The Spy Is Cast Page 9

  Finally, I looked up with a sigh, rubbing the back of my aching neck. “That’s all I can remember. Now I need to sketch out the server room and security monitoring centre.”

  Kane looked over my annotations. “This is excellent. You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

  I nodded absently, blocking in the layout of the server room on a separate piece of paper. Kane’s quiet immobility made me glance up to meet his intent gaze. Realizing what he’d really been asking, I backtracked hurriedly. “I used to do tons of site measures when I was drafting. After a while, observing this kind of detail just becomes second nature.”

  He nodded slowly. “Just a civilian.”

  “Yep. Well, and it didn’t hurt that Harchman apparently thinks with his dick. And he’s sadly under-endowed. He walked me right into the server room.”

  Kane frowned. “Why would he do that? Fuzzy Bunny runs a tight ship. They’re not known for working with stupid people. That’s why they’re so successful.”

  “No idea. Maybe it’s not Fuzzy Bunny’s network at all. But look at this.” I showed him my sketches. “The server room is biometrically keyed to his thumbprint. Here’s the entire security console layout. Oh, and he runs guards and dogs through that forested area that surrounds the grounds.”

  I grimaced and added, “Too bad you can’t get fingerprints from fabric. You could march right through the security scanner into the server room if you could lift some of the many full sets of prints he left on my ass.”

  Kane’s face darkened. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  “No worries,” I assured him. “A bit of groping doesn’t upset me much anymore. In fact, it was a hell of a relief once I figured out that’s all he was after.”

  His brows drew together in comprehension. “I guess it would be, under the circumstances.”

  I frowned down at the plans again. “Let me walk you through this so we can call it a night. I want to get these damn clothes and fake nails and makeup off. And you must still be seriously jet-lagged.”

  We went over the plans, and Kane asked detailed questions that helped jog my memory. By the time we were finished, he’d managed to get more information out of me than I even knew I’d observed. Finally, he straightened with a grunt, massaging his forehead. “Okay. I think I’ve got the full picture now. Time to quit.”

  I glanced at my watch. “Yikes, it’s after two.” I studied his exhausted face, the lines carved deep again by fatigue. “Where’s the phone book? I’ll just call a cab so you can go straight to bed.”

  He shook his head. “No, I’ll take you back to the hotel. When you’re doing undercover work, it’s the details that count.”

  “I don’t see that it makes much difference. So maybe the date didn’t go well. We had a fight and I took a cab home.”

  “Remember how I said earlier I was secure in my manhood?” He gave me a tired grin. “I do have some pride. My ego would appreciate it if you would at least pretend the date went well.”

  I laughed. “Okay, Stud, take me home.”

  Chapter 13

  As we got settled in the car again, Kane glanced over at me. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention that you know where I live.”

  “Okay,” I agreed slowly. “Is that because you don’t want anybody to know where you live, or because you don’t want anybody to know that I know where you live?”

  He paused, apparently unravelling my convoluted question. “Both, actually.”

  “Does this fall into the category of ‘Don’t mention it unless asked directly’, or the category of ‘Actively lie about it’?”

  “Depends who’s asking.”

  I frowned at him. “If you’re going to rely on my judgement, I need more information.”

  He blew out a breath. “I don’t give out my address on general principles. Even my team doesn’t know where I live. Not that they couldn’t find out, or that I’d object to them knowing, just that it hasn’t come up. Need-to-know. There are a couple of reasons for that.”

  He stopped the car at a red light and eyed me seriously. “First, you can’t tell what you don’t know. For example, if I got captured, I don’t know where my team members live, or much about their personal lives at all. No matter what inducements my captors might use, I wouldn’t be able to give out that information.”

  The light changed and he accelerated smoothly again, his gaze focused straight ahead. “Second, I have enemies. Anybody who has close contact with me could be endangered if one of those enemies decides to get to me through somebody I care about. By association, if you know where I live, then that could make you a target.”

