The D.C. Incident (3 page)

“So, the big bad Alpha dog came bounding in? To avenge the insult to his mate?”

Rafe pinched her cheek and chuckled at her shriek.

“Yeah, that’s why I came.”

Stroking her cheek, he laughed. “And… to fuck the hell out of you.”

Nicki snorted then snuggled up against him.

“Well, you can check off that box, big guy.”

Rafe rolled her onto her back then took her hand and wrapped it around his burgeoning staff.

“If I’m not mistaken, there’s a few more boxes that need to be checked. What do you say, Darling? Times a’wasting. We only have five hours until morning.”

Her laugh ended in a muffled squeal as he settled in on top of her, silencing her protest the best and most effective way he could.

Chapter 3

Rafe came to Washington as little as possible. The reek of cash for access offended him—as did the supercilious, sycophantic exchanges among arrogant men who actually despised one another. Since most of his clients came from either D.C. or New York, he often had to hold his nose and venture to the home base of America’s ‘ruling’ class. But in order to hire him, Rafe insisted prospective clients meet him on his turf. To retain his services, he forced them to traipse to his elaborate retreat center in the Pocono Mountains. When he needed to travel, Rafe shanghaied one of his seven private jets, two of which were luxuriously outfitted for his frequent international forays.

In his years as an upstart Delta Force operative Rafe earned the label “hard to handle” from his superiors. Which was an accomplishment, considering his associates. Rafe’s superiors weren’t far off the mark. From the time he was a kid in the violent slums in Paris, Rafe never met a rule he didn’t break or an authority figure he didn’t despise. His current company, International Security Associates, operated so far off the grid, it didn’t formally exist. He never refused a project no matter how unsavory. The only requirement was that his potential clients were able to pay his outrageous fees. His clients were power brokers from every sector. To a man they would deny with their dying breath that they needed help. But when they did, they turned to the urbane Frenchman with the charming manners and quiet rage in his eyes.

