Covert Danger: Mata Hari Series - Book 1
Page 6
“Oh my,” she said, as they neared the corner, “You finding us a wall?”
“Something like that,” he whispered into her ear, moving his body against hers to communicate in a more primal fashion.
Her cheeks pinked. Oh yeah, he was back in control.
From the corner of his eye, he could see Paul waving for his attention, but Seb ignored him. He’d cornered her. Sadie Stewart was all his. The rest of the room could enjoy the art. He’d enjoy her, or at least as much of her as she was willing to share in such a public place. She looked up at him. Her full lips trembled in a cover girl pout.
“Spill it,” he said.
Her breasts beneath her low-cut dress went up and down as she breathed. Nice cleavage. Feeling her body heat close to his, smelling her scent and watching her lick her lips, yet again, sent his blood rushing to his groin. Damn, she turned him on. He needed to control his desires at least long enough to find out if she was planning on stealing from his gallery or from any of his patrons. It was one thing to flirt with a beautiful thief and quite another to let her take advantage of you.
Taking her hands in his he lifted them above her head and moved in closer. His mouth three inches from hers. “What are you up to?”
She gasped and a torrent of hunger gripped him. He set his jaw. “Sadie, no games. Tell me why you’re here.”
She tilted her pelvis forward and the lower halves of their bodies met. He groaned and spewed a quiet curse in his head. But he held her hands and her gaze firmly.
“Sadie?”
***
Sadie wrinkled her brow. How could she get rid of this giant? Being this close to him threw her hormones into overdrive. His scent so masculine it tickled her clit and created a primal chain-reaction inside her. She wanted him. No, no, no. She couldn’t have him. She couldn’t.
She bit her lip. Talk about lousy timing. She couldn’t let this incredible chemistry go any further, couldn’t let things get any hotter. She bit harder.
And if it did, damn it, she’d be in control. She’d pick the time and the place. His impressive erection pushed into her body, making it impossible for her to think. Please God don’t let me whimper.
He nuzzled her neck. “Sadie?”
She sighed. Enough. She stamped her foot on his and pushed on his rock-solid chest. “Sebastian.” Good Lord his muscles were hard.
“Ow.” He took a half step back and gave her a cocky smile that rippled another wave of lust through her body.
“I don’t think we’ve got off to a good start,” she said.
Sebastian started laughing.
She willed her breathing to return to normal. “Don’t laugh at me.”
“Sadie, leifje, just tell me what you want.”
“I’m here to get my picture taken.”
“Bullshit.”
“And to see the art.”
He furrowed his brows. “What else?”
“Why do you think I’m devious?”
“Because you’re a crook.”
“Sebastian, keep your voice down,” she whispered.
“Only if you give me answers. I’m tired of playing games.”
“Okay, I admit it. I’m here to see you.” She moved closer and gave him a heated look.
He laughed. “Nice try.”
She wanted to scream. He could be so annoying. Playing with forbidden fruit was no longer fun. No one in their right mind would hand her an illegal package if they saw her linked to this guy. And she needed that package. Think, Sadie, think. The art show would be over in thirty minutes. She needed to lose him soon. “Is there somewhere more private we could go?” she cooed.
His blue eyes hardened. “Private?”
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know, but not here. I feel too… ”—she hesitated for drama—“exposed.” She ran a finger down his chest to his belt and let it linger just above it.
His breathing quickened and he leaned in.
“You bastard,” screamed a woman in the middle of the gallery, shattering the quiet murmur of conversations.
Sadie released his belt. Sebastian turned to look.
Amid a crowd of people stood a tall blond dressed in a black dress and jean jacket, with a snake tattoo on her neck that curled up the left side of her face and ended in the region of her third eye. She swung her arm hard towards a man standing opposite her, holding a cold sneer on his face.
The slap resounded in the now quiet room and the crowd moved back from the pair.
“You screwed around on me,” said the dark-haired man who looked like a lawyer. He spoke in a clipped speech pattern.
“You’re married for God’s sake.” She raised her hand a second time.
