He would have bugged anyone’s room, Marie told herself.
Dimitru’s distrust had nothing to do with her.
But as she and Malcolm settled for the second time, she got a funny feeling she might be lying to herself…and, by default, lying to Malcolm. She wasn’t afraid to lie. She’d done it before to protect her family. She would do so now if it protected Malcolm from the likes of Dimitru.
Malcolm couldn’t be held responsible for things he didn’t even know about.
“I’m going to make a quick phone call to Benson over at West Coast Security,” he said, startling her out of her reverie and making her look up at him. He sounded tired. “Then I’ll get a shower.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t go anywhere. And be ready to talk when I get out. Got it? Stay,” he said, pointing at her.
She barked, which made him roll his eyes as he turned away, his shoulders way more slumped than she’d ever seen. Afraid she’d brought on his fatigue, she sighed and pulled out her phone.
“Hi, Uncle Bert,” she said when her uncle picked up.
“Marie, Bună ziua. Ce mai faci?”
“I’m fine. Excited to see you.”
“I’ve been following you on that phone thing you showed me. My word, isn’t it clever? I can turn my phone on, and voila, there you are. A little dot on the phone. If we’d had that when—” He cut himself off, but she knew he was thinking about her parents on the road the night they’d died. “Anyway. It’s a good thing, because I saw you were at Vladimir’s house today. I liked knowing you left.”
Marie grinned, grateful for her uncle’s concern. It was still weird he was tracking her, but that was part of their deal until this thing with Dimitru was finished. “I like knowing you’ve got my back, but you have to stay out of it this time, Uncle Bert. Promise me. I’ll take care of the armband.”
His silence wasn’t reassuring.
“Please,” she begged. “I’ve got this.”
“Yes.”
“Thank you. And I promise, before the weekend is over, I’ll have the whole armband thing figured out.” The water in the bathroom turned off. “I’ve gotta go.”
“See ya soon, baby.”
Marie smiled at his endearment and the excitement curled around those words.
It had been too long, almost a year since Dimitru stole the armband from her uncle, and a good nine months since Uncle Bert’s short visit before she’d gone with Hawk Elite to Qatar. He’d insisted on coming out to North Carolina to see her, and she hadn’t had the heart to discourage him from coming. Not when it had been so close to the anniversary of her parents’ deaths. “Te iubesc, Uncle Bert.”
As she hung up, she heard whistling from the bathroom, and it stopped her. Despite the carefree sound of whistling, she knew Malcolm was under pressure to do well, to prove the gunshot wound was a thing of the past and he was working at a hundred percent.
And she knew he was suspicious of her employment with Hawk Elite…
After this afternoon, he was probably ready to fire her, even if he didn’t have the clout to do so.
She sighed. Twenty-four hours. That was how much time she had left.
The worst of it all was this feud between the two families had gone on for so long that she had always been fairly certain the armband in her uncle’s possession would be reacquired at some point in the future. It had gone back and forth four times in her life. From the Dimitru family to hers the year she was born, back to the Dimitru family the year her parents died…
Albert had exacted revenge and reacquired it during her sophomore year of high school, and then a year ago, Dimitru had gotten his grubby hands on it again.
“Have you figured it out?”
She sucked in a breath and turned, annoyed with herself for being lost in thought, for the past creeping up on her and smothering her in self-doubt. She rolled her shoulders, shook it off, and glanced Malcolm’s way. Only to be stopped by him in nothing but a towel around his waist. He had tattoos covering his right shoulder, arm, and partly down his side, and he made a part of her ache inside to see him. But it was the grisly scar over his chest that had her heart thumping double time.
“Are you doing that on purpose?” she asked, lifting a brow, ignoring his question.
“What?”
“Walking around half-naked. Kissing me, but not really kissing me to kiss me. Acting protective and macho.”
His lips twitched.
“What?” she asked.
“I have done all of those things on purpose. Yes. Well, except the macho part. Do you think it’s macho? And by macho, do you mean something bad?”
She scowled.
“So,” he said, redirecting her back to his inquiry, “have you figured it out?”
“Figured out what?” she asked.
“What to tell me.” Malcolm walked by her. He smelled good. In her head, she had to admit, she’d wanted him for a long time, and despite the disappointment of how this business trip was going so far, she didn’t mind she’d ended up with him…instead of one of the other guys.
“I’ll tell you everything I can.”
“Everything.”
“I can,” she added with a shrug. “I’m sorry.”
He stared at her for a minute then lifted a finger and wagged it in a circle.
She huffed and turned around, even if she didn’t believe he was modest, and listened as he rummaged through his bag. The soft swish of clothing and then, “I’m done.” He’d pulled on a pair of skinny jeans and a flannel. He was dragging a laptop from his familiar messenger bag and an iPad and headphones, wireless mouse.
“Jiminy Cricket, is that one of our network boxes?”
“I don’t like hooking up to open networks.”
“And I thought we were going to get a good night’s sleep and then do a job tomorrow.”
“When you say a job, it makes me think we’re planning the next bank robbery.” In minutes, he had all his stuff working and was accessing the same screens she saw every day in his office back at headquarters.
