Seducing the Accomplice (12 page)

Sadie’s face began to flush.

“Her paintings have sold,” Calan informed the shallow woman.

Edona passed a glance over him and then returned her attention to Sadie. “Of course they have.” She patted Sadie’s hand. “I don’t have to work, either.”

“Edona’s family runs a farm near Tirana,” Pietro said.

Calan caught the alteration in her eyes and saw right through her. Her family didn’t make much money. She only made people believe they did. What she really wanted was to have what Sadie had. The real thing. Lots of money. Someone to take care of her while she floated from one social event to the next.

“Oh, what kind of farm? Are there animals?” Sadie asked.

“No.” Edona sounded annoyed. “We grow produce.”

“Oh. My father gets a lot of his produce from a big corporation. They must have a lot more land than your family does. Because it’s a corporation, not a family-run business. All I mean is, it’s bigger…the corporation.”

Despite Sadie’s attempt to smooth her words, Edona almost visibly fumed with anger.

“You must have a very close-knit family,” Sadie added.

Calan had to stifle a laugh. She tried so hard to make others like her that she ended up saying the wrong things. But the people who misconstrued what she’d said weren’t worth the effort to begin with.

Edona bristled but said nothing. She took an aggressive sip of champagne and glowered at Sadie, who noticed and sort of shrank in her chair.

Calan turned to Pietro. It was time to start digging. “How long have you worked at the airport?”

“A little over a year.”

Underneath the table, he reached over to Sadie’s knee and put his hand there, caressing her bare skin with his thumb. Her head turned abruptly but she didn’t resist him. Instead, he sensed she understood why he’d done it. He was certain when she put her hand over his and smiled.

“You like it?” Calan asked Pietro.

The man gave a noncommittal nod. “Pays good.” Beside him, Edona gloated over at Sadie, who again noticed and met the woman’s gaze with more confidence than before.

“How do you know Arber?” Pietro asked.

“I don’t know him well.”

Pietro frowned. “Then how did you get invited? This is Mr. Andoni’s fortieth birthday celebration.”

“We were invited through a common acquaintance. Because we didn’t have any other plans, we thought we could use a nice night out.” He gave Sadie a meaningful look, and she leaned closer to him with infatuation glowing on her face.

As he hoped, Pietro didn’t press on who the common acquaintance was. But Edona glowered as she noticed the exchange between him and Sadie.

Calan decided to spare Sadie any more torture and said to the couple, “Will you excuse us?”

Standing, he extended his hand and Sadie took it. He led her to the dance floor and twirled her gently toward him, bringing her flush against him and holding her close.

“You did that on purpose,” she said.

Partially true. “Can you blame me?”

She was still smiling warm and soft up at him, relaxed in his arms, moving with him to the music. There were several other couples dancing but there was plenty of room to move.

Calan saw that Arber had left his table and had joined the group of men he’d seen earlier. He started talking to a man standing next to the one who’d left the older man’s table. His head tossed back for a loud laugh. Calan caught the man standing next to them looking right at him, and he didn’t look pleased. In fact, he looked downright ticked. Zhafa. It had to be.

“Get ready for a confrontation,” Calan said.

Sadie’s glow dimmed and she began searching around the room. “Why? Has someone recognized us?” She looked up at him. “You said no one was going to shoot at us tonight.”

“They won’t. Not in here.”

When her eyes grew more frightened, he said, “There are too many people here for anyone to do anything. Stop worrying.”

“What about when we leave?”

“Stop worrying,” he repeated, running his hand up her back and down again. He was beginning to really like her intelligent mind. When her eyes blinked in response to the caress and she softened again, he wondered if he’d forget the reason they were here and lost himself in her.

Bad idea.

“Let’s go get some more champagne.” He stopped dancing and took hold of her hand.

“We just got out here,” she complained.

He led her to one of the waiters and handed her a fresh glass, then took one for himself.

She sipped and began looking around the room. Calan kept his eye on Zhafa, watching him look over at him and Sadie every once in a while.

“Who’s that older man who keeps going over to Arber’s wife?” Sadie asked.

He first turned to her, then followed her gaze to Arber’s wife, who smiled at a tall, gray-haired man with a barrel torso and dark eyes. There was a close connection between them. They knew each other well.

“I bet he’s her father,” Sadie said.

Again, her observation impressed him. She was full of surprises. Rich socialite on the surface, but underneath…

The older man leaned down and kissed Arber’s wife on her cheek and murmured what Calan assumed were terms of endearment. Then he walked away.

“Definitely her dad,” Sadie said. “They look alike, too.”

