Relentless (10 page)

“You bring the money?”

“Yes.” He swallowed past the knot in his throat. “It's in my pocket.”

“Get it.”

Ahmed reached in and pulled out the thick envelope of American hundred dollar bills, withdrawn from his account a half hour ago. Then he paused awkwardly.

“Don't move.”

He couldn't have even if he'd wanted to.

A shadow moved out of the tree line to his right. He squinted to make out the silhouette in the darkness. The man came out of the forest, dressed from head to toe in black with a knit toque covering his head. They were about the same height, but the other man was thinner and had a slighter build. He came within arm's reach and stopped. Ahmed couldn't tell what color the man's eyes were or what shade his skin was, but the lethal air he held was enough to make him glad there wasn't enough ambient light to see his face.

The man held out his gloved hand. Ahmed gingerly placed the envelope in it. The quiet between them was unnerving.

“Still just the one woman?” the assassin asked.

He fought back a cringe. “Yes.”

“I hear you've got more interesting targets lined up for Saturday afternoon.”

His muscles tensed. “Where did you— ”

“I'd be happy to take care of them for you for an additional charge.”

Having it spoken aloud and so callously made Ahmed's conscience prickle like he had stinging nettles buried in his soul. “I've already arranged something.” God, was that him saying those heinous words?

“Think your people will be able to take care of something like that without help?”

He nodded, afraid to go into details. The crew he'd assembled through his contacts were not professionals, but they were unknown to the police and thus had a better chance of infiltrating the wedding crowd. He'd been assured they could get the job done and it was too late to change things now. The planning was in its last stages and he couldn't undo what had already been done at this point. Not without raising suspicion.

“Well. You know how to reach me if you change your mind.”

A moment's doubt assailed him. This man was far better suited to carrying out the mission than the others. What if they didn't come through? What would Tehrazzi do then? He cleared his dry throat. “You'll contact me for the remainder after it's done?” he asked, referring to the balance of the payment owing.

“Yeah, don't worry,” he said with a mocking laugh. “I'll be in touch.” He stepped back.

After a few seconds Ahmed opened his mouth to call him back, but the man had already melted into the deep shadows of the forest. Too late. No going back now.

The return trip to the car seemed to take twice as long. The shadows were darker, the forest more ominous than before.

He was cold to his marrow, and not from the damp wind tugging at his clothes.

The knowledge of what was coming triggered a memory of when he'd almost drowned as a young boy. He'd swum out too far and the current had gripped him, pulling him helplessly along as the water closed in over his head.

Then as now, he'd gone too far to turn back. All he could do was let the current carry him away and hope someone would be there to fish him out of the water before he drowned.

Forcing a cheery whistle out of his mouth to stop the thoughts in his head, he retraced his steps to the parking lot and past the point of no return.

When the knock came, Neveah slipped her heels on. After checking the peephole, she opened the door for Rhys. Her heart gave a great thud as she took him in, all six-foot-six of him in a sapphire-colored dress shirt that intensified the blue of his eyes, and black dress pants that hugged his well-developed thighs. A black leather jacket clung to his broad shoulders.

Mouthwatering.

“Hi,” she managed, doing up the top button of her wool coat. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.” He seemed surprised to see her standing there.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I don't think I've ever gone to dinner with a woman who was on time. Or one tall enough to look me in the eye.”

She flashed him a saucy smile. “Ah, but I'm not like any other woman you've been out with before.”

One side of his mouth lifted in the semblance of a grin. “No, you're not.” He offered her his arm as she stepped into the hallway. “Shall we?”

Touched by the gallant gesture, she slid her hand into the crook of his elbow and it nestled tight against the swell of his biceps. The jacket's leather sleeve was smooth and supple beneath her palm. Oh my, the man had sexual charisma. In spades. Coming from any other man, his actions would seem like a calculated move to be smooth. Not with Rhys. He was a gentleman to his core, and that made his treatment of her even more special.

“Hope you're hungry,” he said as he escorted her into the elevator. “I asked around and this place is supposed to have the best Italian food in the city.”

