Circle of Deception (33 page)

She glanced at her watch. Time to get her act together and pick up speed. By the time the authorities responded to a passerby’s 911 call, she needed to be on the road, heading to I-90 and Denver. Unless someone noticed the spray of blood before he landed in the water, they would be clueless that he’d been hit by a sniper until they dragged the body out of the water.

Inside ten minutes, she sauntered out of the fingerprint-cleaned apartment, pulling a rolling safari-chic suitcase behind her while clutching a large tote on her shoulder. The black linen pants, tailored black silk blouse, and auburn hair piled on top of her head shouted business trip.

The clouds in the blue sky had separated allowing the sun to peek between the breaks. Emergency vehicles zoomed by and their echoing sirens bounced off the buildings. They headed toward the boardwalk further down the street as a small crowd pointed at the water.

About the time she walked the block and half to the parking deck and threw the luggage into the trunk of her rental, her cell phone vibrated.

“Yes, sugar booger.” She loved irritating the hell out of her handler.

Jason Kastler thought he was God’s gift to women, and she took every opportunity to remind him his good looks were good only for one thing, to play a Romeo, an operative who seduced women for information. Whenever he walked into a room, women watched his every move as if he was a walking sex toy. He hated it when she reminded him that men stared too. With his sun-kissed blond hair, vivid blue eyes, and six-foot-six frame, he needed someone carving off his massive ego.

“Sugar booger? Christ, woman, can’t you be the least bit respectful?” His growl revved her engine.

Good-looking
and
an orgasmic-inducing voice. It really was a shame. She could use him at the moment, though it would never happen. He liked to be the one in control. One thing about her, she always relished being the one on top.

“Respect is earned, doll. The job’s done, and I’m heading to my next assignment’s location. I already have a plan. Should take me a couple months to set up. I just need to scout the area,” she said, ready to move on.

She tossed her purse to the passenger side and then slammed the driver’s side door. Wasting no time, she had the cell phone plugged into the radio’s speakers before cranking up the car. The state of Washington had a hands-free cell-phone law and ironically, considering her job, she followed all the traffic laws. The last thing she needed was to be pulled over for a minor infraction and be caught with the sniper rifle and numerous other weapons hidden on her person and in the rental.

“Change of plans . . . Theo wants you to return to the office. We have a ticket waiting for you at the airport.” He was smiling. That light tone shouted his enjoyment in frustrating her.

She shut her eyes for a moment, anxiety curled in her stomach; he knew how much she hated flying. Not counting the up and down of the plane, the arranging for her arsenal to be shipped across country without her was a pain in the ass. The roar of the plane’s engines didn’t help the defenseless feeling.

Being ordered off an assignment by Theo was a bad sign. She avoided any face-to-face with him as much as possible. Hell, she’d worked hard for her freedom and for the last couple of years he rarely required her presence. So this meant something bad. Last time he’d made the demand, it had taken her a week to recover. He wasn’t an easy man to please, and she no longer cared about satisfying his perversions. From the orphanage to the streets to Theo’s control, there was always somebody waiting to use her, to take advantage of her. No more. She wouldn’t go back to being that girl, begging for kindness and love. She squeezed her eyes closed, blocking out the images. No more. She dreaded being that needy little girl again. Tears welled up, threatening to spill.

Inhale. Exhale. Worrying wouldn’t help. She struggled to regain her usual calm, steady façade. She took several more deep breaths, hoping it stopped the feeling of panic engulfing her. Pressure applied by her fingertips on the corner of her eyes pushed back the tears.

Olivia knew it was useless to argue. Operatives never won arguments against Circle handlers; disagreeing too much could be unhealthy. People had been known to disappear.

“Okay. Tell me which airline.” She took another deep breath.

As he spit out the instructions, she turned the car toward a local UPS store and made her plans. Two hours later she boarded the plane, and all her weapons, including her gun, were on their way in several parts to her home in Georgia.

