He hadn’t missed the suggestive tone of her voice. Jace was no fool. Tyra used sex like some agents used interrogation. Both could be fatal. “Maybe I’m sightseeing.”
She laughed again, her bobbing breasts coming into contact with the flat surface of his abdominal region. “I can’t imagine a man with your talents sightseeing in such a busy place.”
“Busy?”
“Oh c’mon Jace, we both know there’s more going on around here than leaves turning and the Red Sox race for the pennant.”
Her fingers were snaking up his chest, picking at invisible lint on his snug cotton T-shirt. She sighed, and he fought the urge to dwell on whether or not he could feel her nipples harden beneath her blouse and if she could actually make them harden by sheer force of will.
Making a split second decision, Jace tried a new tactic. “Where’s your partner, Tyra?”
She stiffened, stepping back and throwing him a frown. Sparks shot from her brown eyes. “Why would you care about that twit?”
“I’m looking for some information. I thought he might have some.”
“Biggs? You thought Biggs would have information?”
“Senator’s pet and all, you know.”
She snorted. “Don’t remind me, Jace! It’s all I hear day in and day out!”
He fought a smile. She wouldn’t have been pleased to know it amused him that she’d been saddled with a partner nobody else wanted. He needed her happy, or at least talkative. It was common knowledge that Preston Biggs couldn’t keep his ass out of hot water for more than a few seconds at a time on his own. He was also the nephew of a very prominent Senator who sat on a CIA budget committee and several black ops oversight committees.
“You know, Tyra, you should be flattered they chose you to babysit.”
“Those dickless morons?” she snapped. “They only picked me because they knew I could keep him alive.”
“Must be your people skills.”
“More like my reputation as a notorious hell bitch.”
She made a frustrated noise in her throat before wandering several paces away. A black wrought iron fence enclosed one of the many expansive grass areas of the MIT campus. Tyra crossed her arms and rested a hip against the sturdy fence.
“Why are you really here?”
“Did they send you to find out?”
“More or less. A guy like you doesn’t slip by completely unnoticed in airport security, no matter what ID you use.”
“Are you asking if I’m here on a contract?”
“You already said you were looking for information.”
“So I did.”
He paused for several minutes. Tyra seemed to have lost some of her intensity. This particular side of her personality was the one that could be the most unnerving. Pushy, hardcore bitch he understood. Broody, introspective woman he did not.
Jace decided to go for broke. “Have you heard anything about a government sanctioned hit list?”
Tyra frowned. “Sounds like another Hollywood conspiracy theory.”
“Maybe.” He cast another glance at the gleaming dome of MIT. “But this is a list of spooks somebody wants exterminated.”
Several emotions flickered across her eyes before she quickly schooled her face back into blandness. Jace had his answer right there. Yes, she knew something. No, she didn’t want to talk about it.
“I suppose there’s been a rumor,” she finally relented.
“A rumor?”
“Sorgenson, Yves, Ortega and Nguyen have all turned up dead in the last three weeks. They were all gunned down in the same fashion with the same type of Russian assault rifle.”
“That’s not assassination, that’s execution.”
“Sniping another assassin takes careful planning and a big set of brass balls, Jace. When you’re working under deadline, eloquence and courage are the first things to go.”
Something that might’ve been labeled as shock seeped through his body, making his fingers tingle and his brain work overtime. Tyra had just listed off four of the most respected assassins in his field, all freelance and all deadly in their own way. Trying to compare their histories to find a common enemy would’ve been ludicrous. They were like Jace and Dayne. Practically everybody on the planet would’ve had reason to take them out at one time or another.
He calmly focused on the facts. “What do you know about the shooters?”
“Nothing much. Look at me! I may have a reputation in the field, but when it comes to politics, you get nowhere in a skirt.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
Tyra sighed. “Believe it. Some days I find myself thinking I’d do better in your line of work.”
His eyebrows shot up. “I don’t think you’d last.”
“Oh, I’m too feminine?” she snarled suddenly. “Unlike like your friend Dayne Castille, I suppose?”
“You may hate bureaucracy, but you still see black and white in the world.”
“It’s all fading to gray, I assure you.”
He chuckled. “Tired of watching my file get thicker and thicker while your bosses turn a blind eye?”
“It’s disgusting! I could name fifty of your marks off the top of my head. And those are just the ones we have actual evidence on! But they haven’t touched you.”
He didn’t add salt to that wound. The truth was that people like he and Dayne were a necessary evil. From time to time they did favors for their government or any other political organization that could come up with the cash. Who else could you send when it couldn’t look like political intrigue? Which was why it made no sense to be exterminating them one by one.
“I think the idea of a hit list is ridiculous. This is probably some petty personal vendetta gone too far.”
Jace dismissed her comment offhand. They were a prickly bunch, sure. In fact, it wasn’t unusual for mercenary types to kill each other for a variety of petty insults. This was larger than a personal vendetta. This was a systematic elimination.
“A government list just isn’t plausible!”
“Why not?”
Tyra frowned. “There’s no point to it.”
“Because the government uses us like a checks and balances system?”
