Verifiable Intelligence (13 page)

“Dayne’s staying with you though,” Tyra said.

“It’s a cover.”

“And all you’re looking for is a bogus hit list?”

He wondered how he could explain the situation in order to keep her from getting more suspicious than she already was. “Dayne and I seem to be on somebody’s bad side at the moment.”

“Ah, so you suspect you’re on that hit list.”

Jace nodded, not wanting to go into any details. Details involved Ryan, and the less Tyra knew about that the better. He didn’t trust her any more than he trusted Antonio Herrera. Maybe even less.

Her sex goddess persona firmly back in place, she shot him a coquettish grin from beneath lowered lashes. “Well, when you quit chasing ghosts and ditch the bitch, look me up. I wouldn’t mind catching up on old times.”

Jace said nothing, watching her walk away in silence. That she was involved in this situation was obvious. Now it was time to figure out how deep. He would definitely be looking her up, though he’d do it with Dayne to watch his back. Dayne might be a wild card, but he would trust her over Tyra any day.

Chapter Fifteen

There were still warm patches of late afternoon sunlight filtering through the vaulted glass ceiling in the pool deck area. Jace could see Ryan bobbing up and down in the clear water of the shallow end. He appeared to be diving for pool rings.

The scent of chlorine assailed him in a gust of humid air when he opened the glass doors. Craning his neck to see around a large potted banana tree, Jace finally caught a glimpse of Dayne. She was stretched out on a lounge chair. She wasn’t sitting alone.

Narrowing his gaze, he focused first on Dayne. She’d managed to find a scrap of fabric probably intended to be a two-piece bathing suit. Her smooth skin shone with the glow of perspiration. He briefly wondered when she found the time to sunbathe, because her entire body seemed to be tanned a warm honey gold. She’d draped a magazine carelessly across her up drawn knees and she was deep in conversation with a man.

Tall, athletic, and probably handsome, if Jace were any judge, the man sat casually beside her. Dressed in baggy athletic shorts, a tank top and sandals, with a white towel draped around his neck, Jace assumed he’d been on his way back from the nearby weight room.

Scowling fiercely and not knowing why, Jace stalked across the pool deck with the grace of a grizzly bear. He was approaching her from behind but he knew she could hear him. Her survival depended upon such things. And knowing she knew he was there made her conversation all the more irritating.

“So you’re leaving tonight?” she said, reaching out and placing her hand on the man’s knee. “That’s too bad. It would’ve been fun to tour the city with a native.”

“It is too bad,” the man agreed. “I may live in DC now, but Boston will always be home.”

“It’s such a beautiful place. I can see why. Just look at the view of the harbor from here. It’s amazing!”

The man leaned closer, resting his hand casually on the back of her chair. “I think I’d rather look at you than scenery.”

“Don’t flatter me. I’m sure you see better looking women all the time.”

“I disagree. And I know I’ve never run across a lady as hot as you are just walking past a hotel pool.”

She actually giggled. The sound made him grit his teeth. What game was she playing?

“You know, I could probably put my flight off until tomorrow morning.” The man offered a sly grin. “We could have breakfast in my suite before I go.”

“And why would I need breakfast?”

“To get your energy back after the night I’d give you.”

It was all Jace could do not to barge in, pick the man up, and smash his fist into the guy’s face. He knew he had no right. She wasn’t his. Dayne didn’t belong to anybody. But he couldn’t stand the thought of another man touching those sweet curves or kissing her sexy lips.

He should’ve thought about what he was doing. But his good reason was handicapped by some strange emotional preoccupation in the general vicinity of his heart. So instead of politely interrupting them, he barged in like a bull.

“Have you been waiting long, baby?” Jace accompanied his words with a quick peck to her cheek.

His question was met with dead silence. He should’ve felt bad about what he’d just done. She was still trying to process it, looking from Jace to her new friend and nibbling her lip. Instead, her brief insecurity played right to Jace’s advantage.

“Hey man, can I help you with something?” he coolly asked the stranger.

The guy’s dark eyes narrowed, taking in Jace’s relaxed ease beside Dayne. Finally, the man shook his head. “No, I was just leaving.” He hesitated for one second. “I’m really sorry, man. I had no idea she was here with anybody.”

