He unlocked the front door to his apartment slowly. The blinds were still closed from this morning—a habit he was breaking after tonight. Drawing his gun, he tipped the door open gently. Amber filled his lungs. At some point he should tell her that her perfume was becoming her biggest tell.
“Arabella,” he called out, making his way into the kitchen area.
“Felix,” she sang from the hallway. “This really isn’t a good time.”
The nose of her gun appeared out of the shadows of his hallway.
“Then you should’ve brought your kidnappee to someone else’s place.”
“Point taken.” She took one step farther into the living room so she was only half hidden by the shadow of the dark hallway.
The kitchen island was firmly between them. There was no way to charge her to take her gun away before she got a shot off. Judging from the firm set to her face and the two-handed grip on her gun, she meant business.
“What’s up, babe?” He dropped his gaze to her long legs and back up to the serious glint in her eye. Her knuckles were a bit red, but there were no other signs of injury—that was a check mark in the good news column. “Want to put your gun down so we can talk?”
She didn’t move a muscle. Not one.
“Not yet.” Her words were clipped.
The door to his bedroom was closed, and he couldn’t see the office from his vantage point. “Where is he?”
His heartbeat was fast but steady, and he damn near expected her to say “dead” and jump out his window while shooting. That’s what his day had come to.
“In your office. I did a little redecorating.”
With blood?
She started to loosen up—he could see it in her fingers, legs, and relaxing set to her jaw. He wasn’t the enemy. He never had been.
He stepped to the side of the island, creating a direct path to her. Nothing but them and the guns they had pointed at each other. “Arabella.”
“There isn’t much broken.” She shrugged, and he blinked. Joking was a good sign. At least he hoped she was kidding—he had his framed autographed picture of Ken Griffey Jr. in that room.
His gun was pointed at her as a gesture more than an actual threat. And to stop her from trying to detain him. But he wasn’t going to shoot her—not even if she shot at him. He slowly released his grip, deliberately setting the black metal on the counter, and raised his palms toward her.
“Why all the hassle?” He took a step forward.
“He has information I needed to persuade him to part with.”
“So you have what you need?”
“Not entirely, which is why I have a gun in my hand and not a champagne bottle.”
“I think this is the longest you’ve ever held a gun on me.” If she held the deadly end at him much longer, he’d have to grab the gun from her, or at least try. She’d been one hell of a sparring partner once upon a time.
She stood up straight, aiming the barrel away from his broad chest.
“I can’t let you take him back.” She tucked her gun into the pants at the small of her back. “Not yet.”
He breathed out in relief, which was swiftly followed by the anger he’d been holding in since he’d found dumb and dumber handcuffed together. “Why in the fuck did you abduct him in the first place? Do you know how bad this makes me and Wyn Security look?” He rubbed the back of his neck and scraped his scalp before putting both of his hands on his hips. “I mean, for fuck’s sake here, Arabella, was your end goal to show up and ruin my life? You better have one damn good reason, or I’m hauling away more than Bahman tonight.”
“Darek has a team after me. They’ve been chasing me for four months, and they’re getting closer with each step.”
There it was. His worst fear confirmed. He’d rather have been the one they were after. It was mighty inconvenient to treat his wife like a client, not that he’d been protecting her . . . yet.
“What went wrong?” He needed to set up counter surveillance of their every move to see if she was being watched. Fuck. Would there ever be a time when they wouldn’t deal with the stress of her life in danger?
Hit teams were never sent for no reason. And to chase her into the United States was desperate—third world countries were much easier to get in and out of, and corrupt governments often took bribes.
“What didn’t go wrong—that would be an easier question to answer.”
He carefully removed his phone from his jeans and texted Winter that he knew where Bahman was and to stand by for the outcome. They weren’t going to be able to turn the clock back to a time before Arabella kidnapped him. They needed a plan that didn’t involve her getting arrested.
“Start from the beginning.” With all the information, he’d definitely be able to help her with the staying alive part. He quickly glanced at his closed office door. He wasn’t so sure about jail time though.
• • •
Relief was creeping into Arabella’s lungs, and she could finally breathe without the looming threat on her life weighing down her shoulders, chest, and gut. There was no more lying to or deceiving Felix, and together they would come up with a plan. They’d always been a great team.
“Four months ago, the powers that be wanted me to infiltrate the sheikh to check on his activity, because there were rumors of him stockpiling weapons and more uranium again.”
“They didn’t have better measures in place?” Felix’s face hardened; he looked like he was holding in a string of curse words. “It’s not like my mission went so well the last time.”
“Well, knowing what I did about your experience . . . ” She paused to find the right wording. Felix seemed onboard, and she didn’t want him going off on another tangent and electing not to help. “I decided my best chance was the oldest son, Daichi.”
“And Darek is chasing you across international borders because you, what, hurt his son’s feelings?” Shit, Felix’s patience was running out.
“I was in, everything was going as planned. Until it wasn’t. I found the one place, a laptop, where Darek lists all of his transactions, business partners, who supplied what and to whom.” She closed her eyes for a second. “And who was being paid off.” That was the kicker and the ultimate reason she’d had to go on the run.
