Dark Cover (The DARK Files #2) Page 13

  “I’m hitting the shower. We won’t know any more about those guys tonight.” He started to walk away.

  “Nick, you can’t be responsible for everything. You’re no more responsible for my safety than you were for whatever happened in Somalia.” Which he still hadn’t spelled out for her.

  Halfway across the room, he stopped and pivoted. Light from the hallway silhouetted him. The stiff set of his shoulders, the tight stance, the deceptively casual curl of his hands alongside his sinewy thighs said she’d touched more than one nerve. Swallowing her trepidation, she waited. She couldn’t see his face, but knew his brows had pulled together over a formidable glare.

  “What do you mean? Do you know something I don’t?”

  “Not yet. I’ve been … researching. On the computer. The sparse data about that mission is suspicious.”

  “Suspicious. How?” In precise, military strides, he returned to face her. Tension rolled off him like sweat.

  She forced herself to look into his frosty eyes. “The four men who died are listed as killed in combat, with no details. Reports filed by your commander and his exec are just as sketchy as the paragraph in your file.”

  “Cover-up,” he said in a flat tone. “No surprise. The mission was classified. That doesn’t absolve me. I know what happened. What I did and failed to do.”

  She shook her head. “Other classified ops have been leaked. Never this one. Why would command protect a green assistant operations sergeant?”

  Approaching footsteps brought Nick’s head around. He hunched over in a combative stance.

  Grant Snow appeared in the doorway. He flicked on the overhead lights.

  Nick straightened slowly, his face a bland mask.

  “What’re you two doing here in the dark? Show’s long over.” Holding up a sheaf of papers, Snow crossed to them.

  “Let me guess,” Vanessa said. “Our burglars have warbled like the proverbial stool pigeons. DARK has Husam Al-Din in custody. The op’s over.” The tightness in her throat cut her glib chatter. If the gig ended, so would her sojourn with this man she shouldn’t care for.

  “Dream on, kid,” Snow replied. “But we did find some interesting evidence on the New Dawn agents.” He spread out his three papers on the nearest table.

  Each of the sheets of ordinary white copy paper contained pen-and-ink diagrams labeled in English block capitals. Under each word were characters in another alphabet.

  “The house,” Nick said, bending over the table. “The bastards had plans of the house. Where’d these come from?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me, Mr. M.” Snow peered at Nick expectantly. “Were they stolen from the house?”

  “I’ve never seen them before. These drawings are crude, not to scale. Someone who’s been inside drew them.”

  “Possibly from memory.” With a forefinger, Snow tapped the page showing the second floor. “Our translator tells me these Yamari words are translations of the English ones. Master bedroom, Bath, D’s room.”

  “D for Danielle. They know where I sleep.” She peered at the drawing. “Everyone was supposed to think I’m, um, sleeping with Nick. How did they plan to get to me?”

  Snow shrugged. “Maybe wait in your room until morning and snatch you then. We’ll try to find out.”

  “How well were the burglars prepared?” Nick asked.

  “They had it all. Primo tools. Detectors for picking locks and other electronics for freezing security. Berettas with silencers and a syringe full of something yet to be analyzed.” Snow refolded the papers and pocketed them. “If we hadn’t nabbed them, who knows how far they might’ve gotten.”

  A syringe. They’d planned to drug her. Until now, she’d felt safe in the house.

  Nick edged a step closer to her as if to defend her from the would-be kidnappers. Unnecessary, but his instinctive move eased her nerves from jumping-bean force.

  “The house plans have to be recent,” Nick ruminated. “Only a few people besides DARK officers have had access during the last few weeks.”

  Vanessa nodded. “On Monday, the import staff crawled all over the house like ants. Janine and Lise are here three times a week, but they wouldn’t…”

  “And Ray,” Nick said. “Don’t forget Ray. When I entered the kitchen the other morning, he slipped some papers in his pocket. Could’ve been these sketches.”

  Chapter 13

  AFTER SNOW LEFT, Vanessa and Nick trudged upstairs.