Jace squeezed Dayne’s shoulder. “Yeah, she’s a pretty friendly girl. Aren’t you sweetie?”

She still hadn’t uttered a word. Jace suspected she was either tongue tied, or her insides were on fire.

The stranger walked off. Jace settled into the seat, stretched out his long legs and waved to Ryan. There was nothing else to do but wait and see what Dayne would do when she’d recovered her speech.

Dayne's body was on fire. Was she blushing? No, she was furious! How could the idiot waltz in and pull a stunt like that? Dayne knew she hadn’t missed the look of mingled remorse and pity in the man’s eyes when he’d walked away. That guy actually felt sorry for Jace! Like he had a girlfriend who couldn’t keep her hands to herself! As if there was some unspoken rule that kept men from sleeping with each other’s girlfriends or wives.

She briefly considered that Jace might be paying her back for ruining his chances with the car rental agent. But even if the entire incident was retaliatory, it was still embarrassing, not to mention pointless. What did he care if she hooked up with a stranger from their hotel? The guy was leaving in the morning and she’d never see him again. Those were the kind of one-night stands that made up her love life. Or at least they had before Ramsey and Jace had tied her libido into knots. In fact, since hiring Jace as a pilot she’d been trying unsuccessfully to get back to some semblance of normal. The most she could ever hope to expect was a quick no strings attached fuck every now and again. She could never have a relationship that lasted more than twelve or thirteen hours. She couldn’t afford the distraction. Now the big sexy bastard was screwing that up too!

What if he was jealous?

The thought was as ludicrous as it was disturbing. She and Jace were business associates. They hated each other on the best of days. The two of them were in the same line of work and managed to get in each other’s way on a regular basis. That didn’t mean there was any kind of romantic attachment going on, unless you counted that kiss on the beach.

What was wrong with her brain? Why couldn’t it seem to focus on important things? Why did it keep thinking about beaches in South Texas and tall handsome men with caramel skin whose kisses lit a fire in her otherwise empty existence?

“Your turn to babysit,” she told him abruptly. “Don’t expect me until late.”

Chapter Sixteen

The steamy nightclub was crowded. The air was thick with sweat and cigarette smoke. Strobe lights flashed neon colors, flinging bizarre shadows over the walls. Dayne eased through the horde of dancers with practiced precision. In the mass of silver spangles, gold jewelry and stretchy synthetic material, her muted black fatigues and combat boots made her almost invisible, a ghost sliding through the pulsing throng of humanity.

A back room opened up to her right. Pivoting gracefully, she swung around a couple dancing so closely there was no air between their gyrating bodies. She caught a brief view of their faces, open mouths pressed together. The air around them was charged with eroticism.

Purposefully turning her back to them, she forced her mind to abandon its curiosity. She had no time for such things. Besides, truth be told, she wasn’t certain she could ever completely let go like the people on the dance floor. An absolute release of control was not acceptable in her world. The price was too high.

It was just a touch quieter inside the private room. Sofas twisted into odd, contemporary shapes and covered in a rainbow of enticing fabrics littered the floor. Women gathered in groups, their hips and arms moving with the fierce beat of techno music. Several noted her entrance, beckoning her forward, inviting her to join their mindless dance. Ignoring their invitations, she stepped toward the middle of the room instead. A man stood dead center of the chaos, with long limbed barely legal girls draped all over him.

Dayne watched one of the girls place a shot glass full of iridescent green liquid between her full breasts. The rogue pushed her back and placed his mouth on the glass, plucking it from her cleavage and swallowing in one movement.

One full minute passed before he noticed her. A shade over six foot, Ramsey Vitale’s muscular legs were encased in black leather pants. Sweat beaded on his bare, chiseled chest. Arms corded with muscle grasped the girls in a deceptively light embrace. The hair curling over his forehead was jet black, and his face was hard, though handsome in its own way, with strong features and black eyes. When he finally noticed Dayne’s stare, his sensual mouth curved into a smile.

The room was unbearably warm. Perspiration built on her upper lip. Resisting the urge to rub her face with her sleeve, Dayne held Ramsey’s gaze without wavering.

“God save us all,” the man said in his rich baritone. “Dayne’s back in town.”

“Hello, Ramsey.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve come looking for a good time?”

