Shades of Gray (5 page)

CHAPTER 7

COLE
sat with the others while they waited for P.J. to make her appearance. She and Donovan
and the woman he’d hired to make her over had been holed up in that damn hotel room
for two hours and he was growing more irritable by the minute.

Every one of his gut instincts told him this was all wrong. He couldn’t believe that
Donovan and Steele had signed on to put P.J. in such a vulnerable position and he
couldn’t believe P.J. had agreed.

Well, maybe he wouldn’t go that far. P.J. was hard-core. It was one of the things
he admired about her. She did her job and she never complained. She kept up with the
guys on their team, and if he were honest, he’d admit oftentimes she went above and
beyond.

She was a damn good shot, and as much as it bruised his ego, he’d never engage her
in an outright shoot-off. She’d probably smoke his ass and he’d never live it down.

He rubbed his hands down his jeans and drummed his thumb over his knee.

“How the fuck long does this take anyway?” he grumbled.

The door to the adjoining room opened, and Donovan stepped out adorned in a swanky
tux and shiny, expensive-ass shoes, and his hair looked like it had some sort of gel
in it.

Whistles went up and Donovan rolled his eyes.

“Damn man, you look good,” Dolphin crowed.

“Where’s P.J.?” Steele asked. “We need to move out in a few minutes if we’re going
to stay on schedule.”

Donovan turned and reached behind him. A moment later, he pulled P.J. out to stand
beside him. The entire room went dead silent.

Cole damn near swallowed his tongue. Ho-ly fuck.

P.J. looked like a goddamn million dollars. She was wearing a dress that gave a whole
new definition to
little black dress
. And hell but it was little. Tiny!

It fit snugly at her hips and clung to her thighs, stopping several inches above her
knees. The top had a scooped neck that gave an impressive glimpse of her cleavage.
The soft mounds rose temptingly just at the neckline but gave enough mystery to make
a man really want to tug just a little at that top.

Her hair was upswept and tendrils escaped down her cheeks and at her nape, giving
her a soft, feminine look that had Cole groaning. Diamonds hung from her ears. Hell,
he hadn’t even known her ears were pierced. Around her neck was a simple diamond pendant
that said expensive but elegant and not overstated.

Around her wrist she wore a dazzling bracelet that grabbed the light and bounced it
back. Her nails. She even had fingernails for the occasion. Perfectly manicured and
painted shiny red to match the splash of color on her lips.

Her eyelashes were long, accentuating startling green eyes, and he was gratified to
see that other than lipstick and mascara, they hadn’t done much else. She didn’t need
a lot of makeup. She was just fine the way she was.

But the pièce de résistance was her . . . legs.

Holy hell in a bucket. Donovan had said this Nelson guy went for killer legs, and
Cole knew from personal experience that P.J. had a very nice set, but seeing her in
heels and that short dress?

He wiped at his mouth to make sure there was no drool or that he wasn’t gaping.

She was stacked. Toned from a strict exercise regimen. Her legs were a thing of beauty,
and he didn’t have to think hard to remember how they’d felt wrapped around him while
he was sliding into her over and over.

Sweat beaded his brow just as the room erupted in reaction to seeing P.J.

“Dayum!” Baker exclaimed. “Holy shit, P.J., you’re hot!”

She grimaced and Cole could see the nervousness in her eyes. Her discomfort was obvious.
She didn’t like being in the limelight.

Dolphin whistled and grinned. “Van was totally right. You clean up good, girl!”

Renshaw added a catcall of his own.

“You look beautiful, P.J.,” Steele said in his calm, unruffled tone.

Beautiful? Hell, she was fucking gorgeous. But Cole liked her just fine in camo with
face paint on. He’d fantasized more than a few times about taking her to bed, stripping
off her fatigues and getting her face paint all over both of them.

“You got nothing to say, Cole?” Dolphin asked incredulously. “She looks sa-weet!”

Cole cleared his throat and then saw the desperate look in P.J.’s eyes. It annoyed
him. She should know him better than to think he’d let on what had happened between
them. Not that he gave a damn. Right about now, he’d like to have a stamp that said
“Mine, stay the hell away” to put right on her forehead.