They did. “You sure you don’t want to come to work for TES?” he teased.

And he got what he wanted—her unappreciative pout. Chuckling, he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to his side. Like on the dance floor, she melted against him.

Checking the group of men with Arber, he saw that they’d broken up. Arber had returned to his wife’s side and he didn’t know where Zhafa had gone.

“Arber waited until his wife’s father left before he went over to her,” Sadie said.

“How do you know?”

“I saw him looking over there when they were talking. I don’t think he likes his father-in-law.”

Calan watched Arber talking to his wife. She wasn’t happy with whatever they were talking about.

“That’s interesting,” he said.

“Maybe you should try to find out her father’s name,” Sadie suggested like a true operative.

Calan chuckled and that brought her head around. When he saw her bewildered expression, he chuckled again.

“I don’t understand why you think it’s you who’s lacking when you meet rich people,” he said, trying not to fall harder for her than he already had.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re an amazing woman, Sadie Mancini. Don’t ever let anyone make you feel any less.”

“What?”

“Do you think Edona would have noticed a conflict between Arber and his wife’s father? She wouldn’t have noticed the fact that he probably
is
her father. And I know she would have never thought we should find out his name.”

She eyed him suspiciously. And then she rolled her eyes. “You know as well as I do that I’m not cut out for this kind of work.”

He wasn’t so sure about that. With a little practice she could be an asset to an intel team.

“You have balls showing up here,” a heavily accented voice said in English.

Calan turned to his right, Sadie stepping along with him, to see the man who’d spoken with Arber.

“Gjergj Zhafa,” Calan said. “I’ve been waiting to meet you.”

Zhafa studied him and then glanced around the room. Calan wondered what he was looking for and hoped it wasn’t his henchmen.

Sadie clutched to him, her arm slipping under his.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Zhafa said.

“Then you know why I had to do what I had to do.”

“Your business with Abu Dharr is your own.”

“Was,” Calan corrected.

“Yes, and although that has caused me some inconvenience, it has not impeded me. There is another matter that is very much my business.”

“Are you working with one of Dharr’s associates? Is his network that extensive? You might want to be careful who you choose as your friends once word of that gets around.”

His meaning didn’t go unnoticed by Zhafa. “You are no longer with the military.”

“No.” He’d expected his résumé to be passed around. “I’m independent now.” He met Zhafa’s dark, beady gaze dead-on and watched the man register that.

“One man against this organization is no concern of mine.”

What did he mean by “this” organization? “I said I was independent. I didn’t say I was self-employed.”

Again, he watched Zhafa process the meaning behind the words. “You are good, Mr. Friese, but you are no match against me. You would be wise to reconsider what you are doing and return what is mine.”

“If you weren’t doing business with terrorists, I might be inclined to do as you ask. But since you are…”

“Then you’ve made up your mind.” Once again his gaze passed over Sadie. “That is a shame.”

The silent innuendo angered him beyond his control. “Be careful. I take threats like that to heart. Look at Dharr.”

“Then give me back my money.”

Calan said nothing. Instead, he looked toward Arber’s table, who’d noticed him talking to Zhafa. Zhafa looked there, too, and then back at Calan. He smiled without humor. “It would seem we have nothing more to discuss.”

“No need to be skeptical.”

Zhafa’s eyes narrowed at Calan’s sarcasm. He gave Sadie a small bow. “Madam.”

Sadie didn’t acknowledge him with anything more than a wary look. Zhafa left and walked over to the table next to Arber’s. Calan watched Arber look over at Zhafa and then directly at him and Sadie. There was no sign of recognition, just curiosity over who Zhafa had been talking to. But it would only be a matter of time before Zhafa spread the word.

Calan put his glass on a tray on one of several small tables. “Come on.”

“Are we leaving?” Sadie put her glass on the table, too.

“In a minute.” Taking her hand, he walked to one of the bars first and asked the bartender, “Who is that man over there, sitting at the table next to Arber Andoni? The big man with gray hair.” Zhafa was talking to him now.

“Sorry sir, Mr. Andoni’s wife arranged everything.”

“That’s Alek Dervishi,” a man standing near the bar said, holding a drink. “Lulyeta Andoni’s father.”

Dervishi.

He knew the name. One of his friends who worked for the FBI had mentioned him. Calan tried to remember what he’d said.

“All the rumors are true, too,” the man said, smiling knowingly.

That’s when it hit him. Alek Dervishi was a well-known Albanian mobster. The FBI agent had said he had people all over the world, even in New York. Calan hadn’t even considered the possibility a man like that was behind the meeting with Dharr. He hadn’t been that big, or so Calan had thought. And the Albanian mafia hadn’t shown up on TES’s radar as an organization involved in terrorism.

