Undercover Nightingale (13 page)

“One thing we should clear up,” he said. “I liked what I saw the other night, make no mistake about that. But I’m a selfish guy. When I make love to a woman, I want her on the same page. I want her wanting what I want. You were in my room to make a phone call. If you hadn’t been caught, you wouldn’t have played the seduction card. You were very good at it, by the way.”

“Obviously not good enough. You left with a hard-on and I went to bed…” She stopped herself from giving away the disappointment she’d felt when he’d walked out that night.

“Finish it.” He came toward her. “You went to bed…”

“Alone,” she finished.

He walked around her and stopped behind her. His hands settled on her shoulders and then he slid the straps of gold down her arms, his fingers moving slowly, tugging the straps past her elbows.

“A seduction of your own, Ash Kelly?”

“That depends on what you want. If Toriago was here, he would take you in a second. Against the wall. On the floor. Standing right here. Ash Kelly…well, he’s…”

She turned around, her hands moving upward to rescue the bodice of her dress from falling away. “He’s what? Finish it,” she said, using his words.

“The man I was eight years ago retired. Those were wild days, and I was free to do and be whoever I wanted to be. Free until prison. That was a wake-up call. Since then, Ash Kelly has reformed a bit. He’s no slouch, and he doesn’t back down to anyone. And when he kills someone, it’s for a better reason than drugs or money. Would you like that glass of wine now? Or have you decided on the gin martini?”

“Wine.”

“Red or white?”

“White.” She watched him walk away. She’d studied him for days, but she realized tonight was the first time she was really seeing him for who he was. Partly because the game was over, she imagined, but as taken as she had been with Toriago, she suddenly found herself anxious to get to know Ash Kelly.

While his back was turned, she slipped out of the dress and let it fall to the floor. Stepping out of it, she slid the thong past her thighs, then walked down the steps into the whirlpool of warm, steamy water, removing the bracelet on her wrist, and setting it on the ledge, she relaxed back against the tiles and closed her eyes.

The water felt heavenly and her body began to relax. He was right, she needed this, needed this time to think back to those months with Cyrus.

She had to put the pieces together and remember how she could have been led astray by an imposter. A very good, very rich imposter—he’d had the means to convince her that everything he said was true. But how had he done that?

And where had he taken her? It reminded her of an old monastery. Somewhere not far from Athens, Greece. He’d told her it was one of many underground intelligence bases. How could she have been so gullible?”

Think.

Remember.

“Here.”

She opened her eyes and saw Ash crouching down with his hand extended.

“White wine.”

“Thank you.” She took the glass and said, “Are you going to join me?”

“I’ll pass on the drink, but the water looks inviting, and the company.”

“I’m not afraid to believe you anymore.”

“That’s a good start.”

He stepped out of his pants, leaving his tight-legged black briefs on. They accented his muscular thighs and…the rest of his perfection.

He came into the water, sat down across from her, and relaxed against the wall.

Ash Kelly was gentler than Toriago. He’d said prison had been a wake-up call. That he no longer killed without reason. She wondered if he had to have a better reason for making love than just wanting to, because right now, that was all she wanted.

“So, Jaz, come up with any memories you’d like to share? Maybe you should start with the first time you disappeared from the SDECE.”

“I was in Munich when Cyrus first approached me. He told me that I had been cleared to go with him.”

“And so you went?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“To Athens.”

“Greece?”

“Yes. But from there I don’t know where he took me. He explained that I would be transported to the base in a cabin on a yacht.”

“And you agreed?”

“Yes.”

“And that’s where Jaz Grant died and Allegra Nightingale was born?”

“I know it sounds unreal. But it’s true.” Jaz looked away from him. “I can’t believe I never second-guessed his motives.”

“He’s very good. Don’t blame yourself.”

She looked at him. “Then who do I blame?”

“Bad luck. The weather. Whatever you want.”

“Why are you being so nice to me? Your friend thinks I’m a traitor. Why don’t you?”

“A few things don’t add up.”

