Aftershocks (26 page)

“Which brings me to you.” Henricksen motioned to Zoe. “Why did you call me now?”

She stuck her hands under her thighs and stared at her knees. “We’re getting close. It was possible Carling no longer had the totems, but if he does, I won’t be able to keep Pat at bay anymore. I wanted to make sure you were fully informed of what was happening so…so you wouldn’t think I was cooperating unlawfully with him,” she rushed, still not looking at anyone.

“Without telling us,” Grant pointed out. Stone shot him a look, but Grant ignored it. “We’d have appreciated a heads up, Zoe.” His tone came out harsher than he meant. It was less about not telling them than it was about her lack of trust. Now he had an inkling how Stone must have felt.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you.” She stood again and faced him. “I was going to when we met up in the ballroom.”

“But you’re not alone in this. You had to know we wouldn’t let—”

“Let what?” She held out her arms, less cowed now, more intense. “If I got in trouble, so would you. Accomplices. It’s better to at least keep the FBI in the loop. Which was what I intended.” She spun on her heel. “I really didn’t know you’d come out here.”

Henricksen shrugged. “Like you said. You’re close.”

His caginess told Grant more than words would have. The agent was also concerned about what Zoe would do. Or maybe about what would be done to Zoe. He had some investment here, but Grant wasn’t sure what it was. Coming out here on his own time, without agency resources? He was going to keep an eye on this guy.

“So what’s the plan now?” Stone asked her. “Are you sure Carling still has them?”

“Yes, he described some things he has that he thought I’d like. One of them was definitely the totems.”

“What did he say about them?” Henricksen asked.

“Not much. He hinted at the legend but said he’d tell me the story when he showed them to me.” She frowned. “He described them as not worth much themselves, but that the legend elevated their value. Even so, why are so many people willing to come after them?”

“Near as we can tell,” Henricksen answered, “it’s a treasure thing. Hunters aren’t looking for the score so much. They want enough money to keep them hunting, but it’s more about the cachet of the find. Being famous in that world. One of the people we talked to said their family had kept an eye out for them for decades, which of course would predate your kidnapping and Rhomney and Thomashunis’s first involvement.”

“They’d been looking for a while, too,” Zoe said. “But they don’t want them for the same reasons.”

“No.”

Since they all knew or at least suspected why that was, no one said more.

“When are you supposed to go over there?” Grant asked her.

“Tomorrow for brunch. He’s sending a car at ten-thirty.”

“You’re not going alone.” Stone straightened and looked down at Zoe, his resolve clear. “I’ll go with you.”

“Hold on.” Grant stepped forward. “I can protect her better. You know that.”

“I don’t know that.” His blue eyes latched on to Grant’s, and he understood what made him an effective attorney. “But it’s beside the point. I fit in better. We’ve been a couple for years, and Carling’s world is my world.”

“Not quite,” Henricksen broke in. “He’s new money, still struggles to feel like he’s a part of the elite. He’s as likely to resent you as feel comfortable with you.”

“I still fit there better than he does.”

“I fit in just fine tonight,” Grant argued. “What are you going to do if he has ulterior motives? If Pat and Freddie have him on the hook? You’re not equipped to handle that.”

“That’s an important point,” Henricksen conceded. “More importantly, if Carling tries anything with these two, they’ll need
you
on the outside.” He met Grant’s eyes, and he understood. The agent’s resources were limited. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t get authorization for surveillance on Carling. Which meant the three of them were still on their own.

“All right.” Grant tensed his jaw at the look of gratification on Stone’s face. “Zoe, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking we get in the car, and when we show up and Carling asks who he is, I tell him it’s my fiancé and he doesn’t mind that I brought him, does he? He’s too polite to say anything but no. We go in, eat—”

“No,” Grant and Henricksen said together.

“You make sure you see the artwork first. Eating is dangerous,” Grant added. “He could drug or poison you. It’s better to convince him you’re eager to see his collection, then, before the meal is served, you fall ill and get out of there.”

