Out of Sight (8 page)

AJ rattled off the list as if she were reading it. "Attacks on Federal facilities resulting in death. Aircraft piracy, hostage-taking. The use of destructive devices. Attacks on U.S. citizens abroad. Aiding and abetting. Murder. Kidnapping. Torture." She paused. "Latest atrocity—the bombing of a private, and very exclusive, girl's boarding school in Switzerland. Five hundred and eighteen girls, average age twelve, killed. That was two weeks ago. Public outcry for his ass has been heard from every country large and small. I think that about covers him."

Kane lifted the silver dome and set it aside. "You forgot sexual deviant. He's big into S and M."

"Don't ruin my appetite with minor details. Let's eat first." She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. "God, this smells incredible." She unwrapped her silverware and settled the napkin on her lap. "Coffee? It's American."

He glanced up. AJ held the heavy silver pot poised. She was strong. The container didn't waver. Her hand was slender, her nails short and clean. There was still a faint gleam of butter on her tanned skin. Kane felt an untoward spark of sexual attraction and immediately squashed it. "Sure. Thanks."

He'd read the reports and had been concerned about her temper. As well as her looks, her inexperience, and the fact that she was under his protection.

And damn it, this was the wrong business to feel any emotion. Temper. Joy. Disappointment. Fear. The enemy was everywhere. The slightest hint of any kind of feeling, and it would be used against you. Kane hardened himself against her satisfaction at being back in the game.

This op was going to require all of his skills just to keep them both alive. He had to be sharp, in control, and focused. Normally none of those would present a problem, but he'd known the first time he'd set eyes on Cooper she wasn't going to be the norm. Just the thought of once again being responsible for her safety knotted his stomach. Goddamn it. Too hungry to communicate, they ate in silence. He was silent, anyway. She couldn't seem to stop talking, even to chew. He blocked out the sound, but had a harder time with the visual. Barefoot, she wore blue jeans and a white tank top, which left her tanned shoulders and lightly muscled arms bare. Pale, ginger-gold hair was unceremoniously slicked off her face and twisted into a braid that hung almost to her waist. She absently tossed the long rope over her shoulder, leaving the front of the thin white cotton shirt damp. She was tall, toned, and drop-dead beautiful.

And way too much trouble.

"What?" she asked, looking up to catch him staring at her.

"You clean up well." Her moods were fascinatingly mercurial. She'd been furious in the elevator—why, he wasn't sure. Because he'd called her on her flirting? Possibly. He'd been well aware of her control. Yet the mood had passed almost before they reached their suite.

She smiled a smile potent enough to shoot straight to his groin. "Thanks. So do you." She gave him a thorough once-over in return. Kane sat still for her perusal. She inspected him with the careful attention he'd just given her. "You're really a master of disguise, aren't you? Just looking at you an hour ago, I would've sworn you were a hundred."

"That was the idea." He wasn't used to being scrutinized with such intensity. Although he was damn sure Cooper was. He knew there'd been disciplinary action taken with several male students in her class. Now that he'd seen her up close and personal, he pitied the poor bastards who'd given in to their hormones and fucked up promising careers.

"Eat before it gets cold." His tone was slightly annoyed. Which irritated the hell out of him. For years he'd gone for the Mr. Spock school of emotion. None at all served him well, and he had no intention of changing that now.

His cover as an internationally renowned photographer was more than a job. Photography was his passion. His artistic and creative outlet. He'd photographed many beautiful women over the years, they were a dime a dozen, but none of them had what Cooper had. She'd been chosen for this op specifically because she was a crack sharpshooter, but God only knew, it was her physical appearance that had proven to be her biggest selling point.

She smelled of roses.

Damn it.

"Have we had an update on Raazaq's location in the past six hours?"

"We know where he's going and when he'll be there." Good. Mind on business. Safest that way. Kane cut into his steak. Nice and bloody. Just the way he liked it.

"Are we still going to intercept?"

"Plans have changed." He motioned to her plate. "Eat. I'll fill you in."

She picked up her fork and resumed eating. "Go."

He told her the new plan, changed because of what had happened the day before. When he was done, and it had taken him all of four minutes, he rose from the table and crossed the room to retrieve a small bag.

