Read Just the Messenger Online

Authors: Ninette Swann

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense

Just the Messenger (7 page)

Marco rolled his eyes.

“But, without their protection, Bell is basically a dead man. CableNette knows that. So, to protect their star, they’re willing to pay a lot of money. And they have to ensure that they actually receive the information and the photo evidence, because once the government gets it, you can be sure it’s not going to share it with the press. Even if it was the press that helped get the info.”

“But don’t they have their own guys working on this?” Grace asked.

“Well, yes,” Marco said. “But Bell has been able to get a lot farther than our guys.”

Gene snorted, but Marco waved him off.

“I’ve been in charge of monitoring relations between Rinkleton and Warren Bell, and keeping the reporter safe. We struck a deal with CableNette so that we’re all working together. Right now, he’s CableNette’s star and the IIB’s major evidence gatherer.”

“Wait, so where do you play in?” Grace turned to Gene.

“CableNette doesn’t trust the IIB. We’re the insurance.”

“Does Warren know about any of this?”

“Well,” Gene said, looking up to the ceiling as he chose his words. “He is a top-notch investigative reporter. I highly doubt he’s in the dark. However, we’ve never spoken.”

“I’m working as one of his assistants right now,” Marco added. “I’m sure it’s irregular to pick up an assistant that follows you everywhere and offers to go to Colombia with you. But, he’s tightlipped, and he’s just followed along with us. I have a feeling as long as he gets the glory, he doesn’t care who helps.”

Gene laughed. “Fucking reporters. So predictable.”

“But what about me?” Grace asked.

“Well,” Gene said, “other than your little show at the café earlier, no one knows who you are. That’s imperative. Plus, you speak the language, and you’re an attractive woman. I’m setting up with CableNette right now to have you tag along as a photographer. Meaning, you, Marco and Warren Bell will travel to Colombia together. Marco will be protecting the reporter and trying to siphon information off him. You’ll be taking pictures. Of everything you see. And if anything happens down there, you’re getting out. Alone. Marco is stuck with Bell, but you’ll be a free agent, and we’ll need you back here with the information.”

“How will I get out?”

“Don’t worry about that. All you worry about is packing a bag. Nothing too much. You’ll have to travel light. You’ll leave tomorrow afternoon.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to wait for you here. And keep an eye on Rinkleton. He might be changing sides, and that’s a huge danger for us, given all he knows.”

Gene smiled a self-satisfied grin and finished his drink, holding up the empty glass. Grace took it from him and went to the kitchen to refill.

When she returned to the room, Gene had seated himself on the couch and Marco was gone. She tried to hide the disappointment she felt, but she couldn’t have done a good job as Gene lazily waved his hand at her.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Grace,” he said. “You’re going to be spending two weeks with him starting tomorrow.” He turned to her and patted the couch.

“Tonight,” Gene said, feeling a predatory smile cross his lips, “you’re all mine.”

“And what if I say no?” Grace asked as she handed him his drink.

But she sat down beside him and didn’t move away when his arm draped over her shoulder to caress her breast. Her nipple puckered at his touch, and his fingers fondled the taut tip that strained against the fabric of her tight shirt. “No bra?” he asked, marveling at the feel of her just under the flimsy fabric.

“Well, I’m at home,” she said softly.

“What about panties?” he asked, but he didn’t wait for a reply, instead twisting his torso to reach down to see for himself.

Beneath the softness of her worn sweats, nothing greeted him but molten heat, shocking his flesh at the touch. She shuddered and bit back a moan, the sound reverberating in her throat instead.

“No need to be quiet.” Lust edged his gritty voice as he bit out the words, feeling the blood rush to his groin. It filled his length, forcing him to slip down on the couch to ease the pressure there. Butterfly touches hovered at his thighs, and his balls drew up in delicious anticipation. With a deft flick of her wrist, Grace undid his pants, and he shifted to let the garment slide down past his knees.

“Have you done this before, Agent Merced?”

Apparently the false title amused her, for she laughed, the sound light and airy and tantalizingly female. “Only just about two hours ago.” She let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes.