Zoe looked skeptical, but Stone nodded. “What else?”

Grant relaxed. Stone could take direction. He wasn’t going to be macho and act like he could lead this thing, and that made Grant feel a lot better.

They hashed out details and addressed what-ifs until midnight. Henricksen promised a communications system for their use, even if he couldn’t officially be involved at this point, only authorized to gather information and assess. He’d have it by nine the next morning.

As they planned, Stone got cozier and cozier with Zoe, ending up on the bed with her braced against his shoulder, yawning. When Grant and Henricksen left, Stone stayed. Grant suspected he had more than planning for tomorrow in mind.

The hell of it was, Grant couldn’t blame him. He couldn’t use it to spur his own plan to woo Zoe—not that he really had one. It was truly a case of letting the better man win.

And Grant suspected the better man wasn’t going to be him.

* * *

Kell knew he should go to his own room now. His right arm, the one Zoe leaned against, had stopped tingling about ten minutes ago, but he didn’t want to move. It felt like months since he’d held her like this. She was lost in thought, probably working out how they’d handle tomorrow, maybe thinking about what Henricksen had said and leaned on Kell out of fatigue and maybe habit. But he didn’t care. He let her, quietly inhaling her scent, soaking in her warmth, thinking about the smooth skin of her shoulder inches away from his mouth.

He should be conflicted. The secrets, outright lies, and destruction of trust—all of that had been a dragging weight since he got here. But right now, he couldn’t feel any of it. Jealousy had rooted deep, making him think of all the reasons he’d been with her in the first place. How much he still loved her, despite everything.

After a few moments when Zoe didn’t move or speak, he lowered his head and drifted his lips across that skin. Goose bumps erupted and she gave a tiny shiver. He pressed his mouth harder, against her neck, and touched her with his tongue. Her head tilted a fraction and she eased into his body. Relief and need flooded him. He twisted her in his arms, his mouth sliding over her neck and up. When he captured her mouth it parted immediately, letting him in, and he pressed deep but kept it slow. If he pushed too hard, too fast, she’d remember her guilt and shut him down.

But God, it had been so long, and she smelled so good, and his hands tightened on her back and pulled her against him as best he could while they were both sitting. She made a little noise in the back of her throat and he grunted, gripping the back of her neck, stroking his fingers down below the edge of her dress. His tux trousers drew tight and he stood, drawing Zoe up without breaking the kiss, and she let him.

His brain started to fuzz out. Zoe’s tongue stroked into his mouth. She went up on her tiptoes, pressing closer. Kell thrust a hand up into her hair, tugging until the pins loosened and it tumbled down over his arm. The zipper tab of her dress tickled his other hand. He twisted his fingers to grasp, started to pull…

And he stopped. Zoe dropped to her heels and slowly broke the kiss, staring up at him with those gorgeous eyes that churned with a dozen emotions. He suddenly felt like a cad for even considering making love with her right now.

“Kell,” she murmured, regret dominant in her voice.

“I know.” He forced a smile and rubbed her shoulders, wishing her skin wasn’t so damned silky. “Get some sleep, Zo. We need to be at full speed tomorrow.”

She made a face. “You should talk. You and Grant haven’t slept in two days.”

He felt his face go blank when she mentioned Grant. He wanted to hate the guy who was pulling his fiancée from him, but so far, the only reason he’d given to hate him was how much he cared about Zoe.

He said goodnight and waited outside her door, listening to her engaging all the locks before he walked to his own room. Not that all the locks had helped last night. With Zoe on the other side of the wall, he wasn’t sure sleeping would be any easier tonight.

He lay in his soft bed, listening to the silence occasionally broken by voices in the hall or doors opening and closing. He doubted he’d be able to detect anyone suspicious just by ear. Maybe Grant could. He was on the other side of Zoe, closer to the elevator. And he obviously had training in stuff like that. Kell didn’t care if the other guy’s ability to save Zoe gave him an edge, as long as he saved her. He had a fight ahead of him, to rebuild their relationship, but he could be civilized about it. That was
his
edge.

