The Game (Sex, Lies & Spies) Page 6

  He strolled down to the lower area of the lobby, taking his time looking through the gift shops and boutiques. It was good to be alone again. He wasn’t good with female company, never had been. The days with Zaleiha had taken a lot of patience. She had so much to learn about life outside a mountain village, and although she was a quick learner, he wasn’t cut out to be her tutor. What the hell was the Temple going to do with her? Undoubtedly, she had to fit somewhere in their maze of plans, or they wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of giving her a new identity.

  Seven years he’d been at this, and he had never even been close to actually stripping the veil of secrecy from the Temple. Everything was perfectly camouflaged, surrounded by layers of different dummy corporations. Hell, it was they who’d shown him how to start Knights Inc., an international import-export business specializing in antiques, even though he was nothing more than a glorified rogue treasure-hunter. He’d plunged into the strange world of finance, stolen artifacts, and government intrigue. The following years had made him very cynical about the power structures that held the world together—most of them, it seemed, controlled by a handful of men.

  On the outside, he was CEO of Knights, Inc., a businessman who dealt in war artifacts, someone who financed a number of archaeological digs around the world, a low-key figure who made his money selling treasures to a selected few who belonged to the elite of the world. On the inside, he was a double agent, for The Temple and for Uncle Sam. There was no easy way to describe what the Temple really was. Uncle Sam sure didn’t understand, but what Uncle Sam knew was that it was useful to have someone on the inside. The Temple negotiated for different groups of people who wanted to be anonymous, sometimes for treasure, sometimes for people, sometimes for politics. And the United States government was interested to know the details, or as much information as John Dallas, ex-military, ex-CIA man, supplied them with. They’d contacted him asking for the favor ever since they’d found out where he was working, using his long time friends to curry favors.

  Ex-CIA. No such thing.

  He’d discovered that one was never truly retired from covert work. Call it the seven-year itch but he’d been getting restless lately. The Temple, in the beginning, was a challenge, a personal Mount Everest. Like the mountain, operatives had been sent up and defeated. However, nobody had been in there as long as he had—the former military man with an interest in treasure-hunting. He’d introduced himself to them as a modern day Indiana Jones. Now, because of his success these past years, he was virtually autonomous in his dealings with them.

  In fact, John had more questions than Uncle Sam. Seven years, and all they’d ever contacted him about were weapons and people exchanges. Sure, the treasure quests were fun, but that wasn’t enough for him any more, but they’d only led to more questions. Why the interest in treasures? And why were some pieces so important? So, instead of keeping a low profile and simply following orders, he’d started to push a little more.

  Mount Everest wasn’t totally insurmountable. A few people had reached its peak. He just needed to make it his quest. At this point of the game, he didn’t really care what Uncle Sam wanted. He was in charge of a group of highly-trained soldiers-of-fortune. He’d even made his own fortune.

  What were they going to do, fire him?

  ***

  Kel heard the door to the suite open exactly one hour twenty-five minutes after John had left. She hadn’t been worried when he departed. John would be able to get out of any sensitive situation. Plus, she could tell from the evil gleam in his eye he liked having the upper hand again. Trying to keep herself occupied, she worked on some files at the laptop.

  She looked up from her work at the desk, pretending to be surprised. The evil gleam that shone in those black eyes always managed to give her a girlish shiver. He had a way of looking at her as if he were assessing every intimate secret in her mind. The dare-devil glint challenged her every female instinct to yield to him.

  She jutted her chin out as he approached. She wanted so much more from this man, but she wasn’t sure whether he was capable of giving it to her.

  “Worried about me?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of her.

  He was much too close. Whirling the chair from the desk, she tilted her head back and met those eyes again. Dark, devilish…and yes, desire was in there too. She remembered that look only too well.

  “Should I be?” she countered. “You’re probably just trying to get back at me for what happened in Pakistan.”

  “Damn straight.” He moved even nearer, still not touching her. “What was that all about Kel? Really kinky, but not really a reunion, surely.”

  “Wedding,” Kel reminded him.

  “Wedding, reunion, whatever you want to call it,” John said, his voice soft. “You know you didn’t have to knock me out.”

  “Would you have let me go off the next morning?”

  “You’ll never know now, will you?”

  He leaned forward, putting his hands on either arm of her chair, trapping her. His body heat surrounded her and she breathed in his masculine scent. Why was it that the mere mixture of body temperature and chemical essence could heighten all her senses? When he was near her like this, her sight, her sense of smell, her hearing—every part of her—was focused entirely on his being.

  “It wasn’t something I wanted to fight over,” she explained, her voice husky. “I had a limited amount of time to spend with you and you were going to ask too many questions.”

  “So you had your way with me and just left? Did you know we were going to meet again here, or were you going to wait another three years before contacting me?”

  The slight edge in his voice was the only thing that hinted at his mood. Everything else about him was very controlled, as if he had made up his mind not to lose his temper. Kel wouldn’t have expected any less from him; his skill at negotiations was legendary.