She nodded, nibbling a cuticle. “As much as it pains me to say it, even your kind has a part to play in government politics. That’s what drives the agencies nuts. If we were assigned your missions there would be yards of red tape and possible jail time at completion. You guys just walk away. The problem of course is that none of you possess one iota of loyalty. You’re all a bunch of self-serving mercenaries.”
A disturbing possibility began forming in Jace's mind, one that allowed for the odd combination of players in the game. Much as it pained him to say it, Tyra was right. Assassins were a self-serving bunch. They had their alliances and their petty wars, but at the end of the day it was a lot like a reality television contest, something along the lines of “Last Man Standing.”
Which brought about an interesting question; what would happen if someone managed to unify a group of the world’s deadliest trained mercenaries and hit men?
Tyra abruptly changed the subject. “So how is she?”
“Dayne?” Jace shrugged. “Alive.”
Tyra said something unladylike beneath her breath.
“I know. You dominant female types rarely get along.”
“Are you sleeping with her?”
Now that was out of left field! His brief but torrid liaison with Tyra had ended more than a year before. It had never been serious to begin with. She was the kind of woman who discarded men like silk stockings.
“I shouldn’t have asked that, Jace. Sorry.”
“No,” he said quickly, searching for a tactful way to divert her. “Dayne and I have only ever had a business relationship.”
“The agency has her pegged as lesbian,” Tyra commented.
“What?”
“We keep tabs on everybody, you know that. There’s an entire depa
rtment devoted to you guys. Off the books of course.”
“Isn’t that your department?”
Tyra turned back to the fence, leaning against it, staring off into the distance. “That’s what ten years in the agency will get a woman; a partner with a silver spoon up his ass to babysit and assignment to a department that doesn’t even exist.”
The intense bitterness in her voice jarred Jace. There was no doubt in his mind that she’d been the one in Yuri’s study that evening. Now the question was whether or not she’d been there on agency business. He began to suspect not. God save them all from a woman scorned.
“Dayne’s staying with you though,” Tyra said.
“It’s a cover.”
“And all you’re looking for is a bogus hit list?”
He wondered how he could explain the situation in order to keep her from getting more suspicious than she already was. “Dayne and I seem to be on somebody’s bad side at the moment.”
“Ah, so you suspect you’re on that hit list.”
Jace nodded, not wanting to go into any details. Details involved Ryan, and the less Tyra knew about that the better. He didn’t trust her any more than he trusted Antonio Herrera. Maybe even less.
Her sex goddess persona firmly back in place, she shot him a coquettish grin from beneath lowered lashes. “Well, when you quit chasing ghosts and ditch the bitch, look me up. I wouldn’t mind catching up on old times.”
Jace said nothing, watching her walk away in silence. That she was involved in this situation was obvious. Now it was time to figure out how deep. He would definitely be looking her up, though he’d do it with Dayne to watch his back. Dayne might be a wild card, but he would trust her over Tyra any day.
Chapter Fifteen
There were still warm patches of late afternoon sunlight filtering through the vaulted glass ceiling in the pool deck area. Jace could see Ryan bobbing up and down in the clear water of the shallow end. He appeared to be diving for pool rings.
The scent of chlorine assailed him in a gust of humid air when he opened the glass doors. Craning his neck to see around a large potted banana tree, Jace finally caught a glimpse of Dayne. She was stretched out on a lounge chair. She wasn’t sitting alone.
Narrowing his gaze, he focused first on Dayne. She’d managed to find a scrap of fabric probably intended to be a two-piece bathing suit. Her smooth skin shone with the glow of perspiration. He briefly wondered when she found the time to sunbathe, because her entire body seemed to be tanned a warm honey gold. She’d draped a magazine carelessly across her up drawn knees and she was deep in conversation with a man.
Tall, athletic, and probably handsome, if Jace were any judge, the man sat casually beside her. Dressed in baggy athletic shorts, a tank top and sandals, with a white towel draped around his neck, Jace assumed he’d been on his way back from the nearby weight room.
Scowling fiercely and not knowing why, Jace stalked across the pool deck with the grace of a grizzly bear. He was approaching her from behind but he knew she could hear him. Her survival depended upon such things. And knowing she knew he was there made her conversation all the more irritating.
“So you’re leaving tonight?” she said, reaching out and placing her hand on the man’s knee. “That’s too bad. It would’ve been fun to tour the city with a native.”
“It is too bad,” the man agreed. “I may live in DC now, but Boston will always be home.”
“It’s such a beautiful place. I can see why. Just look at the view of the harbor from here. It’s amazing!”
The man leaned closer, resting his hand casually on the back of her chair. “I think I’d rather look at you than scenery.”
“Don’t flatter me. I’m sure you see better looking women all the time.”
“I disagree. And I know I’ve never run across a lady as hot as you are just walking past a hotel pool.”
She actually giggled. The sound made him grit his teeth. What game was she playing?
“You know, I could probably put my flight off until tomorrow morning.” The man offered a sly grin. “We could have breakfast in my suite before I go.”
“And why would I need breakfast?”
“To get your energy back after the night I’d give you.”
