Sweet Seduction Secrets (Sweet Seduction, Book 8): A Love At First Sight Romantic Suspense Series (22 page)

He was thinking of their families. The hangers-on who’d been here this morning cheering on the new girl, welcoming her into the fold. He was thinking beyond the walls of this building, farther out than those lives that walked its halls. He was thinking like a true leader, a man who didn’t overlook the little people, but placed them on a pedestal instead.

ASI was a family, but that moniker extended beyond them.

“Do you have safe houses?” I asked. “Someone other than your employees you trust?”

Silence for a stretch.

And then, “We have two safe houses, fully wired into control, capable of being locked down to a certain degree,” Adam answered, because Nick seemed to be stuck inside his head.

“Where are they?” I demanded, wanting to get a fix on how wide the fall-out could be. I could cover ASI, at a pinch, from Mangere. But farther afield might be out.

“Where’s
your
back-up site?” Nick shot back, eyes hard.

Trust. We neither had it, nor did I think we ever would. But we were together in this.

“Mangere Storage Units on Roberston Road,” I supplied.

Nick picked his phone up and hit a number while he nodded his head at Adam. In the next instant he was conveying my fall-back shack’s location to either Amber or Eric over the line.

Adam said carefully, “Dominic, Nick’s brother, has a place in St Heliers Bay, that we’ve used before as a safe house.”

“Too far out. Only one way in or out of there, I couldn’t get to it in time.”

His eyebrows rose on that.

“We could fit everyone in ASI,” Nick said, rejoining the conversation.

I shook my head. “Too well known, an obvious target.”

“Eric and Amber will be working out of here,” Nick pointed out on a growl.

“And I’m sure they can lock themselves down appropriately if needed,” I countered. The unsaid being, Eric could handle protecting himself and Amber. Any more and it was a big ask.

“Tell her,” Nick said, leaning back in his chair, his cellphone tapping against his thigh as he thought.

“Ben and Abi’s place,” Adam said.

Of course. The cameras and barbed wire.

“I can do Ellerslie,” I agreed, picturing the easy access off the motorway to get to their suburb.

“How did you know they lived in Ellerslie?” Adam asked.

Nick stilled.

I could have lied. I could have said, from the dossier I’d received on being assigned. Which wasn’t a lie at all, but in this instance
would
have been an omission.

“I followed you there last night,” I admitted, waiting for the fireworks to go off.

“That’d be the tail you felt, Adam,” Nick said with a thin smile.

“You followed me,” Adam repeated, his tone low and scarily quiet.

“You had a GPS tracker on your bike. I wanted to remove it.”

Both men stilled.

“You there, Eric?” Nick eventually said into his phone. The call was on speaker and I hadn’t even noticed. Nick hadn’t disconnected after telling the IT team of my fall-back address. And my head was so far up my arse, that I’d missed it.

“Yeah, ours is still in situ,” Eric offered over the speakers. “Parked under the building right now.”

Nick turned icy blue eyes on me.

“Care to explain?”

I slowly shook my head, while flexing my back and shoulders. Fuck them.
I
didn’t put it there.

“Government issued. At a guess, placed there by the Department.”

“Caleb Hart?” Nick pressed.

“Could be,” I admitted.

“And you removed it?” he queried.

I nodded.

“Why?”

“Why do you think?”

“I don’t know, Charlie,” Nick announced. “I don’t trust you. Not one fucking bit.” Ditto. “But I gotta ask myself, why remove a government tracker whilst on a case working for said government? Unless you were trying to protect him.”

No. Not going there.

“It wasn’t placed there by me,” I offered, each word enunciated clearly, while I crossed my arms over my chest and raised an eyebrow in challenge.

Nick slowly smiled.

“I bet you’re all fucked in the head over your employer fucking with your life, aren’t you, Charlie?” he said with a sneer. “Losing control. Can’t tell who’s on your side. Whose side you’re on. Good. Bad. It’s fucking ugly, isn’t it? Life. This back stabbing, bitch slapping, arse kicking existence.”

“You done?” I asked steadily.

“Not fucking close,” he said, standing up and leaning over the desk. “You set us up and this Caleb fucker will be the least of your problems. The Director!” He slashed his hand through the space between us. “Nothing more than an annoying fly. You set us up, specialist, and I’ll gut you myself.”

“Easy, boss,” Adam intervened.

Nick pulled back, staring down hard at me where I sat, seemingly unaffected.