“Not to you. Thank God.” The man put one hand to the red patch on his cheek where she’d hit him the first time, and the other hand in the air to block a second blow. “You bitch.” The venom in his voice stilled the air.
All eyes in the room were on the couple.
“You’re a lousy lay.” The woman’s voice rattled with suppressed emotion. Her ample breasts rose and fell so dramatically they bounced.
Sadie scanned the room. All eyes were on the couple.
The man smirked. “Look who’s talking. There’s a reason I suggested a ménage. You’re boring in bed.”
“So you’re the woman who’s been sleeping with my husband.” The shrill voice came from a short, dark haired woman approaching the pair, spitting her words into the air. “I’m going to tear your hair out.”
“No,” cried the man. “Janice, please.”
The dark haired, tattooed woman launched her body at the tall blond and they landed on the floor. The man pulled at his wife’s arm. “Janice, don’t kill this one.”
Sebastian shot Sadie a look. “Stay here,” he said.
Like she’d listen to him.
People stood transfixed by the spectacle of the love triangle, like flies caught in a sticky strip. Seb ran to the source and pulled on the man’s arm. He responded by turning around and swinging at Sebastian’s face. Sebastian decked him with one punch. All the while, the women tumbled around on the floor, screaming, biting, kicking and punching—showing a lot of bare legs and rounded asses. Profanity flew through the air like lost ping-pong balls bouncing back and forth. The sound of clothing being torn and screams of pain punctuated sentences. Bare breasts became part of the scene. Bystanders mumbled. Some laughed, but no one interfered.
Sadie headed towards the exit. No one would pass art in the middle of this debacle. She didn’t want to become part of it. Just inside the door a hand nudged her right arm. She turned to find a short, bald man with hazel eyes and a goatee looking intently at her.
“The package,” he said, handing her an elegant, brown leather tote. “We’ll be watching you.” His words slid into her smoothly like a sharp dagger.
Sadie opened her mouth to speak. By the time she thought of something to say, the man had disappeared into the midst of the mayhem.
As she took the package she watched Sebastian pull the women apart. The husband meanwhile, struggled to his feet, slid between people trying to watch the women and fled out the door. Sebastian restored peace pretty damn quickly. He’d be a good man to have beside you in a fight.
She shook her hair away from her face. Hustling looted art had been a fast way to get to Anubis, a means to an end, but Sebastian’s lecture had hit her hard. If only there was another way. If only she could have met Sebastian at another time. If only. Not her chosen way to live a life.
Stringing the long handles of the leather tote over her right shoulder, she put her cape on and re-adjusted her clothing to look chic. People would notice if she looked disheveled and ask questions. People always noticed her. It was the damn cheek bones.
The secret package hung heavy on her shoulder and heavier on her heart. Would it be another Rembrandt? With everything in place she strutted out the front door. She held her chin high like the selfish, self-centered model she pretended to b
e, a freaking mannequin on parade.
Her gut churned with the acid of self-loathing, but she clung to the hope that somehow everything would work out. They tell you at the CIA that it’s all about the greater good. All she needed was a chance to meet Anubis. Moving the looted art would get her there.
Sometimes you get dirty when you fight.
10
Chapter Ten
Sadie’s pulse raced as she walked quickly down the cobble stone street. Building any speed over the uneven surface was impossible. Her heels each took their turn at giving out one way and then the other. “Ouch,” she yelled, as her foot took another side twist and a sharp pain shot up her leg. If only she had a good pair of runners on. Then she’d get her precious package back to Delilah faster than you could say, “There’s a sale on designer ruby slippers.”
But she couldn’t wear runners or go barefoot to an elegant event, so now she had to manage as best she could in her pretty but useless-to-walk-in stilettos.Friggen five-minute shoes. She took them off and slowed her pace. Sweat beaded on her lip. Spies with sprains were useless.
