Agent of Desire (Jessica Booker) (10 page)

I take in the surroundings. Several naked light bulbs hang from the ceiling, throwing harsh light on our surroundings. The place is made of dirty concrete. We are locked in a fenced-in area
the size of a small room. The ceilings are high, and there are several other cages in the same room. All open and empty. It’s probably a storage facility in an old warehouse.

“What happened?” I sit up. My shirt is covered in blood, but someone has tied a rag around my arm and the bleeding appears to have slowed.

“They shot you,” he says.

“
Yeah, but did I pass out?”

He shakes his head. “No, you were hit on the head with the butt of a gun.”

I reach back with my good arm to touch my head. Sure enough, there is a huge bump there. That explains the headache. But it also means they need me alive. Which irritates me. If I’d known that, I would have fought even harder. But I don’t understand why they want me alive.

Until I look over at Geoffrey and see the fear in his eyes. They’re going to use me to get what they want from him. He scoots toward me and cups my face in his hands. “I’m so sorry, Lori. I don’t know what to do. I didn’t think it would come to this.” His eyes are red. He
looks exhausted.

“Why are you sorry?” I ask. “I’m the one who was supposed to be protecting you. I fell down on the job.”
Literally
.

He moves to put his arms around me, and I let him. He traces his hand gently along the side of my face, brushing my hair back. It’s warming, soothing.

“I should have told you sooner,” Geoffrey says, pulling me out of my fog. “I can’t watch them hurt you anymore. You’ve already been shot. I’ll make them let you go and then give them what they want.”

“But they’re looking for the information inside those boxes you made to hold NATO’s military secrets. We know they don’t have one. You can’t give them access to something they don’t have.”

He nuzzles his face in my hair. His hot breath warms my ear as he whispers, “I have what they need.”

“Huh?” I ask, not able to process what he just said.

“They don’t need the box. All they need is a secure internet connection…and
me
.”

Geoffrey goes on to explain how NATO initially came to him to make the secure boxes because of his vast knowledge and ability in cyber warfare. “They wanted something that couldn’t be hacked by anyone. I rose to the challenge and created their uncrackable boxes. But I thought it would add to the challenge if I was able to install a backdoor without anyone knowing. Something I could use to get into the devices, and poke around. It wasn’t supposed to be used for anything. It was just my stupid curiosity. I wanted to see if I could do it. And I did.”

“How? Didn’t they have their tech guys watching you? Didn’t they double-check your work?”

“Yes, that’s what made it such a great challenge. I handmade a small modem that not only looked like another memory stick, it acted like one when tested by their techies. I can turn it on remotely. I’ve never tried it. I don’t care about the information in there—I just wanted to know if it could be done. And it can. I did it. I don’t know how they found out, but they know.”

I should be pissed at him for not telling me sooner. But I would have held out, too.

Trust no one.

Crap.

“I’m sorry. Just tell me what to do to fix this,” he says into my hair. He kisses the top of my head, which doesn’t help me think at all. It pushes the stress away, relaxing me.

He pulls his head back to look at me. Our faces are only an inch apart. “I’m sorry I was cold to you. I’m sorry I lied. I’m sorry I did this. I—”

I lean forward and close the distance, kissing him. I don’t want him to blame himself. I just want him to feel good. Kissing him is the only way I know how. He kisses back, brushing his lips against mine.
When he pulls me close, his hand presses against my bandaged arm making me cry out in pain, causing him to pull away.

A door opens down the hall and we both turn to see who’s coming. “No fair. Torturing her was my job,” Sims shouts as he walks toward the door of our cage, flanked by two gunmen.

I turn to Geoffrey as Sims gets closer. “Whatever they do, do not give them what they want,” I whisper. “I can handle pain. I’ve trained for it. I will get us out of this.” I look into his eyes as I let myself out of his arms. If there is any chance of us escaping, we will need to be ready.

Sims unlocks the cage and walks in confidently. The other men wait outside, guns pointed at us. Sims comes within a foot of me and squats down.

If it were anyone else, I would have grabbed him and used him as a shield as I fought my way out, but Sims was my trainer. No matter how good I am—and I’m
really
good—he’s better. He knows it, and is flaunting it by getting so close to me.

“E for effort,” Sims says, smirking at me.

The spy game is pass-fail. There is no E for effort. Fucker. I can’t believe I slept with him.

“I hear you sent one of my guys to the hospital. Too bad I know you. I know what you’re capable of.” His eyes slowly and deliberately scan my body. There is nothing subtle about the way they devour me. “That’s why I sent three guys to take care of you.”

Geoffrey tenses. I know what he’s going to do before he does, but my lame arm prevents me from stopping him in time. He lunges at Sims, who also sees him coming a mile away. Sims throws him on the ground with one arm, hardly moving the rest of his body.

“Let him go!” I shout.

Sims laughs. “Take him to the room,” he barks to the gunmen just outside the gate.

“Don’t you dare hurt him,” I say. I never thought I would be saying these words with such feeling, but I really think if they hurt Geoffrey, I may kick the living shit out of Sims. Or die trying.

“You did a better job than I thought,” Sims says once Geoffrey has left with the gunmen. “I knew you could do it—make him fall for you. But you’ve done such a good job that you’ve even convinced yourself you like him.”

I glare at him, hating the fact that what he
’s saying might be true.

“I handpicked you because I knew you would be just his type
—a tough girl who only needs to find the right guy.”

