Dirty Games

by HelenKay Dimon

Kamir shook his head. “You get it.”

  The tension in Rania’s shoulders eased as she sat back against the seat again. “I was told you were the right brother.”

  He’d heard the exact opposite from Justin earlier. “For what?”

  The corner of Rania’s mouth lifted in a smile. “Getting things done.”

  Chapter 3

  When Finn walked back into the tent, more than six hours later, the sun had set but Justin was not one inch closer to feeling in control around the guy. He’d thought about Finn far too much all afternoon. Weighed every word he’d said. Remembered the deep soothing sound of his voice.

  Justin had no idea what it was about this one guy, this specific Drummond brother, that stole his common sense, but it had been that way from the start. He’d first spied Finn—younger and oh-so-cocky, standing with a woman hanging off his arm—six years ago. One look and Justin’s breath had stammered in his chest.

  The smile hit Justin first. Warm, inviting. A guy’s smile never made him do a double take before. He couldn’t say that anymore.

  Finn Drummond topped off the welcoming glance with a wave. His grin had a sexy want-to-go-a-round-with-me challenge to it. And how fucking hot was that dimple in his cheek?

  Alec stepped up beside Justin in the Drummond conference room and stared out the glass into the hallway. “That’s Finn.”

  “Your brother.” Well, that sucked. Sleeping with the boss, even the baby boss, was not Justin’s thing, no matter how fine the guy’s ass was.

  “Smart, young.” Alec shrugged. “You know the type.”

  Justin knew to stay away from the type, especially when a petite blond woman stood smashed up against him. “And the woman?”

  “His girlfriend.” Alec glanced at Justin then his eyes narrowed. “Is that a problem?”

  Probably a good thing, actually. Justin wasn’t interested in trying to convert anyone or being the bed partner in someone’s walk on the wild side. “I don’t know. I’ve never had a girlfriend.”

  “Me either, but Finn’s in love. Look at the body language.” Alec nodded in his brother’s direction. “He stands close enough for their arms to touch. Dips his head and gives her contact. Shares a room and a bed with her, which is the obvious clue.”

  Justin didn’t notice anything but the long legs, the sharp lines and bulges of Finn’s biceps under that sweater. Those he definitely saw. For a second, that’s all he could see while he imagined opening that metal buckle and unzipping Finn’s slim-fitting black jeans.

  Heat spilled through Justin and he had to shake his head get rid of the image. “I don’t really get straight people.”

  Alec slapped Justin on the back. “That makes two of us.”

  Justin blinked away the memory. He should have hated the entitled rich kid and everything he stood for—having things handed to him, believing he’d earned respect when he hadn’t, throwing his money around.

  That mindset didn’t make any sense to Justin. He’d been raised poor. As in no electricity and a food supply that consisted of what he could steal, dig up or kill. Life had changed. The Army had shaped him and provided a steady paycheck. So did this job, but the scrawny little kid who’d never had anything to his name still lived deep inside him.

  Justin never forgot how easy it was to lose everything. How close most people lived to the edge. So, when potential donors came around and started talking about millions like they carried that much around in their wallets, old resentments came rushing to the surface. He worked hard to tamp them down, but when pushed, that was the defense he retreated to, no matter how hard he tried to break the habit.

  A positive was the way Finn acted and the intelligent questions he’d asked even back then, when he was just out of college—he didn’t come off like the usual spoiled brat. He wasn’t a jerk who waved his wallet around, making demands. Hadn’t complained about one thing.

  He was nothing like the stereotype Justin always assumed he would become, which only intensified his attraction to Finn. And seeing him now, older and more self-assured, fully in command and determined not to back down, Justin’s determination to ignore him faltered.

  But he refused to believe he had a thing for Finn. Straight guys didn’t interest him. No fucking thank you. No, this was some weird fantasy. Chemical, raw and kind of wild. Probably a bit of a he’s-sexier-because-he’s-not-available thing. That explained it. It had to.