Stopping on the next bridge, her breathing slowed. Moonlight slipped through the clouds, bathing the road in a warm glow. A gentle breeze off the North Sea smoothed the sharp edges of her ragged nerves. The streets hummed with movement. People everywhere, walking, cycling chatting, laughing. Any one of them could be a bad guy—even a truly horrible mobster; but then they could also be a saint. A regular night in Amsterdam—for others.
At moments like this, stolen from her frenetic, double life, she wondered if she’d like to be one of the regular people, have a normal life, maybe a steady man with a dog. Sebastian’s rogue smile filled her mind. A man like that could keep her happy for a long time, but would that be enough? Danger and intrigue kept life interesting.
Ten minutes later she entered her chic bed and breakfast. Safe. She needed to gather herself together and be ready for the next step. Maybe a bubble bath… at least a shower. She climbed the impossibly steep, narrow Dutch stairway to her room.
When she opened the door, she had to work hard not to look surprised at finding Delilah sitting on her bed, a cigar dangling from her mouth and a gun in her hand like a tough dame in a film noir. The gun pointed at Sadie and Dee waved it to indicate she should come in. Sadie counted to five for crazy, as in c—r—a—z—y. Then she closed the door. No matter how annoying the woman’s new behavior became, she’d pretend it was just hunky-dory.
“Got it?” Delilah’s smile trembled and she blinked enough to leave a mascara trail below her eyes. There were some people she’d rather not see the dark side of and Dee had just jumped the line to the top of that list.
Dramatically, Sadie took the package from her tote bag, hidden beneath her cloak. The big reveal. Normally Sadie would take satisfaction in this moment, but not this time. The parcel contained an ancient relic. Trafficking made her feel black like suet inside. As she handed it over to Dee, she cringed.
Not noticing, Dee stubbed out her smoke and grabbed the package. She smoothed its edges with her hands, held it to her heart and strode across the room and back again, muttering words Sadie couldn’t quite make out. Just as she considered doing her c-r-a-z-y count again, Dee stopped in front of her. The wild glint in her eyes couldn’t mean anything good.
“I’m not supposed to look inside,” she said shaking her head to flick her black bangs out of her eyes. “But I have to.”
Sadie let her finely threaded eyebrows rise. It didn’t seem like a great idea to her, either as a simple-minded model or as a savvy spy. “You sure about this?”
Dee ignored her and unwrapped the first layer carefully, only to find another layer.
“Aren’t you supposed to take it directly to your boss?” Sadie asked.
Delilah’s feral look grazed her like a shower of acid. “I have to know.” She tugged at the second layer and it came away, exposing a white cardboard box about four by six inches, and three inches in depth. “Yes.” Dee said.
“I was told to take it to him.” Again, the wicked, self-satisfied smirk and a tone of voice that cut into Sadie like a jig saw blade. “But I have a right to know what I’m moving. If I die, at least I know what got me killed.” She laughed and the dry, empty sound chilled the already cold room.
Sadie swallowed. “Are you sure you want to cross your boss? He sounds dangerous.”
“I can rewrap it. He doesn’t have to know.” Dee’s face shone with a thin layer of perspiration. With a trembling hand she touched the lid of the box and paused. “You only live once.” Then she opened it and her face lit up.
Sadie moved closer to see the contents. Her chest tightened. She’d enjoyed the excitement of being a cat burglar, but this was doing something behind Anubis’s back was a whole different designer line of intrigue. She stretched her neck.
Dee pulled out three items wrapped in tissue paper and placed them on the coffee table: a silver bracelet, with the Eye of Ra engraved on it, a gold ankh necklace, and a scarab ring inlaid with precious gems. Sadie swallowed and moved closer. “Are they what I think they are?”
Dee picked up the bracelet. “Ancient Egyptian amulets.” She turned the silver bangle in her hand, looking at the hieroglyphics etched on the side.
It shimmered in the light. Could she be imagining this? “I’ve only seen things like this in a museum.”
Delilah nodded and smiled. “They have power,” she said. “Many have died protecting them.”
