Dire Distraction (14 page)

S
ydney slowly opened her eyes, stretching leisurely, enjoying the soft comfort of the crisp cotton sheets. She’d forgotten how nice civilization could be. The first pale rays of early morning sunlight were slanting through the window. Avery’s arm was wrapped around her waist, one leg thrown across her body, possessive even in slumber. With any other man, she would have felt trapped. A captive.

But with Avery it was different. The thought thrilled and frightened her all at the same time. They’d not talked about the future. By definition, their lives as operatives were lived day to day. But suddenly she found herself wondering what it would be like to have more. To give herself to someone completely. Always and forever.

The idea had always seemed so foreign. Like a lovely cloud completely out of reach. But now—Avery stirred, pulling her closer, his breath warm against her neck, and Sydney smiled—now the world seemed full of possibility.

She thought of her mother and father, seeing for once not the subjugation she’d always believed her mother endured but the choices she’d made. Choices that had allowed her to make a life with the man she’d loved. There had been sacrifices. But none of them worth the risk of losing the one thing that made everything worthwhile. A love that was as strong today as it had been all those years ago when a young teacher had met a village girl.

Maybe there was such a thing as true love after all.

The thought gave her pause, her stomach knotting as she looked down at the ring on Avery’s little finger—
Evangeline’s
ring. Clearly, he’d already found true love. And lost it. How could she ever think to fill a void like that? She could battle another woman. But not a ghost. She sighed. What she needed was to quit borrowing problems. Better to just enjoy what they had. Live in the now. She sighed, nestling into his warmth.

His arms tightened around her, and his lips found her neck.

She shivered, desire rising as she turned to face him. “You’re awake.”

“As much as I need to be,” he said, his big voice rolling over her, warm and seductive.

She traced the line of his shoulders, reveling in the feel of his muscles beneath her fingers. His hand found her breast, and she pressed against him, all rational thought fading away against the power of his touch.

His thumb rasped against her nipple, sending shards of pleasure dancing through her, and she deepened their kiss, breathing in his essence, holding it deep inside her. His hand moved lower, caressing the skin of her abdomen, soothing and exciting her with one touch.

His lips moved too, following the hollow of her cheek, his tongue sending more fire rippling through her as he traced the curve of her throat, his tongue moist and hot against her skin.

Then his head dropped lower, his mouth trailing along the line of her shoulder, his kisses teasing in their simplicity, his hand continuing to move across her skin. His mouth found the crest of her breast, the hot, sweet suction tantalizing with its promise of things to come.

Urgency built within her. The need for something more. For connection, belonging. The part of her she kept locked away, clamoring for release. The physical pull was so strong now. So essential. Like breathing.

With desire shimmering between them, she pushed closer, grinding her hips against his, her fingers brushing the velvety tip of his penis. With a groan, he rolled her on her back, his fingers dancing across her skin, sending shivers dancing along her oversensitized nerves. And then he braced himself on his elbows, his body stretched across hers, his sinewy strength the perfect foil for her soft curves.

His gaze locked with hers, then he moved back slightly, still holding her in place, and with one long thrust was inside her. They stayed that way for a moment, linked together as man and woman, the age-old connection suddenly taking on new meaning because it was Avery.

Then he thrust deeper as she pulled him closer, urging him onward. Together they began to move, finding their own private rhythm—until there was nothing but the two of them and the incredible sensation of the dance.

She closed her eyes, letting the motion carry her away. Aware of only the feel of him inside her, filling her, their fervor increasing with each touch, each movement raising the stakes, heightening the pleasure.

There should have been fear, uncertainty about tomorrow, but instead she felt only joy. This was where she belonged. Here. Now. With Avery. Together they moved faster and faster, deeper and harder, until the pleasure exploded, and there was nothing but the power of her orgasm and the feel of his breath against her skin.

Later, when the sun had risen higher in the sky, they lay together, arms and legs tangled, her head resting on his chest as she listened to the rise and fall of his breathing. Her mind drifted. Her body, for the moment, satiated.