“That’s not a problem; it’s a career goal. That should’ve taken Darek out for good. And many others.”
“His guards caught me, and I had to make a break for it. I barely got out, but I managed to take the laptop with me.”
“Why didn’t you take it to your handler? Maki, was it?”
“Because I think Maki is dirty.” Felix’s jaw muscle jumped at his understanding. “I wasn’t sure Darek knew what I’d taken from him.” She shook her head. It was hard to believe these were the circumstances of her life. “I made contact with Maki and a friend in intelligence to turn over the information. Darek found out, and it turned into a firefight in downtown Istanbul. I don’t know which one turned me over to him.”
She didn’t even know if she was in possession of Darek’s complete payroll list, once again barely making it out alive. She was out in the cold, and it was a bitch.
Felix paced a short path in his living room.
“I’ve been on the run from Darek ever since.”
Her entire career had been based on blending in or getting noticed—she’d been failing at the former. Felix was her last hope to get out of the situation without dying—only she wasn’t sure how to do that.
I don’t know who to trust anymore.
“If I give the laptop back, Darek can freely kill me as a warning and for their troubles. If I don’t hand it over, he’ll never stop looking for me. And, if I turn it over to the wrong agency or people in the United States, I’m dead too.” She took a deep breath to soothe the panic that always crept up after she contemplated her state of affairs for too long. A tremble in her voice was the last thing she needed Felix to detect.
Felix nodded. She could practically see his calculating mind gears at work. Everything about this man was sexy. A dark shirt outlined his chest, abs, and arm muscles, and it took every ounce of self-control she possessed not to reach out and touch him.
He ground his box-shaped jaw especially tight. “Where was your team? Why didn’t you turn the info in to them?”
“They didn’t give me a team for this mission, just a handler I’d worked with a couple of times before. I guess I should be glad I’m not dead. They must not have paid Maki to nark on spies. Things have changed since you and me.” She looked away, past him to his gun lying on the counter. It hadn’t escaped her notice it was positioned perfectly to pick up and shoot her if necessary. There was no more “you and me,” and she was going to have to face that truth along with the one that said she wasn’t getting out of the mess this time, even with Felix’s help. “They knew who I was. Within a day, they were tracking my real name. I don’t know who all he has on the payroll these days, but they are earning their money. Since I got out of Istanbul four months ago, I haven’t accessed the files because at first I suspected the laptop was embedded with a GPS, which is why I took the battery out. But it’s also heavily encrypted. After the log in timed out I haven’t been able to get back in. Darek is a clever SOB. If—when—I turn it over, it’s my ass on the line.” She shook her head. “I have to clean this up, or I have no future.”
She never should’ve involved Felix. Coming to Seattle was another bad call in a list that was ever growing. She needed to get it the hell together. For the last month she’d merely been on the run, leaving no time to make a plan to get rid of the laptop and restore her life.
Felix was silent. And still. He just stood there looking at her . . . no, through her.
She grabbed the gun she’d stuck in the back of her pants. “I thought about wiping out the whole family, but that’s more than 100 people if I really want to be free from revenge, so . . . ” She winked and pivoted to get the last bits of information out of Parsa that she could before Felix took over her kidnapping and turned it into a playdate with the police. Not that she’d actually let him take her along for that joy ride.
“Stop.” He was at her side. “What has worked on him?”
Oh-kay. This is new. “I let him sit for a while in the dark, but you showed up sooner than I thought you would, so our little party has only been raging for about a half hour now. I got the jug of water out once, and ever since then he’s been chatty.”
He swore under his breath and she surrendered her gun to his outstretched hand. The contact of his rough-skinned fingers was fleeting, but, God help her, she wanted more. “Not a word in there.”
“He keeps saying that he’s not in with Darek anymore and that he is trying to find protection.”
Felix switched on the light, and Parse’s head snapped up. She’d left him gagged with a gash on his brow. She knew he was a part of the asshole-for-hire network—but she might feel a little bad if it turned out he wasn’t as evil as she’d thought.
“Mr. Bahman.” Felix took off Parsa’s gag then leaned on his corner desk and crossed his arms over his sculpted chest.
She rested her shoulder on the door frame and crossed one foot over the other. This ought to be good.
“I’ve told her everything I know.”
“Why don’t you tell me about your work with Darek?”
“As I’ve said before”—he looked to her as his upper lip curled before turning back to Felix—“I don’t work for Darek anymore. After she stole from him, he became very paranoid and shut down operations to regroup. He found out I’d been skimming. I was lucky enough to escape to the United States. I’m trying to make a deal with either your government or one of his enemies. Whoever can give me the best deal. That is who I was meeting with today. Well, the enemies anyhow.”
She’d heard this song and dance twenty minutes ago and wasn’t sure she believed him—it was an easy way not to have to give up any real information. It seemed Felix was trying to decide as well, going by his intense, dark gaze. But, damn, if that were the case, they’d met a lot of people today the government would be interested in talking to at length.