  But even he had to admit that the last time they met had tested his control. Eleven months ago. The thumping in his gut. The energy whipping around him. The desperate need to move in and take hold. Logically, Justin knew the attraction ran one way. But that meeting…something felt different.

  So, this time he’d dodge the problem. Deal with Finn and send him on his way, not thinking about him again. But he’d have to work on getting that defensive shield up. It refused to lock into place at the moment.

  Since he didn’t want to let Finn know how much he got to him, Justin barely looked up from his laptop to greet him. “Done with your sightseeing tour?”

  “Oh, good. I was afraid your attitude might have gotten better over the last few hours.”

  Finn’s exhale was loud enough to bounce across the room and grab Justin’s attention. Of course Finn looked untouched and rumple-free after running around in the heat…of course he did.

  But if the cold reception upset Finn, he didn’t let it show. A faint smile played on his mouth as he scanned the supply distribution grids and transportation schedules that lined the walls. Finn gave the entire room a quick glance before taking the seat across from Justin.

  A few members of Justin’s staff looked up and watched the quiet showdown. Finn didn’t appear to notice that either. No, his attention stayed focused on Justin to the point where Justin, who never squirmed or fidgeted, had to fight the urge to stand up and start pacing. The unspent energy roaring through him made it tough to concentrate. So did the perfect face across the desk staring at him with those big eyes.

  Yeah, he needed to call a halt to this. “I don’t have time for—”

  “Where’s Oliver?” Finn asked, his gaze moving again, from the filing cabinets to the color-coded map on the wall.

  “Why, do you need a bodyguard?”

  “I thought maybe having a witness to our meeting wouldn’t be a bad thing.” Finn glanced at the charity workers sitting about twenty feet away, hovering around a file on a table. His voice stayed low and steady. “You know, in case I need to kick your ass.”

  When Finn said “ass,” Justin’s head nearly exploded. Clearly it had been too long since he’d left Morocco and done anything involving another guy’s ass. “Please try.”

  “Justin, come on.” Finn leaned forward and balanced his elbows on the edge of the desk. “What is your problem with me? After all these years you should just say it.”

  “The usual.” Justin shrugged. “Entitled rich boys are not my thing.”

  That was true on one level, but the issue with Finn had almost nothing to do with the size of his bank account. Still, it was a good wall to hide behind with this attraction kicking his butt, so Justin used it.

  Finn exhaled. Made quite a show of it, too. Threw in an eye roll. All very dramatic and targeted to send one clear message—you’re an asshole. Justin had to admit Finn wasn’t wrong on that score. He knew he was acting over-the-top, even for him. Finn stepped into camp and Justin’s brain just switched to attack mode. He came out fighting because that’s the only weapon he had in this unwanted battle.

  “Tell me about the missing shipments.” Finn didn’t drop his voice to a whisper, but he kept it low. Intimate enough to stay only between them.

  The rough sound licked across Justin’s frayed nerves. Every intelligent thought left his head. He sat there trying to remember how to breathe, as Finn stared.

  “You’re on, Justin. Spe
ak.” Finn lifted his hands and confusion moved into his eyes.

  Justin stood up and walked to the front doors, the farthest point in the tent from the other workers, and motioned for Finn to follow. He could clear the room like he did before, but if he kept insisting on private talks with Finn, his people would know something was up and Justin didn’t want to play that game. He couldn’t afford to tip anyone off about his concerns until he knew what was going on with the shipments.

  Justin shifted so his back was to the rest of the open area. “In addition to our relocation work, we supply food, tents, water, clothing and basic supplies to displaced people passing through and to the refugees temporarily living here, hoping to get into Spain and other locations.”

  “I see your monthly reports. I know what you do here.”

  The rest of the explanation slammed to a halt in Justin’s brain. “You do?”

