Becca returned to the gala, met by Lucy’s expectant smile. After playing the Midsummer Serenade with the children, she then danced through the night in the arms of various handsome bachelors and grinning old coots, until 2:00 a.m., and then lingered in the background, watching couples leave the ballroom arm in arm and, finally, the cleaning crew sweep up the mess.
Jake arrived at 5:00 a.m. to bring her home, but instead, she asked him to drive her to Central Park, where he found a parking place near the Wollman Rink.
One skater occupied the rink so early in the morning. Must have snuck in, because it didn’t open to the public for hours yet. Becca snuggled on a bench, wrapping around her shoulders a blanket Jake pulled from the trunk. Good ole Jake; he had everything. She might have dozed in the fresh morning air about ten minutes, but mostly, she pondered the past few days.
She had lost something on this mission. The last bit of innocence. Her love for fear. And her desire for illicit liaisons. Did she crave a Zen session? Not really. There was only one person she really wanted, secrets and all. But they were not meant for each other.
An hour later, she sat across the table from Renee Dalton-Sinclair and Alan Burke. Sherri Grant sat at the end, her face scrubbed of makeup and her red hair pulled back into a perky ponytail.
Having come straight from the skating rink, Becca didn’t care if she looked like a survivor of yesterday’s Saks clearance sale and a herd of credit-card-wielding women. She wanted to get this debriefing over with.
There wasn’t much to say. She’d turn in her report detailing her expenses in Europe and her contact with Dimitri, Katarine and Louise.
Dimitri Nazarova was found in one of the ambassador suites, a bullet in his heart. No one stated who had killed him. Accusations against MI-6 could have far-reaching consequences. Dimitri’s dealings with the black market had led to many murders, including two British MI-5 agents. No one would miss him.
“Lester Price is clean,” Renee stated. “Katarine Veld nearly killed him to get the diamond. As for Louise Veld—good call, Becca. She’s being debriefed as we speak. MaryEllen Sommerfield is off the critical list and is expected to fully recover.”
MI-6’s involvement in the operation was left entirely unmentioned. Agent Dane’s name was not even muttered.
Becca fingered the pink silk purse, which sat in her lap. The fine texture reminded of her other life, the easy veneer of a socialite. So distant now. And yes, she did crave that side of her, for it provided, ultimately, an escape back to her mask.
She wanted to press her forehead to the table and close her eyes. Jake waited outside in the Hummer. A full eight hours of sleep was just steps away.
“Of course, we will keep our eyes and ears open for the sale of three flawless ten-carat diamonds,” Renee stated. “They may show up on the black market. What do you think, Becca?”
For some reason it didn’t feel right to condemn Dane. She knew him. He’d hand them in to evidence.
“I’m sure they’ll be filtered through the British treasury.” Yawning, then sighing, she nodded at Renee. “I thought we had what we needed? Uther Magnusson.”
“Yes. The Governess is pleased. But it has been determined that Uther destroyed all his computer files. The only files remaining are on the diamonds.”
“He can recreate the formula?”
“Of course, but it will take some time.”
In other words, we didn’t ask you to bring back the diamonds—but you should have, fool.
Renee held her gaze for a few moments before dismissing everyone and standing. Alan and Sherri filed out, Alan patting Becca’s shoulder as he passed her.
Becca remained in her chair.
“He reported to MI-6 this morning,” Renee said. She stood at the door, fanning the stack of FYI documents near her thigh. Becca didn’t look up. “That’s about as far as I want to take it. I’m not concerned over what Six wants or does with the diamonds, unless it involves me directly. If the Governess and the CIA want the data, they’ll have to contact Six directly.”
“Of course.”
“Take a few days off, Becca. Have Jake pamper you. Check in with me next week, okay?”
Becca nodded, and then found the words: “Thank you, Renee.”
The door closed and Becca laid her forehead on the table with a long sigh.
Adjusting her purse on her lap, she thought it felt a bit heavier than usual. The gun was lightweight titanium. She pulled open the zipper. What spilled out was not just a gun and a tube of Nina Ricci lipstick. The click, click, click on the table made her smile.
