by Kylie Brant
“But you’ve shared none of that with your family.”
She hesitated. “This sounds like a cop out, but they’re better off not knowing. They wouldn’t understand the value in what I do. Would concentrate on the risk that sometimes accompanies my work, without giving any consideration for the reward.” And the satisfaction she received from some of the covert assignments she’d been given far exceeded that elicited from simple interpretation and translation services. “They understand the tangible. Progress made in research. Advancements in science and technology that will help humanity. They would grapple comprehending the intrinsic rewards of helping individuals.”
“Like being the one responsible for twenty-nine women.”
“Not solely responsible, but having a hand in it, yes.” It was easy to talk to him like this, wrapped in a lazy cocoon of intimacy. Easy to share things she’d spent a lifetime tucking away. “It makes them sound like bad people. They aren’t. They’re just very focused, and that focus doesn’t leave room for things outside their careers.”
“You cut them a bit more slack than I would. But it’s hard not to be able to share your work with those closest to you.”
She thought about that, and wondered if he found it true. “Maybe it’s a trade off. My parents and siblings gravitated toward spouses who shared the same interests, similar jobs, and opinions on just about everything. Which is fine, for them, but I always wondered, where’s…”
“…the chemistry.”
“Exactly.” She turned in his arms then, tipped her face up to his. “There has to be more to a relationship than seeking a carbon copy of myself.” Like passion. Romance. Adventure. Her mind skirted the fact that this man embodied all three.
“People think of risk as physical danger.” His tone was contemplative. One hand stroked absently down her spine. Up again. “In my family the gamble is all emotional. Most of them leapfrog in and out of relationships so fast I can’t keep track of them. None seem to have the staying power that gran and grandda have, and that’s a bit daunting. Maybe finding someone similar to yourself is a way to minimize the chance you’ll tire of them.”
“Maybe.” But it sounded boring, and perhaps that was the reason she’d been more than a little selective with the men she dated. She’d spent her life in a state of suspended animation, waiting to break free of the family expectations that had just never fit her. Adulthood had brought with it the freedom to discover the things that did fit. Her stomach did a little flip as she realized that this man was one of them.
His hand settled on her hip, suffusing her with heat. “Knowing that you have experience with covert work doesn’t make a bit of difference in one regard. “It’s not going to make me worry about you less during this thing, any more than you knowing my experience will negate yours. You’re under my skin, Evie. Don’t know how it happened. Just that it did. So I’m going to reserve the right to mitigate the risk where you’re concerned. And I damn well won’t apologize for that.”
A curl of warmth spread through her belly. So she was under his skin. She could appreciate the sentiment. Declan Gallagher had lodged himself firmly in her mind since the first time she’d laid eyes on him. “No apology necessary.”
“Good.” His teeth raked lightly at her shoulder. “Because I’ve used up my ratio with you.”
There was nothing apologetic in the pressure of his mouth when it settled against hers. Nothing tentative in the way she returned his kiss. When they’d first made love he’d ignited something inside her she’d never realized was banked and simmering. Now that she knew the feel of his flesh against hers, the glide of his hands on her skin, that fire inside could be summoned more easily. Hooking her leg over his thigh, she scored his bottom lip with her teeth and let herself sink into the flames.
His hand swept under her satin nightshirt and had it up and over her head in a rushed movement that spoke of greed. She welcomed it. Returned it. Her fingers flexed on his biceps as her tongue did battle with his. One touch from him torched her control. The recognition would have alarmed her if she didn’t feel the way his heart was thudding in his chest. Heard his breathing grow ragged. And knew that he felt the same wild coursing in his blood that she did.
Without releasing her lips, he cupped her breasts, brushing his thumbs along the sides before taking her nipples between his fingers to roll them gently. They peaked beneath his touch and Eve reached down to push his boxer briefs over his hips to drag them down his thighs. He kicked them away. She didn’t want slow, and she didn’t want gentle. It may have taken her a while to be certain of just what she was looking for, but she knew she’d found it. This man. This moment. It was more. He was more than she’d ever thought to find.
She reached for him, felt his shaft leap and pulse in her hand. Her fingers closed around and she stroked him with a rhythm designed to drive them both a bit mad.
His touch was incinerating any thought of restraint. One moment caressing, the next just a few degrees shy of rough. His hand slipped between her thighs, rubbing lightly at the dampness there. Last time he’d reduced her to a shuddering heap. Tonight she was determined to return the favor. But first she had to evade those clever knowing hands. That expert seeking mouth.
When she pulled away from him, he made a move to stop her. But his movements halted when she embarked on a sensual journey of discovery.
With her lips she traced the angles on his chest, the dips and rises of his muscles and ribs. Moving lower she swirled her tongue in the slight indentation of his navel. Trailed her finger along the ribbon of hair to where it arrowed to his sex.
The muscles in his belly clenched and jumped beneath her touch, the evidence of his reaction firing sparks of desire through her system. His penis was engorged, quivering. And when she took him in her mouth, his hips jerked helplessly.