Rafe hired tough men, primarily dissatisfied former special operatives who were as dismissive of authority as Rafe was. Make that
men
and
one woman
. He took on Nicki Powers as a favor to Yuri Petrokov, his mentor and the man who’d saved his life. Rafe knew from the moment he met the stunning redhead that she was trouble. He couldn’t fault her fighting skills. She could out-shoot three quarters of the ISA associates and had black belts in four different forms of martial arts. And damn, she was Dark Phoenix with a knife. What he didn’t know when he met the audacious vixen was that he would fall in love with her and spend the next year trying to convince her to marry him. Something pre-Nicki—he’d sworn he’d never do.

~~~

Rafe strode into Percy’s, the high-end Georgetown restaurant, where the political elite did much of their official business. After a short conversation with the maître d’, he headed toward the table where Senator Michaels and his aide, Philip Reeves, were schmoozing one of the Senator’s major contributors.

Walking up to the table next to Michaels’, Rafe nodded to the couple who were eating their breakfast and pointed to the empty chair at their table.

“Excuse me. Will you be needing this chair?”

When they indicated that they would not, Rafe picked it up and placed it next to a startled Senator Michaels.

Phil Reeves frowned and rose to his feet.

“What the fuck?”

Ignoring the pudgy bespeckled aide, Rafe sat down in the chair and focused on the Senator.

Senator Michaels glared at him then quickly recovered, pasting the political equivalent of a smile on his face. “Do I know you?”

Rafe shrugged. “You do now.”

An attentive waiter appeared instantly at his elbow.

“Coffee, Mr. Boudin?”

“Yes, thank you, Thomas.”

“The usual, Sir?”

Rafe responded, “Yes, but don’t skimp on the—”

The small man’s lined face crinkled in a smile.

“I know, Sir. Don’t skimp on the milk—and no cream. May I bring you a Brioche? Manuel just baked a fresh batch. “

Rafe smiled at the diminutive man that he’d known for years and shook his head.

“Not this morning, Thomas.”

He saw Reeves and the Senator exchange a glance. Both men looked decidedly uneasy. Rafe turned to the third man at the table who was making a point of staring at a non-existent speck on the linen tablecloth.

“Good morning, Francis. How is the liquor business? And the garment industry? I understand that you and Tony plan to open a sweat shop in the Marianas.” Glancing at the Senator, he added, “Are you likely to get that tax waiver that you need to do business offshore?”

The longtime lobbyist who was rumored to have ties to organized crime met his gaze for a quick moment then flushed and mumbled an unintelligible response.

At that point, Reeves drew himself up like the good aide that he was and spoke in a low tone glancing nervously around the room.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Boudin. Your reputation precedes you. Senator Michaels is a stalwart supporter of the military. We both thank you for your service. How can we help you?”

Rafe glanced at the pale man whose top lip was beaded with sweat, then looked away, making it clear that having sized him up he was of no interest. Turning to Senator Michaels, Rafe noted that unlike his aide’s greasy pallor, the Senator’s ruddy face had darkened and his patently false smile was shaky.

Certain that his unusual entrance had not gone unnoticed, Rafe didn’t bother to keep their conversation private. He spoke in a quiet tone that nevertheless was audible to the interested diners at nearby tables.

“No, Senator Michaels, we haven’t met. However you have met two of my associates.”

Bright red splotches flamed on the Senator’s cheeks. His aide’s shocked gasp was audible.

Rafe continued. “You met Caleb MacAfee, one of my partners, who like myself, is a former Delta Force operative.” Letting the implied threat speak for itself, he was gratified to see that the nervous tic flickering next to the senator’s left eye was now a steady spasm.

“And of course you met Nicki Powers, the young woman who accompanied Mr. MacAfee.”

Rafe smiled at the Senator whose plastic smile had frozen in an odd grimace.

“I trust you remember Ms. Powers. In a word, she is unforgettable. But given the number of appointments and petitioners you see on a daily basis, let me refresh your memory. Ms. Powers is the stunning red-haired woman that you and your cohorts propositioned in your Senate office. After making a lewd comment, that given the sensibilities of the guests overhearing our conversation, I will not repeat, you offered to pay an extraordinary sum of money to her in return for sexual favors. Again for the purpose of keeping the other diners up to date, Ms. Powers emphatically refused your offer.”

Letting his words sink in, Rafe glanced around the dining room, noting that everyone at the surrounding tables were no longer pretending to ignore them. Rather they were staring in open amazement at the remarkable conversation taking place. Rafe grinned inwardly, wondering how long it would take for their confrontation to be texted throughout Washington. He chuckled knowing it would be seconds, not minutes.

“Unfortunately for you, Senator Michaels, in addition to being a lovely woman and an accomplished martial artist as well as a talented weapons expert, Ms. Powers is also my fiancé. We all know that disreputable men in powerful positions often try to take advantage of young women. It is an egregious misuse of their power and, in your case, of the public trust. Few, however, are stupid enough to proposition a trained agent, particularly a member of International Security Associates.”

Rafe paused to allow his words to sink in.

“Fortunately for you, Senator, Ms. Powers and I, along with several of my associates, will be at the AFL-CIO event this evening. At that time you will have the opportunity to apologize to Ms. Powers for your repulsive conduct.”

Rafe wiped at the corner of his mouth with the linen napkin, then folded it and put in on the table. He rose to his feet and fastened a hard glare on the Senator.