  “Oh.” I thought that through to its logical conclusion and wasn’t quite sure how to react.

  He scowled, and the leather steering wheel creaked slightly under his grip. “That’s why I was so reluctant to use this cover. We were seen being publicly affectionate. If the wrong people saw us, that could put you in danger.”

  “Oh well, every relationship comes with some baggage. Torture, death, you know. The usual,” I joked.

  “Not funny.”

  “Tough audience.” When he didn’t smile, I went on, “Anyway, it’s a little late to worry about it at this stage. Getting back to the original question, then, I’m thinking the answer is, don’t mention it to the good guys unless necessary, and lie to the bad guys. Does anybody else know where you live?”

  He kept his eyes on the road. “You. Arnie. My dad.”

  Wow, short list. He and Arnie had been friends all their lives. His dad, well, duh. Me? I pondered that for a second before deciding I probably fell into the category of team member, need-to-know. I changed the subject. “Your dad’s still living?”

  He grinned. “Old drill sergeants never die.”

  “You’re lucky.”

  “I know.”

  When we pulled up at the hotel, I sighed at the shoes and stockings. “I should never have taken these off.” I squirmed around in the slippery leather seat, pulling the stockings back on. The skirt slithered lasciviously around my thighs.

  In my peripheral vision, I caught Kane eyeing my legs. I figured the chances of getting any action with him tonight were slim to none, but that didn’t seem to discourage my body any.

  What the hell. Acting oblivious, I let the skirt slide up a little farther while I finished putting on my shoes. I picked up my purse and was reaching for the door handle when his hand closed around mine.

  “Wait.”

  I took stock of his half-smile in the dimness, feeling hopeful. “What?”

  He gently slipped the rings off my finger and dropped them into his pocket. “We weren’t wearing these when we left the hotel.”

  I gave him a half-smile of my own. “Details.”

  He nodded. “I’ll come around and get the door for you.” He got out, and I yanked the skirt down one more time while I waited.

  I managed a relatively graceful exit from the car. There wasn’t much of an audience at two-thirty in the morning, but if Kane thought it was important to keep up appearances, I’d do my part.

  We strolled into the hotel lobby, his arm lightly around my waist. I did my best to match his manner of warm interest. Coming home from a nice date, but nothing more. Shit.

  We rode the elevator and walked down the hall to my room in silence, and I fumbled the key card out of my purse and turned to wish him a good night. A shock of heat rolled through me when he smiled and gently tugged the card out of my grasp, sliding his arms around me to pull me into a slow kiss. Still kissing me, he slid the card into the slot and backed me into the room, letting the door swing shut behind us.

  As soon as the latch clicked, he stepped away.

  Goddammit!

  Using all my control, I kept my expression neutral while I surveyed him, internally debating the idea of pulling him into a hot kiss. That’s all it had taken in March. My comment about banging him up against the wall hadn’t been idle fantasy. If we’d had just a bit mor
e time back then…

  Trouble was, we were working together. I knew how seriously he took duty. And I really wasn’t in the mood to deal graciously with rejection tonight.

  “The necklace,” he said.

  “Huh?” Oh, eloquent me.

  “I need to take the necklace with me now, but you had to be seen wearing it up to your room because you were wearing it when we left.”

  I shook my head slowly. “How the hell do you manage to keep all that straight in your mind?”

  He gave me a wry look. “Let’s just say I’m highly motivated.”

  I undid the necklace and laid it into the box that he held out. “Me, too, but I would have missed that one.”

  “That’s why we’re a team.”

  “I guess.”

  He took my hand and squeezed it gently. “Aydan, you were amazing tonight. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner.”

  I felt my face heat up. Among other things. “Thanks.”

  He released my hand and reached for the door handle. “Oh, and thanks for the dance lesson,” I added.

  He smiled. “You’re welcome. Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  I stood there for a few seconds after the door closed behind him, and then stomped over and punched the hell out of my pillow.

