Double Agent

Sabine had never been good at being told what to do. “So this is your big escape plan, huh? Hiding in a closet?”

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. In the darkness of the tiny room, frustration came off him in waves. “Copy that, California.”

Doug eased the door open and glanced both ways. Sabine took a step to follow. Her ankle gave out and she collapsed, biting back what she really wanted to say. Her right ankle was swollen around the straps of her shoe.

Doug crouched and unbuckled both of them. He lifted her swollen foot and winced. “You need a bandage. Probably some crutches.”

She couldn’t let herself get distracted by the kindness in his voice. It was normally deep, almost melodic in tone, and she liked listening to him shout instructions when the guys played their extremely intense version of touch football. Now she knew that when he spoke softly in that low voice, it chased away the shivers.

“What I need is to get off the floor.”

His mouth thinned, but he helped her up.

Sabine swung her purse on her shoulder and cleared the door so he could close it. “What floor is this?”

“Twelve.”

No way was she going to hobble down multiple flights of stairs. She turned and limped for the elevator, not caring if he followed or not. Honest. “My room is only two floors down. I can see myself there. Thanks for your help.”

“I don’t think so.” He kept pace with her, glancing around. “Copy that, California.” He zeroed in on Sabine. “Perkins says you don’t have a room.”

She smirked. “Amateurs.”

“Excuse me?”

They reached the elevators. When Doug didn’t press the button, Sabine reached for it herself. “I bet he checked for me under my real name.”

“You have another one that we don’t know about?”

She smiled. “The things you don’t know about me could fill the whole internet.”

He folded his arms. “Evidently. For starters, how a professional...whatever you are...manages to be surprised when someone assassinates a target. I thought you guys were all about offing the bad guy.”

The whole thing hit way too close to home. Seeing someone killed, despite the difference in circumstances. Well, it didn’t matter. Witnessing someone’s last breath wasn’t something she could forget.

Sabine drew on the only thing she had left: bravado. “Do they teach stereotyping to all army soldiers, or is that just your thing?”

She stepped into the empty elevator and winced at the pain in her foot. That was the only reason she had tears in her eyes. The disappointment on Doug’s face didn’t have anything to do with it. Who cared what he thought of her, anyway?

“I’m sorry.”

She whipped around. “Don’t.”

“Sabine—”

The elevator doors opened, and they both stayed silent while he walked her to her room. When the door didn’t close behind her, she whirled as fast as her ankle would let her. Doug stood there, scanning the room she’d reserved. Of course he’d waltzed in right behind her. Probably thought he was going to personally escort her all the way home.

She looked around at the budget accommodations. It was a far cry from Christophe’s suite, but she didn’t care what it looked like. This was the room that brought her within reach of the man who was the money behind Ben’s death—the man who likely knew who was responsible.

She had to know who’d fired the rifle from that rooftop. She had to know why Ben was gone. Otherwise, what was the point? But how could she find out what had happened when the biggest lead was dead? Not to mention that her retribution plan was now pointless.

She wanted to pray there was something on the hard drive that would point to who had killed Ben, but her emotions were too messed up to deal with the issue of faith just then.

There had to be evidence on there they could use, otherwise all of her investigation into classified government files, running down leads, the days of work she’d put in—everything leading up to this mission—would have been for nothing. And Sabine would be left with only the empty feeling of not being able to make sense of anything.

Doug closed the door with him on the wrong side of it. “We shouldn’t stay here too long. Christophe’s bodyguards might get lucky and figure out where you’re staying.”

“The two guys who chased us? Please. I’ve seen smarter sponges.”

Sabine dug through her suitcase for her first-aid kit. She located an elastic bandage, sat on the edge of the bed and started to wrap her ankle. Sharp pain sliced through her foot, and she ducked her head to blow out a breath through pursed lips.

Masculine fingers covered hers. The distinction between his almond-colored skin and her olive-toned flesh made it all the more clear to her that they had little common ground. The loving family he came from was worlds away from her dingy two-bedroom childhood home where everything had gone wrong.

“Let me.”

She looked up. The warmth of his fingers on hers registered, along with the look in his eye. Her throat thickened, and she forced herself to nod.

While he made quick work of the bandage, Sabine felt her heart stretch and come awake for the first time. That had never happened any of the other times she’d met Doug—MacArthur, as the guys called him. The simple name suited his steady and uncomplicated nature.

At the few backyard barbecues for the team and their families that she’d attended, Sabine had always felt like an outsider. She’d been attracted to Doug, but any time they had talked he steered the conversation through small talk and never lingered for long.

He clearly didn’t feel anything special for her. That was when she began to make excuses to her brother and say she had to work—which wasn’t a lie. Now that Ben was dead, she wished she hadn’t made him look at her that way or feel sorry for her.