“I recommend that you take advantage of the opportunity.”

He held the Senator’s stunned gaze.

“As for you and me, Senator, we will settle up later.”

The Senator swallowed visibly then acknowledging the deathly quiet in the usually bustling restaurant, he glared at Rafe, and snapped, “Are you threatening me, Boudin?”

Rafe grinned.

“A threat? Most assuredly. And that’s
Colonel
Boudin to you.”

Rafe threw down a $20 bill and nodded to the mafioso who looked as shaken as the Senator and his aide.

“Say hello to Tony for me, Francis. You might remind him, that the Nevada gaming commission is looking hard at the political contributions people like you and your boss are making. The onerous fines they are leveling are beginning to make illegal political contributions a bad bet.”

Walking over to the wide-eyed waiter who was standing to the side, Rafe tucked a folded bill in the man’s breast pocket and winked at him.

“Give my best to Manuel. Tell him I hated to pass up the Brioche, but given the company at my table, I was concerned it would spoil his gastronomic masterpiece.”

Meeting the stunned gazes of the surrounding diners, Rafe flicked his fingers in an offhand salute and strode toward the exit.

“Fuck Senator, Do you have any idea who Rafe Boudin is?”

Overhearing Francis Gambioni’s harsh whisper, Rafe cocked a brow and grinned. If the poor sap didn’t know by now, he soon would.

Chapter 4

“Damn, Nicki. Rafe was in your bed just two hours ago, and now he’s got the whole fucking town in an uproar.”

Caleb tossed back his blond shoulder-length hair and handed her a large cup of coffee.

Nicki sipped on the steaming brew and gave him a bright grateful smile.

“Yeah, I know, hotstuff. I am a prince among men. Who else knows that a feral cat is more pleasant than you are the first thing in the morning? At least until you’ve had your daily ration of blacker-than-midnight coffee straight up and scalding hot. Jesus, babe, I’m concerned that noxious stuff will someday put hair on your chest. And, hotstuff, defiling the work of nature that is your bodacious chest would be a crime, one I don’t want any part of!”

Nicki groaned in mock dismay. Caleb was the only person Rafe allowed to comment on Nicki’s showgirl body. But Caleb never stopped testing his boundaries. Rafe routinely put him back in his cage with the glare that brought lesser men to their knees. It helped that Grayson, Caleb and Rafe had known each other for years. Like his pal Grayson, Caleb thought Rafe walked on water and as many times as Rafe had saved his life, he probably did. Nicki treasured the camaraderie among the three men. She also appreciated how Grayson and Caleb took care of her. They openly admired her warrior skills and in the beginning when a wary Rafe had brought her into ISA, on probation, they were her chief supporters. When it was clear to them that their avowed bachelor boss was falling for her, they engineered one escapade after another, finally getting Rafe to accept the inevitable. Nicki smiled remembering their matchmaking antics. They knew what her father had always known and tried to warn Rafe. No one—particularly a man—had ever said no to Nicki.

Nicki sat up in bed and propped herself against the padded headboard. She’d heard Rafe dressing quietly and then insisted that she stay in bed reminding her that they hadn’t gotten much sleep. She sighed. As though she needed reminding. Places in her body that she didn’t know she had were humming from overuse—some might even call it abuse. Pulling the quilt up under her chin, Nicki smiled to herself. She called it ecstasy.

Caleb heard her sigh and shook his head. “Jesus, Nicki. You two are really something. I admire you both. You put even a hound dog like me to shame. Talk about stamina!”

His expression turned uncharacteristically serious.

“But I gotta thank you, babe. You did something none of us who love Rafe

could do. You gave him a reason to live. He didn’t believe that he deserved the love of a good woman, until Ms. Nicki Powers swept into his life and proved him wrong. Because that man is my hero, I’m forever grateful that the most gorgeous woman in the world caught him in her web.” As if abashed that he’d actually been serious for a moment, Caleb shook his head and frowned. “My only job is to convince you that now that you’ve captured the mighty Rafe Boudin, you are ready to take on the real Superstar—me!”

Nicki laughed. “You’re incorrigible, Caleb. But tell me: while I was getting much needed beauty sleep, what was the most dangerous man in the world up to?”

“Yeah, right, Nicki. I’ve never seen a woman who can spend the night the way I’m certain you did and wake up looking like you stepped out of a photo shoot for Playboy!”

“Hmm. I’ll take that as a compliment, Caleb. And if I do look like that… do you suppose maybe it’s
because
of the way I spent my night?”

Caleb hooted then plunked himself in the chair next to her bed and put his long legs up on the foot of the bed. At the vibrating hum, he yanked out his cell phone.

“Look at this, Nicki.”

He pointed to a number in the corner of the screen and began rolling through a chain of text messages.

“These are the text messages I’ve received from 67 people who’ve taken the time to tell me what our fearless leader did to Senator Michaels not thirty minutes ago. Whoops. Since I handed you your coffee three minutes ago, nine more messages have come in.”

Nicki groaned.

“I’m not sure I want to know, Caleb. But lay it on me. Is the Senator able to walk?”

“Walk? Yeah, but maybe not eat for a while. Given that our white knight cut off Senator Michaels’ balls and fed them to him piece by piece.”

Acknowledging Nicki’s wince, Caleb said, “Metaphorically speaking. But given that said affront took place in front of a standing room only breakfast crowd at Percy’s, Senator Michaels might have preferred a genuine castration. At least then there would have been blood and he might have gotten some sympathy.”