“Just a few, and you’re willing to gamble on those odds?”

He shrugged. “What can I say, I’m a sucker for mystery women? I think it’s interesting that you can remember your childhood, but more current events are blurry.”

“It’s true, I remember my life in France with my mother. Bonnie has been with me.”

“Bonnie’s your mother?”

“Yes. Who I am is because of her. She taught me how to survive. Not to expect too much, and to take what I needed. There’s a balance, you know.”

“Yes, I learned that a little late. But I’ve got it now. So you were brought to this facility twice?”

“Yes. But I don’t remember much about the second time.”

“Drugged, you think.”

“Maybe.” Jaz took a sip of her wine, then set the glass on the ledge. She brought her hands to her face and then sent them up through her hair. She wished she could remember more to help him help her. “This isn’t going to work. I don’t remember enough. I know now that was his plan. He must have wiped out pieces of my memory with drugs or something else.”

“We’re going to get him. I promise you that.”

His voice had turned hard-edged. He meant what he said.

“I just don’t know why he picked me.”

“I do. He needed someone from the SDECE, and so he went to the top. Stillman says you’re the best, and I have to agree. I’ve seen your stats.”

“You know it’s very strange that I like you. I don’t like many men.”

His face softened. “I’m a lucky guy, then.”

“I don’t know about that. I’m worried that I won’t be able to help you stop whatever is about to happen.”

“What’s going to happen is that Filip is about to turn the city upside-down to find you.”

“And when he does?”

“Who says he’ll find you?”

“But if he does?”

“You let me worry about Filip.”

“What if I don’t remember what happened to the disk before we run out of time?”

When he didn’t answer, her heart sank.

“That bad.” She looked away from him, again. “I can’t live never remembering, and never knowing the extent of what I’ve done. If you know, why don’t you just tell me? Maybe it will open my eyes and jolt my memory.”

“I know you stole a disk, and that you’re no traitor. I just need to recover the data on that disk and…”

“And what?”

“Convince Stillman that you’re not a traitor. Now enough talk. Let the water relax you, and try to forget about it for a while.” He stood and walked toward her, sat down beside her. “We’ll sort it out later.”

“If you were in my shoes, could you live with it?”

“Live with what?”

“Everyone thinking you’re a traitor.”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I know. I can’t.”

She stood up suddenly, forgetting she was naked. The minute the cool air touched her skin she realized her mistake. He had to be staring at her bare ass right now. She didn’t move, didn’t say anything.

After several seconds, he said, “Turn around.”

Slowly, she turned. “We’re not going to be able to fix this, are we?”

“Not right now. Come back and sit down.” He reached out and tugged her down onto the bench. “How are your ribs feeling?”

“Much better.”

“And the bruises on your stomach?”

She looked into his eyes. They were so easy to read just now. “Why do you care?”

“Maybe I like you, too.”

She smiled. “Maybe?”

“Okay, I like you. I guess the truth is I did the first day I saw you. But you already know that. There’s been something going on between us since you dove into my car head first. But don’t worry, I didn’t bring you here for selfish reasons. This is about you and getting you to feel better, not me.”

“What would make you feel better?”

He let out a long sigh. “I’m fine.”

“But you could be better, right?”

He reached out and traced her mouth with a wet finger, leaving water drops behind. “How did he explain the reason for giving you a new face?”

“When you’re under deep cover, you can’t have a past unless it’s useful. Mine wasn’t.”

“The changes are subtle, but they certainly altered your looks.”

“It took a while to believe it was me staring back in the mirror.”

He seemed to be dissecting her face. Finally, he said, “You were okay with the face change?”

“Cyrus said no sacrifice was too great. That when you’re chosen, sacrifices must be made. I admit I was nervous, but I…”

“You what?”

“I’m a natural brunette. For the SDECE, I bleached it blond as part of my look. My role as an agent was internal sabotage. The recovery operations involved a higher rate of men than women. As you know most people think blondes are a bit more daring and exciting. I was curvy back then, and I admit the look was…Well, I would have been able to support myself quite well as a stripper.”

