“Ian, you can’t honestly believe she’s here to hurt you. What does your gut tell you?”
“My gut was wrong before.”
“No, it wasn’t. You said you knew something was wrong with her. What does your gut say now?”
“My gut isn’t in control. My cock is and my cock doesn’t give a shit. Do you understand, Sean? My cock doesn’t care that she could have slept with Nelson. She could roll out of his bed and into mine and my cock would be ready to go. I don’t care that she might have slept with half the syndicate, that she had her father killed, that she nearly got me and Li killed. I don’t care. I just want to get inside her again. If you told me this had all been a lie, that she was walking me into a trap, I would probably go into it willingly because I don’t know that I can survive losing her again.”
A smile crept over Sean’s face. “I think we call that love.”
Yep, the vomit was right there at the back of his throat. “It’s stupidity, Sean.”
“You say potato, I say true love. I know you. I know you’ve played through every horrible scenario in your head. I know you’ve gone through all the ways she could be tricking you and everything she would gain by betraying you, but have you thought through the fact that she just loves you and wants to be your wife?”
The plane jumped a little. He was out of time to get his brother away unless he wanted to toss him on the tarmac. “That’s not the likely scenario.”
“You can’t play this on percentages and chances, Ian. Did you read Eve’s work-up on her? Did you read about the way she behaved, the things she did when you weren’t around?”
He glanced into the cabin. Charlie was looking out the window while Ten seemed to be staring down her shirt. And he was sitting in Ian’s fucking seat. What did she really do when no one was watching?
Ten reached out and put a hand on her arm, pointing at something outside the window. Ian felt a low growl start to build in his chest. But then Charlie frowned at him, removed his arm, and seemed to give him a good talking to.
The raging jealousy that had been inside him since the moment she’d walked back in eased a little. Charlie wasn’t interested in Ten. As far as he could tell she hadn’t looked at another man, and Eve had said she was perfectly celibate in Florida. It had been her reputation there.
Why was he believing a pathetic piece of trash assassin over her?
“You know she sent a bunch of information to the Agency? She stopped a couple of terrorist plots in their tracks. That wasn’t Chelsea. That was Charlie. When I sat down with the Agency, they didn’t want to torture her."
“They wanted to hire her,” Sean surmised.
“I didn’t tell her that.” He didn’t want that life for her. He was allowing her to believe that he’d saved her from torture when he might be keeping her from a job she would love.
“She wouldn’t go. She is right where she wants to be and that means you have some decisions to make.” His brother slapped him on the back, a manly gesture of affection.
He might have to choose between her and Sean because she would still be wanted, still be under the syndicate’s kill order. “Sean, if I run with her…”
“Slip me a postcard every now and then. Let us know you’re okay. You should always know that we’re here if you need us. You have to choose her now. If you love her then you have to pick her over me, like I picked Grace. Let’s finish this and then you run with her. Your job is done. I’m fine. Better than fine. We’re all happy, Ian. You played a part in all of us finding what we need. Your little family is set. So you can run and know that we’ll be fine. You have a new family now.”
Charlie’s eyes came up, finding his. She gave him a smile and mouthed the words “save me” and pointed at her erstwhile suitor.
Save her. It was all he’d wanted to do back then.
Knight’s voice came over the system. “This is your pilot. We’re about to take off. If you want to keep your ball bag in the right place, you’ll sit down and buckle up.”
So he was set. He was going to meet with Eli Nelson and his brother was at his back.
And he kind of wanted to keep his ball bag where it belonged, but Ten might lose his. He strode down the aisle. He wasn’t going to fight with Ten. He didn’t need to.
He took the seat across from Ten. “Charlie?”
She didn’t need more than that. She unbuckled and immediately moved to sit beside him without a backward glance.
Sean settled in across from Charlie, a smirk on his face.
“Buckle up, baby,” Ian said.
It might be a long flight, but at least he liked the company.
Most of it.
