Out of Sight (23 page)

"As long as you don't start singing the theme. Here we are. Look exhausted and thirsty."

"No problem. I won't even have to stretch my acting talen—Hell's bells," AJ said drolly as four men raced from the trees, pointing an interesting assortment of weapons at them. "Here we go again."

It was pretty easy to distinguish the good guys from the bad guys. The bad guys were the ones with all the weapons.

One wore a suit and looked hot, annoyed, and not in the least bit happy to see them. The rest of the men, looking no happier, wore dark pants and wilted white shirts.

All of the men, except for one, were dark and swarthy. They could've been any nationality from Arabic to Italian. Wherever they were from, and whatever their affiliation, there was something about them AJ didn't like. And that was enough for her.

She and Kane wouldn't be taking any chances. Walsh and his men had no form of communication with anyone at the hotel. They called meetings by word of mouth. Bush telegraph, just like the old days. Clearly these guys, whoever they were, hadn't been told of her and Kane's arrival, nor of their identity. Until they knew all the players in this little game, AJ knew they'd have to play their cards close to the chest.

"I don't like it when you're quiet," Kane whispered from the corner of his mouth. "It means you're thinking. That generally signals trouble."

She smiled, ignored him, and walked toward the men, putting a slight sway in her hips as she tried to keep eye contact with Mr. Suit. Which was difficult because he wasn't looking at her eyes.

"You stay right where you are until we check you out," he said grimly, his attention on her boobs. Slight accent. French. Which could mean anything. AJ cataloged his appearance. Short and stocky, running to fat—fleshy lips and small eyes. His suit must've cost a pretty penny, it fit over his belly as if custom-made. Italian shoes. French tie. Not an errand boy.

"Check us out?" AJ opened her eyes wide. "Are you crazy? It's three hundred degrees out here and we just walked hundreds of miles!" She leaned in and lay one dainty hand over the suit's arm. "Honey, if I don't get something to drink—preferably with lots of ice—I think I'm gonna faint."

"Fifty
miles," Kane corrected in a long-suffering voice, which gave AJ an indication of how he wanted this played.

"What's going on?" Kane asked the men reasonably. He looked about as aggressive as a basset hound. How he changed his entire demeanor by shifting his body and lightening the tone of his voice was something AJ was determined to study. He gave the appearance of the weakling everyone kicked sand on at the beach.

One of the men waved his weapon to indicate they be searched. Another peered down the driveway. "How did you get here?" European accent. Knew his way around the Ruger he held. Dead black eyes. Mean mouth. By the stains on his shirt, he'd been sweating for quite a while.

"Our car broke down," Kane said laconically. "We've been walking ever since, and brother, that's a damn hot, arduous walk. Can we put our hands down? I gotta tell you guys, this has been a long haul, and we're beat."

AJ kept a wary eye on a corn-fed, redheaded guy as he circled behind them. Kane gave no indication that there was anything untoward. In fact, he looked rather glazed and out of it, when seconds before AJ could've sharpened a pencil on his gaze. Damn. He was good.

The skinny redheaded guy with a painful-looking sunburned face started running his hands down AJ's torso from the back, with a hell of a lot more enthusiasm than necessary. "Hey!" She spun around and "accidentally" smacked him in the nose with her elbow. "Watch those hands!"

He rubbed his nose and gave her a wounded look. "Just searching you for weapons, ma'am." Midwestern accent. Nineteen if he was a day. He was the what-doesn't-fit-with-this-group-of-items? odd man out.

He wasn't going to find any weapons on her. Nor on Kane. Not anything he'd recognize as such, anyway. "And you thought you'd find them in my bra?" AJ turned and gave the guy in the suit a hard look. "Look, I have no idea what's going on. But we're absolutely zonked out, hot, dirty, thirsty, and I'm
way
beyond cranky. So if you don't mind, could we skip the pleasantries, check in, and discuss this over a drink?"

Suit walked down the wide steps. "Do you have a reservation?"

"Sure we do. Must be in the limo." AJ stared at him. "Didn't you hear us just say we
walked
fifty miles? We didn't even know this place existed. We spotted the oasis, and hey, lookit there, a pyramid hotel, too! How could w—"

"Calm down, honey." Kane patted her arm as if she were a small terrier.