"I bet if you read
War and Peace
you'd summarize it in a minute thirty," AJ said waspishly. "You could give Cliffs Notes a run for their money."

He returned to stand behind her. "I gave you the salient points."

She twisted around to see what he was doing. Kane made a motion with his hand for her to show him the back of her head. She sighed and obediently lowered her head. He began unplaiting her hair. "There's more to life than salient points, you know. Color, drama—"

"This is a mission," he informed her coldly. "You don't require either color or drama to do your job. In fact, the least amount of color and the absence of drama are preferable. Every legal avenue has already been attempted," he told her, annoyed because if he were on his own,
like he wanted to be,
he wouldn't be standing here smelling her hair and explaining himself. He sifted through the warm, wet, rose-scented strands to find the wound.

"Raazaq is slippery as hell and has, thus far, managed to elude every effort to capture him. This needs antiseptic."

"Done."

Strands of her long hair clung to his hands and wrists like licks of a flame as he inspected the lump on the back of her head. The jagged cut was already healing but he'd keep an eye on it. His fingers sifted through the fiery strands for a brief moment. He was almost surprised to find her hair cool to the touch, not blazing hot.

Kane removed his fingers from her hair with a silent curse. "You'll live."

"Good to know," AJ said wryly. She pushed her empty plate out of the way and reached for her coffee cup as he resumed his seat opposite her. She didn't do what any other woman would've done: mess with her hair. "Why did he target the school?"

"The daughters of high-profile heads of state from all over the world attended San Souci. He demanded the U.S. free the hundred members of the Freedom Fighter cell we're holding. The U.S. refused. Three of the girls were daughters of members of the British Parliament, another a minor princess. Thirty-two of the kids were from the States. Everyone wants swift retaliation. The United Nations just passed a resolution—get him, but keep it by the books."

She gave him a short smile and a nod of admiration. "You said on the flight over that's what they'd say."

Kane nodded. "They're predictable, I'll give them that." Security forces all over the world were aware Kane was heading up a team to go in after Raazaq. While the world champed at the bit for news reports of official inquiries, T-FLAC was doing its job. Covertly.

"Sure. Easy for them to say. Chaos reigns and we all get wet," AJ said, helping herself to another cup of fragrant coffee. "Do we know where he is now?"

"Just received confirmation. Moving south. Slowly."

"Looking over his left shoulder for us?"

"Enough clues were left that he'll think we were just one of a multitude of enemies. He'll be watching his back, but not for us. Luckily for the good guys, everybody wants a piece of Raazaq's ass and he knows it. The son of a bitch has more enemies than Satan."

"I hate to point this out, now that I'm back in the game, but his people will certainly recognize me when we come face-to-face. How will I pull that off?"

"I seriously doubt you'll be made. There was too much action, too far away. Your most recognizable features are your eyes and your hair. Your head was covered, your face and hair were masked by the sand and dust. The guys chasing us were low on the food chain, not hired for their observation skills."

She relaxed. Good. This could still be salvaged. "Did intel fill you in on why he's going to Fayoum in the first place? It's just a small oasis, a green smudge in the desert, isn't it?"

"He has a sister he raised himself when their parents were killed in a bus accident. Apparently they're very close, yet this is the first time anyone knew he had family. For obvious reasons he wouldn't want anyone to know of her existence. She's about to have her first baby and he's planned to visit her in the next couple of days."

"Unless we get to him first."

"Unless we get to him first," he agreed. "We're registered at the Auberge du Lac Hotel in Fayoum, where we'll arrive early this evening. I've arranged for a local to scout out scenic backdrops for our fashion-photo shoot for the next couple of days. The man's known as a talker. By the time we get there, everyone will be aware that a beautiful redheaded American model is in town."

"You're still not telling me what the—"

He cut her off and reached for the coffee. "Raazaq's sister lives in a village not far from there. He'll be one of the first people to find out about you. The temptation to meet you will draw him to one of our outdoor shoots. Or he might show up at the hotel. Either way, he'll ask you out. You'll go. Pick your opportunity carefully. You'll have only one shot at this. Once he's tipped to your real reason for being there, he'll be trying to take
you
out."

"I'm expected to walk up to him in front of witnesses and shoot him?"

"You're expected to do what you were sent here to do. Assassinate one of the world's most vicious terrorists. Shoot him. Poison him. Fuck him to death. Whatever it takes to do your job."

