The Spy Wore Red (15 page)

Irritated, she said, “I would have told you if I’d found him, and if I had, I wouldn’t have needed to go shopping to find something to wear tonight.”

The mention of her clothes sent his eyes to her exposed shoulders, then to her breasts where they rose high above the contour of the sexy dress. From there, his gaze drifted to her narrow waist, then over her curvy hips. He studied her long legs last, then her naughty red-strapped high heels.

“Is this how you dress for work?” he asked.

“Sometimes. It depends.”

“On what?”

He kept looking. Kept telling her with his eyes that he liked what he was seeing.

“Please stop looking at me like that. This really isn’t who I am.”

“Then who are you, Nadja…really? Tell me about the girl in that picture in the lobby. Then tell me about the tattoo.”

“The tattoo is just a silly design. A heart with wings,” she simplified, knowing that its meaning was far more than that. It was symbolic, and she’d used it to keep her sanity. When she touched it she felt close to her baby, and she’d needed to feel a connection. But Bjorn would never know the story behind it. He couldn’t know.

“How is Mady?”

The question brought her out of her musing. “You already know, so why ask?”

“Tell me why your sister isn’t listed anywhere in your file.”

“Because she’s my half sister and my father never claimed her. It was Kovar who cared for her growing up.”

“And when did your sister marry Holic?”

“He followed her to Groffen and became one of Kovar’s students for a while. She was seventeen when she ran off with him. They married a year later when she became pregnant.”

“What is your plan, Nadja? Are you here to interfere in the mission? Where do you stand?”

“I stand beside you, Bjorn. You’re my partner. And I’m prepared to follow through with our assignment. Killing Holic won’t be a problem for me.”

“We’re not going to kill him.”

“Excuse me?”

“The mission’s been changed. We’re suppose to capture him alive.”

“No. That’s impossible.”

“My contact back in the States assures me that Quest is in agreement with Onyxx. We retrieve the kill-file, and apprehend Holic. Check with Polax if you don’t believe me.”

“Don’t worry, I will.”

Nadja had left her phone in the pocket of her wool cape when she had gone downstairs. She walked to the closet, retrieved it and dialed her commander.

Looking straight at Bjorn, she said to Polax the minute she heard his voice, “Is it true? Have our orders been changed?”

“Q, it’s good to hear from you. I was going to call. Listen, Merrick has told me something disturbing. He claims you’re a double agent. And he also says you’re the sister to Holic’s wife. Hell, Nadja, do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

She glared at Bjorn. “I could tell you that it isn’t true.”

“But it is true, isn’t it?”

“Who gave Merrick the information?”

“Who do you think? Odell and that computer-whiz friend of his in Montana, Jacy Madox. I wish they had been wrong about you.”

“They are.”

“Merrick said you confessed to Odell.”

She turned away so Bjorn couldn’t hear. “I would never put Quest at risk. I know that the words ‘trust me’ sound ludicrous knowing what you know, but if you could do it just for—”

“My superiors will hang me for this if they find out how you came to Quest. What I’ve overlooked. And if I’m hung, so will you be.”

“Give me some time.”

“The only way you could possibly redeem yourself would be to make this mission a success and come back a winner. But even then…”

She looked over her shoulder at Bjorn. “To do that Holic must live?”

“Yes. We need him alive.”

“Need him for what? Onyxx already interrogated him. He wouldn’t talk.”

“It’s out of my hands, Q. Bring him back breathing. You have your orders.”

“I’ve got to go.”

“Q, wait! About this double agent business—”

“It never interfered with Quest. I kept the two jobs separate.”

She hung up and laid the phone down on the coffee table. “Why did you tell your commander I was a double agent? We made a deal.”

“Our deal was to keep the chip in your leg a secret, and I have. It’s ours, just like I promised.”

“Let’s call it a night,” he said, thinking that if he got her off her feet and into bed, then afterward she might tell him what she was still keeping from him.

There was something. He could see it in her eyes. Even more now that they were here at Groffen.

“Yes, let’s call it a night. I’m exhausted.”

She started to the door to see him out, but he pulled her back. Before she could protest, he slid his arm around her. “I’m staying here, with you.”

“On the sofa?”