She wrapped her fingers around his shaft to stroke as she used the tip of her tongue to lash at the sensitive tip. And let the dark flavor of him work through her until it joined the fever in her blood.
He withstood the sensual torment for long moments. But when her intent changed, when the soft suction grew stronger, his fingers tightened on her shoulders. Urged her higher.
“Not this time. Not without you.” It pleased her that his voice was ragged. And she was more than willing to comply with his request. The desperation had returned. Intensified. And when he reached for a foil wrapper on the bedside table, she took it from him with fingers more than a little unsteady. Opened it. And rolled it over his length while everything inside her went to steamy molten heat.
She’d never wanted safe and comfortable and had found neither with this man. What she found was more, far more than she’d ever thought to discover. She didn’t recognize herself with him, and although she knew the fact should frighten her, Eve found it exhilarating.
Positioning herself over him she took him in, a fraction of an inch at a time. Her slowness had beads of perspiration sheening Declan’s forehead. But although his fingers clenched on her hips, he allowed her to set the pace. Groaned when she’d finally seated him completely inside her.
Her head fell back as she began to move, her eyes sliding closed in pleasure at the delicious friction. She’d meant to go slow and easy, but need streaked through her, unexpected and debilitating, dictating a more frenetic pace. His control snapped and his hips surged powerfully under hers. The frantic rhythm had pleasure crowding in, threatening to pull her in, push her over. She forced her eyelids open, determined that she wouldn’t fall alone.
And seeing him, eyes silvered in the shadows, fixed intently on her, had her heart stuttering. Then filling. And when she shattered, riding the release in a rainbow of pleasure, she felt him crest a moment later, their bodies shuddering and quaking together. And knew, though conscious thought wasn’t possible, that she’d found what she’d never known she’d been seeking.
_______
They were able to take a bus to the Johor Bahru City Square, which boasted a four-story mall that rivaled anything DC had to offer. If Eve enjoyed shopping, she would have been in seventh heaven. As it was the multitude of shops were both daunting and frustrating. She longed for the ease of online shopping.
They’d split up. She and Declan went to the mall while Kellan and Finn checked out bin Osman’s residence in town. Putting off the inevitable as long as possible, she slowed as they passed an Internet café tucked into the first floor. Glanced at Declan.
His expression was resigned. He’d voiced no objection this morning when they’d resumed their discussion of their next steps, but Eve wasn’t fooled. He’d do whatever he could to keep her away from the face of danger in their time here. She could hardly fault him for that, when she felt the same way about him.
“As long as we’re doing this, I have an idea for some intelligence gathering.”
He spoke in Scottish Gaelic, which told her that his idea had something to do with Royce’s kidnapping. “Why don’t you buy about thirty minutes of computer time and a couple of coffees.” He pulled out her wallet and handed her a bill.
“It’s not going to take more than a couple minutes to sent the email.”
His smile was cocky. “It will if we send more than an email.” He didn’t say more, just sauntered over to the furthest computer and pulled up an extra seat. She went to the register and bought them each a kopi, Malaysian coffees, and paid for computer time. The cups she had to set on a nearby empty table, as numerous signs printed in Malay and Chinese warned users from having beverages near the computers.
She took a sip from hers before asking, “So what’s your idea?”
He patted the chair next to him and she left the coffee to join him before the screen. “We know Pascal is close to bin Osman. I did a little research on him, didn’t find out much. Stillions would be able to get the dirt on him, if there is any. But I’m guessing I can learn a lot more if I can get into his computer, take a look around at the files he keeps.”
Eve sent him a careful glance. “Did you learn how to do that in cyber crimes?”
“My ability with all things digital was the reason I got into cyber crimes.” He reached to snatch the coffee off the table and took a quick drink, keeping a careful eye on the teen at the register. “Go ahead. Access the phony email account I set up for you earlier.”
Still unsure what he was about, she did as he requested and quickly composed the email they’d talked about, telling the man that she believed someone she knew would be trying to contact bin Osman about a delivery in the States, and that she was willing to pay well for any information regarding the individual’s whereabouts. When she was about to sign off, he said, “Add a line that you aren’t sure what name he’ll be using, so you’re enclosing a picture.”
Her fingers poised over the keys, she pointed out, “I don’t have a picture of Malsovic.”
“I’ll email you one.”
She quickly typed the sentence, signed the email and then waited.
“Okay.” He saved the email as a draft and then pulled out his phone, brought up a photo of Malsovic and sent it to her new email address. They waited a minute for it to arrive and when it did Declan bent over the computer and started typing furiously.
“You’re writing more code. But what’s it for?”
“I’m constructing a Trojan Horse that will infect his computer when he clicks on the photo.” He didn’t look up from his task. “I’ll shrink the picture down, too small to be seen clearly and the normal reaction will be to click on it, make it larger. When he does so, the code will open a portal into his computer that will allow me to go on a virtual tour, looking at whatever I like.”
She’d heard of such things. It was often the way malware got into a computer, but she couldn’t imagine him knowing how to construct the language to make it possible. Computer code was a foreign language all it’s own, Eve decided. One she had no interest in ever learning.