She settled into her first-class seat. After questioning the flight attendant, she learned the plane was full for the nonstop flight to Atlanta. She hated it when the seat next to her was used. No elbow room. Not that she was tall—a mere average height of five foot five—or big—roughly a hundred and twenty pounds. She didn’t like strangers rubbing against her and often took the window seat, not for the view since she usually pulled down the shade, but so she could lean against the wall of the cabin, putting as much distance between her and the next seat. First-class seats were wide enough she could even pull her feet up beside her, but she always loved more room.

Pretending to stare out the window, she waited for the rest of the plane to load. One drawback to first class was having every man and woman file by, staring at those seated in the more expensive rows. Bloody hell, wouldn’t they hurry up? She hated the closed-in feeling, the helplessness, the sitting and waiting, the curious looks. Couldn’t the freaking flight attendants help the tourists place their handhelds into the overhead compartment, so everyone would quit staring at her?

Closing her eyes for a few seconds, she mentally shook herself. What good was it to be short tempered, bitchy? Sure, crowds made her uncomfortable. Too many people pressing in, too many staring, guessing at what she did for a living. Was
murderer
written on her face, her clothes? She hated feeling like this. Add in her unexpected meeting with Theo, and she was certain she would go crazy.

When she was about to scream in frustration, the last person walked through. Whoever had the ticket for the seat next to hers hadn’t arrived yet. Maybe she’d be lucky, and the seat would remain open. She rarely slept well the night before a hit, and it would be wonderful to stretch out.

The attendant pulled on the door and stopped when someone shouted from the walkway.

Olivia dug her nails into the armrests. Shouting always grated across her nerves. She always expected the worse. Had she screwed up and the local yokels or the big boys were after her? When she heard laughing, she realized whatever happened didn’t involve the law. People rarely laughed when the authorities showed up.

“Sorry, my flight was late coming in. I almost didn’t make it,” a deep voice said.

She looked up. Oh, yes, this was what she needed. The man was a good six-one, possibly two, and the Armani suit showed off his wide shoulders perfectly.

He glanced toward the empty seat the attendant pointed to and then he looked at her. Those mysterious dark eyes punched the breath out of her. Set in an angular face with a small dimple in the chin, his eyes appeared almost amber, glowing with such a life force. His lips etched full but still masculine and begged to be licked. Oh, she liked the look of those lips. His nose was manly, not crooked from fighting but not a picture-perfect narrow one either.

Yeah, she liked the package in front of her. Now if she could remove the wrapping to see what lay underneath. Her body had been humming ever since she’d completed her mission. With those gorgeous eyes and his athletic body, she was more than willing to put him through his paces.

Maybe being stuck on a plane for five hours wouldn’t be so awful after all. This stranger she wouldn’t mind touching or have him touching her. She reached out and introduced herself.

“Hi, I’m Olivia Roth.”

“Joe Murphy.” He held her hand for a second longer than necessary.

Her grin spread wider. Oh, yeah, this was going to be a whole lotta fun.

By the time the tires bounced and rolled on the tarmac at Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport, Olivia already had Joe inviting her to dinner that evening. She felt primed and ready to give her new friend a good time. Since taking a stranger home with her was out of the question, she worked her wiles until he told her he was staying at the Marriott Marquis.

Then she remarked, “Isn’t that a coincidence? I’m staying there too.” She liked how his eyes glimmered when she said that. To him, she was a lone woman on a business trip, easy pickings for a one-night fling.

She ducked into the women’s restroom at the airport and called reservations. The Marquis happened to be her favorite hotel, and they had room. When she stepped out, her gaze zeroed on Joe, leaning against the wall nearby; his eyes drank in every inch of her. Oh, yes, he was exactly what she needed.

They shared a cab, laughing and talking all the way to the hotel’s check-in counter. As they walked toward the elevators, he mentioned wanting to visit one of the restaurants below street level. She smiled.

They would never make it. Though she detested strangers brushing up against her, she didn’t mind using one to release her tension, to forget what her job entailed. Her body using his throughout the night until he fell exhausted from her demands. And she had many demands.

Oh, yeah, a beautiful thing about being a phantom in the world of assassins, at the end of a mission she could enjoy a little downtime with a good-looking man. No one in the world knew what she did except her handler and Theo. She’d always been careful.

Leaning against the glass wall of the elevator, she stared as the lobby became smaller. A few more years and she’d kill Theo and disappear.