"Will I have poison?" AJ asked flatly.

"You will."

"Then two out of three can be considered options." She stood up and looked down at him. "Relax, superspy. I'm going to kill the little bastard, just like I said. Now, I'm off to take a nap. How long do I have? "

AJ sat on a silk-covered stool at the marble dressing table in the large, well-lit, and luxurious bathroom off her bedroom. Kane leaned against the sink counter, arms folded over his broad chest. Having a man—and such a large man, at that—in such an intimate space made it feel overcrowded and confining.

And damn it, she could
smell
him. It was a unique smell. Not soap, not cologne. Agents didn't use fragrance when they were on an op. It was the scent of his skin. How weird was that? She'd never been aware of a man's smell before. Pheromones. Being aware of what it was didn't make it less annoying. Distracting. Arousing.

"Smudge on a little more brown," Kane instructed. "Yeah. Like that. A little more undernea—no, more… Here, just give me that thing."

"Excuse me?"

"Lemme do it. You're not blending it right."

"Who're you, Max Factor?"

"Hand it over."

"I can do my own makeup."

He looked at her.

AJ sighed. "Here." She handed him the small eye shadow brush. "I've no doubt you can apply makeup better than I can. You certainly tend to wear more of it than I do."

She turned on the seat so he could apply the color himself. Kane stepped in front of her, his jean-clad groin at eye level, and about six inches away. A rush of sexual awareness washed over her. Jesus God. Her eyes shot to his face. It was impassive. Was it possible that he didn't feel anything? How could this attraction be so one-sided?

And what an effective way to keep her in her place, AJ thought with a small, self-deprecating smile.

One-sided or not, she had a mental flash of him on top of her. Bare sweaty skin to bare sweaty skin. She felt his weight, the slide of his hair-roughened leg along her smooth calf…

"Yo, Cooper. You paying attention?" he demanded, bending down to peer at her face.

She swallowed hard, then glared up at him, suddenly feeling antsy and cranky herself. Her insides felt like they were on speed. Damn it. It just didn't matter how hot he made her. She was not about to screw up her second chance at building a career by doing anything stupid. He already thought little enough of her as it was. She wasn't about to compound the feeling. "Yes. You're fascinating. But it's hot in here."

He'd been nit-picking her makeup application for the last fifteen minutes. Man, give a guy a little authority and it went straight to his head. She wanted to
go.
She'd slept for three hours, and awakened alert and ready for just about anything. They were already getting a late start—it was past two—so they'd be traveling in the worst heat of the day. "If you'd just let me do it myself, we could be out of here in a few minutes." She cocked her head and gave him a one-eyed glare. "Do I tell you how to shave?"

"A: If you could do it yourself, I wouldn't have to. And B: The day I need your help is the day—" He broke off.

"Can't finish that one, can you?" she challenged. It wasn't easy to maintain a one-eyed glare, but she gave it her best shot, as he had her other one closed. "Because you
do
need me. Even Command thinks so."

"Command doesn't know jack."

"That's loyal."

"That's honest." He took her chin and tilted up her face. "Open your eyes. Hold the pot and look up. And while you're at it, shut up." He stroked the tip of a brush through the shadow and layered it beneath her left eye in small, sure strokes. Dabbed and stroked again. Leaned back, checked out his handiwork, then started on her other eye.

"You can let go of my face. I can hold my own head still," AJ pointed out. His hand felt cool on her hot skin. He was looking at her hard enough to notice every pore. She hoped to hell he didn't count mind reading as one of his many talents. He dropped his hand and scrabbled around in the cosmetic bag beside him.

Her erect nipples rasped against the inside of her bra. She glanced down. Oh, this wasn't good. She was hot, bothered, and blatant. Thank God Kane was oblivious. Or he would be if he didn't glance down and see her body's response to his.

His warm, coffee-scented breath fanned her face. He was close enough for her to see the dark blue rings around his irises.
Talk,
she told herself.
Keep him too busy to notice that you're panting like an idiot.
"How do you know so much about applying a woman's makeup, anyway?"

His eyes narrowed as he inspected his handiwork. Apparently not satisfied, he reapplied the small brush to her lid. "It's all part of the art of disguise."