  “If you dig up any more on Somalia, I want to know.” His even tone belied the intense emotion she knew lurked below the surface.

  “Okay. You thinking about what I said?”

  “Yeah.” He uttered the word with the finality of a slammed door.

  Time to move along. Too much probing at any one time scraped old wounds raw and bleeding. Like he’d said.

  “We may have a lead in a few days on who provided the map.” Yawning, she stopped at the bathroom door. “DARK will check bank accounts, tap phones and increase surveillance. Whoever it is may slip up, or New Dawn may contact them.”

  Stiffness from her fall was creeping into her joints. She needed sleep. And ibuprofen. She rolled her sore shoulder.

  “Al-Din will know soon — if he doesn’t already — that his burglar-kidnappers failed, that they’re in custody. He’ll know my protection isn’t just paid bodyguards. What he might do next is anyone’s guess.” He leaned against the doorjamb.

  His apparent calm didn’t deceive her. She recognized the wary stillness and cold, predatory gaze. Special Forces mode.

  Protecting her meant he was breaking his own rule about avoiding combat situations. DARK wouldn’t allow him in the loop. She had to convince him to back off. For his own good.

  And she had to back off from him. For her own good. “You have a point, but the CO planned for this. Word’s already out that Chevy Chase’s finest have arrested two men for breaking and entering at this address. When they’re suspected of being illegal aliens, they’ll disappear into federal custody and off the radar screen.”

  She yawned again, covering her mouth with one hand. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need a shower and some sleep.”

  “I’ll be on guard here while you shower.” He didn’t move from his position.

  “On guard? That’s not necessary now. The excitement’s over for tonight.”

  “Take your shower.”

  “But Nick—”

  “I saw your face when Snow listed their little bag of tricks. You were scared, professional or not. You had every right to be. I’ll be here.”

  She slumped. He was right. She was still scared. And too tired to fight about it. “Thanks. I won’t be long.”

  Hot needles of water drilling into her back leached the stiffness from her muscles, but couldn’t wash away what her brain conjured up. One minute, in the swirl of water, she saw two dark forms looming over her bed. She shivered with fear.

  The next, she pictured Nick, divested of his shirt and shorts, joining her in the shower. Shampooing her hair revived the sensation of his fingers spearing through it and cradling her head. Lathering up made her nipples tingle at the reminder of his mouth on her. Her heartbeat sped and pulses throbbed.

  At this rate, if she slept at all, she’d have X-rated dreams instead of nightmares.

  She rinsed and dried off quickly. She wrapped one of the guest terry-cloth robes around her and sleeked her damp hair back from her face. When she left the bathroom, sure enough, Nick was standing guard.

  The tang of male sweat triggered the image of moisture gleaming on his burnished-olive muscles as he beat the punching bag into submission.

  “Don’t you need a shower, too, Rocky?”

  “I’ll clean up as soon as you’re settled. Get whatever you need for the night. You’re sleeping in my bed.”

  At first she didn’t think she’d heard him right. But he waited, patient and still. Inflexible. Resolute.

  The
nerve of the man! Heat boiled up her neck into her cheeks. “Now listen, Mister Caveman. Just because we shared a hot kiss—”

  “Honey, I’d call what we shared more than a kiss.” The corner of his lips twitched, and the look in his eyes went from confident to cocky.

  “—doesn’t mean I’ll hop in your bed at your command.” She yanked the robe collar more tightly about her neck and turned toward her room. She didn’t have a whole lot of experience, but she was no doormat.

  “I know that.”

  “What?”

  “I wasn’t inviting you to share my bed. Although I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you naked with me on those decadent silk sheets.” His languid gaze cruised her body as if penetrating the thick robe.

  Sparks danced along her nerves. The back of her throat dried. She couldn’t swallow. “What, then?”