AJ jerked her arm out of reach. "Don't 'calm down, honey' me, you… you
shyster
! You told me this shoot would be top-of-the-line
everything.
Makeup, hair, wardrobe. Luxury accommodation! You. Did. Not. Tell. Me. I. Would. Have. To. Walk. Fifty damn miles! My agent is going to hear about this. My lawyer will hear about this. The… the photographers guild people will hear about thi—"

"Everyone in Mesopotamia can hear you loud and clear," Kane said tightly. "Look, guys," he said to the men, who'd all backed up a step when she'd started her hysterical speech, "she's a bit high-strung. Can we get out of this heat and get her a room?"

"High-strung? You moron." She turned her big, wide eyes on the suit again and played to a rapt audience. "This guy got us stuck out there. In all that nothing. Now I want the biggest, best suite in the place," AJ said crisply to a tall skinny guy on the periphery of the group, who hadn't said a word for the duration, but was looking at her as if she were his last meal. She gave him a sweet smile and sighed inwardly as he almost fell down the steps in response. The near-tumble at least forced him to close his mouth.

"Send up a chilled bottle of Cristal, would you, sugar?" She turned to glare at Kane. Her tone hardened. "And my tab's on
you.
Since you refused to bring my suitcases with us, you may also find me something decent to wear."

"Where do you thi—"

"Just do it." AJ pushed through the men and made her way up the wide, white marble steps to the twenty-foot-high front doors, which stood open, Kane beside her. The doors were intricately carved with hieroglyphics and painted dramatically in gold, turquoise, and black, flanked on either side by thirty-foot palm trees in white marble planters taller than she was.

Inside was marginally cooler than outside. But not by much. No air-conditioning moved the still air. The three-story-high lobby was exquisitely decorated, although the colors were muted, as there were no lights on. But enough sunlight streamed through the doors to illuminate the turquoise and black carpets that stretched for what seemed like miles. At regular intervals along the white marble walls, forty-foot-high gilded, gem-encrusted replicas of sarcophagi lined the walls.

No expense seemed to have been spared in the building and decorating of the luxury hotel. It had clearly been built for presidents and kings and industry giants.

Or as a trap.

They all crossed the gargantuan entry and headed toward the registration desk. There wasn't a soul in sight. "Where is everyone?" she demanded, turning in a slow circle to stare at the men who'd followed her inside.

"You can't stay here," Mr. Suit told her. "The hotel isn't officially open yet."

"Oh, well," AJ said sweetly. "I'll just stay at the Holiday Inn next door, then."

"Miss…"

"Are there beds in the rooms?" AJ demanded.

"Yes—"

"Showers all working?"

"Yes—"

"And room service?"

He looked annoyed. "To a certain extent—"

"Then this hotel's open, honey, and we'll stay."

"We have a situation here, ma'am."

"We most certainly do." She waved both hands at her own attire. "And its going to get worse if I don't have a room in the next ten seconds."

The suit sighed and must have decided it would be easier to get her out of the lobby. "Only rooms available are on the fifth floor," he said, disgusted.

"Lead the way."

"The lift doesn't work."

Kane gave a long-suffering sigh. "Figures."

Two men were posted on each floor, just inside each exit door to the stairs. No way to lock any of the doors without electricity. The guards appeared to belong to whichever dignitary was on that particular floor. Kane wasn't ready to confront any of them. They were just doing their jobs. Probably as confused as everyone else in the hotel.

Let Walsh deal with the logistics of who was supposed to be where. He and AJ had to find and neutralize Raazaq.

After their twelve-hour hike, AJ wasn't quite as sparky by the time they got up five flights of stairs.

He pushed open the door to 506, and stood back, motioning with a flourish.
"Entre vous, mademoiselle."

Bugs?
she signed after walking in and glancing around.

Kane shrugged, signing back.
Probably not. Don't chance it.

"I'm going to take a shower." AJ wiggled her eyebrows. "Find me some food and clothes."

"Right, Your Highness." He indicated he was going to search the suite first.

She signed.
Want me to help
?

The large room would be easy to sweep, and Kane seriously doubted it was bugged. He shook his head.

After a brief hesitation, she went into the bathroom. A few seconds later he heard water running. Kane went to the ten-foot-high windows overlooking the back of the hotel. There was an Olympic-size covered swimming pool below, surrounded by empty loungers and lush vegetation. Armed men, at irregular intervals, patrolled the area. Clearly Raazaq wasn't afraid anyone would cause problems, otherwise his men wouldn't have let them come up without an escort. Arrogant bastard was that sure of himself.