“You don’t want that.” He brought his hand up and palmed the back of her head. Holding her so she couldn’t get away, he moved in to kiss her. She tried to avoid his lips, but he stayed with it. Caught her mouth. She let out a faint cry, then surrendered.

He kept the kiss going as he peeled the tiny strap off her shoulder and sent his lips down her throat, moving slowly past her collarbone.

“You smell good,” he murmured. “Feel good.”

He slid his hand over her ass, worked her against his crotch, then started to back up down the hall, taking her with him.

They moved in unison, and when her hands found the buttons on his shirt, he smiled and crossed the threshold into the bedroom, sliding the zipper down the back of her sexy dress.

Hard and aching, he didn’t pay any attention to who had turned on the light next to the bed until a voice said, “Auntie Nad, who is that man?”

Chapter 15

I
t was amazing how things worked out. How the future could be reshaped in the blink of an eye. Holic smiled, feeling empowered by the plan he’d hatched.

“Do you know if Kovar’s will is in order, Jakob?”

His henchman shrugged. “I don’t know, but with so much at stake and his recent heart attack, I’m guessing it’s up to date.”

“Don’t guess, find out. And find out how his billions will be split. Who gets what.”

“Right away,” Jakob promised. “Is there anything else?”

Holic’s mind was suddenly working overtime. He could thank the drugs for that. His pain wasn’t gone, but he couldn’t feel it, and that was allowing him to think again. Think and make plans.

And what he was thinking was that Groffen was worth a fortune, and although he had millions of his own, the idea of owning the lodge suddenly suited him. A man could never have too much money or too many women.

He had met Kovar years ago when his dream of becoming a professional skier had led him to train with one of the best instructors in the country. But few people have the makings of a champion, so Kovar had said, and Holic had fallen short. He would always remember how bitter he felt about that. But he supposed that he owed Kovar a thank-you anyway. He’d found his true talent after that—shooting guns and watching whatever he’d hit die.

Within a year, with the right connections, he’d become a busy freelance assassin. And over the years he’d been hired by some very rich, powerful men.

Yes, his idea was perfect. He would see to it that Mady was the sole heir to Groffen, and while she operated the lodge, Pris would take over his legacy, while he retired in style.

He’d invest, vacation, visit his many mistresses and enjoy a life surrounded by all that he loved.

“I’m guessing that the estate would be split among his three grandchildren,” Jakob said.

“Unless of course there was an accident. Find out where Ruger and Nadja are these days. Do it immediately.” He stroked his growing erection, courtesy of thoughts of his distant mistresses. “But before you get to work, run down to After Shock and bring me back a pair of long legs. Make sure she’s just as sweet as the one you brought me after lunch, and just as talented with her tongue.”

Jakob made a joke about being blown away, and Holic’s laughter followed his henchman out the door. He was still laughing a minute later when Mady walked in with a coffee tray and a sweet pastry.

“I’ve brought you something,” she said, setting the tray on the table. She kissed him on the cheek.

He eyed the two cups. “Are you joining me?”

“I’d planned on it, but now I can’t. There’s a problem in the kitchen. I’m sorry, I have to go straight back.”

“Don’t be sorry. Groffen is important to you.”

“I do love it here, Holic.”

“Then maybe we should make plans to stay indefinitely.”

“Could we?”

“I’ve been thinking about retiring here.”

“Oh, Holic. That would be so wonderful.”

He kissed her and she kissed him back, her smile making her look younger.

She checked her watch. “I wish I didn’t have to go, but I do.”

“Go, and don’t think about me. I’m going to bed early. Thank you for bringing me the coffee and sweets, but lately I’ve been thirsty for champagne. Can you have a bottle sent up?”

“Of course.”

“And a bowl of strawberries with whipped cream.”

Bjorn spun around searching the room for the voice. He still had his hand on Nadja’s zipper. It was halfway down her lovely spine, and he sent it back up.

“Alzbet,” Nadja whispered. “What are you doing here, sweetheart?”

“I had a bad dream. The witch was chasing me.”

Bjorn watched Nadja hurry to the bed and scoop up the child who sat in the middle. The kid looked maybe five. It was the little girl he’d seen with Mady earlier in the day. “The witch is going to find me and—”

“No, she won’t, Alzbet. I told you she’s not going to hurt you anymore. I’ve taken care of it.”

Bjorn cleared his throat and Nadja glanced over her shoulder. “You’re going to have to leave.”