“You look killer, P.J.”

“Thanks, guys,” she said in a low voice.

“Okay, here’s how it goes down,” Steele said, snapping everyone’s attention back to
him. “Donovan and P.J. will arrive together. We’ll be monitoring P.J.’s every move
as soon as she breaks away.”

Cole’s eyes narrowed. “Where the hell is her wire and how on earth is it going to
hide in that getup? It doesn’t even cover
her
, much less anything else.”

P.J. scowled at him.

“Don’t mess up that lipstick, darlin’,” he drawled. “It looks too pretty on you.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Cut it out you two,” Steele barked.

“P.J. is wearing the latest of my tech toys,” Donovan said with a grin he reserved
for any time he was talking about his high-tech playthings.

He lifted her arm and turned it slightly so the inside of her upper arm was visible.

“What you can’t see is the flesh-colored patch. It’s actually made from human skin
and blends seamlessly with her own skin. Underneath is the chip that enables us to
hear everything she hears.”

“For real?” Dolphin asked.

He got up and moved closer. He reached out to touch her arm, running his finger up
and down from her elbow to underneath her armpit. Cole wanted to tell him to keep
his hands to himself, but that wouldn’t go over well with P.J.

“I’ll be damned,” Dolphin said. “I can’t tell it’s there.”

“That’s the point,” Steele said dryly.

Donovan continued. “I have flesh patches with GPS locators as well, but her bracelet
has a minicam that displays images in real time in high definition. With a simple
touch of her cheek or a casual brushing of a piece of her hair behind her ear, she
can give us a good view of everything around her. And it has a GPS locator in case
we need to find her fast, so it kills two birds with one stone.”

Cole’s gut tightened. He didn’t want to think of worst-case scenarios.

“So let me get this straight,” Cole cut in. “You and P.J. go to this highbrow party.
She splits off from you, hones in on this Nelson guy and comes on to him, tells him
where she’s staying and then leaves and waits for him to come to her?”

The others looked at him oddly.

“We’ve been over this,” Steele said impatiently.

“Yeah, well, I just want to make sure.”

P.J. shrugged. “He may want to leave with me. Either way the result is the same. No
one can predict what he’ll want or if he’ll even rise to the bait. But adapting to
a changing situation is what we do and we’re damn good at it.”

“Hooyah,” Dolphin crowed. “I say we make her an honorary SEAL.”

Yeah, Cole knew he was being a total wuss about the whole thing. He just couldn’t
get rid of the knot in his gut. He just wanted the night to be over with and for P.J.
to be back where she belonged. Safe. With her team. Preferably where he could see
her at all times.

“And that’s precisely why we have to stay on our guard,” Steele said. “We don’t know
how it’s going to go down.”

He turned to P.J. “If you need out at any time, you know the word. Don’t hesitate
to use it. At the party, Cole, Dolphin, Baker, Renshaw and I will be outside spread
out over the perimeter. Once you leave, we’ll tag you and follow you back to the hotel.
If anything changes, just make sure you’re talking about it so we know what’s going
on.”

Donovan touched her arm. “I’ll be inside the entire time until you leave. Any problems,
I’ll be watching.”

Then he turned to the others. “There’s a lot riding on this. Aside from the obvious
need to rid the world of this scumbag and get those girls back to their homes, there
are three governments offering a huge bounty if we deliver this asshole. Dead or alive,
they don’t care. Resnick wants him alive because he wants information on his network.
As much as our resident CIA contact has annoyed the shit out of me in recent times,
I’m inclined to agree with him on this one. Brumley is just the supplier. There are
a lot of sick sons of bitches who are buying these girls out there, and I want their
asses too.”

Everyone nodded their agreement, their expressions grim.

“Then let’s go nail his ass to the wall,” P.J. said. “I can flirt with the devil himself
if it helps us save those babies.”

Cole blew out his breath because she was right. If it were any other woman except
P.J. he wouldn’t be so pissed over her going into this kind of situation. This is
what they did. Whatever it took to accomplish the mission.

He had to stop thinking of her as the woman he’d slept with, the woman he’d laid claim
to, even if she had no idea that in his mind she was his.

