Hot Rebel (7 page)

Well, she wouldn’t talk. She wasn’t gullible, and they didn’t own her. She’d broken no laws—and she wasn’t breaking any trust, either.

When they finally stopped in front of a building, Victoria sucked in a breath and smoothed her skirt self-consciously. God, why had she worn this silly dress?
 

The men poured from the van one by one, and then Nick held out a hand for her and helped her step down. She stood straight and tall—or as tall as someone five foot four could stand—and let her gaze slide over the men.

They were an impressive sight, these nine big bad warriors bristling with high-tech military gear and a whole lot of muscle. They turned and walked ahead of her toward a bunker surrounded by razor wire. Nick held out a hand, indicating she should follow.

She started to walk and he fell in beside her. He made her jumpy, and she wished he’d go away so she could stop feeling like her skin was on fire.

But the thought of him leaving her side made her frantic in an odd way. She kept her head down and walked the narrow path toward the building. Nick didn’t speak. She filed into the building behind the last man and in front of Nick. No one held a weapon on her, but she felt like she was being marched in as a prisoner anyway.

Finally the men went into a room off to her left. Nick stopped her from following and pointed down the hall. She kept going, stopping when he indicated. He knocked on a door, and a gruff “Enter” was the reply.

Nick grabbed the handle and swung the door inward.
 

“After you.”

Victoria went into a makeshift office. A man in civvies sat at a desk. He stood when she entered, his dark eyes raking over her. He was tall and handsome, but older than the men who’d brought her here. His salt-and-pepper hair was a bit more salt than pepper, and it made him look older than he probably was. Late forties, she guessed, and clearly in charge.

“Miss Royal, we’re pleased you could join us.”

“I didn’t think I had a choice.”

One corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. “No, not really. Though I think this is preferable to the alternative, isn’t it?”

The alternative being her lying in the sand with a bullet in her head? Yeah, no doubt.

“I guess I should say thanks for the rescue.”

He nodded as he walked around to lean on the desk. Oh, so casual, when she was certain he was anything but.

He stuck out a hand. “John Mendez.”

She lifted her hand and put it in his. It was warm and firm, but it didn’t make her skin sizzle.
 

“The colonel, I take it?”

“That’s right.” He looked over at Nick and something passed between them. What, she didn’t know. “Have a seat, Miss Royal. Brandy, you too.”

Brandy.
It made sense, of course, but it was rather dull compared to Preacher Boy.

Nick folded himself into a chair while she sank down in as ladylike a manner as she could muster.
 

“Zaran bin Yusuf isn’t very appreciative of your help, Miss Royal.”

“I didn’t help him. I simply did the job I was sent to do.”

“And yet he’s your brother-in-law.”

Victoria didn’t react fast enough to hide the shock she knew had to be on her face. “That’s not true,” she said when she’d recovered sufficiently.

But her heart thumped and her brain hurt as it whirled with thoughts.
Had
Emily married him? She’d never said she had, but anything was possible with her sister. Emily had seemed hell-bent on self-destruction these past few years, and Victoria had never quite known why. The last time they’d spoken, Emily had said something cryptic. Something that chilled Victoria’s blood and made her more determined than ever to get her sister out of Qu’rim. She’d said, “I miss Mom.”

Emily hadn’t known their mother. Both their parents had died when Emily was a year old in the kind of accident that shouldn’t have happened. They’d been boating with friends when the boat got caught in rapids. They weren’t especially big or terrible rapids, but the river was swollen from rain and the undercurrents were stronger than usual. When the boat capsized, only one person made it to shore alive. The rest were dragged under and drowned.

Gramps had been the only relative they had after that.

“And why not? Your sister gave up everything she’s ever known, all the comforts of home, to come to Qu’rim with this man.”

Victoria wanted to snort. Comforts? What comforts? Twenty-four-hour television, liquor stores, shopping malls, cell phones? Those things didn’t make a person happy. If they did, then Emily would have been ecstatic.

She hadn’t been. Far from it.
 

“He’s a very dynamic sort of man,” she said carefully. “He convinces people to do what he wants. She came with him, but that doesn’t make her happy here.”

Colonel Mendez tilted his head, studying her. “What makes you think she hasn’t married him by now? It’s been, what, a little over three years since she ran away? Six months since you’ve spoken with her?”

Victoria felt his words like a blow. How the fuck did he know these things? She glanced at Nick, but his eyes were blank. His expression, however, was stony.

“You seem to know quite a lot. Do you know for a fact they’re married?”

“Does it matter? She’s here with him—and you’re here protecting him. These things are pretty damning, Miss Royal.”

“I’m not protecting him,” she said through clenched teeth. “I’d have preferred to shoot him, truth be known. But that’s not what the client wanted.”

And not how she would get Emily back either. She had to play it cool and safe, and shooting bin Yusuf before she had Emily was neither of those things.

“And who was the client?”

“I don’t know.”

“Ian Black knows.”

“Then you should ask him.”

“I’d like to.” Mendez reached for a folder and spun it toward him on the desk. “The intel on Ian Black is surprisingly bare,” he said, making a show of perusing the information in front of him. “Thirties, six-three, dark hair, green eyes—or brown, the report isn’t certain—former CIA. Disavowed, apparently. A rebel, Miss Royal.”

His gaze met hers again, and she couldn’t stop herself from swallowing.

“Like you,” he said evenly.

“I’m just doing a job, Colonel. For a paycheck.” She didn’t like that she sounded hoarse. Squeaky, as if she couldn’t get the words out. She swallowed and waited for his next words.

He gave her a look that said he knew there was a healthy sense of guilt writhing around on the floor of her soul. Well, dammit, when he ran out of options the way she had, maybe he’d understand.