She saw him grin, then look down.

“What is it? Did I say something funny?”

“It’s what I thought when I saw your picture.” He looked up. “No disrespect.”

“None taken. When my mother was alive she used to entertain men for money. The neighbors called her a whore, but she wasn’t. She didn’t have much education, but she was beautiful. I loved Bonnie, and with every year that passes I respect her sacrifices more and more. She was a good mother, and she never lied to me. She knew what was important, when and why to take a risk, and how far to go without losing yourself. The irony in that is, I lost control of that choice when Cyrus interrupted my life months ago.

“You know I joined the SDECE because I thought I could make a difference. I know that sounds a bit naive, but I knew I could do it. It wasn’t all glamorous and normal, and maybe that was the appeal. I’ve always enjoyed using my mind, and being athletic. Not that I haven’t used my body, too. I’ll admit it was a tool I relied on for certain missions. The old Jazmin Grant was a bold bitch, a blend of brains and curves, and she never gave up.”

“And Allegra Nightingale?”

“She’s twenty pounds thinner and a bit more reserved, but no less determined. I might not look the same, but there are a few of the old parts still hanging around. Sometimes when I look in the mirror I expect to see
her
looking back at me. I’ve had a nose job, cheek implants and more collagen injected in my lips than a French model.”

“And your eyes?”

“Green contacts.”

“You weren’t afraid?”

“Cyrus sold me on his plan. What more can I say? He kept saying I was chosen. That being recruited into a deep cover agency was an honor. I bought it, as well as the need for reconstructive surgery.”

His hand touched her cheek. “I like how honest you are.”

“Then you really do believe me?”

“Yes.”

“And where does that leave us exactly, Ash Kelly?”

“I don’t know yet. At the moment, I’m doing the best I can to stay focused on the job, but…”

“And how is that working for you so far?”

His hand slid around the back of her neck, and he leaned in and kissed her gently. “It’s not working too well. It’s getting harder by the second.”

“Are we talking situation or anatomy now?”

He grinned. “Cute.”

She leaned her head against the rim of the tub and closed her eyes. She didn’t speak again, and neither did he. After a long minute, she opened one eye and found that he’d closed his eyes, too, and that his breathing was slow and deep.

She sat up and pushed herself away from the wall. Placing her hands on the tiled rim on either side of his head, she straddled him.

She had just begun to ease herself down onto his lap when he opened his eyes. “I was wondering what you were going to do to relieve the pain you’re in.”

“Did I say I was in pain?”

“Either that’s what I’m feeling, or we’ve been joined by a sea serpent.”

“The woman makes jokes while I’m suffering.”

“You said I had a sense of humor.”

“I did, didn’t I?” He sobered. “Here’s the deal. I didn’t bring you here to seduce you. You took a helluva beating from Petrov and you could use a night to rest and—”

“And remember the past few months.”

“That too.”

Jaz started to get off him. “All you had to say was that you weren’t interested. You didn’t need to list your reasons.”

His hands settled on her hips and kept her welded to his lap. “I’m interested. You can feel that I am. I just don’t want this to be about me.”

“Another visit from the Boy Scout. Are you always this unselfish?”

“I’m not unselfish. I just don’t want you looking back on this with any regrets.”

She leaned in and kissed him. “If you want me, then we’re on common ground. Does that help?”

She must have said the right words because suddenly his hands were moving up her back, urging her closer. Her breasts touched his chest, and the warm water and steam moved around them. And for now it was only the two of them in the whirlpool, no past and no Cyrus.

When he kissed her long and deep, she knew what had started days ago had begun again. Only this time the outcome would be very different, and she answered his kiss with one of her own—a kiss that sent her on a new journey.

One Bonnie would have warned her was the death of all women who believed there was such a thing as common ground between a man and a woman.

W
hen the Chameleon heard Filip Petrov’s voice on the phone, he knew something was wrong.