* * * *
The sun beat down on Nelson’s head, the heat nearly unbearable, but he stayed in position, watching the massive yacht in the distance.
He was getting too old for this shit. He was starting to envy the king and his carefree world. Kamdar didn’t have to hustle, didn’t have to worry that every day might be his last.
He was a little naïve to not worry about that last bit since Nelson’s job was to make sure the king didn’t have a good many days left.
The king was lying back on a chaise as his harem lounged around him. Beautiful women in bikinis that barely covered anything at all. They were all there awaiting the king’s pleasure. Including the new blonde he’d picked up when he’d refueled yesterday.
It had been the simplest thing for Nelson to get his own pretty blonde on board. His attempts at getting close to the king himself had met with failure. The king, he’d been told, was on vacation and not meeting anyone for business.
It would be so simple if he could just murder the fucker, but until he figured out where the research documents were stored, Kash Kamdar had to be kept alive. The last thing his bosses wanted was the research being made public. He needed every copy either in his hands or destroyed.
Hopefully Olga would do her work and do it well. She simply needed to get into the king’s bed and then wait until he made a mistake.
Or if he took too long, then Olga was not only magnificent in bed, she was also a well-trained torturer. She could lick a man’s balls and then make him wish he’d never been born with them.
He just wished she would get on with it. The shit in Russia was getting to be a pain in his ass. His employers didn’t understand that the pipeline raids were a delicate balance. He had to keep both the syndicate and the insider he’d placed at Malone Oil happy. The young engineer he’d found spied for him and let him know when security was weak, and then Nelson let Denisovitch know where to strike. All his bosses wanted was more profit. They didn’t understand that the minute Malone Oil found his spy, they would likely find him and figure out that rival oil companies were using the mob to weaken their competitors.
The world was changing. Governments controlled very little now. Oh, they made a good show of it, but they no longer had real power. Nelson had seen it coming a long time ago. The Agency paid shit, and they weren’t known for their loving care of retired employees. So when The Collective had first recruited him, it had been a godsend. The Collective understood how the world worked. They also knew how to keep an employee happy. Money. Profit. That was what The Collective traded in. He’d found his place.
Until fucking Taggart had ruined everything.
He’d been valuable to The Collective when he had CIA entrée. Now he had to hustle like the rest of them and hope he satisfied the men in power.
Corporations were the new kings, and they liked their warfare waged quietly.
He just sometimes had to convince them to be patient.
His cell rang—the private one he always had to answer. He put down his binoculars just as the king started in on a pretty Asian woman. It looked like he was branching out from his usual blondes.
“Yes.” No need for “hello” or “this is.” They knew exactly who he was and they didn’t care for pleasantries.
“Why was the Agency and MI6 swarming Dallas?”
Fuck.
He hadn’t exactly explained to his contact that a round of assassinations had been part of his deal with the syndicate, but then he was awfully good at deflecting blame. “Denisovitch found his niece. I’m afraid I wasn’t able to convince him of her worth.”
Like he would try. He wanted the bitch dead, too.
“I explained to you that The Collective believes she could be an asset.”
“I brought your concerns to the syndicate, but I’m afraid they believe in revenge more.”
His contact’s frustration was clear in the tightness of his tone. “Try harder. We want the girl brought to us. She’s proven to be smart and capable and willing to get her hands dirty.”
They didn’t understand Charlotte Denisovitch the way he did. “Then why did she tip off the Agency about Al-Qaeda plots?”
There was a small chuckle over the line. “The fact that she knew about those plots at all makes us interested in her. We’re not terrorists, Mr. Nelson. We’re capitalists. There was no money to be made off anarchist plots. We stood to lose billions if the Euro dropped, so in our minds she’s quite the hero. We expect you to keep the syndicate in line.”
Yeah, because that was an easy job. “Denisovitch can be unreasonable.”
“Then maybe he shouldn’t be the head of the family anymore.”
Fuck.