She was just a teammate tonight. One he had to back up and make sure they got out
safe and unhurt. It was nothing they hadn’t done a hundred times before.

“Okay then, if there are no questions or concerns, let’s move out,” Steele said.

CHAPTER 8

THE
residence wasn’t what P.J. had been expecting. It was right in the heart of the city
with off-street parking. Four men were performing valet duties and quickly moving
along the line of cars waiting.

Donovan had opted to park a block away so he’d have access to a vehicle if necessary,
and he and P.J. walked toward the gate, where two burly looking security men had been
posted to check invitations.

Interestingly enough, there were several women, all decked out like Christmas trees
scattered along the sidewalk. A stunning blonde was approached by one of the men getting
out of his car. They conversed a moment and then the woman smiled and looped her arm
through the man’s and they walked to the gate where he flashed his invitation.

“Is that the European equivalent of a blind date?” P.J. murmured.

Donovan chuckled. “Working girls. Just more high-class. And a hell of a lot more expensive.
They get wind of a party like tonight’s and they know they can score a sugar daddy
for the evening.

“Is that what you are tonight?” she asked mischievously. “My sugar daddy?”

“Hell no, I’m dumping your ass as soon as we get inside, remember?”

They both fell silent when they approached the gate. Donovan extended the ornately
inscribed invitation and they were motioned inside where another man directed Donovan
to hold his hands above his head while he patted Donovan down.

He glanced a moment at P.J. but then motioned her on after deciding there weren’t
a lot of options for her to be hiding a weapon.

It would make her feel a whole hell of a lot better if she had a handgun at least.
Her rifle was an extension of herself. It was odd not to feel her hands around it
when she was on a mission. But a pistol would do nicely for this occasion. Then maybe
she wouldn’t be so nervous.

Some women packed purses. P.J. packed heat.

The stairway of stone steps leading up to the front door was long, and P.J. prayed
she wouldn’t trip in her heels and break her neck before they ever got inside.

When they finally reached the top, she sighed in relief and then took a deep breath
as they entered the house. They were directed through the foyer and then to where
double doors were open wide.

Music and the din of conversation could be heard from within. Donovan didn’t hesitate,
but walked in as if he owned the place, arrogant and confident. Surprisingly, he fit
right in among the glitz and the glam of all the attendees.

P.J. stopped in her tracks when she took in the glittering ballroom. Donovan’s grip
tightened on her hand as he tucked it underneath his arm.

“Don’t slow now,” he murmured. “Smile and look confident. Like you belong.”

Easy for him to say. Places like this struck terror in her heart. It was filled with
beautiful people. Beautiful rich people.

There was a sea of them.

She nearly laughed as Donovan expertly maneuvered them through the crowd toward the
bar. She was here to garner the attention of one specific man. Gorgeous women were
stacked wall to wall in this place. And she was supposed to stand out?

Donovan took two flutes of champagne and handed one to P.J. As he lifted one to his
lips, he murmured to her.

“Okay, see the man on your far left? No, don’t look. Gradually scan. He’s in a group.
Can’t miss him. Tall blond. Laughs really loud. Likes to be the center of attention.
Women surround him because they know he has money and power. They have no idea of
his perversions or they’d run like hell.”

A shiver raced down her spine.

Great.

She casually scanned the room until she found the man Donovan was referring to. Definitely
couldn’t miss him. The boom of his laughter was loud even over the rest of the two
hundred plus people gathered.

“That’s Brumley, and he’s a man to avoid. Under no circumstances do you want to gain
his notice. Nelson is across the room and is currently alone. He’s surveying the crowd
and, if I had to guess, looking to score. See him standing by the window? Shorter,
stocky guy. Muscled, but he’s not one of Brumley’s bodyguards or he’d be hanging a
hell of a lot closer to Brumley. He’s Brumley’s damage control. He’s the guy Brumley
sends to clean up his messes. Dark hair. Mustache. Fake tan.”

“Yeah, I see him,” she murmured, her lips barely moving.