“What is it? What’s gone wrong, Filip?”

“There was a shooting at Ballvaro tonight. Allegra’s disappeared.”

“Disappeared?”

The Chameleon listened to Filip while he relayed what had happened. All the while his blood pressure began to rise as he puffed on his Cuban cigar.

Nightingale missing? “Did she run, or was she taken?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” The Chameleon puffed harder, the blue smoke settling around him like a dark omen. “You disappoint me, Filip. I would expect a man in your vulnerable position to be concerned with proving his worth. You were scheduled to deliver the data tomorrow for decoding, and now—”

“I still can. I thought you had a tracker on her.”

“Yes, that’s true. But what if she’s already out of the country—”

“I don’t think so.”

“From now on, I’ll do the thinking, Filip. So you will wait to hear from me, and you had better hope that she’s close by. Without Nightingale all is lost, and if that is the case, so are you.”

“Then I’ll wait for your call.”

“Yes, you will. I’ll call back with her location within the hour. You see, Filip, unlike you, I never make a mistake. I’ve learned over the years to double my odds. You should try it some time.”

When the Chameleon hung up he headed into the bowels of
Minare
to locate Barinski. When he reached the corridor, he heard laughter.

He followed the laughter, and when he opened the door into the regeneration room he found Melita sitting on a table with her legs crossed eating an apple. Barinski was seated three feet away. They both looked up in surprise on hearing the door open, and when the good doctor saw who had interrupted his late-night party, he jerked to his feet, tipping over the chair.

“This is cozy,” the Chameleon said.

Melita continued to munch on her apple, while Barinski fumbled for his glasses, forgetting for a moment that they were riding his forehead.

Jerking them into place, he said, “We were just talking, and—”

“Melita, go to your room.”

She uncrossed her legs and slid off the table. “I didn’t know I had a curfew.”

“Go now, before I decide to give you one.”

She walked past him, then turned. “Don’t let your imagination run wild, Father. Nigel was just telling me some stories about his years in Nuremberg. I haven’t forgotten what you’re capable of, so don’t do something irreversible. Like hang him from the rafters and flog him to death.”

The suggestion sent Barinski’s hand to his neck, his pale skin turning blue with the suggestion—death by suffocation.

She gave Nigel a playful wink. “I enjoyed the stories, Nigel. Thank you. If you’re still alive in the morning, I’ll see you in the laboratory.”

When she left, the Chameleon said, “Nightingale is missing and you need to locate her for me.”

“That shouldn’t be difficult. I’ve planned for any obstacle that should arise.”

Somehow that wasn’t very reassuring, the Chameleon thought. He’d had nothing but setbacks since some damn fool had blown up Nescosto. He was just damn lucky that Nightingale had survived.

The Chameleon followed Barinski out the door and into the soundproof cubicle. There, Dr. Frankenstein turned on the high-frequency tracking monitor. It took only a matter of minutes for the transmitter to lock on its target and pinpoint her location.

The good news was, Nightingale was still in Budapest. The bad news was, her progesterone levels were over the roof.

“It seems you didn’t plan for every obstacle, Barinski. Whoever she’s with is getting the ride of his life.”

She stripped off his shorts, and then she was back, straddling him and turning him inside out with her warm body.

“Maybe we should slow down.”

It wasn’t something Marco Toriago would have said. But then again, Toriago had never had a problem finishing what he’d started.

Ash was turned on, stone hard and hungry, but the question still remained, could he deliver the goods and bring it home?

“It’s been a while for me,” she whispered against his lips, then raised up, slid forward, and slowly swallowed him up as she settled in his lap again. “If I’m rushing you, I’m sorry.”

It’s been a while
.

More common ground.

“Have you ever watched a thunderstorm?” she asked.

“I suppose I have.”

She was smiling down at him. “Most of the thunderstorms I’ve watched start out with a lightning show. You know, fast and quick. Explosive.”

“Explosive, yeah. I can relate to collateral damage.”