“Can't wait.” She stole another glance at him as the elevator descended. “You clean up really nicely, by the way.”

His lips quirked. “Thanks. I don't know what you've got on underneath that coat, but I'm sure it's beautiful.”

She thought so. She'd specifically chosen to wear her take on the little black dress. Its super soft jersey knit felt like velvet against her skin, and it hugged every curve she had tightly enough that she couldn't wear panties. Besides her thigh-high fishnet stay-ups, she was bare-assed naked underneath the thing. She wondered what Rhys would think of that.

His expression remained neutral. She could never tell what he was thinking, and suspected he liked it that way.

He led her through the lobby toward the glass doors, her spike-heeled black shoes clicking against the marble floor. He'd left the Escalade parked out front at the curb, and he hit the remote starter before he escorted her through the hotel door. A gust of cold wind stole her breath. She wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck to keep out the draft while he opened the truck door and handed her up. Her cheeks flushed with a delighted blush and from the chilly air. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” he responded, shutting the door and rounding the hood to climb in behind the wheel. As he slid into the seat, she caught the delicious scents of leather and spice.

“Where's Ben tonight?” she asked, doing up her seatbelt and settling back into the cushy leather seat.

“At a hockey game with some of the guys.” He pulled away from the hotel and headed south on Burrard.

For no particular reason she was suddenly nervous enough to fill the silence with chatter. “Too bad Sam couldn't come here, but after all she went through, I can see why she'd just want some downtime.”

“She's been looking forward to planning the wedding details with our mom.”

Nev nodded. “Yes, and I'm glad she's got something happy to do for once.” She looked over at him, pretending she was unaffected by being this close to him. “She's asked me to be her maid of honor. I assume you'll be the best man?”

“Wouldn't miss it.”

“Well then I guess we'll be spending more time together next year.”

He glanced at her. “That's a good thing, right?”

“A very good thing.” She squirmed inside. Sometimes her direct speech put her at a distinct disadvantage. Rhys wasn't the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, and she had no idea what was going on in his head or if he even found her attractive. But he must at least like her enough, or he wouldn't have invited her to dinner, right?

“How's the conference going?”

The nerves eased with the change of subject. “Very well, thanks. People have been extremely helpful and supportive.” And she was glad to be able to spend time with her friend Mike. He felt comfortable around her, and they stayed together during all the functions in a kind of co-dependency that worked just fine for both of them. Misery loves company after all, Mike had said.

Nev sighed as the warmth from the seat heaters penetrated her coat. “To be honest, though, I was really glad you invited me out tonight because I needed a break. I was starting to feel like a bit of a curiosity to everyone.”
Step right up! See the woman who survived a kidnapping and brutal imprisonment by terrorists in northeastern Afghanistan.

“I was surprised to hear you'd taken something like this on so soon,” Rhys said.

She squeezed her hands together in her lap. “Well, I thought the best way to get over all that was to dive headfirst back into life.” Her nails dug into her damp palms. “And I wanted to do something to honor my colleagues that... died.”

Rhys shocked the hell out of her by reaching across the console and squeezing one of her hands. “You don't have to talk about it.”

But she did. She desperately needed to talk to someone about it who understood what she'd gone through. Nobody knew the horrors she'd seen better than Rhys. Squeezing his hand as a thank-you, she forced a smile. “Okay. Kind of a downer for a date anyway, huh? I gotta tell you though, it makes it a hell of a lot easier that you know everything already.”

“I'm glad.” He didn't let go of her hand. His fingers wrapped securely around hers, and his thumb rubbed in wordless comfort. The swath of skin he caressed became violently sensitive, and within moments his touch radiated all the way up her arm.

The silence that settled over them should have made her edgy, but for some reason with Rhys she found it peaceful. Safe enough she didn't feel compelled to fill the void with meaningless conversation this time. She could simply be herself because he understood her and what she'd been through, and because he was naturally quiet. Confident. Watchful. She subconsciously knew that no matter what happened, Rhys could and would handle it.