"So you
don't
moonlight on Broadway as a chorus girl."

"You're a laugh a minute. Cooper."

"Well, you do have great legs."

"You're still talking."

"Right." She almost nodded, then figured he'd put her eye out. "So, you studied and perfected it." His hundred-year-old man had been amazing. "I wish you'd teach me how you did the old guy look. It would be fascinating to live in that skin for a while."

"Wrong op. You look just like we need you to look for this one."

"I wanted to work for T-FLAC so I didn't have to use my appearance for my job."

"Then you're a fool," he told her. "Your appearance is not only an asset, it can be a weapon. Have you had any classes with Savage?"

"Not yet."

"Well, hold on to your hat," he told her, and AJ wondered if there was something going on between Kane and Savage. As soon as the thought wandered into her brain, her blood began to simmer. Kane kept talking, oblivious. "That woman'll show you moves you've never even considered. She uses every God-given attribute to her advantage. Most men think with their little heads. Keep them off balance enough and you can use it to drag them where you want like a pull toy."

"I figured that out already. I've been a girl a lot longer than you have."

"Trust me, I noticed. Here." He handed her a tube of mascara, keeping eye contact. "I imagine you can do this part unsupervised?"

"I don't know.
Mom.
Maybe you shouldn't leave me alone with this. I might poke my eye out." When he just frowned at her, she blew out a frustrated breath. "Thanks for the tips."

He went back to his perch, half sitting, half leaning on the marble counter beside her. At least she wasn't eye to eye with the
Little General
anymore.

Her breasts ached for the touch of his hands…

The image of their entwined naked bodies was starting to make her sweat.

It was so vivid. So sharp. So damn real that she was revved up and wanting more, just thinking about it.

She jerked the mascara wand from the container and applied goop to her lashes in short, annoyed strokes.

Why did she always want to sneeze the second she'd applied mascara? "You know, all this crap is going to melt off the second I step out into that heat."

"I want you in character when we leave the hotel. And I want you to stay in character until your job is done. Sultry, and seductive. Bimbo with a brain. Not girl next door."

"Fine. Is this sultry enough for you?" She turned her face to glare at him and worked her lips into a guppy kiss, while batting her now completely gooped eyelashes. Did his lips just twitch? Nah.

He gave her a mild look. "You'll do." He leaned his butt against the sink and inspected her face as if it were the Holy Grail. "Yeah, you'll do just fine. We'll have air-conditioning in the car for a few hours at least. By the time we get to Fayoum it'll have cooled off a bit. Is your hair naturally curly?"

"Unfortunately, yes." She frowned. "Which is why I keep it long and braided. Otherwise I look like Orphan Annie. What about supplies?"

"Taken care of. Leave the hair loose when we leave. It'll be like a flashing neon sign telling Raazaq and his minions where you are." He stopped, cocked his head. "Is that what the 'A' stands for? Annie?"

"No. My hair will get full of sand and make my scalp itch." She met his stony face and caved. "Oh, okay. Fine. Loose it will be." She glanced at him for a moment. "Do we have a staff of elves or something?" She shot him an exasperated glance. "Who took care of obtaining our supplies?"
Can we please get the hell out of this bathroom now?

"Our Cairo-based people. I checked everything while you slept. We're good to go. What
does
it stand for?" .

He was like a dog with a bone. And a small one, at that. "AJ."

He raised a brow. "Your parents christened you AJ?"

"Unfortunately, no. But that's what it is now. "

"You had it legally changed?"

"Yep." At thirteen, she had stood firm. Name change and she'd go back on the pageant circuit. No name change and she'd refuse to budge. She hadn't answered to any other name since. "You ready to go?"

Kane levered himself off the counter. "Here," he said, sounding cranky again. "Put them on." Temper flashed in his eyes as he handed her a pair of small gold hoop earrings. It was gone so quickly AJ thought she might've imagined it. Wow. Anyone who could control emotion like that was someone to tread lightly around.

"Each holds one dose of poison. One's for Raazaq. One's for you. Just in case."

Just in case Raazaq and his gang decided to do unspeakably painful things to her body. AJ shuddered and took the earrings from his outstretched hand. A zing of electricity charged up her arm when their skin brushed. Their eyes met. He frowned. Annoyed again.