  The hot look dialed to cool and assessing. “You’ll be safer in the master suite. You can have the bed. The security monitor will be right beside you. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  And how long would that arrangement last? He already had her off balance. It’s not you he wants, Vanessa. It’s the illusion, the role. The man turned her on without even trying. Her efforts about clearing up Somalia slipped her further into his life. But she would draw the line at sex. If she were to survive undercover, she had to.

  Facing facts strengthened her resolve, but didn’t douse the flame he’d ignited.

  “I’ll be all right in this room,” she said. “The fence is fixed and the bad guys are gone.”

  “And you’ll sleep like a baby? You won’t lie awake listening to every creak and groan in this old house? Hearing footsteps? Or tools on the locks?”

  “Well…”

  “You don’t know they were alone. You don’t know that was the only map. DARK protection isn’t with you 24/7. I am. Or I will be from now on.”

  Every feminine instinct she possessed to the contrary, a few minutes later she found herself ensconced in the king-sized bed in her faded old nightgown. Maybe the long sleeves and high neck would quell his libido. And hers. Maybe she could fall asleep before he got out of the shower.

  The water was running. She pictured it coursing over his shoulders, over slabs and ridges of muscle and through dark hairs curling around his flat nipples. Down his belly to—

  Flopping over on her stomach, she pulled the pillow over her head. She shut her eyes.

  The shower stopped. Thuds as he stepped from the tiled stall. Now he was drying off. Stretching the big, fluffy towel behind him, working it back and forth to dry his shoulders, his back, his taut butt. A pulse throbbed between her legs, and heat spread through her body. She squeezed her thighs together. Don’t think about him.

  But if she didn’t think about him, her thoughts meandered to her precarious position as target. Nick was right. Alone in that other room, she wouldn’t have been able to relax.

  Not that she was relaxed now.

  And she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Everything about this Greek tycoon was contrary to what she expected. Yes, he had his arrogant moments. He liked to be in charge, but she felt protected and cared for, not patronized. He perceived her fear and insisted on watching over her, yet he respected her abilities.

  She lifted up on her elbows so suddenly she knocked the pillow on the floor. She’d done what she’d sworn not to do.

  She’d fallen in love with him.

  No denying it. She was in love with a rich man who preferred society women or models like Diana. In love with a man who didn’t believe in love. In love with a man her job forced her to spy on and distrust. Impossible.

  She retrieved the pillow and sank down with it over her head. Her heart pounded like native drums. The steel belt again banded her chest, and she hitched up the pillow for more air. But she didn’t dare come out from under.

  Even in the dark, he’d see her heart in her eyes.

  From beneath the pillow, she heard the bathroom door open. Bare feet padded to the sitting area. He dragged the cushions from the settee onto the floor. The bed gave as he snatched a pillow.

  A blanket flapped. A body settled. Sighed deeply. Only a few feet away. Then silence except for Nick’s even breathing.

  And her pounding heart.

  ***

  Nick took Vanessa’s arm as they left the Canal Bistro. They paused on the deck while they waited for their companions.

  Vanessa cast a three-sixty-degree perusal of the area, ostensibly admiring the dramatic view. That and the Mediterranean cuisine made the restaurant Georgetown’s newest rage.

  “All clear. Snow, we’re ready,” she whispered into her lapel pin, then turned toward the river.

  Nick leaned an elbow on the railing as he scanned the few diners occupying the deck with them. Not that he distrusted her judgment, but an extra pair of eyes couldn’t hurt. Upscale shoppers with Georgetown Park shopping bags and upcoming professionals with laptop cases, all with fingers flying on phone screens.

  No one suspicious. No one paying them any attention.

  “Look, Nick.” She pointed to the right across the C & O Canal. “The Key Bridge to Virginia. I love that old bridge, but the Potomac looks better on a sunny day.”

  He relaxed and slung an arm around her shoulders. “I have the view I prefer right here.”

  She grinned and poked him in the ribs.

  He was close enough to enjoy how good she smelled — a subtle fresh scent. Close enough to enjoy her curves pressed against him. And close enough to admire the dusting of freckles across her nose. In three-inch heels, she still seemed small beside him, delicate. She was anything but. Bad guys with God-knows-what drugs had frightened her, but she’d have toughed out the night if he hadn’t insisted on moving her into his bed.