It was sexy as hell.

By the time they reached La Terrazza on Cambie at Pacific Avenue, Nev felt more relaxed than she'd been since her trip to Paris. With Rhys she could let down her guard. She didn't have to maintain the exhausting sense of vigilance tonight. She could turn back the clock and be a thirty-one-year-old woman out on a date, instead of a wary, traumatized surgeon who'd suffered unspeakable horrors two months ago.

Rhys offered his arm once more and took her inside. Removing her coat, she caught the male appreciation in his stare as he ran his gaze over her and was glad she'd chosen the dress. She paused at their table, cozily nestled into the corner and set for two, waiting to see which chair he'd choose. She assumed he'd want the one against the wall so he had a better line of vision.

He raised his brows. “All right?”

“Yes, I just thought you might want that chair,” she said, gesturing to the one tucked into the corner, then lowered her gaze. Jeez, maybe she was being stupid. The last thing she wanted was to make him feel analyzed or embarrassed.

But his expression turned curious. “Why's that?”

She cleared her throat and said softly, “Because you'd feel more... secure.”

He grinned. “You do know me pretty well.”

She smiled back, relieved, and allowed the maitre d’ to seat her. A waiter came over and took their drink orders. Nev looked across the table at Rhys. “Feel like wine? We could share a bottle.”

The cleft in his chin smoothed out a little as he smiled. “I don't drink.”

She blinked at him. “Ever?”

He shook his head. “But since I'm driving, feel free to drink as much wine as you like.”

His teasing made her laugh. “I think I'll just start with a glass of red,” she said to the waiter and agreed to the one he recommended. She turned her attention back to Rhys. “I've never been out to dinner with someone who doesn't drink.” She tilted her head. “Are you allergic to alcohol?”

“No. Just don't like the taste.”

Huh. “Did you have a bad experience when you were young?” Alcohol poisoning from a party when he was a teenager perhaps? A wild weekend leave during his time in the military?

“You could say that.”

She waited, all ears.

“My birth mom was an alcoholic and a heroin addict.”

“Oh.” Damn, how had she missed that critical detail from Sam?

“So yeah, I was just turned off the whole drinking thing at a real young age.”

The waiter returned with her wine, but now she felt bad for having ordered it. “Makes perfect sense. But are you sure it's got nothing to do with the fact that you're a control freak?”

His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Takes one to know one, sweetheart,” he murmured, the casual endearment making her heart clench. Raising his water glass, he held her gaze. “Cheers, Neveah.”

She touched her glass to his. “Cheers.” Taking a sip, she thought about his comment. “You think I'm a control freak, huh?”

The slow smile he gave her did funny things to her insides. “Yeah. Aren't you?”

She shrugged. “Yes, but how did you know?”

“I'm extremely observant.”

And good at sidestepping questions, she thought, considering him over the rim of her wine glass. They ordered salads and entrees, and once again he surprised her by ordering a vegetarian meal as she had.

“Let me guess,” she said. “You don't eat meat either because you're an environmentalist, or because it's too high in cholesterol and your tremendous discipline extends to your diet.”

“I eat meat once in a while,” he answered. “I just try to eat well most of the time.” He cocked his head. “What's your reasoning?”

She glanced away. “I uh... I haven't had much appetite for meat since I got back.” She fiddled with the napkin in her lap. “I think it's got something to do with the fact someone slaughtered the animal I'm eating, and then I start thinking about how they did it, and... Yeah. Too close to what happened in Afghanistan, I guess.” She'd always remember the sound of that knife cutting through her colleagues’ necks. Like a butcher hacking up a side of beef.

Feeling raw and stupid, she reached for a piece of bread, but Rhys stopped her by placing a hand on top of hers. Swallowing, she looked up.

In the candlelight, his deep blue eyes gleamed, and the understanding in them almost made her tear up. “Nev— ”

She pulled her hand away, embarrassed by how emotional she was feeling. “Wow. Bet you're glad you asked me to dinner, huh?”