“Then do a job for us. For a paycheck, of course.”

Victoria blinked. “Ian pays me more than the Army ever did. No, thanks.”

She’d spent the past two years saving everything she had for the day when she could get Emily out of Qu’rim and back home to New Orleans. Even if she needed money, which she didn’t, working for the Army didn’t appeal. They’d thrown her out without a second thought, and all because Emily had the poor sense to fall for a man like Zaran bin Yusuf.
 

A terrorist bent on destroying the United States, you mean.

Mendez’s mouth curled in a smile. “Then do it for yourself.”

Victoria stared at him for a long moment. And then she scoffed. “Unless you plan to help me extract my sister from bin Yusuf and clear my name—
both
our names—you don’t have a damn thing I want.”

Mendez straightened, and she bent her neck back to look up at him. Her heart thumped against her chest wall at the serious expression on his face. He couldn’t possibly… no way…

“Maybe that’s exactly what I’m offering. Does that change your answer?”

*
 
*
 
*

Nick watched Victoria’s reaction. Mendez was still standing there, still looking intently at her, and her head was tilted back to gaze up at him. There was something unbearably elegant about her profile. And lonely, he thought. There was definitely something lonely about her.

He’d read the brief on her that Mendez had gotten from Intel. She’d been working for Black for two years now. Before that, she’d held down odd jobs after being booted from the Army. She’d never formed any relationships with anyone, though the report said nothing about casual hookups. On the subject of her and Ian Black, it was silent.

“I… What do you want me to do?”

That was Mendez’s cue. He slipped backward onto the desk, hands on his knees, and focused the full power of his attention on Victoria.
 

“I want to know who Ian Black is. Who he works for. Who pays him to do these jobs, and where he gets his information.”

Victoria stiffened. “I don’t know any of that. I already told you.”

“But you could find out.”

She lifted her chin defiantly. “What makes you think that? I’ve worked for him for two years and know nothing more than he lets me know.”

“Are you sleeping with him?”

Nick felt as if someone had jabbed him with a sharp knife. He didn’t like the burning sensation creeping through his gut at the thought of Victoria and Ian Black. The man was a disavowed spy, working for the highest bidder and selling his loyalty like a convenience-store clerk sold cigarettes. He was no good, and if Victoria was working for him—and sleeping with him—then she was probably no good either.

But she had something they wanted, and Mendez was willing to barter to get it.

Victoria got to her feet, the picture of offended innocence. And fury. Holy hell, she was pissed. Crimson slashed her cheekbones as she tossed her hair. Another feeling knifed into Nick at that moment. A feeling that had a lot more to do with the way her breasts thrust forward and her waist dipped neatly in. And then there was the flare of that skirt. Like something a girl back home would wear to church.

Jesus.

“You wouldn’t be asking me that if I were a man,” she said. “And frankly, it’s none of your fucking business.”

Mendez nodded, once and firmly. “If you work for me, it is my business. And yeah, I
would
ask a man. You’d be surprised how many of these guys can’t keep it in their pants.” He shook his head as if pained, and Nick nearly laughed.
 

“Half my damn team’s shacked up with someone they met on the job, so don’t bet any money on me not asking every motherfucker that comes through this door who he, or
she,
is sleeping with.”

Victoria folded her arms over her breasts. She hadn’t forgotten he was there, Nick was positive. But she wasn’t slanting a look his way at all. As if she could forget all about him if she didn’t look.

Fine with him. It just meant he could study her curves and angles to his heart’s content. Until Mendez sliced a look his way.

Nick straightened and dropped his gaze, but the colonel snorted as if he was in on a secret.

Fuck.

“What’s the job?” Victoria asked. “Not that I’m saying yes.”

“Answer the question.”

She blew out a breath. He thought she might tell the colonel to fuck off.
 

“No, I’m not sleeping with him. I’m not sleeping with anyone. I take my job seriously, and I take getting Emily out of this shit hole even more seriously.”

And that was the crux of the matter. By all accounts, her sister was her Achilles’ heel—and Mendez knew precisely how to dig in the blade.

“I want you to tell us everything you know about Black. Then I want you to go back to work for him. And take Brandy with you.”

Victoria’s mouth dropped open. Then she shook her head, her long hair brushing her back. It was almost to her waist, and Nick wanted to wrap his hands in it. Preferably while buried deep inside her. Pounding into her while she gasped and moaned and screamed his name.
 

Nick shifted in the chair as his dick began to sit up and take notice of what was going on in his brain.

“I can’t take him to Ian. That’s not how it works. Besides, I thought you wanted me to believe Ian set me up. Why would I go back to work for him when the job wasn’t finished? If bin Yusuf wants me dead, he won’t stop until I am.”

Mendez cut a look to Nick, and Victoria followed his gaze, looking at Nick for the first time since she’d sat in that chair. But it was Mendez’s stare that had him sitting up straighter. If Nick had a collar to pull, he’d have pulled it.
 

Thankfully, Mendez’s iron gaze cut back to Victoria.

“We don’t know that he had any idea what was about to happen. We also don’t know he didn’t.”

Victoria glared at Nick before whipping her gaze back to Mendez.
Busted.

“You’re talking in circles. You’ve made promises, but no specifics, and you want me to walk back into the line of fire—and to take Preacher Boy with me? You’re crazy, Colonel. And since I’ve committed no crime, I demand you let me go.”

Mendez folded his arms over his chest. Then he scratched his head casually while Victoria waited.

“I can have you driven to the gate. But you’ll be on your own then. A target for bin Yusuf, for Black, for whomever. No support, no rescue. And your sister stays with bin Yusuf.”