"Will your face actually break if you smile?" she asked, muttering the question more out of frustration than in the hope of an answer. "What's wrong with you, anyway?" AJ demanded, getting crankier herself by the minute. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to control her moods as efficiently as he seemed to. It was like watching a blind come down over a window.

"Me?" He sounded surprised. "Not a damn thing."

She stopped him with her hand on his arm. "Right. Look, if you're cranky because I'm on the op, that's not my fault. Your superiors made the call. And if you're being a pain because I won't tell you my former name… then get over it."

His eyes narrowed with irritation. "Your name should be Angina."

"And yours should be Pain in the Ass." She huffed out a breath and leaned in to make her glare more impressive. "You don't know jack about when not to push a lady, do you?"

"You're too damn beautiful," he finished as if she hadn't spoken.

Okay, a few minutes ago, she'd been doing a lot of daydreaming about rolling in the sheets with this guy. But for some reason, hearing him call her beautiful didn't hit the right buttons. It went in the opposite direction. She'd been judged on her looks all her life, and damn it, she was sick and tired of it.

AJ's teeth ground together, "Well, excuse me all to hell," she shot back hotly. "It's a gene thing. It's not like I had anything to do with it! If I had, I'd have arranged to look like a mud fence so guys like you wouldn't think I didn't have two working brain cells to rub together. So if looking at me bothers you… Look at something else, for God's sake. The reason I'm here is to kill Raazaq."

"It'll work."

"Huh?"

"You. The beautiful thing. It'll work on Raazaq, and that's all that matters."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Look," she said, "if it'll help, pretend I'm a ninety-seven-year-old man under the makeup."

"Cooper, nobody's imagination is that good."

"Well, you're the great Kane Wright," she said, shoving past him to stomp out of the damn bathroom. "Find a way to make it work."

Kane hadn't said more than a dozen words in the hour since they'd left Cairo, and with another hour to go before they reached Fayoum, she'd be climbing the walls before then. The Hummer had excellent air-conditioning, but it was visibly hotter than hell outside the confines of their vehicle, and the sun was completely on her side of the car. Heat shimmered like water on the blacktop ahead of them. She wanted to strip off her too tight clothes, and jump into the mirage to cool off.

They were traveling south, parallel to the Nile. A wide swath of verdant green farmland stretched out on either side of the slow-moving river. Beyond its reach the dry barrenness of the desert appeared like a soft golden-brown blanket covering the world as far as the eye could see.

"Is it just me, or do you not communicate with humans?" AJ demanded, breaking the silence only because she could hear herself thinking.

"I'm not uncommunicative," Kane said mildly. "I'm meditative."

"Great. I'm teamed up with Ghandi."

He snorted a laugh and she cheered up a little. "Wow. Was that an actual reaction?"

"Don't press your luck."

"Quit meditating and talk to me, or I'll talk to you and you already know how good I am at that," she warned, and even while his gaze narrowed, she went on another rant—the kind that used to drive her brother, Gabriel, nuts. "So if you think about it, all of these planted fields probably look the same as they did three thousand years ago. Do you think the pharaohs used irrigation systems, or did they just beat small children until they cried enough to water the plants?" No response. Fine, she could keep this up all day. "Did you know that some people believe the pyramids were built by space aliens? It would explain a lot, but what do you think? Was it ancient astronauts, or were the Egyptians just really good architects, or—"

"Okay!" he snapped. "I surrender."

"There. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

They passed a small collection of mud-brick houses. Children waved as they drove by.

"What're you feeling so chatty about?"

They were in the middle of nowhere. Straggly vegetation, date palms, and sand as far as the eye could see. "Have something else you'd like me to do while you drive?" AJ had several lascivious thoughts. She folded her arms across her chest and tried to imagine being immersed in ice cold water.

"It's not my job to keep you amused. Take a nap."

T-FLAC operatives were trained to sleep for as little as a couple of hours at a stretch and wake refreshed. This cycle allowed them to function on smaller amounts of sleep, allowing them to handle stress and pressure if they had to go thirty-six hours straight without sleep on an op.

Navy SEALs had nothing on T-FLAC's Hell Week. Which was fondly called Beyond Hell
month.
Of the recruits who made it through basic training, another 90 percent rang the bell after BHM.