“Power?” Okay, now she could officially add Dee to the wing-nut list. They were shiny in a weird, ethereal way, but jewels and precious metals did that, and the slice of moonlight coming through the window contributed to the eerie affect. Power? All in the imagination.
Dee lifted the bracelet towards the light. “This one comes from the Middle Kingdom. I know this because you can see drawings of deities on it.”
“Ancient Egyptian gods?” A shudder crawled slowly up Sadie’s spine. She took a deep steadying breath.
“Yes. The Egyptian civilization started over three thousand years before Christ and lasted three thousand years. They amassed great wisdom in that time and kept their secrets in a library in Alexandria. While many of their scrolls were destroyed, some have remained. They all talk about the power of their amulets.” Her voice deepened.
“You seem to know a lot about them.”
“I’ve been researching my new boss, Bakari al-Sharif.”
Finally—she had named him.
“He’s an Egyptian who made millions in his twenties in the arms trade. He’s one of the richest men in the world. His brother has taken over the so-called family business and he lives like a gentleman in Cairo.”
A gentleman who beheads his wives. But Sadie didn’t say that.
“He,” continued Dee, “appears to be a philanthropist, with a passion for learning about the history of his homeland. He’s financed the latest dig around the Sphinx. Anyway—I don’t believe his interests are academic. Not a man like him. I think he’s after power. The power I now hold in my hands.”
So Delilah wasn’t as stupid as she looked. Sadie nodded. “You’ve met this man?”
“No, not yet. I deal with one of his people, a guy with weird eyes named Gahiji, which means hunter. He’s one scary dude and I’m sure he’d slice my neck if I crossed him.”
“Why do I get the feeling there’s a ‘but’ in this?”
“When you know what a man wants, you can make him your slave. And I know what Bakari wants. Even better… I know why he wants it. I have power over him.”
“What are you saying?”
“Don’t worry your pretty little mannequin head. I’ll take care of everything.” She picked up the second amulet, a leather necklace with an ankh, and turned it over in her hands. “Look at this one.” She held it up to the light. “Do you know what this is?”
Of course Sadie did, but she shook her head. It didn’t make the air around it shimmer in waves the way the bracelet did,
but it still vibrated with energy. Pulled her? Ethereal energy? Too much champagne.
“It’s an ankh,” Delilah said with authority as if she lectured to a university class. “The Egyptian symbol for eternity. They used them in their art, and wore them to give them strength. They believed the amulets had healing power.”
Her eyes glistened. “I’m not getting enough money for this. It looks like pure gold. The ancient Egyptians believed gold was divine because of the way it shines. They considered it the flesh of the sun god, Ra. What we have here is priceless. And people pay big for priceless.”
“So… you’re going to ask for more money?” How stupid could she be?
“These amulets are worth a few million and they’re paying me thousands, which I then have to share with you. It’s not enough.” She took a cigarette out of a box in her purse. With trembling fingers she lit it. Within a minute she blew a plume of smoke into the air. Then she shook her hair out of her face, which had paled.
“Do you really think you’re in a bargaining position?” Sadie asked. Dee had never talked about her end of the business before. “That Gahiji sounds dangerous.”
“With three amulets in my hand I’d say we have all the bargaining chips we need.” She chuckled.
“Are you high?” asked Sadie.
“Maybe a little, but not too high to see an opportunity. Look at this scarab ring.” She picked it up and put it on her finger. “The wings are inlaid with strips of turquoise and lapis lazuli, the thorax and head with green stone and cornelian. It’s exquisite.”
Sadie sniffed the air, but she could only detect cigarette smoke. Must be cocaine on top of her regular wine. She’d seen plenty of the white stuff on her modeling tours and all the messes people got into because of it. She needed to talk some sense into the woman. “It’s probably safe on Egyptian royalty, but not on you. I’m guessing the boss-man will not be impressed by this conversation about brokering new deals in the middle of a smuggling job.”
“You have to keep men in their place, honey. I keep telling you that. You don’t let them run the show. They couldn’t have got these treasure items without our help, and they’re going to pay for it.”