Unmasking the Mercenary (10 page)

He sank his fingers into her hair, fisting the softness and pulling her head back before kissing her again. She moved her hands to his chest, her fingers flexing. Her breathing quickened. Warm shivers continued to assault her.

He told her in French how beautiful she was.

That made her open her eyes. The sweet eroticism heated her blood. She told him not to stop kissing her in the same language.

He obliged her. Softly at first, so that only their lips touched. But that wasn’t nearly enough. She urged him on for more. He eased his way inside her mouth. A seductive ploy. The intimate touch of their tongues ignited something foreign to her, something she hadn’t felt in so very long.

Gradually, she withdrew. He seemed to sense the encroaching limits of her long-buried passion and let her, opening his eyes and meeting hers, answering warmth chasing the demons of his past from his eyes. The true essence of him emerged, just a glimpse, but it was there. Like a small gift.

Slowly coherency returned. Realizing how deftly he’d settled her and that it had been deliberate, she stiffened. She couldn’t let him think he had that kind of power over her.

She bumped her hips against his, trying to push him off her. She pushed with her hands on his chest, too, but the feel of hard muscle under his shirt overwhelmed her senses. Whatever had erupted between them wasn’t finished. And he wasn’t being deliberate anymore. This part was real. He was reacting to the way he felt, and it was not unlike how she felt for him.

When he pressed his body against hers, flattening her against the door, she didn’t resist. She heard and felt his deep breath. Moving his mouth over hers, he touched her with his tongue. Tentacles of pleasure scattered everywhere in her body. She opened her mouth and let him have all of her.

Another breath rushed out of him and he groaned. It fueled her passion. She met his fevered kisses, wrapping her arms around him.

He slid his arms around her, too, his hands cupping her rear through the thin material of the dress. Lifting her, he pressed his erection against her, pinning her with his weight against the door. She hooked her legs around his hips, drawing back from his hot mouth to take a few panting breaths, amazed and thrilled that he could make her feel this way.

He swore in French.

She held his head between her hands, loving his smooth, black hair between her fingers, and planted soft kisses all over his face. She made love to his mouth with hers, not with her tongue, just her lips. Soft touches that sprinkled an indescribable sensation all the way to her core. It was so powerful it shook her back to reality.

Slowly she pulled back her face and opened her eyes. He met her look with an answering confusion and passion. Their breathing resounded in the room.

Wordlessly, he eased her feet down to the floor and stepped back. She slid her hands from around his neck, down his chest, and off him, mortification expanding inside her.

She’d never kissed any man like that before, not even before Iraq. How had Rem worked his way into her heart like this? How had he breached the walls that Iraq had erected? She didn’t understand. She felt confused and disoriented.

His smoldering eyes watched as though reading her while his passion slowly ebbed. She welcomed the time to adjust her own equilibrium. She watched a familiar hardness come over him.

She used that to her advantage, too. It made her mad. How could he turn off his emotion so easily? Did all men have that ability, or was Rem better than most? She didn’t care.

She pointed her finger in front of his face, feeling like it was becoming a regular gesture. “Don’t do that again.”

“If you want to make it out of here alive, don’t flinch when I touch you,” he shot back.

He’d kind of cured her of that, hadn’t he? And did he think she hadn’t noticed his investment in that kiss right along with her? “Don’t touch my ass again. I’ll drop you if you do. I don’t care who sees it.”

“Duly noted.” He opened the door and followed her into the hall.

A guard approached. Their hour must be up. Haley willed away the insecurity still swimming in her stomach and let Rem put his hand on her lower back as she walked with him toward the guard.

They were led to the patio, where a table was set. Music played, a tropical drumbeat mixed with horns. Locke stood facing them, giving Haley a blatant once-over before watching Rem with calculating eyes.

A servant offered Haley a glass of wine. She took it and had to stop herself from thanking the dark-skinned woman in English.
“Merci.”

Rem moved closer to Locke, stopping at a chair to pull it back and look at her. She took the silent offer and sat. Locke sat to her right and Rem to her left. Two servants went to work putting lunch before them. A light fare of colorful fruit and artfully prepared fish.