She eyed the busty blondes rubbing themselves like cats in heat against Ramsey’s hips. “Not this kind.”

“Something else then?”

“I can hardly imagine what you would have in mind.”

“For you? I can get creative.”

“Do you have a minute?”

His smile turned distinctly wolfish. “Baby, I don’t think a minute is long enough.”

Stepping abruptly away from his blonde ornaments, Ramsey pressed himself close to Dayne. She’d forgotten how quick he could be. A glimpse over his shoulder showed the girls shooting daggers at his back before spinning around to find another party to join.

“I think you disappointed your dates.”

Ramsey shrugged. “They’re disposable.”

“What a romantic.”

“Darling, there are always plenty of them.” Ramsey leaned closer to her ear. “There’s only one of you.”

“Gee, and all this time I’ve been under the impression that men considered two better than one.”

Ramsey flung back his head and laughed. Grasping her arms, he pulled them up behind his neck and wrapped his firmly around her midsection. Walking her backwards, he stopped only when she was pressed against the wall.

The conflict between her mind and her body at his touch was staggering. Her body remembered him, his touch, the pleasure he could bring, but her mind remained aloof. It recalled other things. Things like Jace. And though Dayne loathed admitting it, her heart was awfully close to siding with her mind.

“It’s been ages since you’ve come to me, Dayne. What brought you back?”

Her heart was pounding. She hadn’t considered what kind of complications she might stir up by coming to the club. Dayne had avoided Ramsey like the plague since the fallout between her and Jace.

She’d never truly bought into Jace’s suspicions about Ramsey’s double dealing, but it was hard to completely ignore such a strong reaction coming from someone like Jace McKay. Dayne might not see eye to eye with him on much, but she’d long ago learned to respect his instincts. He never made a decision without what he called verifiable intelligence, the kind of evidence you couldn’t ignore.

Ramsey, on the other hand, had never professed to be anything other than the criminal he was. That very thing had attracted Dayne in the first place. There was something utterly masculine about Ramsey’s bad boy persona that aroused her feminine side on a primal level she found difficult to resist. Which was why she’d been avoiding him for almost a year, until now, when she needed information she knew he had.

Trying to temper her body’s instant reaction to Ramsey’s nearness, she focused on the need for information. Dealing with Ramsey was tricky. Dealing with him when she didn’t want to disclose her re-association with Jace McKay was even trickier.

“I need your help working out a few things that have been puzzling me,” she told him with forced nonchalance.

“A puzzle?”

“Romanian AK-74’s, a lot of them, in the hands of some people with a list of victims to wipe off the planet.”

“Ah.” Ramsey’s handsome face eased into a smile. “You’re talking about Yuri’s latest shipment. If you’re interested, I might be able to arrange a few cases for you.”

“Cases? How many cases are we talking here?”

Ramsey shifted, pulling Dayne away from the wall and ducking through another doorway that closed behind them. Roughly 16x16, this room was empty but for a few decorative plants in the corners and an enormous piece of furniture she might’ve loosely labeled a couch. It appeared to be a king-sized marshmallow. The loud techno music from the club was nothing more than a persistent background hum.

“Privacy,” Ramsey announced with a devilish smile.

She pushed away, putting some much needed space between them. “If Yuri’s importing cases of Romanian AK-74’s, who’s buying them, Ramsey?”

He casually settled his big body on the marshmallow couch. Crossing his long legs at the ankle, he propped his weight on his elbow and tilted his head. Though he was the picture of composure on the exterior, she knew he was quickly sifting through what he knew and was deciding just how much he could disclose.

“The buyer is an American agent gone rogue. The order was for not only AK-74’s but Dragunov SVD’s.” Ramsey paused, a feral smile tugging at his lips. “It was a lucrative deal.”

Mind spinning, Dayne tried to force her thoughts into order. SVD stood for Snayperskaya Vintovka Dragunova. The gun was a beautiful bit of Russian workmanship that could shoot with deadly accuracy at up to 900 meters but could still fire off 30 rounds per minute in a pinch. As a sniping weapon it was nothing compared to some of the modern high-powered sniper rifles available. But the versatility was perfect for mercenaries who tended to use far more force than finesse during assassinations. A case or two of Dragunovs would be a high-end black market item since they were no longer openly exported to the U.S.