Did Zhafa work for him? He must. No wonder they’d been spotted so easily. At the embassy. The airport. In Montenegro. Dervishi had people everywhere. And here in his homeland, everyone knew him.

“Thanks,” he said to the man and then guided Sadie toward the exit.

He looked toward Dervishi. He’d gotten up from his seat, but Zhafa was still there, watching Calan and Sadie leave.

Outside, the doorman flagged them a taxi.

“You know him, don’t you?”

Searching his surroundings, assured they wouldn’t be followed, he climbed in the taxi and sat next to her, telling the driver to take them downtown. They’d get another taxi from there. He didn’t want to risk being followed. And he also didn’t want to worry Sadie any more than she already was.

“Who is Alek Dervishi?” she pressed.

He turned to look at her. This was going to get bad.

“Tell me.”

She wasn’t going to let up until he did. “Someone very powerful.” He hesitated. “And dangerous.”

“How do you know that? How do you know him?”

“It’s hard not to know about a man like that. He’s Albania’s biggest mafia leader.” One with a worldwide reputation.

“Mafia.” Sadie’s face paled. “Oh, my God. We’re goners. Dead. Gone. Dead and gone.”

“Now you know why I wanted you to stay with me.”

“You didn’t know who we were up against.”

He liked that she was saying “we” now.

“Calan, Zhafa was right. You’re only one man. You can’t fight a group like that.”

“I know.”

“Then give them their money back.”

“You think that’s going to make this go away?”

“What else can we do?”

Calan didn’t know, but he had the best counter-terror organization in the world backing him, and it was time to take advantage of that.

Chapter 9

S
itting on the bed next to Sadie, Calan put his cell phone on speaker. She hadn’t said much after they’d gotten back to the pension, and this morning she wasn’t any different. If he turned his back once on her, she’d bolt. He could feel it. Her tension. Her urgency.

Odie answered on the second ring. “Took you long enough.”

“We had a date last night.” He winked at Sadie.

She met the wink with a stone wall. He pretended not to notice.

“You’re in deep doo-doo, Friese. Hang on. Let me get Cullen.” She didn’t even take his bait when he’d said they had a date.

“Who is Cullen?” Sadie asked.

“My new boss.”

When that didn’t crack her stone wall, he gave her hand a squeeze.

“I’ve got you on conference,” Odie’s voice announced through his phone. “Is Sadie with you?”

“Yes.”

“Calan,” Cullen said, joining the call.

“I take it you found out who Gjergj Zhafa works for,” Calan said.

“Alek Dervishi. How did you know?”

“They had a date,” Odie tossed in.

So she hadn’t missed his comment. “We went to Arber Andoni’s birthday party. Everyone was there.”

“That could have been dangerous,” Cullen said.

Sadie’s eyes rolled up and met his with a silent I-told-you-so.

“It was too public.” He looked right into her eyes.

“Dervishi’s organization spans at least fifteen countries,” Odie said. “They call themselves The Order. They’re best known for their special kind of brutality. Gives a whole new meaning to the word branding.”

“What do you mean?” Sadie asked. “What do they do?”

“You think the Godfather was bad, this guy is downright gruesome. And it isn’t just the way he kills his enemies. He kills people he even
suspects
have crossed him. His signature method is disembowelment—while the victim is still living, of course. He actually has his men trained to kill that way. Couple that with the number of countries he’s infiltrated, and you’ve got one scary dude on your hands.”

Sadie turned horrified eyes to him. He gave her hand another squeeze.

“It’s no wonder we missed him going in,” Odie went on. “His daughter married a normal guy. Andoni isn’t part of the organization, other than allowing them the use of his airport. Dervishi dotes on his daughter. It’s probably the only reason why he didn’t kill her for not marrying someone in his organization. That’s what he did to his stepson, when he married an American porn star.”

“No wonder his wife looked so unhappy,” Sadie said.

And Calan figured out she was talking about the woman they’d seen sitting at Dervishi’s table.

“Yeah, I’m sure she’d have left him a long time ago if she didn’t know he’d have her executed.”

When silence began to stretch, Sadie said. “Does this mean we can go home now? There’s nothing Calan and I can do here.” She turned to Calan. “Are you going to return the money?”

“Returning the money won’t make a man like Dervishi go away,” Odie said. “Taking it probably pissed him off. He’ll want dead bodies.”

Namely, his and Sadie’s.

“But we can’t—”

“Don’t worry, Sadie,” Odie cut her off. “We have a team on the way. You’re going to be all right. We do this sort of thing every day.”