“We should get up, you know,” she said, her inertia contradicting her words. “Your team will be looking for you.”

“My team can wait,” he said, rolling over so that they were eye to eye.

“But they flew half way across the world to rescue you,” she protested.

“And in the process saved something even more precious.”

She shivered, the tenderness in his voice almost her undoing as he reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“How did they find us anyway?” she asked, afraid to follow the train of his conversation any further. “I know they’re good, but it’s not like anyone knew where we were going. Or what we’d be walking into.”

“Hannah was keeping tabs on us through other contacts here. And when our boat was reported destroyed, she tried to reach me.”

“But the sat phone didn’t work.”

“Exactly. Which got her worried, so she called in the troops and they tracked the phone’s GPS signal. Apparently with the battery on, the signal was still there, even though the phone itself didn’t work. And they had the signal from your watch as well. So between the two of us, they could triangulate our position.”

“And ride to our rescue,” she finished for him. “Nicely done.”

“As I’ve said before, they’re a great team. Real heroes. Are you sure you’re really okay?” he asked, his thumb grazing the bruise on her cheek.

“I’m fine. I promise.”

“And the men who took you?” His gaze was probing now. “I take it they weren’t Shrum’s.”

“One of them was. Sai, the man I hit in the head. Or at least he was pretending to be. But when the attack started, he was clearly part of the offensive. In fact, he’s the one who killed Edward and the other men who were initially taking me back to the cell.”

“And they were trying to get you out of the compound?”

“Yes. The intent was definitely to take me alive. As opposed to you and Shrum.”

“Did they say why?”

“No. But I was worried that it was because of my father. They talked about my making them rich, and I heard them say the word
ambassador
.”

“Which means they knew who you were. And where you’d be. Interesting.”

“What about Shrum?” she asked. “Did he have insight into who might be attacking?”

“He didn’t. But the attack was clearly meant to take out the two of us. And considering the coordination it must have taken to plant the picture and track my decision to come here and confront Shrum, it would have taken sizable resources as well.”

“You think it was the Consortium.”

“It’s possible. There’s definitely evidence to support that, but there also seems to be a connection to the explosion in Iraq and Evangeline’s death.”

“I’m not following.”

“After Shrum left the CIA, he became obsessed with finding the person responsible for the bombing in Iraq. But he was having trouble getting access to the people who could give him the information he needed.”

“So he made himself into someone they could trust. That way they’d be more inclined to share information.”

“Exactly.”

“Did Langley know?”

“According to Shrum, yes. Which would explain why they were pulling you back.”

“But surely his killing Tim overrode any understanding they might have had. I mean you said it yourself, we take care of our own.”

“Except that he didn’t kill Tim.”

“But…” she started, then stopped, trailing off, waiting.

“He said he didn’t do it. That Tim never made it to his compound. And he vouched for his men as well.”

“How the hell can you believe anything he said?”

“Because I knew him. And because he was pretty damn sure it was Wai Yan. After we got here, I had Hannah run a check, and the way Tim was strung up fits Wai Yan’s manner of operation a hell of a lot more than Shrum’s.”

“Do Tim’s people in London know?”

“Yes. I made sure of it. And there’ll be a joint investigation. If it was Wai Yan, you can bet he’ll pay.”

“Thank you,” she said, humbled that he’d have gone to so much trouble for a man he never knew. “Tim was a good man. He would have liked you.”

“Under the circumstances, I kind of doubt that,” Avery smiled, the look in his eyes making her insides turn to jelly.

“You asked about me,” she said, sucking in a breath for courage, knowing she needed to ask. “How I was. But what about you? You’re the one who had to face Shrum and the truth about the photograph. It had to be like losing her all over again.” She waited, not completely sure she wanted to hear the answer.