Kell sighed and rolled over, forcing his eyes closed. Sometimes being civilized sucked.

Chapter Twelve

Zoe leaned against her locked door like a primetime drama heroine, her chest heaving and her insides trembling. She held up a hand, expecting it to shake just as hard, but it looked steady. Such a liar.

Why had she been remembering Kell’s kisses as
tender?
That one was anything but. His hunger had only been half of what rattled her. He’d been so in control, as if afraid to spook her. Or maybe afraid to encourage her. So much held under the surface…if he’d unleashed it, she’d have drowned in him.

She got ready for bed in a daze, unable to stop thinking about both kisses and wishing neither had happened. After managing to fall sleep with the help of a tiny bottle of vodka from the minibar, she woke determined to stop giving Grant-the-man and Kell-the-man so much attention. It distracted from the mission. Nothing could be resolved until the totems were retrieved, so she’d put all her focus on that and make them do the same.

Her plan went to hell as soon as they gathered in Grant’s room to mike up and she remembered that Kell was going in as her fiancé. It was going to be weird to act the way they’d naturally been, for it to be pretend, and…oh, no. She looked down at her left hand. Will Carling hadn’t seen a ring on it last night. She was sure he’d noticed and probably wouldn’t have been as open and flirtatious if she’d been wearing it.

But Kell stopped her in the small foyer and lifted her hand. “I thought you should put this back on.” He slid the engagement ring over her finger. It winked up at her, and her hand suddenly felt more normal. Odd, since she’d been without it almost as long as she’d worn it. The glitter blurred and prismed, and she blinked back moisture. “Thanks,” she murmured, her voice husky. She ran a finger over the gem. She’d been so wrong, thinking Grant knew her better than Kell did, just because she hadn’t told him everything.

She looked up to find both men watching her. A flush surged up from her feet and made her scalp tingle. She had to stop doing this.

“All right, we need to hurry now.” Henricksen held up a tiny button-like device attached to a strip of paper. “These are the comms. It sticks just inside your ear. You don’t want to touch it after it’s placed. Dislodging it can drop it into your ear, and I don’t want to have to go digging.” He set down the strip on a black cloth laid out on the table and indicated four slightly larger circles. “These are the mikes. They attach on your chest, below the collarbone, so you’ll have to wear shirts that cover them.”

Grant would be staying outside Carling’s property, and Kell already had on a button-down dress shirt under a sport coat. Zoe’s dress was a soft, light-green wraparound that she’d shoved into the bottom of her bag before she flew to the Keys. She’d wanted to cover every wardrobe contingency. And, luckily, it had a boat neck that covered where the mike would be.

But… “What about heartbeat? Won’t that interfere?”

“They’re directional, so no, the heartbeat won’t be picked up.”

“Do we have to do anything to activate them?” she asked.

Henricksen shook his head. “They’ll be on continuously. And there’s a strong filter, so covering it with your hand won’t block your voice. We’ll hear everything.”

“Thanks for the warning.” Not that she expected to have private conversations while she was in Carling’s house, but it was good information to have.

Grant stood to the side, his expression wry, his arms folded. “This is pretty advanced equipment for the FBI.”

Henricksen flicked him a glance. “I know a guy.”

“Wait.” Zoe held up a hand. Her knowledge of this stuff all came from fiction. She’d never have known this wasn’t standard issue. “Why do we get the good stuff?” To her and to Kell, the situation was life-altering. But in the big picture it meant very little. Pat and Freddie weren’t terrorists, they didn’t threaten huge numbers of people or economic stability. She didn’t want Henricksen getting in trouble because she’d dragged him into this.

“Relax,” he said. “They’re prototypes, and my friend wanted a real-world test. I can’t use them on sanctioned events because the risk of failure is deemed too high.”