It was all Jace could do not to barge in, pick the man up, and smash his fist into the guy’s face. He knew he had no right. She wasn’t his. Dayne didn’t belong to anybody. But he couldn’t stand the thought of another man touching those sweet curves or kissing her sexy lips.
He should’ve thought about what he was doing. But his good reason was handicapped by some strange emotional preoccupation in the general vicinity of his heart. So instead of politely interrupting them, he barged in like a bull.
“Have you been waiting long, baby?” Jace accompanied his words with a quick peck to her cheek.
His question was met with dead silence. He should’ve felt bad about what he’d just done. She was still trying to process it, looking from Jace to her new friend and nibbling her lip. Instead, her brief insecurity played right to Jace’s advantage.
“Hey man, can I help you with something?” he coolly asked the stranger.
The guy’s dark eyes narrowed, taking in Jace’s relaxed ease beside Dayne. Finally, the man shook his head. “No, I was just leaving.” He hesitated for one second. “I’m really sorry, man. I had no idea she was here with anybody.”
Jace squeezed Dayne’s shoulder. “Yeah, she’s a pretty friendly girl. Aren’t you sweetie?”
She still hadn’t uttered a word. Jace suspected she was either tongue tied, or her insides were on fire.
The stranger walked off. Jace settled into the seat, stretched out his long legs and waved to Ryan. There was nothing else to do but wait and see what Dayne would do when she’d recovered her speech.
Dayne's body was on fire. Was she blushing? No, she was furious! How could the idiot waltz in and pull a stunt like that? Dayne knew she hadn’t missed the look of mingled remorse and pity in the man’s eyes when he’d walked away. That guy actually felt sorry for Jace! Like he had a girlfriend who couldn’t keep her hands to herself! As if there was some unspoken rule that kept men from sleeping with each other’s girlfriends or wives.
She briefly considered that Jace might be paying her back for ruining his chances with the car rental agent. But even if the entire incident was retaliatory, it was still embarrassing, not to mention pointless. What did he care if she hooked up with a stranger from their hotel? The guy was leaving in the morning and she’d never see him again. Those were the kind of one-night stands that made up her love life. Or at least they had before Ramsey and Jace had tied her libido into knots. In fact, since hiring Jace as a pilot she’d been trying unsuccessfully to get back to some semblance of normal. The most she could ever hope to expect was a quick no strings attached fuck every now and again. She could never have a relationship that lasted more than twelve or thirteen hours. She couldn’t afford the distraction. Now the big sexy bastard was screwing that up too!
What if he was jealous?
The thought was as ludicrous as it was disturbing. She and Jace were business associates. They hated each other on the best of days. The two of them were in the same line of work and managed to get in each other’s way on a regular basis. That didn’t mean there was any kind of romantic attachment going on, unless you counted that kiss on the beach.
What was wrong with her brain? Why couldn’t it seem to focus on important things? Why did it keep thinking about beaches in South Texas and tall handsome men with caramel skin whose kisses lit a fire in her otherwise empty existence?
“Your turn to babysit,” she told him abruptly. “Don’t expect me until late.”
Chapter Sixteen
The steamy nightclub was crowded. The air was thick with sweat and cigarette smoke. Strobe lights flashed neon colors, flinging bizarre shadows over the walls. Dayne eased through the horde of dancers with practiced precision. In the mass of silver spangles, g
old jewelry and stretchy synthetic material, her muted black fatigues and combat boots made her almost invisible, a ghost sliding through the pulsing throng of humanity.
A back room opened up to her right. Pivoting gracefully, she swung around a couple dancing so closely there was no air between their gyrating bodies. She caught a brief view of their faces, open mouths pressed together. The air around them was charged with eroticism.
Purposefully turning her back to them, she forced her mind to abandon its curiosity. She had no time for such things. Besides, truth be told, she wasn’t certain she could ever completely let go like the people on the dance floor. An absolute release of control was not acceptable in her world. The price was too high.
It was just a touch quieter inside the private room. Sofas twisted into odd, contemporary shapes and covered in a rainbow of enticing fabrics littered the floor. Women gathered in groups, their hips and arms moving with the fierce beat of techno music. Several noted her entrance, beckoning her forward, inviting her to join their mindless dance. Ignoring their invitations, she stepped toward the middle of the room instead. A man stood dead center of the chaos, with long limbed barely legal girls draped all over him.
Dayne watched one of the girls place a shot glass full of iridescent green liquid between her full breasts. The rogue pushed her back and placed his mouth on the glass, plucking it from her cleavage and swallowing in one movement.
One full minute passed before he noticed her. A shade over six foot, Ramsey Vitale’s muscular legs were encased in black leather pants. Sweat beaded on his bare, chiseled chest. Arms corded with muscle grasped the girls in a deceptively light embrace. The hair curling over his forehead was jet black, and his face was hard, though handsome in its own way, with strong features and black eyes. When he finally noticed Dayne’s stare, his sensual mouth curved into a smile.
The room was unbearably warm. Perspiration built on her upper lip. Resisting the urge to rub her face with her sleeve, Dayne held Ramsey’s gaze without wavering.
“God save us all,” the man said in his rich baritone. “Dayne’s back in town.”
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