“I want to go home.”

“There is no such thing as home for a while,” Odie said. “These people will swallow you whole if you let them.”

The horrified look left Sadie’s eyes and a certain resolve took its place. She thought this was a hopeless situation. She’d thought it was hopeless before, but any doubt she’d had over whether or not to stay with him was obliterated by what Odie had revealed.

“Who did you send?” he asked Odie.

“A couple of snipers, an explosives expert and an ex-spy.”

He smiled. “That ought to cover it.”

Sadie’s brow lifted incredulously.

“They’ll be in Bari, Italy, by morning. You need to sail there to pick them up. Will you have any trouble with that?”

“No.” They already had a yacht. “We’ll be there tonight.” And once they arrived in Italy, he’d have to keep a close eye on Sadie. The temptation to leave him might overwhelm her better judgment.

“Are you sure no one saw us?” Sadie strained her eyes as she searched the disappearing Albanian shoreline. She never wanted to come back to this place.

“Yes. How many times are you going to ask me that?” he said as he navigated the yacht from the flybridge.

She bit her lower lip. He’d been exceedingly compassionate with her ever since that teleconference with Odie and the mysterious man who was his boss. Of course, he’d picked up on her anxiety. She didn’t know what frightened her more—staying with Calan and facing the wrath of an international mobster, or trying her luck in getting home and depending on her father to protect her. Even with the “team” they were picking up in Italy, it couldn’t possibly be enough to fight against Dervishi’s organization. She felt doomed whether she stayed or left.

And then there was the matter of how she felt about Calan.

“Why don’t you try to get some rest?” Calan said. “We didn’t get much sleep last night.”

They’d been up late from the party and the call came before nine. But getting rest was the most ridiculous suggestion she’d ever heard. Rest. How could she rest? Upset, she looked toward the bow and the sea that stretched ahead of them. Calan must have noticed her mood because he put the boat on autopilot and left the flybridge. He walked down to her on the main deck and stopped.

“Go put on a suit, then. There’s a hot tub aft on the main deck. You could use a good soak.”

She looked up at the overcast sky. It was chilly today.

“I’ll bring wine,” he added.

That did sound good. And what else was she going to do, stuck on this boat with him?

“I don’t want to get this wet.” She lifted her T-shirt to reveal the gun she’d put in her jeans like he did with his.

He smiled but reached for the gun and slipped it free, his fingers brushing her belly. Flaring sparks enflamed sexual frustration that had been building over the past few days.

“You don’t need this right now.”

Wondering if he knew how that sounded, she struggled with how it aroused her.

“No one’s going to burst onto the deck tonight. We weren’t seen leaving the marina. We didn’t even have to check in with customs. I was cleared when I arrived. There’s no way anyone will know where we’re going or that we left at all.”

That wasn’t what worried her now. Her eyes fell to his T-shirt-covered chest and lower to his jeans.

“Go get your suit on.”

She raised her eyes. “What about you?”

“I’ll get my suit, too.”

She didn’t look away and neither did he. Something sweet and sultry passed between them. He was having as much trouble as she was. And now maybe they’d reached their limit of resistance.

He put his hands on her shoulders and steered her around to face the salon door. Instead of listening to her better judgment, she started walking. He’d put all their things in the master suite, which bothered her and tantalized her at the same time. She went down the stairs with him on her heels. In the suite, she dug out the suit he’d insisted she purchase in Montenegro and went into the bathroom to change. When she emerged, Calan was already in his trunks.

His gaze roamed over her body and stirred already-frazzled desires. She left the room with him behind her, hearing him retrieve a bottle of wine and glasses from the bar before following her out onto the aft deck. Putting the wine and glasses down, he uncovered the tub and turned it on. Steam rolled up into the night air and the sound of bubbles relaxed her even more.

She stepped into the warm water and sat back, closing her eyes. Yes, this was what she needed.

Hearing the cork pop free of the bottle, she listened to Calan pour the wine, the sound joining the bubbles. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes in time to see him climb into the tub beside her with two glasses of wine. He handed her one.

“Thanks.” She smiled a little up at him, a natural reaction. She appreciated this diversion and chose to ignore where it might lead.

“Don’t mention it.” Sitting next to her, he sipped his wine.

So did she, having no idea what to say next. The sea was calm under a cloudy sky. Perfect weather for a warm bath. With Calan…

She was tired of fighting how well everything clicked with him. From the moment they’d met he’d appealed to her on so many levels. The danger he’d put her in didn’t appeal to her, but
he
did. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought a special ops man who worked for a clandestine company would become a love interest for her… He’d told her about TES. He’d also revealed his deep conviction over fighting terrorism. He hadn’t meant to, but he had. He’d shared all of it with her.