“Ice queen,” he snapped. His eyes darted to Adam. “You’re a bigger man than me.”

Adam’s jaw tensed. I could practically hear his teeth grinding together. But he didn’t strike out. He didn’t defend me. He just held his own under that intense, pissed off, frosty glare.

“We go in once everyone is in lockdown,” Nick announced. “Not a second before.”

He started towards the door, as if he intended to leave us alone in his office. He probably did. He was probably contemplating heading to the firing range to shoot up a picture of my face. That or the control room to organise the sting of the century.

“You should know,” I said, not bothering to turn around in my chair and face him. I knew he’d stopped in his tracks and was listening. Just like I knew Amber and Eric were, too, over the still connected phone. “This has something to do with Wayne Pascoe. Something to do with the drug lords you took down. It’s not about me or you or anyone inside this building. It’s about what we know. What we could tell the world.”

I took a deep breath in and stood from my chair. Turning, I let Nick see how much this was costing me.

“Back up your files,” I advised. “Send them off-site. If there’s someone in the Police you trust, make sure they have a copy before this goes down.”

Nick’s eyes skated off my face and landed on Adam’s.

They shared a look; I couldn’t decipher it. And then Nick spun on his heel and left.

And I had no idea if he’d accepted the olive branch I’d just given. Just like I had no idea whether Adam had caught me when I’d let go.

Really, I had no fucking idea at all.

I might be part of this plan to hunt the hunter. I might be working alongside ASI to bring Caleb down.

But I’d never be part of their family. Never be part of
them
.

It was with a peculiar sense of isolation and complete loneliness that I waited for what would happen next.

W
ell
, that was telling. So many secrets, so many unrevealed sides. Charlie was a depth of hidden meanings, covert details, and classified facts. But slowly we were breaking her down. Bit by bit we were peeling back the layers.

I had to ask myself, though, was what we were revealing the truth?

Or was it all part of her highly trained, government asset, deadly spy act?

Nick didn’t trust her. And neither did I.

But I wanted to touch her. Reach out and bridge the distance between us, taste a little of that illicitness, scratch at the surface of that aloofness. Crack the shell. I’m not even sure why, but there it was. It was what it was. I could no further deny the attraction I had to this woman than I could stop breathing air.

“What now?” she asked, still sitting this side of Nick’s desk, face impassive, skin barely flushed, pulse ticking away slowly at the side of her neck.

The only time I’d seen any of that change had been when we’d been intimate. Charlie lowered her guard then, and I wondered if she even knew that she did it. I wondered if that was the only time I’d ever see inside her walls.

Not a hardship to go through all that to get the answers we needed. But not exactly a healthy longterm approach either. And I had every intention of staying in Charlie’s life a little longer.

“Now we wait,” I said, crossing to the door. “You hungry?”

She didn’t reply, just stood from her seat and followed me. The silent treatment. Not necessarily a singularity known to spies. I was betting Charlie would have been good at remaining tight-lipped even if it hadn’t been trained into her.

It took a few seconds for us to navigate the corridors and enter the lunchroom. Koki and Brook were stuffing their faces at one of the tables, while Abi and Ben were grabbing food out of the fridge and ransacking all the choice bits off Carmel’s platters. All eyes fell on Charlie as soon as she appeared at my back.

If tension was a physical thing I would have had to slice my way through it.

This’ll be fun.

I crossed to the fridge and reached in over Abi’s shoulder, snagging a still covered platter from the several that hadn’t been breached yet. Carmel always made sure we were well fed. The payoff was slipping her gossip. If she didn’t get her quota, we didn’t get squat for dinner. Fair trade.

I slapped the platter down on a table not yet occupied and returned for plates and utensils, all the while Charlie leaned against a wall, arms crossed casually over her chest, eyes taking in the hostility in the room; glinting with amusement. Way to piss them off further, firecracker.

I pulled out a chair for her, once I’d grabbed a couple of bottles of ginger beer, and sat down. All of it had taken at least one minute, maybe two, and no one had said a fucking word.

Ben leaned back against the kitchen bench, tattooed arm folded across his big body, scowl in place, eyes dark. Abi kept her head down and finished preparing their meal, waiting this out in the shadows, hiding in plain sight. Koki and Brook kept eating, but their shoulders were tense. One wrong word and this room would explode.