She sat up, then slowly fed him back inside her.

“And how does a thunderstorm relate to us?” he asked.

“Maybe if we’re lucky lightning will strike twice. You know, since I’m in such a rush this time.”

Hell, he was praying that he could pull off one explosion. And she was already planning for the next rain cloud.

“Are you going to be all right? I mean those bruises are—”

“Waterlogged, and I feel fine. Better than fine. I’m not as fragile as I look. And I’m with the Boy Scout, remember? I think I’m in good hands.”

Toriago was the one with good hands. They might have the same tools, but they used them differently. Hell, he hadn’t used them at all in a year.

Ash slid his hands over her ass and began to move, setting the rhythm in long, swift motions that sent her moaning and arching her hips.

The pace established, she set the tone, kissing him and touching him, and setting him on fire—lighting the fuse for the explosion that would surely take his head off one way or the other.

Her lips were parted, her eyes focused on him. Her hands were on his shoulders, her long legs hugging him so tight.

God, she was beautiful, and he had never wanted any woman as much as he wanted her right now.

Her warm breasts were teasing his chest as they rose in and out of the water with her rapid hip action. He closed his eyes a moment, moaned with the pleasure she was giving him. He felt her body begin to spasm and it sucked him deeper inside her.

The pressure built, dragging him down that familiar road. He let go at that moment, and a guttural groan followed him into the frenzy of two bodies engaged in the dance of life. He was right about the rush going to his head.

He rode it out, that moment when life and death has no meaning, just the euphoria of feeling immortal if only for a matter of minutes.

She was clinging to him as he spilled into her, and when he felt her climax his body went into overdrive as her heat swelled him and milked him like a gentle machine propelled by nothing more than mutual need.

But it wouldn’t end there. The storm had just begun to settle when she raised her head. Rotating her hips on him, she said, “Anything that feels this good should become a habit, or maybe it has to do with the perfect fit. What do you think?”

“I think you’re in the driver’s seat.”

She smiled, touched his cheek, then bent and kissed him. “Care to take another spin around the block? By the feel of things, you’re up for it. Objections?”

“I can’t think of any.”

She was right, they were a perfect fit in more ways than one. And she was right about something else, too. Lightning did strike twice, and this time the storm raged for an hour.

Jaz wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her to the bed and tucked her in. She had partied hard, as they say, only it hadn’t been on too much wine. The truth was she’d gorged herself on too much of a good thing, and Ash Kelly was that good thing.

She wasn’t going to get all starry-eyed and crazy. They’d had sex. Great, thunderstorm sex, and she was grateful to Ash for that, and so much more.

She was beginning to feel that if there was a way to fix this, he would find it.

“Need anything?” he asked as he covered her with the sheet.

“No.”

“Okay. You rest, and I’ll be back soon.”

“Where are you going?”

“Out for a smoke. I won’t be gone long. When I get back, if you’re still awake, we’ll talk.”

“Want to give me a hint about what so I can start preparing? My memory isn’t too reliable, remember?”

He bent and kissed her. “I think you know more than you realize. It’s up to me to ask the right questions. Trust me.”

Trust me
.

A few days ago she would have rejected that offer. No, a few hours ago. But now it was something she wanted, as much as she wanted to believe that there was some way for her to repair the damage she’d done to the SDECE.

She fell asleep the minute her head hit the pillow, and with it came a number of disjointed dreams—beginnings with no ends, and ends that had no foundation.

She was in a chair, her wrists strapped down, and her ankles manacled with iron. The room was bright, and the voice…it kept badgering her.

“No more,” she pleaded, then moaned because the bright light hurt her eyes. She wanted the voice to go away and leave her alone. But it was always there, like a record being replayed over and over again.

She fought the dream, then succumbed to the face behind the voice—a face of an animal with unnatural eyes. The face, the voice, the parroting phrases.

“No more, Cyrus. Stop it, please, you’re killing me. No more. Please, no more. Not again. No, don’t do that again. Not that… Oh, God, please!”