There were over two hundred trained security personnel in the hotel. The best in the world for their particular duties. Yet Raazaq had neutralized them.

As Kane had suspected, the room didn't appear to be bugged. No need. It was clear Raazaq had effectively terrorized the guests, keeping them prisoners in their suites and unaware of what was going to happen next,

No one was going anywhere for the duration. After removing the television set, Kane dragged and shoved the unbelievably heavy Louis XIV armoire across the doorway—not much of a deterrent, but better than nothing.

Next he rummaged through the backpacks they'd tossed on the coffee table, and removed the various indistinguishable components of two weapons. He quickly assembled two good-size handguns, and lay them where they could be reached in a hurry.

Raazaq was waiting for something. What, Kane had no idea, but as long as everyone remained in their suites, he was reasonably sure they had a bit of time to clean up and scout around. Raazaq must believe the next move
was
his. By now the terrorist knew AJ was in residence. Perhaps he'd call for her.

Perhaps. Kane didn't like the idea of AJ meeting with Raazaq one bit, and the thought pissed him off.

But AJ was an operative. Being in Raazaq's presence was her reason for being here. Yet now that Kane knew her—damn it,
cared
about her—the thought that she'd be in danger was abhorrent to him. A powerful rush of protectiveness swamped him. He frowned as he stripped off his rank clothing on the way to the bathroom.

They were going to have to deal with this. After the mission.

He walked naked into the bathroom, and could tell by the way AJ avoided the stream of water from the gold shower-head as she lathered up that the water was cold. Too cold. He snapped open the clear shower door. He'd warm her up in a hurry.

Her smile slammed into his gut.

"Live with it," he growled, stepping through the chill curtain of water to get to her.

"Live with what?" She looked up, blinking water from her lashes.

"Need a hand?"

Her lightly tanned skin glowed, slick and shimmering, her fiery hair was darkened and clung to her wet back and shoulders as if painted there. She held out her hand and drew him closer. "I'd rather have a bit of warm water. Live with what?"

He reached for her with his other hand, swinging her body flush against him. Her skin felt cool and slippery. "Let's see if I can make you forget about warm water and questions, huh?"

He brought his mouth down on hers. She tasted soapy. Hot. Not cold at all. He bunched up her hair in one fist and tugged her head back, kissing the arched curve of her throat, the curve between neck and shoulder. He nipped at her earlobe with his teeth, made her squirm and moan when he ran the tip of his tongue along the swirls of her ear.

He wanted to devour her. To absorb her. Her body fit his like the missing piece of a puzzle. She curled one long, silky smooth leg around his thigh, rubbing herself against the painful ache of his erection, her arms about his neck as she returned the fury of his passion with her own.

He couldn't get close enough, and pushed her back, hard enough to elicit a little
"oomph"
of surprise, and sandwiched her between himself and the black and white mosaic wall. The hard tips of her nipples rubbed erotically against his chest as their bodies slipped and slid together. He saw her through a silvered sheet as cool water streamed over their heads.

Lorelei. Venus on the half shell. A Titian masterpiece come to life. Kane tangled his hands in her wet hair.

Her foot rubbed a maddeningly erotic pattern on his backside as she tried to pull him into her wet heat. She was determined, and she was strong. But he was more so. While their time together might be short, he wanted to give meaning to their lovemaking. He wanted to imprint himself on her. To claim and be claimed. Hell, to stamp his ownership. Christ. When had he become so medieval? Her long, slender fingers dug into his hair for purchase as he ravished her mouth, his body flattening hers against the wall.

"God," Kane said, lifting his head, coming up for air, breathing in the fragrance of her. "You feel so damn… good." His mouth captured hers again. Starving. To hell with it. Air was highly overrated.

Still lip-locked, he ran his hands through the wet and slippery tangle of her long hair, down the pure curve other arched throat. Then paused there, fingertips on the rapid pulse at the base of her throat—alive, vibrant.
His.

He skimmed his hands across the soft swells of her breasts, then slipped one arm around her waist. Wet skin slid across wet skin. She whimpered with need as he pinched the hard point of her nipple between his fingers, his mouth hungrily devouring hers until they were both breathless and panting.