Gene knew she was remembering the scene in the sitting room. As much as he craved Marco’s hard muscle and manly lines himself, he felt a stab of jealousy at her expression. He didn’t want her thinking of the other agent as they made love tonight.

He brought his hand to her face and tilted her chin toward him. “Look at me,” he whispered, as he drew her in for a searing kiss. Their tongues tangled in a clash of wanton desire, the kiss deepening, ending only when they were both gasping for breath. He trailed his lips down her neck to her breasts, lapping at the nipple under her shirt. The grainy texture of the fabric over her peak drove his senses wild, and he closed his teeth over it in a gentle bite that had her writhing and arching up to him for more.

He sat back, surveying her as her face fell when his touch left her. “Keep your eyes open,” he said. “See me.” The commands left no room for defiance, and she steadied her gaze on his face when she rose from the sofa and knelt before him. Her normally stormy eyes had the look of a calm ocean on a cloudy day, and Gene could see his reflection in them mixed with the glint of the light up above.

She nuzzled the inside of his thighs, breathing deeply of him and smiling in apparent approval before taking his sac in her hand and massaging it until it tightened to a solid mass just below his jutting erection. Taking her eyes from his features for a moment, she stroked him, letting her fingers linger on the tip just long enough to spread the moisture beading there to his shaft. She teased him with a light run of her tongue up the length of him before taking him in her mouth in a smooth movement that left him lightheaded. Using her tongue on the head on the upstrokes, she moved her mouth up and down him rhythmically. He eased back to a lying position, and pleasure arrowed down his spine, intensifying when her finger found the spot between his balls and asshole, pushing it in time to her suction. He had never had such a good blowjob in his life, from a woman or a man.

“Grace, you are so beautiful. So fucking sexy.”

He buried his fingers in her hair, egging her on, setting the pace, fucking her mouth with his engorged member as release beckoned ever closer. When she slipped a finger into his hole, he groaned his passion, the sensations swirling around him, threatening to take him out to sea with them. He tried to get a grip on himself, to hold back his climax, but then she looked at him. Her beautiful, charcoal eyes, darkened with her own desire, seemed to melt, their streaks of amber entrancing him. Her look told him she was his. All his. Did she lie, or would she be his and his alone? Gene wanted that. He wanted her. All of her. No matter the consequences. The deep feelings shook him to his core as the shock of his possessiveness held him suddenly in its grip. They weren’t wanted. Gene cursed his sloppiness that he would allow such emotion to creep up on him like this. Gene Hardy didn’t bother with relationships. Gene Hardy was only in it for the sex and the money.

She hummed against his ramrod cock and pushed him over the edge. Spurts of cum shot into her throat over and over again until he was completely spent. He relaxed back into the couch, waiting for the fuzzy feeling of orgasm to flee, leaving that familiar sense of vague disgust and need to escape. But it didn’t come. Instead, as he looked at her where she knelt before him, her head nestled on his leg, licking her lips as contentedly as a cat, nothing came to him but satisfaction. He petted the tendrils of her unruly hair and breathed in the scent of cinnamon and wine on the air. And he wished her to be his.

Fear wove its way around his heart. He knew from experience that feelings as strong as the ones he was dealing with only ended in wreckage, and sometimes death. He straightened, ignoring her surprised look as he pulled up his slacks.

He couldn’t let her see his weakness. He couldn’t have a weakness. He would squelch this.

“Be ready by 9:00 tomorrow night. You’ll meet Marco at the airport by 10:00 p.m. I’ll send a car.”

He didn’t look at her as he shut the door behind him. He heard the door reopen and knew Grace was peering after him, but he didn’t turn around. If he did, he might go back to her.

 

Chapter Five

 

 

 

Stepping out into the hot sun with her carry-on bag, Grace surveyed her surroundings. The trees seemed to waver in the heat, and a droplet of sweat wound its way down the back of her neck. She dropped her sunglasses over her eyes and cast a glance behind her at Marco, who trailed her by two paces. They’d taken an overnight commercial flight but had sat in different areas of the plane. She shrugged, guessing now would be as good a time as ever, and strode over to Warren Bell.