  “Of course.” Finn leaned against the file cabinet by the left door. “I’ve also read all of the correspondence between you and Alec, so you can fast-forward through the basics.”

  Justin pushed his frustration away and focused on this issue because it was too important to screw up. “Then you know that shipments have been showing up short on items and a few shipments have gone missing.”

  Finn crossed his arms in front of him. “Is that so unusual?”

  “Once or twice over an extended period of time, no. Shipments get lost or stolen. Sometimes they’re used to barter out of a dangerous situation or they’re traded for other items needed in an emergency. All valid circumstances.”

  Finn nodded. “I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

  “Some shipments have been diverted.” Justin hesitated, letting the ramifications of that point sink in. “That’s the part I couldn’t put in the correspondence. It’s a huge problem that requires a lot of company firepower and more than a little finesse and confidentiality.”

  “You’ll have all the firepower you need.” Finn waved that comment off as he stepped in closer. Stood right in front of Justin until only a few inches separated them. “Now explain what you mean by diverted.”

  Fuck, he even smells good. Justin battled between backing up and moving in until nothing separated them. His brain knew there was only one right choice, but his body begged for the other. After a bit of struggle, not moving won.

  “We’ve had trouble, outside of Morocco and inside, with guns getting into the wrong hands and resulting in attacks.” When Finn didn’t say anything, Justin got more specific. “Serious weapons, Finn.”

  “Since when do we ship or pay for any weapons?”

  The look, a mix of disgust and horror, was exactly the response Justin wanted. He was relieved to see it. “That’s the point. The food, medicine and supplies are being traded for or used to purchase weapons. Or…”

  “What?”

  “It’s possible, in some cases, shipments got transferred out and you really are transporting weapons from one country to another, avoiding the usual inspections and protections under the guise of moving food and medical supplies.” When Finn’s eyes widened, Justin rushed to explain. “Something is going wrong here. I have the paperwork to back up some of my concerns.”

  “And?”

  “I’ve been tracking, matching up the missing shipments with each new flood of arms we can identify in the region.” That was already more than Justin wanted to disclose, but Finn didn’t look ready to let the topic go.

  “How did you…?” Finn shook his head. “That doesn’t matter now. Let me see what you’ve got.”

  Justin was grateful Finn dropped the original question. He didn’t want to launch into a detailed description of his network of behind-the-scenes informants who relayed details to him. More than one of those people worked in the transportation chain. Another worked in distribution in Algeria. Justin refused to name any of them or put them in danger, but he could provide enough intel to make Finn understand the potential scope of the problem. “It’s in the safe at my tent.”

  Finn’s gaze landed on the cot next to Justin’s desk. “There?”

  “That’s for when I crash in here. I actually have separate private quarters.”

  “Sounds good.” Finn nodded toward the doors and started to move. “Let’s go.”

  Not exactly what Justin had in mind when he thought about sharing information. “Excuse me?”

  Even with the shuffling and moving of chairs behind them in the tent as an impromptu meeting broke up, Finn’s intense gaze never strayed from Justin. He didn’t even blink. “I want to see the documents, whatever evidence you’ve collected. It’s the only way we can figure out what’s really happening and stop it.”

  All reasonable but Justin didn’t feel reasonable when it came to Finn. Hot, on edge, aching to touch him but knowing he couldn’t—yes—none of it reasonable. He tried to put that into a benign comment Finn might understand. “I’m not in the habit of inviting my boss to my living space.”

  Finn’s eyes narrowed. “I promise not to make a pass.”

  He was pretty sure his brain had misfired and he’d heard that wrong. “What?”

  “Justin, is this really a problem for you?”

  Just then the door swung open. “Pardon.” Oliver looked from Finn to Justin. “How are we doing in here?”

  “Fine.” Finn continued to stare at Justin. “But we’re heading out.”

  Oliver kept looking back and forth between Finn and Justin. “Did I miss something?”

  “He’s going to show me his place.” Finn ended the comment by pushing the door open and taking one step outside toward the fading sunshine.