“I think in my heart, I always knew the photo had to be a fake. It just didn’t make sense that Evangeline would have played me like that. She wasn’t the kind of woman to play games. If she’d wanted out, she’d have told me. But at the same time, I guess there was a little part of me that wanted it to be true. That didn’t want her to be dead.”

“Because you loved her.” Just saying the words hurt, but Sydney couldn’t stop herself.

Avery reached over to cup her chin in his hand. “Just because I loved her once, doesn’t mean I can’t love you now.”

Her heart stopped, then started again, beating so hard she thought it might fly out of her chest altogether. “Are you sure?” The question came out on a squeak.

Avery laughed and leaned in to kiss her. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Michael Brecht stared out the window of his personal jet, his mind racing as he watched the lights flashing at the end of the wing. So much hung in the balance. A-Tac was pressing closer, and Michael’s efforts to locate Joseph Isaacs had so far turned up nothing.

Either the man really was dead or he’d found a deep hole to hide in. But Michael hadn’t risen to his position of power by leaving things to chance. So he’d ordered his people to keep watching. Sooner or later the man was bound to make a mistake, and when he did, they’d be ready.

Loose ends were always a threat. And of late, it seemed that Michael was always putting out fires. Forced to react instead of taking the offensive. Leaning back against the soft leather of his seat, he sighed. It was time for success. Gregor was right, his inner Council was getting restless. And there wasn’t room for another failed attempt. Which meant stopping A-Tac once and for all.

And the best way to kill any beast was to chop of its head. But Avery Solomon was worse than a cat. Always managing to land on his feet. Not only to survive, but to thrive. Once upon a time, Avery had taken everything from him. And Michael had returned the favor. Pain for pain. But it hadn’t been enough. He wanted more. He needed more.

He wanted Avery Solomon dead.

It was a way to please the Council and a way to finally close the door on the past. Two birds. One stone.

Now if only things had gone as planned. He glanced down at his watch, wondering if even now, half a world away, his enemy lay dying. If there was justice, it would be so.

In the front of the plane, Gregor sat, deep in conversation with someone on his cell phone. He lifted an arm, gesturing as if the person on the other end could see. He looked angry. Michael felt a wash of dread. A premonition that Avery had yet again managed to find an escape.

Gregor clicked his phone shut and pushed to his feet, his big body dwarfing the aisle of the jet. His face as always was impassive, but something in his eyes told Michael that his suspicions were correct.

“That was the team leader on the phone,” Gregor said, without preamble. “Shrum is dead. And his compound is destroyed.”

“And Solomon?” Michael asked, already certain that he knew the answer.

“He escaped.”

Michael slammed his hand down onto an armrest, the resulting pain feeding into his fury. “We sent the equivalent of a small army. How the hell could he have gotten away? He was supposed to have been trapped there. An easy target from both the air and the ground.”

“You’ve said yourself that the man isn’t an easy mark.”

“But we set the trap perfectly. And the numbers were on our side. He was on his own without support.”

“Yes, well that’s just it. He wasn’t on his own.” Gregor sighed, allowing himself just the barest glimmer of a frown. “There was a helicopter. It swooped in out of nowhere. Our planes didn’t even see it until it was almost too late.”

“And did you ID the pilot?”

“Hannah Marshall. And the gunners were A-Tac as well. Nash Brennon and Drake Flynn.”

“His own goddamned personal army. And the girl? Did we secure her? At least tell me we managed to do that much right.”

“Negative,” Gregor said. “They apparently had her, but Solomon somehow managed to take them all out.”

“Incompetents.” Michael could feel a vein throbbing in his temple. “I’m surrounded by idiots. Must I do everything myself?”

“I don’t think it’s wise—” Gregor began, but Michael cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion. I simply asked you to get the job done. And here we are again with A-Tac coming out on top.”

“But we did get Shrum,” Gregor said, his tone defensive.

“A dying man isn’t exactly a difficult target. But at least one problem has been eliminated. He was asking too many questions, and getting too close to the truth. The issue now is how much of it he managed to share with Avery.”