“Leave?”

“Now.”

“Now?”

“Are you having a hearing problem?”

He glanced at the kid, then back to Nadja. She had her arms around the girl like she thought he was going to steal her. He wasn’t. He didn’t share the same sentiments about children that most people did. He felt sorry for them, that was about it. Life sucked, and if you were a kid it sucked even more.

So who was this kid? And who had brought her into this messed-up world? he wondered. Was she Mady’s and Holic’s child. He knew they had a daughter named Prisca, but she was older.

He stepped closer to get a better look and Nadja went ballistic. She shot off the bed. “I said leave, Bjorn. I mean it. Now!”

“Is he a bad man, Auntie Nad?”

The kid had pulled back to get a breath of air. That made sense; Nadja was squeezing the girl so damn tight he was surprised she wasn’t turning blue.

“He’s not bad,” she said, “it’s just late and you need to sleep now.”

The last word was punctuated with a solid get-your-ass-gone glare directed at Bjorn.

“I’m not tired. Aunt Mady says if I’m not tired I can read. Did you know that I can read?”

“No, I didn’t. That’s wonderful. But I’m afraid there aren’t any books in here that would interest you, and it’s very late. You should have been asleep hours ago.”

Bjorn listened to the conversation. Nadja was all soft words and gentle tones with the kid. He watched her tuck the girl back into bed and kiss her forehead.

“You can sleep here tonight. I’ll settle it with your grandpa. Close your eyes, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She turned out the light, before Bjorn got a good look at the kid, then grabbed his arm and tugged him out of the room and closed the door.

He let her lead him into the living room, and once they were there she let go of his arm and turned and faced him. Her sweet disposition—the one she’d tailored for the kid—was gone now. Her jaw was set and she looked ready for a fight.

“So who is—”

“Shut up, Bjorn. I don’t want to answer any questions right now. I just want you to go back to your room and we’ll talk in the morning.”

“Tell me about the kid first. Whose brat?”

“She’s not a brat. She’s…”

He saw her hands fist at her sides and her nostrils flare. He gauged the signs, said, “What is it, Nadja? What don’t you want me to know? At Nordzum we made a deal, remember?”

“Okay, then I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

“Good. I’m waiting.”

A rap on the door interrupted them, and Nadja spun around just as her niece said, “Aunt Nad, it’s Prisca. Can I come in? It’s important.”

Nadja glanced at Bjorn, and he quickly nodded. “Ask her in.”

“Not dressed like this.”

He tossed her the black sweater dress that had been draped across the back of the couch, motioned for her to get rid of her shoes and the pins in her hair, then started to back out of the room and head for the hall.

“Bjorn, get back here,” she warned as she held the black dress in one hand and began to pull pins out of her hair with the other. “Bjorn, not the bedroom.”

“Are you awake, Aunt Nad?”

Two hours later Nadja opened the door to her bedroom wearing the black sweater dress and bare feet to find Bjorn asleep on the bed, their daughter curled against him. She was so taken aback by what she saw that her heart nearly stopped.

She couldn’t move, and yet she needed to. Needed to get Bjorn out of there. No, it would be better if she took Alzbet back to Kovar’s suite.

They were sharing a pillow, and the light beside the bed lit up their faces. Alzbet was a mix of both of them, but she could see her daughter had Bjorn’s sleek nose and his skin tone. Her mouth and heart-shaped face were her mother’s.

Nadja touched her own cheek, followed the contour down to her chin. She was again struck by the miracle of her daughter. The miracle of Alzbet here. Her baby. Her daughter asleep next to her father.

Quietly she walked to the bed and scooped up Alzbet in her arms. She stayed sleeping, and Nadja left her suite with her daughter’s head resting on her shoulder. She had expected Kovar’s door to be locked, but it wasn’t. She stepped inside, her intention to put Alzbet to bed, then leave.

But Kovar was sitting in the living room at his desk. He wore a black robe and his gray hair hung to his shoulders. The desk lamp was turned down low, but she could make out that he was again at his computer.

She walked up behind him and saw that he was again watching a skier on the slopes. But this time it was her daughter’s little form, and like her mother, it appeared Alzbet wasn’t afraid of speed.

“She reminds me of you.” He turned, glanced at Alzbet on Nadja’s shoulder. “Is she all right?”