She doubted he was any more prepared for this relationship than she was.

And he saw things about her. When Edona had subtly been shunning her, he’d defended her.

You’re an amazing woman, Sadie Mancini. Don’t let anyone make you feel any less.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he said.

She sipped her wine to delay a response. But then she decided to ask what she was dying to know.

“Why did you say I was an amazing woman?”

“Because it’s the truth. You are amazing. What’s even more amazing is you don’t see that about yourself.”

“I do,” she said. “But no one else seems to.”

“People like Edona are insecure. They live behind the money and titles of the men they’re with. They’re nothing impressive all by themselves. People like that only feel good about themselves when they have more material possessions than everyone else around them. Titles and money over heart and soul. If you want to find people you can call friends, stay away from women like her.”

And men,
Sadie thought, looking up at the stars. “Those are the kind of people my father likes.” She spoke the realization aloud.

“You want the wrong people to like you.”

Did her father want her to like the wrong people? “So I should look for people who don’t have money?”

“Who cares if they have money or not? Stop categorizing. Look for heart and soul.”

She did categorize. Adam had money and came from a similar background as her. Even Edona came from a similar background. She didn’t have family money, but she didn’t have to work. The men she’d dated who hadn’t had money fooled her into thinking they did. Her problem was wanting anyone she thought her father would like to also like her. She didn’t take any time to find out what kind of person they were, when she should spend a few minutes doing exactly that. Then she could simply walk away and spare herself a lot of agony and self-defeating behaviors.

From now on, as soon as someone started making her feel the way Edona had, she’d know it wasn’t right. That could be her gauge. But how could she recognize heart and soul?

Looking over at Calan, warmth enveloped her. He could be her gauge for that. Whether he realized it or not, they had that together.

Still holding on to her glass, she leaned closer to him. “Thank you.”

He grinned. “You’re welcome.”

Ignoring the little voice warning her not to do anything to make her feel more for him than she already did, she kissed him. Moving back, she met his now-smoldering eyes. This felt too good to give up. She put her glass of wine on the edge of the hot tub and then took his and put it next to hers. He let her, watching her with those gorgeous eyes.

Riding the buoyancy of the water, she slid her hands over his wet chest and straddled him, feeling feather-light sitting on him in the water with all the warm bubbles gurgling.

“I said you’re welcome.”

She smiled and kissed his mouth again. “You’re an amazing man.”

He kissed her back, their mouths melding and igniting an undeniable flame.

She couldn’t get away from this. He touched her and she was lost in magic. He was the man she’d met that first night in the hotel, looking out for her, caring about her. He was doing that now. Caring about her, about how she categorized. He could relate to her. No man had ever been that way with her.

His hands moved over her back, emerging from the bubbly water to hold her closer. One hand slid into her wet hair and he pressed her mouth harder to his. He angled his head and took a deep taste of her with his tongue.

She lost control of her breath. She was hot all over and the temperature of the water had nothing to do with it. Calan and all that he was did. Him. He was what made her want to celebrate like this, celebrate the love that was growing between them, even though he couldn’t see it.

But what if he could?

Putting her hands on each side of his head, she gave all she had to the kiss, satisfied when she heard a sound rumble deep in his throat. He moved his hands to her butt and slid her higher up his lap, over his erection. It made her shiver and grind herself on him more.

Feeling his fingers work the clasp of her suit, she pulled back as he loosened the top and then untied the straps around her neck. He pulled it free and tossed it over the edge of the hot tub, his hand colliding with the wine glass nearest him. Both glasses tipped over and crashed to the deck.

Sadie laughed and he chuckled.

“For once it wasn’t me,” she said.

He slid his fingers into her hair and brought her head down for another kiss, no longer smiling. She moved over him again.

Breaking free of the kiss, Calan looked down at her breasts and cupped them in his hands. He leaned forward and took one in his mouth. She felt his tongue graze over her nipple and pressed her lips to the side of his eye. She ground herself on him once again.

Swearing, he abandoned her breast and tugged his trunks down his legs. She rose up to give him room. As his trunks followed her top, she pushed her bottoms down. He hooked them with his finger and she heard their sloppy landing on the main deck planks.

Slowly, she lowered onto him. He guided his erection under the water. It was erotic looking into his eyes while he entered. Erotic, and more. This felt so real. He surrounded her soul and she gave in to that feeling. Bubbles churned and rolled as he slid all the way into her, made all the more intense because it was him who shared this with her.