  And he was in full battle mode now, trying to find the chinks in her armor, looking for a way to invade. He was definitely not going to play hide and seek with her anymore. She had been prepared for this, yet she still felt the tiny flutters of nervousness in the pit of stomach. A big dose of John Dallas after years of starvation wasn’t easy on a woman’s peace of mind.

  “There was a chance that I would see you again,” Kel told him, deliberately needling him.

  She noted the slight narrowing of his dark eyes. “Anyhow, I knew you’d come after me sooner or later, whether it was after your next assignment, or the next, but you wouldn’t have left things as they were. As luck would have it, you were at the border, and easily available for this job in India.”

  “As were you,” John remarked in a dry voice, pointing out the convenience of it all. “And that tribal dude, Ahmin seems to know that as well.”

  She smiled at his sarcasm. He was mad because she was right. He would have gone after her, one way or another. “I knew you’d sacrifice something to come here; that was a given.” She had to tease him a little. “Of course, Ahmin would have made it.”

  “Who is he? I’m willing to bet he isn’t with that tribe all the time”

  She shook her head. “He’s part of a US covert group gathering up stolen weaponry. A useful source and a good ally.”

  Ahmin had had come to her aid several times already. It was easy to help him this time, getting Kaleiha out of that village.

  “Is he my back up, then?”

  She loved teasing him, getting his back up. “Well, there was a slight chance you wouldn’t make it. A big earthquake might somewhat delay you, for instance. Acts of God do sometimes interrupt our operations, you know.”

  “Or if I had quit.”

  Quit the Game? John? She raised an enquiring brow at the notion. “Sorry, that doesn’t compute since our last big quarrel had to do with your loving the game too much. I believe your words were ‘Can’t leave it, darling. Don’t make me choose between you and the Game right now.’ Remember?”

  That had hurt. And beca
use it hurt so much, she had pushed him, giving him an ultimatum.

  It might have been years but the pain of leaving him had stayed with her. What happened next had been an act of God. She had left him, thinking he would follow, and then—as the saying went—shit happened. The choices after that weren’t hers anymore.

  He studied her silently and she looked back at him, letting him draw his own conclusions.

  It wasn’t easy staying one step ahead of him, and she knew that everything she told him would be filed away for later use. John Dallas was a consummate analyst, a necessary trait in the art of negotiation.

  She had to be very careful with every revelation. What she needed to do, first of all, was to negotiate a truce of some sort. She had to be prepared for the barrage of questions coming her way. And, she admitted, with both trepidation and thrill, to be the target of some very intense attention.

  The thrill was easily explained. After all this time, John still made her weak all over. She was so attracted to him, she ached from wanting him. No, she didn’t need to hide how she felt about him; she couldn’t even if she wanted to. All he had to do was lean forward now and kiss her, and she would willingly wrap her legs around him. As she thought about this, he moved even closer, until her only choice was to look into his eyes. Her heartbeat thundered

  “Kiss me,” she whispered softly.

  “Not yet,” he told her, just as softly.

  “Why?”

  His breath was hot against her lips. “Because you keep asking me to remember this and remember that. I want you to remember something else.”

  “What’s that?” His proximity was driving her insane. She wanted to jerk him closer somehow, but felt paralyzed by the sensuality of his gaze.

  “I want you to remember that you asked me to give you more than you were willing to give me. I want you to feel this between us and realize you gave it up for ambition. You walked away from us because you couldn’t wait. You put distance between us because you were afraid.

  He couldn’t have been more wrong. Kel didn’t blink once through his accusations. Yet there was truth in his wrong conclusions. She forced a small smile.

  “How like a man to pick and choose what to remember and what to forget,” she mocked. “Was what I asked so much? And just because I took another position within the organization must mean I did so out of blind ambition and fear, of course. If it were a man you’d have said ‘Way to go! Go for it!’ You’re a male chauvinist pig, John Dallas! If I were a man…”

  “If you were a man, we wouldn’t have been lovers and you wouldn’t have given me an ultimatum!” John retorted.

  “If I were a man, we wouldn’t be married,” she finished.

  “If you were a man, we wouldn’t have been allowed to marry in front of an imam,” he told her, a small smile tugging his lips. “Now that we’ve established you aren’t a man, why don’t you tell me exactly why you married me and what is this game we’re playing? Because, you know, it’d help me to understand the situation a whole lot better. Let’s start with us.”

  “This is my final assignment,” Kel said, watching his face closely.

  “Your final assignment was…to marry me,” John said rhetorically, his tone of voice deceptively casual.

  Kel grinned. “No, my final assignment was to find the treasure that Dante wants. But marrying you was the opportunity to pull you close to me.”

  He studied her for a minute. “Not once in the last three years, Kel…” he began.

  Kel held up a silencing hand. She took a deep breath. Coming clean was more difficult than she’d imagined. The look in his eyes. The way his head cocked to one side when he was considering something serious. The scent of him being so near. Everything she’d ever wanted was standing in front of her. She couldn’t chance losing him. Rules be damned. This once, maybe love should rule her head, not the moves of the game.

  “Remember how you were to train me in all aspects of hostage negotiation and exchange?” she asked softly.

  The change of subject made him frown. “Yes.”

  “What did you think at that time?”