Sabine cleared her throat. “So why are you guys here?”

“Why don’t you tell me why you’re here first?”

“You tell me, and I’ll tell you. Otherwise I have nothing to say.” It was juvenile, but she wasn’t in the mood for a heart-to-heart. Her ankle hurt like nobody’s business. Not to mention the weight of a man’s life was now on her shoulders.

She didn’t know what the recourse of all this would be. No doubt there’d be some kind of investigation into Christophe’s death. When her name came up, she hoped she had the strength to stand up for herself. Not to mention that there would be enough evidence to prove it wasn’t her who had murdered him.

Doug rubbed his eyes. Was he frustrated this wasn’t turning out like he had planned? Good. Immediately she wanted to take that thought back. Despite the imposing size of him, he did look sort of lost.

Sabine had enough to deal with without letting him distract her from her job, so she ignored him. She had the hard drive. It really was time to go before someone identified her. After dumping everything into the rolling carry-on she traveled with, she slipped her feet into silver flats, put her sunglasses on top of her head and turned to the door.

Doug grabbed her elbow, but she kept going. After a tug of war in which she lost her sunglasses and found herself sitting on the desk chair, she finally acknowledged him. He towered over her, his hands on the armrests.

Sabine lifted her chin. “Make this fast. I have a plane to catch.”

“I’m coming with you.”

Sabine almost swooned with the vulnerability in his tone. Almost. “I don’t think so.”

“Sabine, this is serious. Right now, where you go, I go. That’s how it has to be.”

“Why?”

“You’re seriously asking me that? We have to figure out what just happened. You want to find Ben’s killer? Well, so do I. If we pool our resources together, we have the best chance of that. So we’re going to meet up with my team, and you’re going to tell me what you’re doing here, what you want with that hard drive you hid in your purse and whatever else you know.”

She smirked. He thought she was going to spill everything just like that? Yep, amateurs. “Answers, answers. Let’s see. Life...the universe...and forty-seven.”

“Funny.” He wasn’t laughing. “I think you know something. Maybe it’s a small thing...or maybe you’re the key to all of this.”

She sighed. “Am I supposed to know what on earth you’re talking about?” He should know how it was. They both lived their lives under the radar. That was the whole point of being a spy. He was Special Forces. They only told the people closest to them what they did.

“I guess we’ll find out.”

Sabine glared. “Even if I could help you, there’s no way I would give you even one second of my time. You were there when my brother died—”

“I can’t talk to you about that. It’s classified.”

“Look, MacArthur—”

“Doug.”

Sabine rolled her eyes. “The only thing I care about is bringing whoever killed Ben to justice. Whatever association you and I might’ve had has now ended. Unless you care to share what happened that night.”

The muscle at the corner of his eye twitched. “You need my help if you’re going to get out of this hotel without getting questioned for Christophe’s death.”

“You said yourself we don’t have much time before those two guys find us, or someone raises the alarm about Christophe being dead and the whole place swarms with cops.”

He held out his hand. “Let’s go then.”

She brushed it aside and stood. “This is where we part. It’s been an experience, really. But like I said, I have a plane to catch.”

“Look, I know how hard this must be for you.”

Was he serious? “You have no idea—”

“Let me finish.” He had the decency to look apologetic. “Please. I can help you put this to rest, but I have to know how you fit in.”

“You think I had something to do with Ben’s death?” She forced the words past a resurgence of the complete and utter desperate, aching solitude that had followed her brother’s death. To her horror, a slice of her private grief tracked its way down her cheek.

She swiped away the moisture and shoved past him.

“Try seeing this from my perspective, Sabine. The team is shadowing the man who paid for your brother to be executed—”

“Executed—” The word was a whisper from her mouth.

Doug winced. “We’re trying to get to the bottom of it. You can help me find out what happened. If need be, we’ll clear your name. We both want justice. Let’s work together.”

She shook her head. “I can’t. Christophe is dead, and I plan on getting as far from this as possible. Unless there’s something seriously incriminating on the hard drive that leads to the killer and lays out the whys of it all—which I seriously doubt—then it’s over. My brother is dead. Justice is just a vain hope.”

“Sabine—”

Her stomach churned. “No. I was wrong to attempt this. A man is dead. Yes, he was a criminal. And most likely responsible for Ben’s death. That means in some way justice has already been served. Let’s leave it there. Please. I’m going to turn the hard drive over to my handler and walk away.”

Doug’s eyes were wet. “I can’t let you do that. I have to know what happened. I won’t beg for your help, but I don’t see how you can walk away and let this lie.”