Locke was no longer wearing sunglasses, and Haley had to subdue a shiver when she looked into his chilling, dark eyes.

“I am at a disadvantage,” Locke said to Rem. “You said this meeting was important, but you neglected to specify the subject matter.”

“It was good of you to invite me,” Rem answered, and she heard the edge in his voice, the unspoken taunt.

“As I recall, you left me no recourse. Now, please, do tell me what has brought you all the way here, Rem.”

Haley saw the subtle change in Rem, the darkening of his eyes. It showed her just how fervent his desire was for revenge. Cool and calculating. Sure of the end result. She marveled a moment on it.

“This is just a casual visit between old friends,” he said, but it was clear it was anything but that.

“Friends.” Locke grunted. “I can’t recall a time that I didn’t feel like looking over my shoulder to see where you were. You were always so different than Dane.”

“We never had a chance to get to know each other well.”

“You’re a hard man to trust.”

Rem didn’t respond to that. Instead, he said, “I saw you meet with Ammar Farid Salloum.”

“Who?”

“No need to deny it. I have pictures.”

Locke only stared at him.

“It’s interesting, isn’t it, that Ammar has been meeting with Habib Maalouf?” Rem continued.

“You talk in riddles.”

“Secrets like that can be dangerous,” Rem went on, as though Locke hadn’t spoken.

“I am keeping secrets now?” He chuckled without humor.

“You’d rather it got out that you’ve been meeting with a high-ranking operative from Hezbollah who happens to have relations with a diamond merchant?”

Again Locke said nothing, only looked steadily at Rem.

“Some people would think you’re helping terrorists launder money by feeding them diamonds,” Rem said. “A lot of diamonds. So many that it would be hard for more than the Sierra Leone government to ignore. News like that would travel seas.”

Haley covered her surprise. Why was Rem revealing his knowledge of the diamonds? His boldness shocked her. Would they search their bags? Maybe not yet. But after this meeting…

“You’re making an assumption that I am not sure I appreciate.”

“I’m not assuming a damn thing.”

She watched the truth of that waver Locke’s confidence.

“What do you want?” he finally asked. “Tell me why you’re here.”

“I want you to tell me where Ammar’s father is.”

“His father.” Locke sounded incredulous. So was Haley. Why did Rem want to know about Ammar’s father?

“Tell me or I’ll make sure all the right people know what you’re doing with your diamonds.”

“You dare to threaten me?”

“What I want is simple.”

Long seconds passed. Locke’s gaze held firm with Rem’s. “I don’t know where Farid is,” he relented. “He stays hidden because of his rising notoriety with American officials.”

Haley got the feeling that revealing this didn’t put him in any danger. It wasn’t much. The only thing he gave away was the fact that he did, in fact, know Ammar’s father. A man named Farid. She glanced at Rem. What other discoveries about him and his past lay in store for her?

“That’s why I need you to help me find him,” Rem said.

Locke grunted again, more derisively this time. “Even if I knew how to find him, telling you would secure my death.”

“Give me something. Anything.”

“You’ve wasted your time coming here.”

“Not the way I see it. You may decide not to give me the information I need, but I know of a reporter who’d love to see the pictures I have of you with Ammar.” He paused. “And then there are the diamonds…”

Heavy silence ensued.

Locke blinked once. Again. “What diamonds?”

Rem smiled.

More silence hovered, until Locke shifted in his chair.

“He has a ranch in Argentina,” he finally said. “In Foz do Iguacu. Perhaps you can learn something there.”

“You’re going to have to do better than that. He left there as soon as our government started looking for him.”

“It’s all I know.”

Or all he could say,
Haley thought.

Rem leaned back in his chair and put his elbow on its arm, resting his head against his forefinger and thumb.

Locke moved his gaze from Rem to Haley and observed her for a moment. She inwardly stiffened with the blatant disregard for her as a person. He looked at her as though she were a slab of pink meat on the other side of a deli counter window. And he hadn’t eaten in three days.

“She’s not like your other women,” he said in English, and Haley wondered if it was an attempt to divert Rem’s attention.