  He thought about it a moment. “That it was strange they chose me. Usually that falls into the hands of a few other Knights. And I was suspicious for a while because they told me you were to be a courier. I finally figured they didn’t actually mean a lowly pawn courier when you showed all the signs of having high clearance.”

  Kel nodded. “I’m going to show you something,” she said, “and I don’t want you to freak out. I just want you to hold on to your temper long enough to hear me out.”

  He cocked his head. “This sounds bad.”

  It could be, for her. In spite of herself, her training repeated the mantra of the game in her head. Risk. Options. Move. A strategic and safe advance. She mentally crossed her fingers as her hands reached up to the front of her shirt. His gaze caught hers then, turned watchful as she started to undo the buttons. His eyes widened and his breath caught when she lifted one side of the material.

  “What the hell….”

  He came closer and reached out. His hand touched her gently, his finger tracing the outline of her tattoo. He went down on his haunches to study it. He tilted his head and his eyes were very fierce.

  “Tatt…it’s a bird of some kind but its head…what the hell happened to you? Who shot you?”

  Kel smiled at the dark emotion in his gaze. “It’s shrapnel from an explosive. Someone tried to kill me but fortunately, I managed to get out before…. No, don’t say anything yet. You’re getting all demanding again and not paying attention. Look at the phoenix’s tail.”

  His mouth clamped shut into a grim line as he looked down again. She resisted running her fingers through his thick hair. His finger continued tracing her tattoo—not new any more, but new to him. She’d chosen this design because of what the phoenix represented. Rebirth. For her, a second chance.

  It was a beautiful tattoo. When it was healed, she’d looked at it constantly, touching the scar tissue and oddly finding comfort in it whenever she remembered her close call. She had gotten used to it now, barely noticing its presence when she wasn’t in front of a mirror.

  The phoenix head was deformed because even tattoo needles couldn’t hide the ugly scar, two inches across, almost quarter of an inch deep, marring her once smooth skin. The artist had wanted to design the tail over that area, but she’d insisted the head be placed there—a reminder, she’d told him, of the danger of fire and death, even in a rebirth—and after a dubious look, he’d complied with her wish.

  The tail flared out a gorgeous design of bold red, blue, green and purple. Hidden among the peacock-like feathers was a tiny crown of Celtic knots. It flowed with the intricate peacock design and only a practiced eye would see it. She heard another intake of breath from John and knew he’d discovered it.

  Again, his gaze lifted. Incredulity. Questions. He stood up and started pacing the room. She could tell he was busy trying to put two and two together.

  “The Queen is dying,” Kel continued. “Not immediately, but it’s a medical condition. I’m one of her possible…successors.”

  “When did you know this?” he asked quietly.

  “Not at first, when they were sending me all over the place to train, but I was suspicious I was being prepared. Then, while I was with you, I found out the truth when they confronted me about our involvement.” She sighed. Rebuttoning her shirt, she turned back to her desk. “Things happened all at once. We quarreled. Someone who was in the running tried to get rid of me with a bomb. And then, months of recuperation. In the end, they gave me an ultimatum. Exposing you of your double agency and getting you in trouble with your men or continuing my path.”

  John made a sound and she found herself swirled around by strong hands. His watchful expression had turned angry. “Why didn’t you just tell me? I waited for you to come back, Kel. A word, and I’d have been at your side.”

  She laid her hands on his chest. “I was inju
red,” she reminded him gently. “Shrapnel and a collapsed lung. I wasn’t in any shape to do anything. Except for one thing.”

  He shook her slightly. “You chose to protect me.”

  She nodded. “They had the advantage in that particular game. I couldn’t warn you or stop them from exposing you, so I chose to continue as understudy to successor. It was part of the deal. No communications. John, until confirmation that I made it as successor or not. And if I wasn’t chosen in the end, I wasn’t allowed to tell you what I’ve been doing either.”

  I was on the list to be in the top tier and it isn’t easy to quit them. Sure, I was ambitious, but you meant more to me, and even when I was weak as baby, I saw a way out. I would play a long game with them, with you as my winning piece.” She smiled at him. “I figured power would protect you. If I play their game and win, my wish is their command, and my wish is to keep you safe.”

  “I know now why you drugged me. You didn’t want me to see that tattoo.”

  She nodded. “It wasn’t the right time to answer your questions. I needed to get Leiha and the message out, prove to them I could do my job with you around me. It wouldn’t have been possible if you’d known the truth. It was a test for me.”

  He was silent for a long moment, his eyes searching hers. “True,” he finally admitted, “The orders to get married threw me. And then I saw you and knew you had something to do with it. I only went through it because it was you.”

  “We aren’t really legally married. It was just my way to tell you how committed I am to be with you. I can still say those magic words to free you.”

  “Three years, Kel. Three fucking long years.

  “I know.”

  “I can’t forgive that. Not yet.”

  “I know.”

  There was another short silence. “This last game. How does it figure into their plans for you?”

  “If we win, I’m free,” she told him. “We can be together and there won’t be repercussions. I’ve protected you all along, can’t you see? You think they don’t know you’re passing on information to the government? Don’t be naïve, John.”