  He could’ve had her last night. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. His damn sense of honor stopped him from taking advantage of her anxious state. Another night of togetherness would pump the torture level to the red zone.

  Her night was as wakeful as his. He just didn’t wrestle the sheets as much — a by-product of SF training. The only sign of fatigue was the droop to her eyelids. Sexy, dammit. Except for the plunging neckline of the silk blouse beneath and the knee-length slim skirt, the long navy jacket concealed most of the softness he’d held against him last night.

  Discretion meant not waving a red flag at Prince Amir. Or at himself, for that matter. He’d take the trade-off.

  Vanessa angled her head. “What is it?”

  “What could be wrong besides the cloudy weather? I’ve just stuffed myself with lamb Niçoise and Caesar salad. I have my arm around a beautiful woman. The usual New Dawn tails took the day off. Happy Halloween.”

  Doubt crinkled her forehead. “I wonder if New Dawn is holding back because DARK nabbed their burglars last night.”

  “They seem to change tactics every other day. At the moment I don’t care. I welcome the breathing space.”

  “And the end of this business lunch?”

  “Like clear skies after a flood.” Sometimes she read his mind. Unaccountably pleased, he tightened his arm around her.

  The anticipation of this blasted meeting had ground his gears since the museum reception. He had to admit the meal rolled along smoothly. Abdul Nadim had played jovial host, oiling the conversational pistons with questions and good cheer.

  Ambassador Khalil, waiting to see the route of trade negotiations, kept his comments neutral. “Yamar will benefit from trade with U.S. partners,” was his only input.

  Prince Amir signaled interest in Nadim’s ideas for sales in modern crafts as well as antiquities. While remaining as neutral as the ambassador, Nick offered ideas from his experience in the international restaurant supply business.

  Business was business, Nadim had said more than once. The man was a damned persistent huckster. Nick’s insistence that Markos Imports was for sale had yet to deter him.

  Nadim and the othe
rs strolled out to join them.

  “Do not worry, my friend,” the entrepreneur said, patting his ample belly. “Our discussions are like that bountiful meal. Each delicious course will reveal itself in good time and be digested and resolved.”

  “I have no cause to worry, Abdul,” Nick replied. “Thank you for the lunch and the stimulating conversation.”

  Prince Amir lounged against the railing nearby. Dark designer sunglasses allowed him to ogle Vanessa freely. Forgivable under the circumstances. The deposed prince, although attentive to Danielle, remained courteous and respectful.

  Nick’s uncompromising manner on the phone had apparently stifled further trespass.

  With one small exception.

  Vanessa cradled her gift in her hands. About the size of a thick paperback novel, the olive-wood box was inlaid with a floral design in antique ivory and lapis lazuli. Though it was a personal gift, Nick couldn’t fault the prince for such a stunning example of his country’s craftsmanship.

  “Thank you for the lovely present, Your Highness,” Vanessa said, smiling. “I’ll keep my best treasures in it.”

  “You are most welcome, my dear,” Amir crooned in his unctuous manner. “But the most beautiful jewel is the one holding it.”

  The banded shirt neck steamed Nick’s skin. He’d thought the same sentiment about the diamond pendant, but hadn’t had the wit to express it.

  Amir made a small bow. “This jewelry box is two hundred and fifty years old, but artisans in Yamar make equally beautiful ones today.”

  “I foresee a perfect arrangement.” Nadim gazed into an invisible crystal ball in his cupped hands. “The modern crafts in one of my businesses. The antique boxes in Markos Imports.”

  “It’s a conspiracy,” Nick said with a laugh. “Old friend, you never quit.”

  Vanessa shook hands with Nadim and the others, but sent a teasing look to Nick. “Business is business.”

  Even the dour ambassador laughed at her adoption of Nadim’s favorite saying.

  When Grant Snow pulled up in the Mercedes, Nick managed to make their farewells.