by Paige Tyler
Teddy surveyed them with a practiced eye, taking in the cut of Trevor’s suit and her expensive gown, not to mention the big honking ring she wore. He must have liked what he saw, because he nodded.
“If I could get some identification and a credit card from you, Mr. Hoffman, I can quickly check your credentials and set you up with a line of credit.”
Alina tensed as Trevor handed over the requested ID and credit card. They could be in trouble. The fake ID and credit card by themselves would have taken quite a bit of time and money to pull off. Coming up with an Internet background to support that would take even longer.
“What are they going to find when they run your name and that credit card number?” she whispered as he slipped his arm around her and casually urged her away from the two men guarding the door.
“Relax.” He flashed her a grin. “They’ll find us with all the relevant financial and societal tidbits one would expect to see when looking at the rich and bored.”
She glanced at Teddy. He typed something into a computer just out of sight behind the bar. A moment later, he lifted his head and frowned in their direction.
“Something’s wrong,” she whispered.
Even the two guards were eyeing them funny now. She was starting to wish she had a weapon. If things went bad, they were in trouble.
“Alina,” Trevor said softly as he tightened his arm around her waist and tugged her closer. “Now’s the time for you to sell the newlywed thing.”
She opened her mouth to ask him exactly how he suggested she do that when he pulled her even closer.
She wished she could have said it was years of CIA training that took over and made her kiss him. But that wouldn’t have been true. Instead, it was a totally different kind of instinct. The kind that made a woman want to kiss a hot guy.
She weaved her fingers possessively into his dark hair, parting her lips and inviting his tongue in to play. Trevor slid one hand down her back, molding her so tightly against him she could feel the outline of every muscle in his amazing body.
“Mr. and Mrs. Hoffman.”
It took a minute for Teddy’s voice to register, and when it finally did, Alina reluctantly stepped away from Trevor. She swayed a little on her feet, suddenly breathless. If Trevor’s arm hadn’t been around her, she might have melted into a puddle on the floor. She’d never been affected by a kiss like that before.
Teddy smiled at them. “I’ve started you with a hundred-thousand-dollar line of credit. If you step this way, security can clear you. Then I can take you in so you can start enjoying your evening.”
I was already enjoying my evening, Alina thought.
Trevor looked at her, his mouth curving into a sexy grin, as if he’d been thinking the same thing.
Teddy and the two guards might have thought the flickering yellow glow that rimmed Trevor’s eyes was a reflection of the light. But Alina knew better. As he stood there gazing at her while the guard waited with the handheld metal detector, she couldn’t help but wonder what that flash of gold had meant.
* * *
Trevor couldn’t believe how badly he wanted to bail on the mission and spend the rest of the night kissing Alina. He’d thought she was attractive the first time he’d seen her, but holding her in his arms and feeling her body against his, knowing she wasn’t wearing anything underneath that dress, damn near made him burst into flames.
But then he remembered he might be only a few feet away from the man who’d built the bomb that had killed John. He couldn’t let this opportunity to get something on Thorn slip away, not after all the work Skye and Evan had done to track Shishani down. He owed John that much at the very least.
He took a deep breath and got his inner animal under control. He hadn’t been quite sure about bringing Alina with him tonight, but Skye had convinced him that he stood a much better chance of getting into the place with the cover she’d concocted. Flat-out, a lone man trying to weasel his way into a private gambling establishment was an uphill battle, no matter how rich he was supposed to be. Besides, Skye had already created their fake identities and set everything up. According to her, it had been too late to change the plan. Trevor was pretty sure she’d been working him.
In the end, though, Trevor hadn’t needed anyone to twist his arm to get him to go along with the plan. His head still wasn’t a hundred percent sold on his new partner, but his gut told him to trust her.
“Just hand your credit chit to the dealer at the first table you choose,” Teddy said as he escorted them into the private gaming area.
Trevor thanked the man, fighting back the growl clawing its way out of his throat as Teddy gave Alina a long, lingering look before he walked away. The urge to rip the guy’s face off for having the balls even to lay eyes on her was so strong, his claws actually extended.
He cursed under his breath and forced them back in. His animal nature was merely trying to lay claim to someone who didn’t belong to him. Alina was his partner, not his woman. That kiss, amazing as it had been, had just been part of their cover.
“Chill the hell out,” he muttered to himself.
“What was that?” Alina asked, raising her voice to be heard over the cheering at the nearest craps table.
“Nothing,” Trevor said. “I was just saying it’s nicer in here than I imagined.”
She turned slightly to survey the room, giving him a nice glimpse of cleavage. Couple that with the intoxicating pheromones she was putting off, and it was enough to make his inner coyote howl.
Get a fucking grip! What the hell is going on in your head?
“Is that him?” Alina asked, pulling him out of his daydreams.
Trevor dragged his gaze away from her and looked over to see Shishani standing at one of the craps tables, dark eyes intent on the bets his fellow gamblers were placing while he sipped the drink in his hand.
“Do we keep an eye on him until he leaves, then follow him?” Alina wanted to know.
