to give me some answers.” He looked up. “Later is okay with me.”
He reached for the lotion again. She looked at him, her breathing a little faster.
“What do you want to know?”
“Who’s after you, for instance. I was shot at too, you know, so I’m more than a bit curious. And why do you need so many passports? What are they for? Tell me where you’re going.”
Where is the explosive device? Is someone still in control of you?
Her hands moved up to hold his face. “That’s too naked for me,” she whispered.
Reed had a feeling that her answer was very close to the truth. Llallana Noretski had hidden herself for so many years that talking about herself would be tantamount to being stripped naked emotionally. Except that, at this moment, she was trying to distract him physically.
“I know,” he said in a low voice. He wanted her to capitulate emotionally. That was the only way to find the real Lily. Still holding her gaze, he squeezed out a blob of lotion. He rubbed his palms and smoothed the thick liquid onto her soft skin. He would gladly play her game because he planned to win. “But that’s the fun of foreplay. I get to strip you one layer at a time.”
“Do I get to do the same thing?” she asked huskily. “And I don’t mean rubbing skin lotion all over you.”
“Ladies first,” he told her with a small smile.
It was crazy. He wanted her to want him for more than just his help; he wanted her to want him enough to share all her secrets with him. In a way, not being able to have sex with her was good. He didn’t want her to think he just wanted to fuck her. He wanted more than that.
It was a crazy thought, but he was thinking of saving her for himself. Not possible. The woman was wanted by a bunch of agencies. But he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he was playing with alternative scenarios. He’d, after all, been brought up a Vincenzio, and Vincenzios always found a way to buy and keep secrets.
* * *
Greta sipped on her coffee as she studied the man sitting across the table from her. She wasn’t easily surprised, but Gunther Galbert had certainly done that this morning. She hadn’t expected him to be breakfasting in his greenhouse, surrounded by tropical and semitropical plants and miniature fountains. Of course, he had a computer on a cart beside him, from which he could monitor anything he wished. But at the moment, he appeared to be immersed in his food.
“You sure you don’t want
some?” he asked in German.
She shook her head. “No, thank you.”
He was probably a dozen years younger than her, but with the trimmed beard and professorial clothing, he looked older. She’d dealt with him a number of times when she’d worked in D.C., passing information back and forth, and he’d always struck her as more of a courier, but here he’d been playing her like a seasoned operative. She wondered what he had in store for her today.
“I like doing business on a full stomach,” he said.
“I wasn’t aware we were doing any business together,” Greta said.
“You’re still angry at the little trick I pulled on you, aren’t you?” He wiped his mouth, then pushed his chair back. “You should’ve known you’d be tested now that you’re back in the game.”
She peered up at him as she took another sip from her cup. She licked her lips, savoring the strong taste of good coffee. “I’m not back in the game,” she lied smoothly. “I’m retiring, remember?”
“Come, come. If you were, why did you choose to have the weapon hidden in one of your nephew’s dropped CIA weapons caches?” Gunther lit a thin cheroot. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes with enjoyment. After a moment, he added, “The old Greta I knew would have found a better way of delivery, one that wasn’t so risky.”
She didn’t like the way he used the word ‘old.’ “I was in a hurry to get out of the States,” she said, then realized belatedly that she’d fallen into a trap. He was making her admit that she’d been on the verge of being caught. She amended, “I wanted to be the one to handle the item myself, since this is my last job for the Agency.”
His smile told her he wasn’t fooled by her quick cover-up. She’d better be more careful while sparring words with him. She had no intention of letting him know that her motivation was selfishness rather than concern over doing her job well. She’d wanted to return home in triumph, to ensure that her record ended not with a hurried escape but with an operation befitting someone of her caliber.
“Why would you want to test an old lady?” she continued, trying not to choke on that word. “For ten years I’ve delivered, so my record speaks for itself. I don’t have anything to prove.”
“Forgive my curiosity then, but why did you want to be the one to demonstrate the device to headquarters? You were willing to take a big risk, sneaking in that device. My way was much better. I’d have sacrificed a stupid girl, instead of an experienced operative like you. There are people blowing themselves up all over the place these days. What’s one more? Therefore, there’s less suspicion someone else planted a bomb.” Gunther tapped his cheroot on the ashtray. “So, from my perspective, you wanted to show you still have the skills. My question is, why, if you’re retiring.”
He really was quite a sharp and observant man. It was a shame she was planning to get rid of him.
“I like to do things personally because there’s less chance of failure.” She smiled nastily. “After all, if I’d been allowed to do my job, the device wouldn’t have disappeared with the girl, would it? And we wouldn’t be wasting all these months tracking after her and looking for the damn thing now, would we?”
He studied her as he smoked, seemingly unperturbed he was the one who had failed. Greta wondered whether he was in trouble with headquarters, since he was the one who had deviated from the original orders. However, that still didn’t explain why he was trying to stop her every time she got near Llallana Noretski. No, there was more to this than mere competition. He’d mentioned doing business together.
“Actually,” he said, as he exhaled another puff of smoke, “I was under orders to try something different. There are people higher up who thought it would be too much work for someone who’s just returned to action. So they asked me to activate another one of ours in the CIA to see whether there was another alternative.”
