“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” Though there was a catch in his voice as he said it.
“Yes, and you had permission then. I don’t recall issuing you an invitation this time.” Nor would she ever issue such an invitation. Not again.
“I got your invitation, sweetbabes,” he said. The door opened to the shower stall, forcing her to open her eyes. “I got your invitation when you sent the email. So, no matter what you’re doing or what you’re into, I’m here. It’s you and me. We’ll take care of it. I’ll make sure your mission gets completed. Then, you and I are going to have a talk.”
“A talk? At ten paces?”
He didn’t answer her, merely took hold of her jaw, then with the slightest pressure, opened her mouth before he closed his lips on hers. She shouldn’t have responded. It shouldn’t have even made her feel anything. But suddenly, every nerve ending in her came alive. He sought entrance with his tongue, the swipe of it along hers a demand for attention.
Bracing her wet hands to his chest, she gripped him closer. He dragged her from beneath the water and pushed her against the wall before continuing his slow sensual assault of her mouth.
When he finally let her up for air, she could barely catch her breath, but he wore a Cheshire’s grin. “Yes, m’lady. I received my invitation, and I wanted to RSVP.” He touched a finger to her lips once before withdrawing from the bathroom entirely. Addison ducked back underneath the water, shivering—not from the cold, but from the contact. She ran a hand over her chest and realized the tape was gone, as was the thumb drive.
“You son of a bitch.”
Chapter 4
Holding the tape covered thumb drive in his hand, Sam made it all the way to the cockpit and sealed the door before she realized what his goal had been. Having spied it secured to her body—damn, what a body—he’d taken his chances. It was totally worth it for the kiss. It was even more worth it to discover she was nowhere near as immune to him as she wanted to pretend.
The hammer of her fist striking the cockpit door reverberated through the metal. Henry lowered his sunglasses and slanted a look toward him. Sam waved his attention back to the controls.
“Sorry, no one home,” he replied. He pulled out his laptop and inserted the thumb drive. The sooner he figured out what Addy had gotten herself caught up in, the sooner he could get the problem solved, and they could get on to more important matters. Them.
“Open this damn door, Sam.” Her emphasis on his name flatlined. Oh, he’d definitely touched a nerve.
“Promise not to shoot me?” he asked, not moving from the seat. The laptop booted, and he located the thumb drive easily enough. It demanded an encryption key to access, and his machine fired up a warning. The thumb drive had a security protocol. His encrypted laptop launched a code to box the thumb drive’s malicious program. They were beginning to either rewrite his hard drive or send a transmission. Fortunately, his machine wasn’t on a network, and the Wi-Fi was completely turned off. No such luck for them.
“No.”
“Sorry, then, luv, on that side you stay. Make yourself comfortable. Get yourself something to eat. We’ve got a few hours of flight left.”
“You son of a bitch,” she swore. Her fist slammed against the door again. Perhaps she needed a drink.
“Your favorite bottle of wine is chilling in the fridge. How about a glass or three? It might help take the edge off.”
“I hate you.” Three little words spoken in anger shouldn’t hurt as much as these did. He let it go, however, because he knew she was frustrated and he was the source of her frustration.
Served her right. When she asked for his help, she got all of it, not just the cherry-picked pieces she chose. Once his machine completed securing of the compromised thumb drive, he initiated a decryption program to let him get at the files. It took an hour, but he finally freed one file and began to read.
“Well, I’ll be a monkey with donkey balls.” The Earl of Bonneville had gotten himself into a spot of trouble. More than that, it looked like he might be profiteering off terrorist activities all across the globe.
Reading deeper, however, Sam’s blood began to run cold.Red Wolf. He hated that fucking name. He knew exactly who that bastard was—same bastard who’d sent Addy running in the direction of MI6 in the first place. When she had first been approached, she turned them down. A short while later, her parents died.
Correction—her parents had been murdered. The only evidence they managed to gather pointed to an international terrorist financier named Red Wolf. Why he wanted her parents dead, or what it had to do with Red Wolf’s business, remained undetermined. It was one of the few open case files from his days at MI6. The case hadn’t been assigned to him, but he had taken it on himself—all in the effort to ease the pain of one very cool and controlled young woman.
He dug deeper. The Earl of Bonneville was deep in the weeds on this one. Every shred of evidence on this thumb drive would guarantee him no less than several life terms imprisonment. They might even revive him after shooting him to kill him twice.
If he wasn’t already on someone’s hit list.
Sam leaned back in the pilot’s seat and rubbed the spot between his eyes. Addy wasn’t the only one who was tired. He hadn’t slept since he’d gotten her message. He hadn’t had a drink, either.
At the moment, he wasn’t sure which lack was worse. Taking a deep breath, he centered himself. He had to divorce from all emotion and put on his professional hat. Whatever else came out of this trip, he knew exactly what Addy was looking for. According to this file, the Earl of Bonneville was a close personal friend of Red Wolf, in addition to being in bed with him.
One of the notes speculated that the Earl might actuallybeRed Wolf himself. The ages didn’t line up, nor did the timeline, but Sam would have to do more research to verify that theory. Either way, it was the closest to Red Wolf he’d ever come, and it might actually be the closest she’d ever come.
Decision made, he scanned the rest of the files before shutting the laptop and setting it down. He glanced at his watch and then at the controls. They had another hour or so in the air. Hopefully, Addy was taking advantage of the time to sleep. He could hardly get off the plane without going past her, and she was dangerous, even without the gun. He needed time to formulate the best plan. Addy might be the most professional agent he’d ever worked with, but even she had her weak spots.
Clark was one.