“Now would be a very good time for you to make a pass by him. The ladies’ room is
beyond him so it’s the perfect opportunity for you to walk by and it’s likely why
he’s taken position there, because he knows he’ll see the majority of the women at
some point on their way to the powder room. Go reapply some lipstick and make eye
contact on your way by. Give him a once-over, just enough to make him think you might
be interested, but be subtle and don’t tip your hand too early.”

“Why Van, you sound like such an expert,” she said mockingly. “However are you still
single?”

“Smart-ass,” he muttered.

She took a deep breath. “Okay, here I go.”

“You’ll be fine,” he reassured. “We’ve all got your back.”

She clutched the beaded handbag, wishing desperately it was the stock of a loaded
pistol, and walked as gracefully as she was capable across the room.

As soon as she approached she could feel Nelson’s gaze on her, all but peeling off
her dress. She felt violated before she got within ten feet, just from the intensity
of that lustful stare.

Even though Donovan had told her to make eye contact and to make that first move,
her gut told her that obliviousness would serve her better. This was a guy who didn’t
like not to be noticed. He was someone used to garnering attention. He probably had
any number of women clinging to him at any given time if for nothing else than his
connection to Brumley.

She unzipped her bag and pretended to focus her concentration on finding the lipstick
as she drew even with Nelson. As soon as she passed, she relaxed but could still feel
the weight of his stare boring into her back. He’d definitely noticed her.

It appeared as though Donovan’s intel was correct, because along with P.J. there had
been two blondes and a stunning redhead walking in the direction of the ladies’ room,
but Nelson had zeroed in on her.

She positioned herself in front of the mirror and forced herself to calm the jitters.
She was a professional, with a hand as steady under pressure as they came. She always
made her shot. No sweating. No panicking.

This girl stuff was more terrifying than an entire company of gun-wielding terrorists,
though.

She made a show of touching up her lipstick, made sure it was nice and shiny, and
then after she rubbed her lips together, she slid the tube back into her clutch and
squared her shoulders, ready to exit.

To her utter surprise, she nearly ran headlong into Nelson as she left the ladies’
room. She stumbled back and her hand flew to the wall to regain her balance.

He grasped her arm and she managed a weak smile. “Thank you. You frightened me.”

“You are American,” he said in a heavily accented voice. A voice that was heavy with
approval. His eyes gleamed, and she could almost see him rubbing his hands together
like she was some choice steak he was about to devour.

“Y-yes,” she stammered out.

She had no basis for her assumptions, but with the predilection for young girls his
boss had, and that he likely had as well, she imagined him going for young and innocent.
Even when he went for legal-aged women.

She stared up at him wide-eyed and nervous, and even as she did, his arm came around
her protectively as he herded her back toward the ballroom.

They paused a moment as he collected drinks for them both. While she stood there,
Nelson looked across the room. She followed his gaze to find Brumley staring intently
at both of them. If Nelson’s earlier frank assessment had made her uncomfortable,
then Brumley’s very blunt gaze made her feel naked in a room full of strangers. Then
his eyes gleamed and he gave Nelson a short nod that made P.J. grow cold.

Nelson didn’t give her time to ponder the meaning behind Brumley’s acknowledgment.
He urged her toward the patio doors and then out onto the terrace. The night air was
chilly on her bare arms and legs. It was an excuse for him to get even closer to her,
and he took it, wrapping a beefy arm around her, all but hauling her up to his side.

She positively itched to knee him in the balls and then kick his ass on the spot,
but she managed to control those urges and instead glance shyly up at him.

“What’s an American girl like you doing here?” he demanded.

She raised an eyebrow. “Are Americans not welcome?”

He chuckled. “No, of course they are welcome.” He stared at her a long moment, obviously
studying her with avid curiosity. “You’re different from the other girls. The man
you came in with. You belong to him?”

“I don’t belong to anyone,” she said crisply. “I met him outside. I heard about the
party and that it was a swanky affair. Thought it would be fun to crash. There were
other women picking up dates at the gate.” She shrugged. “I figured why not? I made
him look good coming in and now I’m free to mingle, eat good food and have as much
as I want to drink.”

“You even sound American,” Nelson said with a chuckle. “So independent. I like American
girls. They have fire.”

* * *

“DAMN,
she even has me convinced,” Dolphin muttered.