One corner of her mouth lifted as she looked from beneath her eyelashes at the man next to her. “I’ll be waiting for you at seven-thirty.” She felt like the spider waiting for the fly.

T
HE KNOCK CAME
at seven-thirty on the dot. She liked how his amber eyes flared when she opened the door and waited with one hand on her hip. Her deep sigh brought that burning gaze to her breasts.

She’d dressed—better yet, undressed—specifically to push all thought of food from his mind. The lace-and-mesh deep ruby nightgown brought out the red highlights in her hair that flowed down her shoulders and made her skin appear a creamier white. Her full breasts tested the strength of the well-placed lace. Masterfully applied makeup emphasized the green of her eyes and the fullness of her dark red lips. Her bare toes peeked out beneath the edge of the gown and a fragile tinkle rang from her anklets, drawing his attention to her long, long legs as the slit at the side opened and closed with her every movement. She knew how to rein in a man’s interest.

“I like a woman who knows her mind,” he said in a low voice. His lips lifted, allowing only a flash of white teeth.

She stepped back and without hesitation he walked in.

“And I like a man who knows what he wants.” She closed the door and leaned against it. With deft fingers, she locked it with a double click behind her.

“So no dinner.” One dark eyebrow lifted.

“A man who picks up on the subtleties.”

His body grazed hers as he moved closer and looked down, a grin flitted across his lips. “You look beautiful,” he murmured. “Damn, you smell good.” He inhaled, his eyes half closing as he brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. “You feel good too. Smooth, soft, hot.”

Though she enjoyed being called beautiful, she knew better. Makeup and clothes could hide many defects and she was an expert at it. Yet she appreciated a man who would lie to get what he wanted, especially when she had done the same.

“For you. Hot for you.” Her eyelids heavy, she leaned toward him.

He slid his hands down her arms. His gaze traveled a burning trail across her breasts. “Luscious.”

“What a sweet talker.” Her nimble fingers pulled at his tie and worked the knot loose until she had the silk material in her hand and tossed it over her shoulder. Then she started on his shirt.

His hand clasped her wrists before the second button made it through the hole.

“Wait,” he said softly.

Her shoulders drooped. She wanted to forget about what she did today. Hell, to forget what she did for a living just for a few hours, to immerse all her thoughts in a hard male body. She took a deep sigh, causing her breasts to lift high enough to catch his attention again and remind him of what waited. Did he really want to chitchat? Patience wasn’t one of her virtues.

She hoped to survive her nine a.m. meeting with Theo tomorrow and still go on assignment. And that could be anywhere, maybe Denver as she’d been originally scheduled, or even somewhere on the other side of the world, far, far away from Theo. What a lovely thought.

Anyway, the memories she made tonight would help her live through the time she spent with Theo or at the least make them bearable. She puckered her lips and looked up at him beneath her eyelashes, pretending to pout.

His heated look confirmed it worked.

“I have to taste you,” he whispered, his lips brushed her cheek.

“Yes, sir,” she teased. Before she could raise her face, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her to his mouth. His tongue thrust against hers, tasting, stroking until her fingers dug into his back.

Whoa! The man knew how to kiss.

He lifted his head.

She liked how he tasted of whiskey and male heat. She wanted more. She tried to push him away but he grabbed her arms.

Who did he think he was? She preferred to be the one in control. Before she could show him how she felt about his manhandling, his lips fanned small bursts of hot air against hers as he said, “I couldn’t resist a sample. I wanted to see if you’re as spicy as you look.”

Her skin heated and stretched so tight she thought she would burst from need. The man did have a way with words.

“And?” She rubbed her breasts against his hard chest.

“Another taste. Just once more.” His mouth covered hers. He sucked in her bottom lip, and then his tongue dove into her mouth, taking what she offered, taking all he wanted. Whenever she tried to meet his tongue with her own, he thrust harder, opening her mouth wider, dominating the kiss and her response, showing her what he liked and giving her an idea of what else he expected from her. He decided on the rhythm of their kiss and she was surprised by how much she enjoyed letting him have the lead. Her body softened as he took her breath away.