She laughed nervously. “Why?” She walked to the window and stood off to the side to glance out of it, then turned to look at him. In work mode, he was bent over the desk, yet, amazingly, as if he’d trained himself, there was still a straight line from his neck to the small of his back.
He had great posture. Which was a weird thing to be attracted to, she knew.
He looked over his shoulder, piercing her with those crazy, intense eyes. “Talk.”
“I think we should go in and steal his collection tonight,” she said, going for point blank. Hoping to make him laugh? Which he didn’t. Instead, his chair creaked as he turned fully toward her, his elbows resting on the arms.
“Just kidding,” she finished, inwardly rolling her eyes, wondering if she would ever get a good laugh out him. They were few and far between, and definitely never when she was around. “Did you get a hold of Dimitru’s former security company?”
He scowled. “Not funny. And no. Left a message.”
“You know this feels like a cluster, and we haven’t even done anything yet. Stupid dinner, so he could show off. Why?”
“Lots of guys need to show off.”
She laughed. “Like overcompensating for something much less impressive?” A blush rose on her cheeks as soon as the words were out of her mouth.
Malcolm’s mouth twitched and he cleared his throat. “Or something. Guys like that, with lots of money and a need for power—” He broke off and stood to pace the length of the room, toward the bathroom and back again. “I really don’t like to be kept in the dark, Marie.”
Shit. When he spoke, point blank, she felt trapped. As much stealing as she’d done in her life, she’d left dishonesty behind. And if it weren’t for Uncle Bert and this feud with the Dimitru family, she wouldn’t be here right now.
Honesty.
Stick to the truth as much as possible. Uncle Bert’s voice rang in her head.
“Marie.” The low, threatening tone of his voice sent butterflies through her stomach.
“Vladimir Dimitru isn’t a complete stranger,” she finally said.
His eyes slowly closed on a long, indrawn breath, and he leaned back in the chair, his hands automatically following the movement and resting on top of his head. “You don’t say.”
“I’ve never met him,” she continued. “He doesn’t know me. It’s… Um, our families have had this thing going between us for over a hundred years.”
“Like backyard barbecues?”
“Ha. Uh, no. More like a feud.”
“Aw, geez.” Malcolm rose and went to close the curtains, paused before they closed all the way, then, clearing his throat, jerked them shut.
Okay, that was weird.
She frowned, wondering what was behind curtain number one.
“So, you’re engaged in a centuries-old feud? What the hell for?”
There was no help for her curiosity, so she went to the window.
“You might—” he started, but she looked out, her eyes immediately drawn to the same building she’d seen from their previous room. Light filled the glass-topped ceiling, revealing an extremely naked, embracing couple on what had to be the living room couch.
Pulling the curtains shut, she sucked in a breath and let it out on a laugh. “Well”—she cleared her throat—“interesting.”
He snickered, which surprised her. He was usually so stoic. And it softened her, his need for honesty. “Look. My uncle asked me to check on the Dimitru clan, which led me to Hawk Elite last year—” Only a partial lie.
“Which led you to stalking Hawk like a thief in the night, you mean. Do I even need the word ‘like’ in there? You failed, except you caught Hawk’s attention, and he’s got this soft spot for down-on-their-luck strays like you, so, all of a sudden, you have a job.”
“He had a need for someone who could acquire things, who could get in and out of small places.” Her argument landed on disbelieving ears, though. “Are you questioning Hawk’s leadership?”
“No.” The one word struck her like a physical blow. Malcolm took a step toward her, the look of anger in his eyes making her step back. He halted and scowled. “I don’t like being in the dark. You’re keeping me in the dark. I would never question Hawk. It’s you I don’t trust.”
Her shoulders fell. She deserved that. He thought he knew her. They hadn’t met in the best of circumstances. If he really knew her—
She cut off the thought. He would still only see her as the thief.
But they had to work together for one more day, so she cleared her throat and approached him. His gaze turned wary as she took his hand. The touch shocked her; his hands were filled with tension, but they were warm, large, and unexpectedly soft in her own. She opened his palm and ran her fingertips across the lines there, remembering how her mother used to do the same to her when she was a kid, pretending to read her future.
Her mother hadn’t read the loss of herself from Marie’s life, though. Marie’s throat tightened on the unexpected emotional throwback.
“I swear to you I mean no trouble for this job tomorrow.” Her insides hurt a little, but maybe this was best, because she’d known all along, as soon as she got the armband back, that she would have to leave Hawk Elite. “When we’re done with this job, if it means that much to you, I’ll leave Hawk Elite.”
He closed his fist and pulled it out of her grasp, leaving her bereft and decidedly unsettled. But her heart took his silence as a sign of hope.
Stupid.
***
Fog covered the street as the slow-moving van drove by. His heart pounded, beating against his sternum and making the scar on his chest ache. The eerie silence shifted as the sound of a helicopter thumped through the air. The full-on drum of rotors vibrated his innards and then faded as it flew over.
Silence.