Felix turned back to the guy bound to a plush office chair. She’d probably owe Felix a new chair when this was all said and done. Parsa had knocked himself over a couple of times already, staining the chair with his blood, loosening the arms, and possibly breaking one of the rollers.
“Be specific”—Felix’s tone was steady and one she might not even dare mess with—“about your work with Darek.”
She had brought a shit ton of problems with her and entangled Felix’s life with them in the process. His tone was appropriate.
“I was making deals on Darek’s behalf—telling him a higher price and the buyer a lower price and pocketing the difference.” Parsa went over the same thing he’d already told her about gun deals, land deals. Name anything nasty, and he’d arranged it.
“What is Darek doing about finding her?” Felix’s head tilted her way.
“I don’t see how this is going to make a difference. My information is months old. I could just lie.”
“Then lie and see what happens.” The muscle in Felix’s jaw jumped as he stood and towered over the slender man.
“There was a bounty out on her with the caveat she must be taken alive because he wants to make sure he gets everything back she stole. Copies included.” Parsa’s dark eyes found hers. “It won’t end well for you if they catch you.”
Her body went cold. Nothing she didn’t already know, but chilling to hear nonetheless. “Did you recognize me today? Did you tell anyone?”
“No. I wasn’t paying attention to you. I was worried about my own issues. If I had, I wouldn’t be here, and you’d be the one tied up.”
Felix stepped out of the room and motioned with his head for her to follow. His brute demeanor was a strong freaking turn-on.
His phone was in hand then up to his cheek.
“Who are you calling?”
He returned her gun—like she really would’ve killed her hostage in Felix’s apartment. Their skin didn’t touch this time, and she tucked her gun into her back waistband.
“Winter. We need to contain this.”
Contain this? She didn’t want to know Parsa’s history or how much of a douchebag he was. She wanted to know where Darek’s team was so she—correction they—could attack them first. Until she got that information, she was not giving up Parsa.
“Come to my place to get Bahman. You may want to call Alex and let him know we have a potential informant for the CIA.” He raised a brow at her. “And also information to be served up at a later date. It’s his lucky day.”
Oh hell no.
“You can’t be serious.” She didn’t keep her voice down or the disbelief from shining through.
Felix glanced at her then to the office door before disconnecting with Winter.
“Over my dead body you are giving him away that easily.” She crossed her arms, the cold steel of her gun pressing into her lower back.
“You want to go to jail?”
He was serious.
“No. I want to stay alive. He knows more than he’s saying.”
“Then he’ll tell Alex or the CIA and we’ll stay in the loop.”
“I don’t have that kind of time.”
“He doesn’t know anything more about your trouble, and that’s what we need to focus on.”
While they were going to sit and twiddle their thumbs, Darek’s men were getting closer. Who knew who Parsa’s bodyguards would tell now that they were free. If Darek hadn’t tracked her to Seattle by now, he’d get the hint soon.
• • •
The knock on the door came twenty minutes later—eighteen minutes after Felix had untied Parsa and fifteen minutes after Arabella had decided not to talk to Felix anymore.
“Hey,” Felix greeted Winter at the door.
“Hi.” She walked in, surveying the room. Winter’s glare landed on her, but Arabella didn’t change the set to her jaw. She wasn’t happy with Felix, and Winter was a close second for enabling him. “You better hope we can make this right.”
Yeah, she already held that hope firmly in her throat. Her life was circling the drain. She didn’t want to bring Felix, Winter, and the security business down with her. Despite her actions today.
Arabella stood in the living room, away from the bank of windows, Parsa sat on the couch, and Felix guarded the front door. This was the first time she’d ever disagreed with Felix’s tactical approach, and it didn’t feel good.
“Did you call Alex?” Felix asked and set down his beer.
“Yeah. I’m going to take Mr. Bahman to Alex’s downtown office. He’s meeting me there. He called a pal of his in the CIA who is coming in.”
Felix had shared with Parsa the plan to get him to the CIA so he could tell his story in return for a new identity or whatever. Felix was failing to see that the dealmaker and moneyman she’d taken wasn’t exactly an innocent person—he’d negotiated business deals as well as hits before on the family’s request. She’d spent the last fifteen minutes mentally testing ways to overpower Felix and detain him long enough to get out of there with Parsa. She couldn’t choke him out quickly enough before she got seriously hurt in the process, she couldn’t lock him in any room that would hold him long enough for her to escape, and she really didn’t want to shoot him. But now her time had run out. She’d been too slow on the draw to kidnap Parsa a second time.
Maybe her subconscious had wanted this to happen the entire time. Maybe she was sick of running and needed someone to help her. Not just anyone. Someone she could trust. But it seemed the tables were turned, and she was the one no one trusted.
Parsa stood, ignored her, and nodded at Felix. After Winter gave Felix a look that obviously meant “this isn’t over,” the boss lady and Parsa were out the door.
Felix stood there, watching her. Arabella felt naked—he was seeing right through her. The day, the last four months, caught up with her, and she couldn’t take the pressure any longer.
It was over. All of it. The job she used to live for held no satisfaction, the place she called home was foreign, and the man she married just sold her out.