Charlie pushed off from her lean and crossed to the chair I’d pulled out. The one which would put her back to the wall. It hadn’t been a conscious thought when I’d done it; I’d just inherently known she’d only go for that one. And despite my misgivings, the douche that I was wanted her to feel safe.

“Thanks,” she muttered, grabbing a chicken leg off the platter and adding some coleslaw. She dug in, seemingly unaffected by the closed in feeling of the room.

I ate a few bites, keeping an eye on Ben and Abi - don’t get fooled, if that woman thought her man needed back-up, she’d come out guns blazing - all the while flicking a look over Koki and Brook’s side of the room.

And I realised something. Something that made it hard to swallow, chicken caught halfway down my gullet. I coughed into my hand, took a massive swig from my bottle, and blinked back choking tears before I could put into words what I was feeling.

Like Abi with Ben, and Ben with Abi. Like Nick with Eva, and the cowgirl with him. Like Dom with Gen. Kelly with Drew. Pierce with Marie. Jason with Katie. And Eric with Amber. I’d knock down
anyone
who gave Charlie a hard time. I’d stand between her and danger, face any threat, risk bruised knuckles and broken bones… if I had to. I would shield her, take on her pain. I would keep her safe, make her world OK… if she’d only let me.

I’d already guessed I was a lost cause. I’d already accepted this attraction knew no bounds, had no conscience. But I hadn’t realised I was that involved.

And for what? More secrets?

But there was something about Charlie. Something you didn’t see at first, if at all. Something fragile and vulnerable, something tired and worn out. Something that spoke to me, that reached inside and touched a part of me I’d long thought dead.

Was working for this fucking Department of hers what had done this to her? Was the life of a spy so fucking bad?

“How did it start?” I suddenly asked. The words sounding loud in the taut silence of the lunchroom. “How did you get caught up in a government agency like the Department?”

I had no idea if she’d answer, let alone if she’d answer with the truth. The questions were out before I could stop them. Naïve. Ridiculously simple. Completely artless.

She chewed her mouthful slowly, and then put down her knife and fork, picking up her bottle of ginger beer instead. She took a swallow, eyes looking out across the room, looking at nothing and seeing everything, I was sure.

“They found me at uni,” she said, once the bottle was back down on the table.

“Languages?” I pressed.

“Bachelor of Arts,” she confirmed. “That part is true.”

Her admission made me feel uncomfortable. Or it could have just been the fact that she’d known I didn’t trust a word coming from between those lips.

“You weren’t some ninja trained adventurer on the weekends, then?” I asked to cover my disquiet.

“Couldn’t even do a cartwheel,” she quipped.

“So why you?” The room dropped a degree or two. Koki and Brook were still eating, but I knew for a fact that Abi and Ben were only pretending to.

“Wrong place, wrong time,” she murmured, effectively shutting the conversation down.

Disappointment washed through me. For a second there, she’d been honest. She’d opened up and let us all see inside. But as soon as the questions got deeper, she backed away and hid behind her armour. The armour, that despite the cracks, was still as tough as iron.

We carried on with our meal in silence, just the clink of a knife against porcelain, or the thunk of glass against Formica. No one said a word. By the time I’d finished two platefuls and Charlie had managed most of one, I knew the others had long completed their dinner. But none of them had left the room. Waiting for more from Charlie? Or just keeping the enemy in their sights?

I cleared our dishes just as Jason walked in. He took one look at the room, eyes scanning each occupant equally, including Charlie, and then smiled. It was amused and condescending all at once.

“We’re in lockdown, in case you didn’t know it,” he announced at booming full volume. Loud enough to shatter eardrums. The silence of before had done a number on us, because several shoulders hunched, as though trying to protect their ears.

But not Charlie’s. She just sat back, looking relaxed and well fed,
amused
and
condescending
eyes on Jase.

“No one leaves tonight,” he added, sparing her an arched look. “If you have loved ones you want moved to safety, now’s the time to let Eric know.” He turned to fully face Charlie. “Do you have loved ones, Commander?”

Commander? What the fuck?

Her smile changed from amused and condescending to flat out amused.

“Not a soul, Captain,” she offered as reply.

“Good to know,” he shot back. “No need to forward your body-bag if it’s got nowhere to go.”

Ouch!

“Just save the dog-tags,” she replied coolly. “If you return them to the Department there might be a reward.”

“Do they have your real name on them?” Jase pressed. “Or just 007?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, but I saw no need to get involved. Charlie could handle a little ribbing from Jason. And fuck it! We
all
wanted to know.