Through the fog, down the incline, his team rushed toward him, a young, vivid, seeing Hawk waving him to turn around and run. Waving him back, waving and opening his mouth in a silent command.
The ground shook beneath him, and he turned as the guys reached him, but legs like concrete weights moved too slowly.
The chatter of the automatic rifle ripped the silence and pain sliced through his back—
“Malcolm!”
Malcolm shot up off the pillow, stopping short of head-butting Marie, who reared back. He kicked at the covers strapping his legs down. It seemed like an eternity to get loose. Finally, his feet were on the floor, and his head was clearing. “Fuck.”
“You okay?”
“Fine.” His short answer wasn’t fair to her, but he needed a minute. He gripped the edge of the bed. It had been a long time since a nightmare had cut his sleep short. Checking his watch, he found it was only four in the morning. “Sorry to wake you.”
She stood, arms crossed over her stomach, and bit her lip. “It’s okay.”
An edge of humiliation cut into his pride. He got up, feeling the ick of the night sweats that came with revisiting his past.
“Can I do anything for you?” Her sweet, husky voice sent a completely different feeling through his internal organs. He was obviously a glutton for punishment. He couldn’t help—or his body couldn’t help—being fucking attracted to lying, thieving women.
He stared at her as his world stopped tilting and the air conditioning cooled his skin.
But, words aside, she was different. He’d seen it during the mission overseas, as she’d kept her head during those tense moments and even put her life on the line for the team. He wouldn’t forget, ever. And maybe it was enough.
He shook his head, not liking the direction of those thoughts. “Gonna take a quick shower. Go back to sleep.” Her worried look had him stopping in front of her. “I’m fine. Really. The dreams are few and far between these days. It must be the new environment, the attack yesterday, Dimitru…” He shrugged. “Fucking something.”
Marie nodded, and her hand came out to touch him, but he stepped back, making the moment awkward. “I’m sorry. I just really need to shower.” And not touch you right now or I might explode.
The small bathroom held the toilet and shower, the space outside the door had the double-sink and counter space. Grabbing a towel and tossing it over the rack on the wall, he ran the water until it was scalding, shed his clothes, and stood under the spray. He squeezed his eyes as the rush of adrenaline faded. When his hands wouldn’t stop shaking, he braced them against the wall and let the water sluice down his back.
The last nightmare had been before their trip to the Middle East. Always the same scene. Sometimes a different gun. Sometimes, he’d only hear the report of a single shot, like it had been that day at headquarters when Cortez had ordered his men to take out Hawk Elite.
He’d thought the dreams were gone for good.
He’d gotten into a routine at work. He was stronger than he’d been even before being shot. With Emily on the team, he was getting more practice at the range and could shoot a group dead center.
This assignment with Marie was a test. He’d bet his next paycheck on it.
Stacy Hawkins worried. Hawk didn’t worry; he merely demanded the best.
Malcolm was at his best.
He wasn’t going to let Marie’s ulterior motives keep him from proving it.
“Malcolm.” Marie knocked hesitantly on the door before opening it. “You okay?”
This time he couldn’t bite her head off. He picked up the wrapped bar of soap and opened it. “Almost done. I’ll be out in a minute.”
With the washcloth, he quickly lathered up and then rinsed off. He shut off the water and reached for a towel. He squeezed his hair through it then dried off before wrapping the towel around his waist. When he came out of the bathroom, Marie was sitting on the sink with her legs crossed, her elbows on her knees.
She stopped him with a look. “You don’t have to be ashamed of what I’m sure is a fairly normal consequence of trauma.”
“I’m not ashamed.” He took a chance—no, he took a risk, seeing her like this, so incredibly open and waiting, and he set his hands down, one on each side of her. “I’m sorry I woke you. Worried you.”
“You didn’t—you don’t, Malcolm.” She lifted a hand and tangled her fingers through his wet hair. “But you make me want to touch you.”
“Why?” he asked, a little flabbergasted.
“You’ve been alone your whole life.” Her hand came down and rested over his heart. “So have I, but I remember what it’s like…”
He almost laughed. “You have good ol’ Uncle Bert.”
She stiffened. “I had my parents—”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He leaned back and placed his hands on her knees. “Are we going down this road, Marie?” he asked. “Because if I fucking touch you, there might be no stopping—”
Her eyes were wide with shock. “I…I didn’t— We work together. You don’t even like me.”
“I don’t trust you,” he said pointedly, raising a finger to her nose.
“So having sex with you would be…” She didn’t finish, leaving it open-ended.
He had to think as his heart began to pound. “Probably the stupidest thing you ever did,” he finally admitted.
“Not what I expected you to say,” she said quietly.
“I don’t make commitments, Marie. You have to know, if you want to go down the road to sex, this isn’t about any kind of stupid romance.” He had to force the words out. But he wouldn’t make a promise to her, especially not her. Felt too much like lying to a friend.
He wanted to avoid pitfalls, but he wanted her more.
He saw the uncertainty in her eyes…
And then he saw more, making him lean in and take her mouth with no reservations, because she wanted him too. No pity, no regrets, no promises.