“Jaz? Jaz, wake up.”

She jerked awake, and when she saw Ash seated beside her she sat up quickly. She felt as if she’d just run a mile, and her chest was heaving with each breath she took.

“I fell asleep.”

“Understandable. You’re exhausted. I take it you were dreaming about Cyrus. You mentioned his name.”

“He was doing it again.”

He stroked her hair away from her face. “Doing what?”

“He keeps saying the same thing over and over. Making me repeat it.” She grabbed her head. “If I get it wrong…”

“What happens if you get it wrong?”

“He hurts me.”

“How does he hurt you?”

“I’m strapped in a chair, and there are all these wires. They’re taped all over me. If I don’t repeat the letters in the right order the wires hurt.”

“Electric shock.” He swore, then stood and walked away. When he turned around, he said, “Tell me about the letters.”

“I don’t remember them, but that’s crazy. I know them. I know I do.”

Jaz shivered and Ash sat back down and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry,” he said.

She looked up at him. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“Cyrus called it ‘antiterrorist conditioning’.”

“There’s been some studies done on regenerating agents. It’s a process of pulling old data out and replacing it with new information. In order for us to know if that’s what we’re dealing with here, I’m going to have to get you back to the agency as soon as possible.”

She pushed away from him. “I can’t go back to the SDECE.”

“Then I’ll take you to Onyxx.”

“Onyxx is NSA.”

“I know.”

“I thought you said you were working for the SDECE.”

“I am now, but I was NSA a week ago.”

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s not important. The important thing is to get you into the hands of someone who knows how this regeneration works.”

She shook her head. “No. I won’t be a guinea pig in some laboratory again.”

“I understand how you feel, but—”

“How could you? You have no idea what I went through. Hell, I don’t even remember half of it.”

“Once I find the disk, we’ll—”

“The one I can’t remember stealing.” Jaz felt like her entire world was coming apart. “I would never commit treason.”

He stood. “But you did, honey. You just don’t remember doing it.”

Jaz buried her face in her hands. Suddenly, she realized something, and she brought her head up slowly. “That’s your mission? Recover the disk I stole, and then what?”

He hesitated and that’s when she knew what his answer was going to be.

“Recover the disk data, and…you.”

“Then that’s why I’m here. You need me to find the disk.”

“The disk isn’t intact anymore. The minute you stole it it started to self destruct. On top of that it was encrypted. The SDECE thinks it vaporized before it could be decoded. It could be the case. There hasn’t been any terrorist activity directed at them. But Stillman thinks it’s still out there. Is it?”

“How do I know? I can’t even remember stealing it.”

“Salavich is a decoder. You’re here with Filip. Those odds are hard to refute.”

“Is Stillman your commander now?”

“Yes.”

“Then call him and let me talk to him,” Jaz suggested.

“Not a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s written you off as a traitor, and he’ll send someone after you if I refuse to bring you in.”

“And you’re refusing?”

“At the moment, yes.”

All of her trust in Ash Kelly suddenly died. “You’ve been playing me from the beginning.”

“No.” He came back and sat on the edge of the bed. “In the beginning I thought you were Allegra Nightingale.”

“You lied to me.”

“I never lied.”

“You think I’m a traitor just like Stillman does. And Chanler.”

“You don’t believe that. You know what I think. I just can’t prove it at the moment. I’m not going to sell you out, or turn you over until I have all the facts.” He reached out to touch her, but she backed away.

“You’re going to have to trust me, Jaz. I’m all you’ve got.”

“And what if you don’t find the data on that disk?”

“I’ll find it.”

“Not if I can’t remember what I did with it.” She was so frustrated she wanted to scream. Softly, she said, “Either way, I’ll still be a traitor in the eyes of the SDECE. If you bring me back, the best I can hope for is that they’ll kill me quick, but they won’t. They’ll lock me away.”

He was back on his feet again, this time pacing the room. He was becoming as frustrated as her now. “It’s a mess, but like I said, I’m working on it.”