  “Fantastic,” Oliver said in a tone that suggested he felt just the opposite.

  “I’ll let Karim and Rania know where we’re moving.” Finn nodded and started to leave.

  “Your interpreter and driver?” Oliver asked.

  “Also known as my bodyguards.”

  Justin couldn’t really keep up with the conversation. It seemed to be circling around a topic he barely cared about. He wanted to go back a few steps. Finn said something about a pass. A joke, sure, but why even go there?

  Before he could ask, Oliver jumped in again. “You only have two guards?”

  Finn shrugged. “How many do I need?”

  “Good question.” Oliver turned to face Justin, his eyes gleaming with what looked like amusement. “I need to talk with you. Now would be preferable rather than later.”

  Not exactly what Justin wanted to hear but he didn’t fight it. He glanced at Finn. “I’ll be outside in a second.”

  The door swung closed and Finn was gone. Workers toiled away at the far side of the tent. A few looked up, doing a shitty job of pretending not to be watching every move.

  Justin understood the interest. Not many billionaires stumbled into the camp. He hadn’t even announced Finn’s arrival or introduced him and still the whispers raced through camp. Every single hardworking employee and volunteer seemed to know that one of the Drummonds was visiting and strained to get a good look at him. Not that Justin could blame them for that last part.

  “Are you still with me?” Oliver snapped his fingers in front of Justin’s face.

  “Don’t do that. Ever.”

  “Did I misunderstand? Your plan is to take him back to your private tent?”

  The idea sounded even worse out loud. Justin could control his urges. He wasn’t a fucking animal, but he didn’t want Finn in his private space. He really didn’t allow anyone in there except Oliver and a few others, and even those visits generally resulted from an invitation and consisted of a few drinks and some conversation before he ushered them out again.

  Out here the nights were long and sweaty. Few things punctuated the long stretches of boredom and rule following. To break the monotony—and that’s all it was—he’d dreamed about Finn fo
r years. Gotten lost in dirty, naked fantasies of him. Now Finn would actually be standing there in Justin’s space, right by the bed.

  Justin tried to push all of that out of his head and concentrated on knocking the stupid grin off Oliver’s face. “It’s not that.”

  “Okay.” Somehow Oliver made the word last for five syllables. “Look, you can skip the excuses and explanations because we both know you’re asking for trouble.”

  “Are you afraid I’ll blow up at him and lose my job?” That was the least of Justin’s worries, but after the initial meeting when Finn arrived, Justin could understand Oliver having that concern.

  “More like you’ll try to get him naked, the whole thing will go to hell and all of us will pay for your poor decisions. Mostly me.” Oliver leaned in, with his voice dipping even lower until it barely registered above a whisper. “Which will be fantastic, by the way.”

  “He’s not gay.” Justin should have objected to everything Oliver said, but for some reason the naked part was what he latched onto.

  “Right.”

  Oliver maintained his usual outward calm, but Justin sensed it cost him. Oliver looked like a man who wanted to say more and stopped.

  “He had a girlfriend when I met him years ago,” Justin said, feeling the inexplicable need to explain.

  “He was staring at your arse, or as you American heathens say in your nasal accent, ass.” The fake twang rang out only on the last word. The rest of the comment stayed muffled and just between the two of them.

  “That’s not…wait.” Justin’s brain sputtered to a halt. He searched for a way to move the discussion forward but actually could not find the words to put together a coherent sentence. “What?”

  “He watches you almost as much as you watch him.”

  Yes, in frustration. Justin understood that much. “Those looks are about mutual distrust.”

  This time Oliver scoffed. “Believe me, he wasn’t staring at your distrust.”

  That couldn’t be true. Justin ran through every second of the conversation with Finn, every movement. He hadn’t picked up on any interest. Lots of emotion and a good bit of jaw-clenched frustration, which Justin admitted he likely deserved, but that was it.