  Chapter 14

  I spent far too long removing the makeup and fake nails, and went to bed exhausted. Then I slept poorly and woke in the morning feeling edgy and irritable. My foul mood was compounded when I got out of the shower and realized I’d missed a call from Kane.

  His deep voice was still edged with fatigue in the voicemail recording, and I wondered if he’d slept any more or any better than I had. Probably. That wouldn’t take much.

  “Hi, Aydan. Thanks again for last night. I’m going to have to stay in town for a few days, so you might as well check out of the hotel this morning and head back on your own. Take care. Goodbye.”

  Miffed at the cryptic message, I scowled into the mirror. It wasn’t a pretty sight, and I growled and tried to rub the frown lines out of my forehead.

  Thanks for risking your life, getting mauled by a fucking pervert, having red-hot spikes hammered through your brain multiple times, and dressing up to make small talk with a bunch of strangers. And NOT getting laid. The most annoying part was I knew I had no reason to be ticked off. He’d said thank you. He couldn’t say anything more detailed or informative on an unsecured line.

  I swore savagely at my reflection, and then did my best to put on an innocuous expression while I dragged down to the restaurant for breakfast. I was beginning to feel human about half-way through my Eggs Benedict when my phone vibrated. I pulled it out quickly and scanned the display.

  Shit.

  I pressed the Talk button. “Hi, Nichele.”

  “Aydan…?” Her voice was full of avid anticipation.

  “What?”

  “Well…? How did it go?”

  “It went. I told you, it was a business thing.”

  “I need details!”

  I sighed. “Nichele, I’m in the middle of breakfast. Can I call you later?”

  “No, but you can meet me for lunch at Kelly’s.”

  There was no way I was going to get out of this. Might as well get it over with.

  “Okay. Make it one o’clock, though. That’ll give me time to work out this morning.”

  Silence on the line. “You’re working out? Girl, you mean you didn’t get lucky with that hot hunk of man last night?”

  The reply that sprang immediately to my tongue would have offended even Nichele. I bit it back with an effort. “No.”

  “What happened?”

  “I told you, it was just a business thing. We’ll talk later, okay? My Eggs Benny is getting cold.”

  “Oh, so that’s what you’re calling it now,” she teased.

  “Shut up.”

  She laughed. “See you later. Bye-bye.”

  I disconnected and glowered at the phone for a few seconds. It didn’t help. I rubbed the wrinkles out of my forehead again and went back to my congealing breakfast.

  When I returned to my room to pack up, I was slightly cheered by the sight of the elegant dress hanging undamaged in the closet. I couldn’t believe I’d actually managed to wear it for an entire evening without wrecking it. Maybe my run of wardrobe misfortune had finally ended.

  There was no room in my small backpack for my new purchases, so I carefully folded the dress and tucked it into a shopping bag along with the new shoes, purse, and makeup. I made sure that neither the purse nor the shoes had any rough edges that could snag it. Despite my notorious aversion to dressing up, I really did like that dress.

  My mood improved further at the gym. I pushed hard, putting on some extra weight for my strength routines and turning up the resistance for my cardio. By the time I was finished, I was drenched in sweat and my muscles were warm and relaxed. It was no substitute for the activity I really had in mind, but at least it took the edge off.

  I showered and changed before heading over to Kelly’s to wait for Nichele. When I strolled in, the shabby decor and low-key atmosphere wrapped around me like a hug from an old friend. Sunday was classic rock day, and Bob Seger was singing ‘Roll Me Away’ in the background. I headed for the back of the bar, smiling.

  The waitress stopped in her tracks. “Hey, it’s not Saturday!”

  “Hey, Alanna! You knew I’d moved, right? I’m just down for the weekend.”

  “Corona?”

  I sighed. “No, just a glass of water. I’m driving.”

  She nodded understanding. “There was a guy sitting on your usual couch, but he just left. Go ahead and grab it and I’ll come and clear the table for you.”

  “Thanks!” I made my way to the back of the room and flopped into one of the broken-down couches, my back to the wall. I scanned the bar out of habit, but didn’t see anyone I knew.