Trevor shook his head. “No. As much as he likes to gamble, he could be here until this place closes. I sure as hell don’t feel like waiting around that long to talk to him.”
“You have a better plan?” she prompted.
“Yeah, I do. One that revolves around you and your distracting beauty.”
She appreciated the compliment—again—but couldn’t help but grimace. “I hesitate to ask.”
Trevor gave her a smile as he reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and came out with two very fancy-looking pens. She watched curiously as he turned toward the wall—probably so no camera could see what he was doing—and started taking the pens apart. One held a tiny vial…like one of those tubes that sample perfumes came in. The other contained a tiny piece of plastic, not much bigger than the eraser on a pencil.
“Don’t worry. It’s nothing too extreme. Which, I admit, is rather disappointing for me.” He motioned off to the left with his chin. “The restrooms are down a hallway over in that direction. At the end of that corridor is an emergency exit. As you can imagine in a place like this, the hallway is covered by cameras, and the door is heavily alarmed.”
He held up the small piece of plastic. “Step one of the plan involves me planting this device in the hallway. When I activate it, it will momentarily pause the cameras and trip a piece of software code in the security system that will disengage the door lock and alarm. Once I activate the device, it should give us about thirty seconds to get Shishani out the door and into the alley out back.”
“Nice toy,” she murmured, looking at the tiny device. “But I have a question. How are we going to get Shishani into that hallway so we can get him out the door?”
Trevor held up the small glass vial. “That’s where this—and you—come in.”
“You want me to drug him?” she asked in confusion, having a hard time imagining how that was going to help. “Don’t you th
ink security will get suspicious when Shishani starts stumbling around as we lead him toward the restroom?”
Trevor chuckled. “It’s not that kind of drug. It’s a powerful diuretic designed to make him have to go to the bathroom really badly—as in really, really badly. We simply need to follow him casually down the hall when that happens and take him right out the back.”
Alina had to admit, that seemed like a pretty good plan. “You need me to slip the drug into his drink?”
Trevor shook his head. “I can do that. I need you to distract him—and anyone else who might be looking our way—long enough to let me do it.”
She looked doubtful. “What if I can’t distract him, or anyone else, long enough for you to slip it in his drink?”
Trevor arched a brow as he slowly scanned her up and down. “Something tells me that’s not going to be an issue. If anything, you’ll have so many guys after you, we’ll never make it to the back hallway without a bunch of them following you like lovesick puppies.”
She laughed. “You’re really good for a girl’s ego, you know that?”
“Just one of the many services I provide.” He flashed her a grin. “You ready to go work your way close to him at the craps table while I slip off to the bathroom and plant this device? It will be easier for you to get close to him if I’m not with you at first.”
“Okay,” she said. Giving him a smile, she flipped her long, red-gold hair over her shoulder and headed for the table and the man who had almost certainly made the bomb that had killed John.
Trevor followed, then turned toward the back of the club and the security bug he needed to set up. The sooner he did that, the sooner he could get back here and keep an eye on Alina, because suddenly, the idea of leaving her alone anywhere near Shishani didn’t sit well with him.
Chapter 7
Trevor couldn’t believe Alina had been concerned she wouldn’t be able to distract Shishani—and most of the other men around the craps table. All she had to do was smile and laugh at Trevor’s quips, and she had almost every person around looking her way. When Alina turned and ask the table in general why a certain bet had been made, it was insanely simple to step closer to Shishani and slip the drug in his drink.
From that point forward, it was simply a waiting game, though he had to admit he didn’t like the way their suspect kept leaning over to try and engage Alina in conversation. Yeah, she wasn’t really his wife, but Trevor still had a nearly uncontrollable urge to rip the man to shreds. And no, it had nothing to do with being this close to one of the men responsible for John’s death.
He took an almost perverse pleasure in watching Shishani squirm when the drug started kicking in. A minute later, the man excused himself from the table and made a beeline for the bathroom. Alina gave Trevor a questioning look, but he shook his head. Let the guy do his business first. They’d grab him as he was coming out of the bathroom.
Trevor purposely made a lousy bet, then announced he was going to try his hand at roulette, grabbed Alina’s hand, and headed for the nearest table. Halfway there, he veered toward the back of the club instead.
Trevor activated the bug the moment he and Alina stepped into the hallway, and Shishani stepped out of the men’s restroom. Fortunately, there was no one else in the corridor or anywhere nearby, which would make this a whole lot easier.
The man’s eyes lit up when he saw Alina, but then his face took on a confused expression when he saw Trevor, too. The crazy urge to renovate the man’s face reared its ugly head, and it was all Trevor could do not to snarl.
Keeping his inner coyote in check, Trevor walked straight up to the bomber and wrapped his hand around the back of the man’s neck, slinging Shishani face-first into the opposite wall. It wasn’t hard enough to knock the guy out, but it was enough to knock a dent in the sheetrock and send Shishani bouncing backward like a pinball. Alina had the door open by the time Trevor grabbed his arm and shoved him out into the night.
The alley behind the building butted up against a high fence that separated this part of Worchester Street from the train tracks. It was pitch-black and reeked of spoiled food, spilled beer, and nasty Dumpsters. One end of the alley led toward the parking lot, while the other meandered through trash and other junk.