“You’re right. You haven’t slept with her,” Rem answered, and Haley nearly lost her poker face.

Locke grinned and resumed his blatant study.

“What do you do?” he asked in French.

What was he asking?

“Her father was into oil,” Rem said in French.

Jerking her gaze to him, she was glad she didn’t have to cover her surprise that he knew so much about her. When had he discovered that? And how?

“She doesn’t have to work,” Rem added.

It was true enough. Her mother had died not long after her father had passed at the age of sixty-five. Sometimes she wondered if coming home from Iraq would have been easier if she had family to welcome her instead of a throng of strangers.

“How did you find her?” Locke asked.

“I followed her,” Rem said.

Haley wanted to smile at his sarcasm. He
had
followed her.

“We were both on a beach in the Caribbean,” he added.

Ah, finally the lie.

“And so you decided to bring her to Monrovia?”

“I have a villa there.”

“Still…not the ideal location for an affair. The beaches may look pristine, but they are nothing more than a sewage drain.”

“I have business here. You know that.”

“Yes. And your business is going to get you killed some day.”

“Tell me where Farid is.”

Locke didn’t respond, but a sly smile inched up the corners of his mouth and he dragged his gaze back to Haley. “I think you lie about this one, Rem.”

“I don’t care what you think. I don’t care what anyone thinks.”

True.

“You never did.”

“I’ll be visiting my reporter friend in a few days. There are people all over the world who’re real interested to learn what you’re up to. If you think you can hide your involvement with Farid from them, I wish you luck.” He unfolded his impressive height and stood, reaching his hand toward Haley.

She realized he’d switched to English and took his hand. Standing, she saw the dangerous gleam in his eyes. Locke knew how to find Farid but he wasn’t going to tell them.

“Be careful, Rem. You’re one man against many.”

“It’s always been that way for me.”

Haley found that intriguing. He was resigned to the fact…but also very certain.

A cell phone rang.

Haley watched Locke pull one from his shirt pocket and lift it to his ear. As he listened, his eyes moved from her to Rem but revealed nothing of what the call was about.

“Did he tell you anything?” he asked into the phone. Then after a pause, “All right, I’ll be waiting for you.” With that he closed the phone and tucked it back into his pocket.

Resting his hand on the table, he looked up at Rem with a sort of resigned coldness. “Your timing is impeccable. I’ll give you that.”

Rem’s smile said his timing had been deliberate.

“Habib was run off the road today,” Locke said. “Apparently he was on his way to deliver some diamonds to a client when a white SUV drove alongside him. He was knocked unconscious in the crash, but the man in the SUV stole the diamonds.”

“Who was the client?” Rem asked, satisfaction radiating off him. “And why was he calling you?”

Locke’s expression hadn’t changed. “He wanted to know if I’ve seen you.”

“You didn’t tell him.”

“Was it you?”

Rem said nothing.

Locke grunted a short laugh. “I wasn’t surprised you knew about the diamonds, but I never would have guessed you’d be stupid enough to take them. You’re as good as dead. You know that, don’t you?” He laughed longer this time. “I don’t have to do a thing.”

“What’s Ammar planning to do with the money he gets from selling the diamonds?” Rem asked.

“How should I know?”

“I think you do.”

“You think wrong, my friend.”

“How much are they paying you to help them?”

“I sold diamonds to a merchant. It’s only business.”

“A merchant who’s working for Ammar.”

Anger brewed in Locke’s eyes. “You’ve got balls coming here.”

Haley agreed. How had he known Locke wouldn’t kill them the minute he discovered who’d taken the diamonds? He couldn’t have. It was a risk, but one he wasn’t afraid to take. Even with Haley along.

“Where are the diamonds?” Locke asked.

Rem didn’t tell him and Locke looked past them at the two guards standing near the patio door. “Escort these two to their room and make sure they don’t come out.”

Haley leaned closer to Rem, not liking her fear but unable to control it. He slid his arm around her waist as the guards herded them toward the hall.

“Sleep well,” Locke called to their backs, and Haley looked behind her. Between the two guards she saw him smiling wickedly.