“Yes. I found her in my bed.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell her—”

“No. She was having a bad dream. She was being chased by Gerda.”

“That bitch… I never knew that she was hurting you for all those years. You never said anything, but you should have. Anyway, she won’t be hurting Bethy any longer. Put her to bed, then we’ll talk.”

Nadja did as he asked, tucked her child into her bed, then returned to the living room. Kovar had turned off the computer and switched on a lamp in the corner. He wasn’t using his wheelchair but it was close by in case his ankles gave out. He’d poured himself a glass of wine.

“Sit,” he said, and pointed to the chair backlit by the lamp. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No.”

She did sit, however, though she was anxious to return to Bjorn. She didn’t want him waking up and finding her gone again. She wasn’t sure what he would do if that happened.

There were several minutes of dead silence, then he said, “I wanted to tell you that I called Velich and told him that the chip is holding up and so are you. He appreciated the call and told me to tell you that he’s at your disposal anytime, and reminds you that your checkup is next month. You need to go this time.”

“I will.”

More silence.

“About my heart. I told you today that I was fine, but the truth is I’m not as well as I would like. But death…it comes to all of us. Some of those bastards you’ve blown away weren’t thirty.”

“True.”

“Anyway—” he eased down on the red velvet couch and lifted each leg onto the cushions “—I want you to know that I’ve provided for Bethy’s future. She’ll be cared for regardless.”

This was an odd conversation.

Nadja pushed her hair away from her face. “I can provide for my daughter.”

“No, my Bethy will have what she needs, and it will come from me.”

“Why? Why can’t you just let me have her? Why can’t you change how you think? Why can’t you alter the future? You have the power.”

“Because we can never shed our true skin, Nadja. Our past shapes who we are. The lessons learned serve the future. Remember that. If you’re smart you will own who we’ve become, and embrace it. I embrace who I am, and what I own I will never surrender—not my property nor my creed. Not even in death.”

Holic was livid. Jakob had just given him the bad news.

“Tell me again.”

“I said the kid gets everything. The whole damn estate.”

Holic couldn’t believe it. Something was wrong. Why would Kovar change his will and give his entire estate and all his billions to Ruger’s four-year-old kid?

“You’re sure she gets everything, Jakob?”

“I’m sure, Holic, but here…look at this. I made a copy of the will for you. The kid’s not Ruger’s.”

“What?”

“She’s Nadja’s child.”

“She can’t be. Mady wouldn’t have lied about that.”

“Well, that’s what it says here.”

Jakob laid the paper on the table and flipped through it so Holic could see the proof of his words.

“Kovar’s no fool,” Holic said. “In order for the will to be valid he needs proof. A birth certificate.”

“I haven’t found that yet, but I’m working on it. Look at this.” Jakob dug into his pocket once more, pulled two pictures out and laid them on the table. One was of Nadja at age seven or eight, and the other a current picture of Alzbet. “They look a lot alike. Especially their hair color.”

“Ruger’s blond,” Holic pointed out. But there was a certain likeness between Nadja and the girl, aside from the hair.

“And here’s Nadja a few years ago, I think.” Jakob pulled out another picture. “I got this out of Kovar’s bedroom.”

Holic stared at the second picture of Mady’s sister. A fairly current picture, he imagined. He frowned suddenly, realizing that he’d seen her somewhere recently. And then it dawned on him where.

“Leave me, Jakob,” Holic said in a dead calm. “I have some work to do.”

In the dark, in front of his computer, Holic brought up the kill-file and sifted through the many faces. He rarely scanned ahead and read profiles on his victims until he was actually on the hunt for them, but he did enjoy looking at their faces from time to time.

“Ah, there she is,” he said, studying a similar picture to the one Jakob had filched from Kovar. She was number twenty-six on the Chameleon’s list. He selected the picture, hit Enter and pulled up her file. And as he read he opened his drawer and reached for the bottle of pills he’d come to depend on over the past week.

“Interesting,” he muttered. “She’s been an agent for EURO-Quest for six years. She goes by the nickname Q, and she’s considered the best bedroom assassin in the intelligence business.”

Holic smiled at the last, his mind working overtime now that he was again high. He began to plot his next move, a little disappointed that such a lovely creature would have to die. But in death games such as this there could be only one winner.