Trevor dragged Shishani a little farther down the alley so no one peeking out of the club would see them. Alina hung back and kept an eye on the door just in case.
He thumped Shishani up against the wall of the building, behind a tall Dumpster that smelled like it was used to store zombie bait for the coming apocalypse, and gave the man a shake.
“Wakey, wakey, Mr. Shishani,” he said. “Time to talk about a bomb you recently made.”
The man’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked at Trevor in confusion for a moment. Then his eyes went wide.
“I don’t have any money,” he said in a damn good imitation of a Northeast accent. No wonder he’d blended in so easily after coming here from Chechnya.
Trevor wrapped his hand around the man’s neck and lifted him off the ground, holding him pinned to the wall. “Don’t bother pretending you didn’t hear what I said, Mr. Shishani. I’m not buying it.”
Shishani mumbled something that sounded like okay, but with his hand around the guy’s neck, it was hard to tell.
Trevor let the guy slide down the wall. “Talk.”
Shishani threw Alina a desperate look. “Lady, you have to help me. I was just smiling at you. I had no idea your husband was the jealous type. I swear I don’t know who this Shishani guy is you’re looking for. My name is Smith…Doug Smith.”
Trevor growled softly and picked Shishani up by the throat again, holding him there while Alina moved closer.
“You might as well kill him. He’s not going to talk,” she said calmly. “No one will find him for weeks back here. They certainly won’t smell his body, that’s for sure.”
Shishani’s dark eyes widened as Trevor continued to hold him prisoner. When Trevor dropped him this time, the man was much more cooperative.
“What do you want?” Shishani asked. “I don’t even know who you are. I haven’t done anything to you.”
“You didn’t do anything to me, but you did do something to a friend of mine,” Trevor growled. “You built a bomb that killed a federal agent near Quantico a month ago. I want to know who paid you.”
The man’s eyes bulged as he shook his head. “I can’t talk about that. It would get me killed.”
Trevor tightened his grip on the man’s throat again but didn’t lift him off the ground this time. Beside him, Alina made a show of looking down at her shoes like she was worried she was getting something nasty on them.
“You might be killed if you talk, but you definitely won’t be making it out of this alley if you don’t,” Trevor said. “Your call.”
Shishani glanced at Alina to see if there might be some help coming from that direction. When that didn’t work, he threw a quick look at the parking lot at the end of the alley. No luck there, either.
“Okay, okay. I made the bomb,” the man admitted. “But I swear I didn’t plant it. I didn’t even know who the target was. I got a call on the Sunday before the bombing and was told that I’d be given a large sum of money if I could build a powerful bomb—fast. When I said I couldn’t do it quickly because I had no explosives, I was given the address of a warehouse near Woodbridge. When I went there, I found C-4 plastic explosives, blasting caps, and electronic parts. They were all military-grade material. The best I’ve ever worked with. I didn’t sleep for three nights so I could get it done in time and finished just before I got a call early on Tuesday morning. I delivered the finished bomb in an empty copier paper box to a facility near Quantico. Then I went home. I didn’t know that the bomb had been used to kill someone who worked for the U.S. government until later the next day. Even then, the news did not say who the person was, just that it was
someone who worked there.”
“Who did you deliver the bomb to?” Trevor demanded.
It had been one thing when he’d thought Shishani had made the bomb. Now that he knew for sure, it was difficult not killing the piece of shit on the spot.
“I never saw who picked it up,” Shishani said. “I dropped it off behind the visitor’s center just outside the gate. There was no one in the parking lot when I left, so I have no idea who took it.”
“Who paid you for the bomb?” Trevor asked, his voice coming out in a barely disguised growl.
Shishani looked like he was about to waffle, but whatever he saw in Trevor’s expression must have changed his mind.
“It was Thomas Thorn.” He wet his lips. “I have done many jobs for him over the years. He pays well. He would likely pay you, too, if you keep your nose out of this.”
Trevor glanced at Alina. She looked stunned. He couldn’t blame her. It was one thing to suspect a man like Thorn, but to have actual proof was something else entirely.
“Thorn won’t be paying me anything,” Trevor announced. “Because we’re going to take you straight to the nearest federal attorney’s office, and you’re going to tell them everything you just told me. Word for word.”
Smith shook his head wildly. “I’m not going to do that. It would be suicide!”
Trevor was about to point out that not testifying would be suicide as well, but before he got the chance, the back door slammed open, and heavy footsteps echoed on the ground. He cursed, pissed that he’d been so focused on Shishani that he hadn’t paid attention to what was going on inside the club. He barely had enough time to breathe before four big bouncers raced around the side of the Dumpster, their hands on the weapons holsters behind their backs, their bodies tense and ready for violence.
The sight of Alina standing there in her fancy cocktail dress slowed them for a moment, but then Shishani cried out for help.
Trevor cursed as the armed men whipped out their pistols. It would have been a lot easier if he and Alina had been carrying weapons, but there was no way they would have gotten them past the metal detectors. That meant he had to improvise.