  I glanced up at Alanna as she returned. “I’m going to have chicken wings, so I’ll just go and wash my hands. If Nichele shows up, tell her I’m here, okay?”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  As I turned the corner of the hallway to the washrooms, I glimpsed the rear view of a burly man in jeans, boots, and black leather striding toward the back exit. ‘Hellhound’ was blazoned across the back of his jacket, surmounting a picture of a toothy black beast, drool dripping from its jaws, its red eyes glaring.

  I stopped so suddenly my running shoe squeaked on the tile floor. The owner of the jacket immediately glanced behind him at the sound. He did an incredulous double-take and turned slowly. A wicked smile gleamed under his grizzled moustache.

  “Well, hell-lo, pretty lady,” he rasped, advancing on me as he shrugged off his jacket.

  His faded Harley-Davidson T-shirt stretched tightly across his powerful chest. Its torn-out sleeves showed off the bulging muscles of his tattooed arms and shoulders. I took a deep, shaky breath and involuntarily stepped backward. “H-Hi.”

  My back bumped against one of the columns that lined the hallway, and he stepped closer to leer down at me from well inside my personal space.

  He indicated the post behind me with a jerk of his bearded chin. “Gonna do a little pole dance for me, darlin’?” He licked his lips slowly, his gaze stroking down my body.

  I let out a breathless laugh. “Sorry, not my kind of pole.”

  He planted his hands on the wall on each side of my shoulders. Inches away, his body radiated heat. His voice dropped to a deep, intimate growl. “I got the perfect pole for ya to dance with, darlin’. An’ I know just how good you’re gonna look slidin’ up an’ down on it.”

  I swallowed hard and my knees threatened to give way. His hot eyes were locked on mine, his lips very close.

  “Aydan?” Nichele stood uncertainly at the end of the hallway. “Is… everything okay?”

  My intellectual processes gradually rebooted and I blinked wordlessly for a moment while I tried to remember the English language. Then
I ducked out from under Hellhound’s arm.

  “Hi, Nichele. Everything’s fine. I’d like to you meet Arnie Helmand. Arnie, this is Nichele Brown.”

  Hellhound straightened and gave Nichele a friendly nod. Nichele eyed his tattoos, ugly face, and lurid jacket doubtfully. “I’ll just wait at the table.” She retreated.

  I turned slowly back to Arnie. “Long time no see.”

  “Yeah, how ya been, darlin’?”

  I knew it wasn’t just casual small talk, so I answered the real question. “I’m really good, now.”

  He relaxed into a teasing smile. “Ya were really good before.” Then he sobered. “I didn’t hear from ya.” It was a question, not an accusation.

  “No. I wanted some time. I was feeling needy. You know how I feel about getting attached. Needy is a bad place to start.”

  “Darlin’, you’re about as far from needy as anybody could get.”

  “And that’s the way I like it. Funny, though, I was just thinking of calling you this morning.”

  “Next time, do it. Don’t just think about it.”

  “It was three-thirty in the morning.”

  He grinned and bounced his eyebrows at me. “Even better.”

  I patted his flat, hard stomach where the incipient beer gut used to be. “You look so hot, I nearly passed out! What happened to the Molson muscle? And you trimmed your beard, too!”

  Instead of the wild tangle he’d sported in March, his salt-and-pepper beard and moustache were closely cropped, emphasizing a chiselled jaw I hadn’t known he possessed. With that and the new bulk and definition in his arms and chest, he exuded raw masculinity.

  Nobody would ever call him handsome. Hell, it’d be a long stretch to call him tolerably homely. But he was definitely sexy. Maybe it was the muscles and boots and black leather. Or maybe it was because I knew exactly how good a pole dance with him really was.

  His face lit up. “Ya like?”

  “Hell, yeah! What happened?”

  “I always keep the facial fungus a little shorter in summer. An’ I told ya I was gonna start a fitness program.”

  “Yeah, but, wow! I thought you were kidding.”