He was going to have to off another mobster. He’d been lucky last time. If he got caught, it wasn’t like The Collective would send the cavalry in. They would just find another agent to take his place and move on.
“Finish the job in India. If you can kill the project and bring us all the research, there will be a rather large bonus in it for you. Then you can handle the Russian problem and we can discuss your retirement from the field. We think it might be time to move you to management.”
Those were the magic words that kept him dangling on a string. Oh, he knew he would never really be out of The Collective, but he could move out of the field. He could move into recruitment and training and stay for months on his island.
He would be able to enjoy it because Taggart would be dead. He could always claim that Denisovitch wouldn’t listen. Everyone knew the man was insane. He would let the syndicate do his dirty work and then get rid of the head and install someone more reasonable.
It could work out for everyone.
“Of course. I’ve placed a spy inside the king’s household.”
Another chuckle. “You mean you put a whore in his bed. That man has the stamina of a rutting bull. Don’t let her kill him until we have that research. Is the site rigged?”
At least he’d managed to do one thing right. “I have more than one spy. I managed to find one of his employees with a gambling problem. I think I’m almost ready to move. And yes, the research site is rigged to explode when I choose. I have to make sure I get the research out of there before I blow it if I can’t get Kamdar’s copy.”
“It might be easier to take it from the king than to get it from the site. Make sure the scientists are inside when you pull the trigger. We have our own who can continue the research or quash it, whatever we decide.”
Because The Collective ran the world and they didn’t like anyone else interfering. Technology, research, innovation had to come from The Collective and no one else. Whether they bought it or stole it, all knowledge would come from them.
“Absolutely. Perhaps the next king won’t be so disagreeable.” The Collective would likely make sure of it. Nelson already had several candidates in mind. After all, it was always in their best interests to install their own leaders.
“We shall see, Mr. Nelson. Now, listen closely. I have it on good authority that you have some visitors on the way.”
His whole body tightened with dread. “Who?”
“Well, let’s just say your old friends aren’t in Dallas anymore. Good luck to you. You know what happens if you fail.” The line went dead.
If he failed he would very likely find himself answering questions he didn’t want to answer. And his retirement might be from life and not the field.
How had that fucker found him?
Unless sweet Charlotte had been keeping tabs on him and wanted to please her dipshit husband. Otherwise, Taggart would have taken his bait and been looking for him in Russia.
He should have known assassins couldn’t take down Taggart himself. Now Tag would want revenge for more than Grace’s near death during their first real meeting.
He had to move fast. It might be time to call in a few friends and take the boat over himself. He picked up his binoculars again and prayed the king decided to go back to blondes.
The sound of the beach eased Charlie out of a deep sleep. The rolling waves had soothed her all night, forming a rhythm she’d eased into. After the long flight and then the drive from the airport, she had fallen into bed after barely getting a glimpse of the beach huts they had taken out.
Soft light filled the room, and she could see the ceiling above her and a large, slowly rotating ceiling fan. The salty smell of the ocean wafted over her and then she smelled coffee, dark and rich.
She rolled over and sighed as she realized the other half of the bed was still neat as a pin.
Ian hadn’t come to bed. Though he’d been kind and had taken care of her during the long trip, he had pulled back into himself after a few hours. He was right back where they’d been before. Undecided. She reached out and touched the place where his head should have laid.
Patience.
She just needed patience. She was here with him and not stuck in a safe house with Liam frowning at her, and that was a plus.
It had been her mantra on the long flight to Mumbai and then the shorter hop to the Goa airport in Vasco da Gama. Two cars had been waiting for them and she’d sat beside Ian as he drove the winding coastal road. She’d tried to pretend everything was all right as she’d taken in the natural beauty of the sea on one side and the rice terraces and coconut groves on the other. She spent so much of her time in cities that it was easy to forget how beautiful the world could be.
But there was a hollowness to it all because he was so far from her.
“Charlie?”