“What if he doesn’t click on it?”
“Then we’re screwed. The Trojan Horse only works if he activates the code, in this case hidden in the picture itself. Give me a sec.”
Because he seemed to need silence, Eve got up and went to the table, drinking her coffee as she watched the other patrons of the store. She intercepted more than a few open stares and knew that it was her hair that garnered attention. It was a reminder of the need for the shopping she’d have to do after Declan was finished.
Twenty minutes later his chair scraped as her closed out of the computer and rose. “All right. I got the photo attached to the email draft, signed it with the name you’ll be using and sent. Even if he doesn’t agree to meet with you, he still might be curious enough look at the picture. It’s worth a shot.” He reached for the coffee, made a face when he drank and discovered it lukewarm. But he carried it with him out of the shop
He sipped from the coffee as she crossed the tiled area swiftly, heading to the stairs. “You move faster when you’re shopping,” he observed.
“So I can leave quicker,” she muttered. She slowed to take a drink. Eve had a feeling she was going to require the fortification.
“You know what the most interesting thing about this place is?” he asked in Scottish as they climbed the stairs and Eve surveyed the shops on the first floor. “Other than the writing on the shops, we could almost be in a mall in the States.”
It was true enough. Even the range in the style of dress, from shorts and tee shirts to more traditional Muslim garb could be seen in DC. Some shops even had names spelled in English.
She slowed in front of one of them. “One store. Ten minutes.”
He grinned, a quick flash of teeth. “I’ll time you.”
It was more like eighteen minutes and that had been long enough. But Declan’s expression when Eve walked out of the boutique carrying two bags was shocked enough to make her feel like her time had been well spent. “They allowed me to wear one of the outfits out.” Had been more than happy to cut off the tags so she could do so.
The black slacks and simple white cotton blouse with three quarter sleeves was modest, but not out of place in any culture. The hijab she wore was gray, and covered her head and neck, leaving only her face bare. She had the dark thought that the garment would negate any worry about what the humidity did to her hair. Maybe she should consider wearing one back home whenever it rained.
Declan pulled out his phone and read a text. “Kell says they’ve got bin Osman’s place in sight. It’s heavily secured. No way Malsovic is getting to the man without an invite.” He broke off to halt in front of a store window and cupping her elbow, ushered her inside. When they’d exited he was carrying more bags than she was, and looking exceedingly pleased with himself.
“Christmas gifts?” It was a rare experience for her to shop, and she couldn’t recall ever doing it before with a man. And especially not one who seemed to take such pleasure in selecting items.
“Gran will make something creative out of the fabric. What’s the clerk call it? Batik? And grandda collects miniatures. My grandfather is the most difficult to buy for, since he owns half of the east coast.” She shot him a glance. Wasn’t sure from his expression if he was joking. “But other than being a wine connoisseur he’s something of a tea aficionado. It’s a sure bet he has no Malaysian teas in his cupboard.”
“So…you just buy them things you think they’ll like? And they’re okay with that?” The idea was foreign to her. Even once her family had started exchanging gifts, they were quite specific about what to buy, even going so far as to send along links for the suggested item. She’d learned to do the same, after she’d ended up with a replica of the Hubble telescope and tickets to an engineering festival. Anything Declan had bought minutes earlier would be infinitely preferable.
“Sometimes you strike out.” They descended the stairs and
headed across the ground floor of the mall. “But if you know someone well enough you should be able to select something that suits them. And before you ask,” he added with a sidelong glance, “if I were to select something for you, I already know what it would be.”
It was a declaration meant to provoke. And not for the life of her would she inquire further, although he clearly wanted her to.
“Lucky for you that won’t be necessary,” she said airily. But couldn’t banish the thought.
“It’s the blue dress,” he informed her as they strolled out from the mall into the garden that fronted one side. “The one you tried on in that shop in DC when we were trying to lose our tail.” His smile was slow and wicked and completely devastating. “Although given the way you looked in it, it would really be a gift for both of us.”
His gaze had liquid fire spreading through her veins. And the fact that it took just a look from him to summon an instant heated response was enough to tell Eve that she was in way too deep where Declan Gallagher was concerned. And she wasn’t quite sure what she was going to do about that.
A cell alert sounded and both of them searched for the phones in a move that could have been choreographed. “Mine,” he said, shifting packages to one hand so he could bring up the message with his thumb. He stopped to read it so she halted beside him. There was no precipitation, but the clouds forming overhead heralded its imminent arrival. Declan’s darkening expression was a reflection of the skyline.
“Stillions sent along some intel,” he said in Scottish and the two of them started moving again. “I’d been wondering how bin Osman recovered so quickly after fleeing the US seven years ago. Apparently he made his fortune by murdering one of the most notorious criminals in the city and took over the man’s empire.”
“And that’s the man Royce would be sold to.” Eve shuddered, although the temperatures were already in the low eighties. She’d held on to the fact that the boy was likely to be physically unharmed if Malsovic meant to sell him to the man believed to be his father.