Greta looked at Gunther with as little facial expression as possible. So she’d been right. Some of them did think she wasn’t capable anymore. That was what she was afraid of. Apparently, being ten years older meant she wasn’t up to carrying a simple device into a summit of politicians and getting close enough to plant it on a target.
She patted her newly dyed hair. She’d taken care of her face and body all these years, but, of course, there were no pictures of the new look. All they saw was the dowdy old secretary she’d played so well. Too damn well, it appeared, because they’d begun to believe she really looked like that.
“Now you need me for some reason,” she said. “What can an old lady like me do for you and the agency? I might as well pack up now and go home. I have many relatives I want to visit.”
Maybe she should forget triumph and glory. She could be just as happy at the dacha, enjoying meeting her family. She could finish knitting the shawl for her niece. And maybe even travel around.
“No need to be so dramatic, Greta. You were never this unreasonable when you were in D.C.,” Gunther chided. “Why, you were always businesslike. I’ve enjoyed your professionalism whenever we communicated, but, now, I’m seeing a different side of you. I must say you’re looking very attractive.”
“This is me,” Greta said. She darted him a quick glance. Was he flirting with her? “That was Greta the secretary. I assure you, I’m a lot more capable than that woman.”
“Oh, I know that. I’ve read your files. You’re a legend,” Gunther told her.
Why was he praising her now? “What is it you want?” she asked.
“I want you to contact your niece.”
Greta looked up sharply and found him watching her closely. “Who?”
“I’m afraid your letting out the word in the market about a missing special weapon has caught a lot of interest. She’s after the device. I want you to lure her out and make her a partner or something. She can’t have the device. Or Lily. They’re both important for our operations.”
“My niece?” Greta frowned. “I haven’t been in touch with any of my relatives for years. Security protocol, as you know. They’re all kids still in school. Why do you think they’re involved?”
“Ah, Greta, Greta. Ten years, my dear,” Gunther said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “Your young nieces and nephews are all grown up. Don’t tell me you still think they are teenagers? The niece I want you to contact was married to one of our generals, but you know how that is—poverty has turned her to more lucrative business. It seems female empowerment runs in your family genes.”
“What are you talking about?” Her niece. Greta frowned again. Which one? There were three that she remembered and they’d been the sweetest little kids when she’d left them. But…Gunther was right. They weren’t kids anymore. “What’s she doing now?”
“She was married to a general, I told you. That means she’s been making money selling all the Russian weaponry that she could get her hands on. She’s quite notorious back home, let me tell you. Our government indulges her because she does bring back some items for them and she’s promised them the device. We, of course, don’t want certain parties in the government to have it. We are, after all, trying to rebuild the old system.”
In many ways, her agency was just like the CIA, an entity with its own agenda apart from the government. “How do I contact this niece then?”
“I’ve done it. I’m the handler, remember? She’ll be here later today, because she’s just as curious about meeting the legendary Aunty Greta, as she called you. We have plans for her and we need your cooperation.”
“My niece. What’s her name?” She wasn’t happy about being caught by surprise again. It seemed Gunther had more advantage over her than she’d anticipated. “And how come I didn’t know about this before?”
“How do the Americans put it—need-to-know basis?” Gunther put out his cheroot. “Do you remember Talia?”
Talia, dark hair and pink cheeks, with snow all over her hat when Greta had last seen her. Talia wouldn’t be a gawky teenager anymore.
“Of course,” she said coolly.
&nb
sp; Gunther tapped on his computer. “Here’s our last photo of her. Except for the scar, a beautiful woman.”
This would be the first time Greta had really looked at a member of her family. “Does she know why we want to talk to her?” she asked, pretending not to look too eagerly at the screen. From this distance, her niece looked absolutely beautiful. Dark hair and pretty smile, just as she remembered. “I don’t see any scars.”
“You’re sitting too far away. It’s not that noticeable, especially when she has makeup on. I’ll print a hard copy for you after breakfast. She suffered some cuts on her face some time ago from a homemade bomb. It didn’t exactly disfigure her, but you know how it is with beautiful young women. She went for plastic surgery to repair the damage.”
“She’s gorgeous,” Greta murmured. But then the women in her family had always turned heads.
“There’s a thin scar from there to there,” Gunther told her, moving his finger on the screen. “Other than that, she’s managed to come out of that incident more beautiful than ever, I must say. With her new-found wealth, I’m sure she’s enhanced a little bit here and there.”
She took her eyes off the picture. “What are the operation details?”
“Talia’s getting too close to what we’re doing. We want you to eliminate her.”
Greta swerved her gaze back to the man across the table. “You want me to kill my own niece,” she said slowly.
Gunther smiled. “Not immediately, of course. You can get to know her better first.”
CHAPTER 12
“That’s a beautiful hotel. Your friend must be really wealthy to be able to afford a private suite.”
It wasn’t just a regular hotel suite, not when there was a private elevator that led straight to the parking garage. Lily slanted Reed a sideways glance. She’d never met a gunrunner who had such highly placed friends. An art dealer, yes.