What
was
her name? Where did she come from? Who was she before she became this calculated machine?
Why
did she become this calculated machine at all? There was so much we hadn’t uncovered. So much
I
didn’t know. And yet I felt like we’d dug up a minefield of information already.

She was a spy. She spoke several languages. She fought like a demon. She could handle a handgun with absolute precision. She belonged to an organisation sanctioned by the New Zealand government but unknown to the New Zealand public. She was lethal and so were her colleagues.

Her life was in danger because of something she knew. Something that tied her to ASI. Something we were unwittingly involved in too.

Who was this woman? And how would this all play out?

Jason turned his attention to me; I held his steady gaze knowing a WTF moment was probably coming.

“Nick says you’re not to let her out of your sight.”

Yeah, WTF.

“OK,” I replied casually.

“Not even to piss.”

Oh, OK. I nodded, arms crossed over chest.

“She’s your responsibility,” Jason, the fucktard, pushed. “She slips the net and contacts her friends, then Nick will have your balls for breakfast.”

“Jesus, Cain,” I exclaimed, running a hand through my hair to stop me reaching for my nads protectively. “That’s a bit rough.” She
was
an international spy, after all. How the hell was I meant to contain her?

“He said,” Jason declared, enjoying this way too fucking much, “that you’d know what to do. You know,” he added, “to keep her busy. That mean anything to you?”

Ben snorted in the background, getting added to my mental fucktard list. Abi snickered, but as I liked Abs, I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. The snicker
could
have been at Ben’s snort. And Koki and Brook started thrumming with a multitude of unsaid, probably debauched, questions begging to be let loose.

I gave each of them a good glare.

“We’ll be in the gym,” I announced, standing from the table and sparing a quick glance at Charlie, to make sure she was on the same page.

Her beaming smile back almost made me trip. My feet suddenly too big for my body. Fucking clown sized clodhoppers thumping down on the linoleum floor. I felt my cheeks heat up. I felt the back of my neck get itchy as fuck. My mouth went dry and I made a strangled sound of distress. All real manly. All fucking involuntary. All making it worse the longer my embarrassment went on.

Then Charlie tripped, over a chair that I swear had been well out of her path. She banged into the table with her hip, making a bottle of ginger beer topple sideways as her hand slammed down on the surface for - I was guessing, unneeded - balance. And in slow motion the bottle began to slide off the table, heading towards the floor. Drops of yellow-gold liquid sloshing out of the neck, a pale hand stretching out with lightning quick reflexes and catching it before it became a shattered mess.

Silence hung in the air and then Abi started slowly clapping.

Brook whistled.

Koki grunted.

Ben just scowled.

And Jason? He shook his head, muttering something about, “Made for each other.”

I stared at Charlie, who had a delightful blush to her cheeks. All act. All lies. But a falsehood designed to protect me.

Who was this woman?

“Round two?” she asked, heading out the door and turning towards the gym. I didn’t look at anyone else as I forced myself to follow at a sedate pace. Feeling a little too much like a lovesick puppy again. Tail wagging, tongue lolling, eager eyes looking up adoringly at the saviour of my world.

Fuck! Get a fucking grip, man!

“You sure you’re up to it?” I asked. “I know all your moves now.”

She looked over her shoulder, eyebrows raised.

“How’s that possible, Stalker? We barely know each other.” Not true. I know how she looks when she comes. I know how she moves when she’s lost to passion. I know how she tastes, how soft her skin is, how strong her grip in my hair can be.

I also know how she threw that last fight.

“I’ve been replaying that last bout over in my head,” I advised. “I think I know your tell.”

“I don’t have a tell.”

“Is that what they told you?” They, being the Department, of course.

“That’s what they trained out of us.”

“How can you train a tell out of someone?” I asked.

“Negative reinforcement.”

“Isn’t it meant to be positive reinforcement?” I queried.

“Nah-uh,” she said, pushing open the door to the gym. “That would take too long. You want someone to lose old habits fast, you punish them when they transgress.”

“What sort of punishment?” I had a bad feeling about this.

She stopped in the middle of the dojo mat. Staring off into space, maybe remembering what types of punishments she’d received in the past. Reliving them.

“You really want to know?” she asked in a soft voice. It wasn’t cowed or weak, it was lethally quiet. As though the next strike would come from her tone alone. Forget the fists.

“Yeah, I do,” I said back equally as softly. But mine wasn’t a weapon, it was a promise.