“In-sodding-credible,” she muttered.
All three of them. Ten carats each. Flawless. Two containing Uther’s code.
No matter what happens, I got your back.
Surrendering to giggles, Becca stood and shook her head. “Double-crossing arsehole.”
Though it was midmorning by the time Becca returned to her apartment, the rooms were dark, for the day was cold and a storm had touched down with heavy fat flakes.
Dropping her purse and coat in the kitchen, she didn’t bother to turn on the lights as she made her way back to the bathroom. She carried her gun; she’d clean it after a shower, and put it in the safe.
Unclasping the back of her dress, she pulled down the red silk to her breasts. Kicking off her high heels, she then padded into the bathroom.
The walls were tiled in small squares of recycled blue glass. The floor was highly polished, vanilla-colored epoxy resin. Citrus scented the air.
And then she noticed the shower was on.
Reacting instinctively, she crouched and thrust out her arms, gun aimed at the shower.
“In-sodding-credible,” a male voice said.
Dane? Of all the nerve!
Scampering over to the glass shower wall, Becca poked the gun inside and connected with flesh. “If you think you can sneak back into my life—naked…!”
Yes, completely naked, and not at all concealed by the clear glass that surrounded the huge unit. The door to the shower was open, and water splashed on the floor.
“Take it easy, love.” Dane raised his hands to his shoulders. The gun poked him hard in the temple.
“How did you get in?”
“Jake.”
“What?”
“He’s a cheeky fellow. I like him. Stand off, will you?”
Becca drew back the gun. Not about to back down herself, however, she remained at the shower door. Water sprinkled her front. “Why’d you give back the diamonds?”
“Because they were yours, love. You did all the work.”
“I thought MI-6 wanted the information?”
“And they have it. I had a chance to have the information copied from the brilliant stone before the ball. Now you and the CIA get the gems. A mutual agreement between the agencies. I suggested it would enhance goodwill relations.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did.”
Bloody— Cocky— Brit.
Jake had let him in? Why that—
“Care to join me?”
Becca crossed her arms and slowly dragged her eyes from his water-slicked pecs, over ripped abs and lower to a very nice—
Wet fingers reached out from the shower and gestured greedily. “Can you forgive me?”
“I’m not sure.” She shimmied and the dress fell to the floor. As naked as he, she still kept her distance. “You could have told me about the copy, and that you had no intention of leaving.”
“I didn’t know what my intentions were until you left me high and dry in the cab, love. I couldn’t fathom leaving the country. I had to figure a way to see you again. My God, woman, you are bloody—wow.”
Becca stepped into the shower. Catching the water from the stacked bronze jets that lined the wall every two feet, she tilted back her head and wet her hair. Hot water pulsed against her pores.
Slicking back her tresses and sliding her hands over the hardened tips of her breasts, she eyed her hungry Brit. Water splattered their bodies from all sides. It was as if they were standing in an open forest beneath a summer rain shower, except the water was warm and they’d lost their clothes.
She kissed Dane’s open mouth—a slippery connection. Just as their connection had been these past few days.
But he broke the kiss and groped for her trigger hand. “Could we do this without the weapon?” He claimed her gun and set it high on a shelf outside the glass walls.
Their bodies fit together. Hard and slick, with every muscle tensing as he moved, Dane pressed her against the tiled, blue-glass wall of the shower. Frenzied kisses seared her neck and shoulders, then her breasts.
“I couldn’t leave the country without one of those giggles,” he murmured. “If I may?”
Becca snaked her fingers through his wet hair and steadied herself by gripping a bronze bar to her right as he went onto his knees before her.
The man was good. He knew his way around a woman. No complaints; in fact, she’d call for an encore.
Score one point for high-maintenance chick getting together with the swanky Brit.
Giggles spilled over Becca’s lips as Dane stood to fit inside her.
“Amazing,” he said, with a nip to her ear as they moved in unison. “You’re in-sodding-credible, New York.”
She hugged him to her as hard as she could. “Not so bad yourself, swank.”