The rest of the team had gathered outside a bar just half a block from the house where
the party was being hosted. They were dressed casually. Like a group of guys out for
a good time.

“She’s good,” Renshaw said. “Thinks quick on her feet. Smart girl.”

Steele held up his hand as the conversation between P.J. and Nelson resumed. Cole
stood in the dark, hands shoved into his pockets as he listened in disgust while the
creep came on to her with all the finesse of a rutting bull.

P.J. said and did all the appropriate things. She was believably hesitant and she
sounded shy at his forceful proposition.

Nelson turned cajoling, seemingly more excited the more reluctant P.J. came across.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they came to an agreement that they would
travel back to her hotel room.

“On my way out,” Donovan said in a low voice they could hear from the transmitter
he carried. “I’m giving them a head start, so you’ll see them first. Tag them and
make damn sure you keep on her tail. I don’t want anything going wrong.”

Cole swiveled sharply, looking for them to make their appearance.

“He’s taking her out the back. He likely has a car parked behind the house,” Donovan
reported.

Cole started to clench his first, and as if sensing his agitation, Steele focused
on him. “Stand down. We know where they’re going. We have her on GPS. Get in your
vehicles and make the block.”

The others quickly spread out, fading into the evening crowds on the street as they
went to their parked vehicles.

“I’ve got a visual,” Donovan said over the wire.

“I wish she wasn’t so damn quiet,” Cole muttered to Dolphin, who was paired with him.

They slid into the BMW and Cole immediately pulled into traffic, looking for Donovan’s
car.

He executed a left turn and spotted Donovan’s vehicle just ahead. Some of the tension
left him. The hotel was at least a twenty-minute drive across town depending on traffic.
Cole wanted to be there yesterday, because he damn sure didn’t want P.J. alone with
this asshole any longer than necessary.

As soon as she got him to talk, Cole was pulling the plug on this and he didn’t give
a fuck what Donovan or Steele had to say on the matter.

Ahead, traffic slowed and flashing lights illuminated the area. Cole slammed on the
brakes and then pounded a frustrated hand on the steering wheel.

“Are they still talking?” he demanded. “Are they caught in this snarl too or are they
still heading to the hotel?”

His pulse was racing too hard to get a handle on what was coming through his earpiece.
They were all wearing a receiver so they all could hear what transpired with P.J.

“Calm down. They aren’t saying much. Oh wait, okay, yeah, they must be ahead of it.
P.J.’s doing good. She’s keeping us posted on her whereabouts without being obvious.
Sounds like they’re just pulling into the hotel.”

“Son of a bitch,” Cole fumed. “Do your magic on this fucking GPS and find us a way
around this goddamn traffic. I’m not leaving her alone with that slimy little bastard.”

“Relax, Cole. Our P.J. can take out one guy with her hands tied behind her back. She’s
a badass.”

“He’s a hell of a lot bigger than her and he’s trained too,” Cole said gruffly.

“Yeah, well my money’s still on our girl. Okay, make a U-turn and then take the next
side street to the right. We can circle around by detouring four blocks. Will take
a few extra minutes but we should be through.”

Cole and Dolphin both strained to hear the conversation between P.J. and Nelson. It
was obvious that she’d just let him into her room, and Cole was growing more nervous
by the minute.

“I have a better idea,” Nelson said smoothly. “I have a house not far from here. Every
kind of wine you can imagine plus whatever your heart desires to eat.”

“I’m more interested in something a little stronger,” P.J. said coolly.

“Thata girl,” Dolphin said approvingly. “Keep him there and keep him talking.”

“Name your poison,” Nelson said in an amused tone. He was likely thinking that a nice,
young American girl had no chance of ever standing up after a few shots.

“Tequila, and I just happen to have a bottle in the liquor cabinet. This hotel is
remarkably well stocked. Shall we have a drink to get . . . comfortable?”

“Damn she sounds sexy,” Dolphin said as they flew down the city streets.

“Shut the fuck up,” Cole growled.

Things went completely silent. Cole tapped his earpiece. “Hey, are you hearing anything,
Dolphin? Things have gone too quiet.”