I glare some more.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, Jessica. You’re a new agent; you don’t have enough field experience to have figured any of this out in time to change anything. We’ve been playing you all along. The other “agent” at Intelex. The farmhouse in the country. We’ve had eyes on you the whole time. Just waiting for Geoffrey to reach the tipping point. The point where he would do anything for you.”

My fist flies towards his face before I’ve consciously registered how badly I want to hit him. Still, Sims dodges my swing, chuckling at my failed attempt.

“Now, let’s give him a good show, shall we?” He raises his eyebrows, and that’s when I know that what he’s going to do next will be no show.

He grabs my hands, and I have no chance. Still, I fight against him as he throws me on my stomach, twisting my good arm behind my back. He grabs my injured arm, places his thumb on the center of the wound, and presses hard.

I don’t want to scream. I can withstand a lot of pain, but this…I can’t control myself. The pain shoots through me like hellfire. I cry out.

This is the “show” he’s putting on for Geoffrey. He must be right outside—somewhere he can hear me.

“You cry easier than I thought you would. Don’t they train you to turn that shit off anymore? Young agents.” He shakes his head and jabs his thumb in again, making me shriek.

I know what he’s doing. He’s trying to deflate my ego, calling me a newbie and telling me how badly I’m failing. I tell myself it’s not working, but it’s Sims—he was my teacher. And what he’s saying
is
true. I have failed. I did exactly what he wanted me to do, making Geoffrey fall for me, and then bumbling out over the countryside, thinking we were on the run. And now I’m failing worse by not being able to shut out the pain.

He jabs his thumb in one more time, and I cry out until he releases my arm and stands up. I lay facedown on the floor, deflated, not caring enough to move.

“Thanks for playing,” he says and walks out of cage, locking the gate behind him.

He’s playing me
, I think as I lie there unmoving on the floor.
Asshole
.

He’s winning
.

Something stirs inside me.
That means I’m losing.

I hate losing.

The game isn’t over until you’re dead.

When they bring Geoffrey back, I’m lying on the floor staring at the ceiling. I’ve been alone for a while—well, mostly alone. They have a man posted down at the end of the hall with a gun. But I’ve been ignoring him, puzzling, obsessing over one thing. How did they find us? What was I missing?

They put Geoffrey back in the cage and he sits down next to me, pulling me into his arms. “Lori,” he says. His eyes are desperate. He looks down at me through his cute nerdy glasses…

Of course
. I struggle to keep a straight face as I berate myself.

The glasses he’s wearing, they’re not his. They’re the ones I swapped out several days ago. Sims was right. They’ve known where we were the whole time because they have seen everything that Geoffrey has seen over the past several days.

Dammit!

“Are you okay?” he says.

I nod, and let a tear escape my eye. It’s too bad I won’t be able to tell him what I’m doing. But maybe it will work better if he doesn’t know. I lean into his chest and grab my wounded arm.

Don’t overdo it.

I nod. “I’m sorry, I’ll be okay. I must be tired.”

“I did like you said,” he whispers. “I gave them something, but it’s not what they’re looking for. It should keep them busy for a few hours, though.”

He looks proud. I’m proud of him, but I’m also trying to keep a straight face. I’m sure they’re still looking at the camera feed from his glasses, and I am also sure that they heard him say he sent them on a wild goose chase. Which means they will be back any second to get him.

“It’s okay,” he says, and runs his hand along my cheek. The warmth I feel from his touch is real. He leans in and kisses me gently on the lips. I want badly to wrap my arms around him and kiss him back, but I have to hold myself in check. They have to believe some part of me has given up.

“They’re going to kill us, aren’t they?” he asks. “Once they have what they want.”

I don’t answer, because I don’t have to. He already knows.

His arms slide around my back and he holds me close, like he might be able to shield me from what’s coming.

The door at the end of the hall opens, and footsteps come toward us. I lose myself in one more kiss before they pull him off me and take him away.

I lay on my back on the floor, clutching my arm. The wound has stopped bleeding. I might die from infection if I don’t get to the hospital eventually, but that’s the only way this bullet wound could kill me. The pain is down to a dull ache.

I don’t want the guard to know that, though. There is only one of them in the hallway, down at the end by the door. I can see him out of the corner of my eye through the fence. He’s looking at me. I roll over toward him. The v-neck shirt I’m wearing already shows cleavage, but I snake my body, curving my back to accentuate my ass and my bust.

I’m sexy and injured, an easy target.

This game would never work if he were an agent. He would have figured me out right away. Even if he didn’t it would be a dangerous game, because he might be able to overpower me. I might not be in a lot of pain, but I still don’t have use of my left arm. My bicep is trashed.

But this guy is one of the ones who came for us at the hotel. He’s just a hired meathead. I saw the way they crashed into the hotel
room, guns out. No agent would do anything that stupid. If I’d been armed, they’d all be dead.

This idiot was definitely my best chance.

I moan.
Sexy, helpless, injured and moaning
.

He wastes no time coming over to the cage. “You need some help in there?” he asks.

I turn away from him, but not before sobbing a little.

The key is in the lock. I can hear him fumble with it before it clicks open. The gate squeaks. I don’t turn. His footsteps approach. I can tell he wants to let his guard down. He squats and puts one of his hands on my hip, sliding it back so that he can cup my ass. I don’t turn.

He pulls me over on my back, looking at my vacant face. He doesn’t even see my legs sweep up behind him. I wrap my feet around his neck and pull him back against the ground, hard and fast. There is a dull thud as his head hits the concrete. I sit up and relieve the pervert’s limp arms of his gun. There is nothing I hate more than a sexual predator.

I check his pulse. The scumbag will live.