“Hi,” she said, thrusting her hand in the reporter’s direction. “I’m Graciela Merced. I’ll be tagging along for CableNette, taking photos.”

“I know. Sorry I didn’t have time to meet you before we took off. I was told you were competent and that’s all I need. Nice to meet you now,” Warren said, without missing a beat. He shook her hand briefly then reached in his pocket for a small mirror, in which he studied his short brown hair. He turned to Marco. “I think Colombia calls for ‘reporter studiously wearing glasses’, don’t you?” He whipped out a pair of stylishly squared rims.

Marco smiled and shook his head. “Nah, Warren. Think about the sun off that glass. All of your stand ups are going to be outside.”

The reporter put on a mock frown. “Hrrmph. I suppose you’re right. Contacts it is, then. Just as well. No one can resist these baby blues, am I right, sister?” He elbowed Grace.

It made her giggle. Warren was nothing if not charming.

Marco put his weight between them, pretending the purpose was to engage Warren in talk about the upcoming shoots, but Grace saw the look in his eyes. It said “back off”. Her heart warmed inside her chest at the thought. There was something about Marco that made her skin shiver, and she couldn’t shake the feelings of affection that came with the sensation.

“Well, darlings, let’s go to our posh accommodations, then go to lunch. We’ve got to plan our itinerary, and seeing the sights isn’t going to fit in, if you know what I mean. Plus, I’ve got a meeting with a waitress at a local joint in about five hours. Don’t want to miss it. She’s got information for me. And as far as I hear, a killer set of legs.” Warren smiled broadly, which emphasized the small dimple in his right cheek. His perfect, straight white teeth gleamed against the beautiful olive tan of his skin. “Though I’m sure they can’t compare to yours,” he added, looking at Grace. “Maybe we’ll even have time for…dessert.” He stared at Grace while enunciating that last word, then laughed heartily at her shocked expression. “I’m just kidding, girlie,” he said. “It’s clear you belong to the associate producer.” He walked away from them, shaking his head. “No justice in this world, man,” he shouted to no one in particular. “I’m the fab reporter, and the AP gets all the beauty.”

“Don’t mind him,” Marco said, falling into step with her. “He’s all bluster. He’s a good-hearted man.”

“I think he’s funny,” she replied.

Marco gave her an assessing look. “Well, just don’t think he’s too funny. I’ve got enough going on. I don’t want to have to worry about you falling head over heels for our prize reporter.”

She didn’t answer this time, didn’t even look at him, but she squeezed his wrist gently and thought she felt a bit of his tension ease.

Good, she decided as they entered the parking lot. A little jealousy never hurt anyone. And she was having the time of her life. After being ignored for all of her twenties, in the span of just a few weeks she had gorgeous men lining up for her. She smiled, thinking back to her first interview with Gene. He’d barely glanced over her before saying, “She’ll do,” to the HR person and ushering her from the room. How little she’d known then. Maybe this secret agent thing would be worth it in the end. If she didn’t get herself killed.

That last thought came just a hair too late. As Marco flagged a taxi, something whizzed past her. A bullet, she realized in shock as more peppered the air.

“Fuck!” Warren shouted. “Quick, you two, get in here!” He held open a cab door and ducked behind it as more shots flew by.

“222 Avenida Dos, Esposola.” Marco recited the words calmly, as if they hadn’t just been out in open gunfire.

“What the hell was that?” Grace asked.

Warren shrugged. “Maybe they’re on to us already?”

“Don’t be so cocky,” Marco said. “The town we’re interested in is not particularly close to here. I highly doubt they’d send people up to shoot at you in Bogota. And if they did hire people to shoot at you, Bell, those people wouldn’t miss. That spat probably had nothing to do with us. Good reminder, though. This isn’t a vacation.”

After that, his mouth sealed into a tight line, and he signaled silence at them. The cabby hadn’t said anything, but he had definitely been listening.

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