The heartbreak on his face nearly did her in. Sabine touched his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin and the late-day stubble. “We need time to grieve. Both of us.”

Something flickered in his eyes, and everything changed. She drew her hand away. Her stomach plunged like an elevator at the thought of exactly what that look might mean. But she couldn’t let it penetrate the fortified walls of her heart.

For the first time, Doug was more than her brother’s team leader. Despite what had brought them together, he was being a friend to her. Since she had few true friends, it was hard to recognize one or to trust the offer of friendship when it was given.

Ben had reacted...badly, when she had told him what she really did for a living. Granted, he’d been thrown after finally admitting to her what his position was in the army. Delta Force.

After he had told her that he was Special Ops, Sabine couldn’t let the opportunity pass to open up about her own occupation. How was she to know he would hit the roof when he found out her job was just as dangerous as his—maybe more so, since she didn’t have a team to back her up?

She didn’t want to know what would have happened if Doug hadn’t been there today. She’d needed him to get her out of Parelli’s room after she realized she was going to be framed. So much for being a capable agent. Did that mean she couldn’t handle this job on her own?

Doug pulled the cap from his head, ran his hand down his face and replaced his ball cap. “I’m sorry. You don’t need the weight of my grief, too.”

Sabine turned away and swiped up the handle of her suitcase. “Tensions are high. Don’t sweat it.”

“Sabine—”

“I told you I have a plane to catch.”

Sabine was out of her depth. Sure, she was a trained agent. She was just more of an information-gathering, bug-planting, charm-the-bad-guy-into-talking kind of spy. She was about as far from a fully armed Special Ops team as it was possible to be, despite their mutual goal of finding out who had killed Ben.

Doug grabbed her arm. “I can’t let you leave, Sabine. You’re not going anywhere without me until I get some answers.”

THREE

Mistakes. That’s what it all boiled down to in Doug’s mind. His life could be summed up in a series of mistakes that never should have been made—the most recent of which stood in front of him now. He touched her elbow. It was slender, her skin smooth under his rough fingers callused from a war he had never wanted to reach her shore.

Her head reached his chin, and her hair reflected every shade from auburn to dark chocolate. The red dress flattered her figure in a way that wasn’t suggestive. She was pure class. The color looked warm against the almost Mediterranean-rich tan of her skin. Ben had been much lighter. Doug had wondered why the siblings hadn’t looked anything alike. On the day he had asked Ben, Doug had been given a back off look. He didn’t ask again.

Despite the feelings she evoked in him, Doug was on a mission, and emotions had no bearing. At least they weren’t supposed to. He’d have to chalk up his earlier outburst to being overcome with grief. After all, who knew the extent of her involvement in Christophe Parelli’s life, his business and his death? The quicker Doug got both of them out of here, the quicker he could find out how Sabine figured into Ben’s death. CIA or not, she’d be answering a whole lot of questions.

After that she would be free to walk out of his life. He thought of all those get-togethers when he’d had to force himself to be cordial while everything in him hummed just from being near her. The reality of how shallow his attraction to her was hit him like a needle that burst a balloon and deflated his sense of honor.

It seemed like his initial impression had been entirely wrong. Not about her being very good at what she did. He’d believed she was some high-powered financial type at the bank where she worked. Ben had told anyone who would listen that his sister was a big deal, traveling all over the world for her job.

Had Ben even known the truth?

She wasn’t the type of woman that Doug wanted to get to know. Even though just looking at her made his brain miss critical steps, Doug couldn’t let her affect him. She’d charmed her way close enough to Christophe Parelli to get his fingerprints, and Doug had no interest in a woman who used her looks to get what she wanted. Once this mission was over, they’d both get on with their lives.

“My plane leaves in three hours.” She lowered her slim wrist. The gold bracelet didn’t look like any watch he’d ever seen. The smallest bit of fear crept on her face, despite the stubborn set to her shoulders.

“You’ll be on it. Just as soon as we get to a safe place where you can answer some questions.”

A click in his earpiece signaled California had something to say. “You gonna bring her over here, MacArthur?”

Doug caught her eye. How would she react to being crowded by army operatives? She knew each of them, except Ben’s replacement. He’d seen her laugh and talk with the boys and their wives and girlfriends. Still, despite her status as a teammate’s sister, he doubted any of them would be kind now that there were questions over her involvement.

“We’ll be there in five, California.”

He hoped the crack in her armor, the one currently giving off waves of fear, was an indication that she’d share what she knew. Doug had no intention of interrogating her. Nor could he hurt her in any way.

Even if it hadn’t been Sabine, he wasn’t the kind of man who did that. It didn’t line up with what he’d been taught, his personal code of ethics or his faith. All in all, that was a lot of rules, but they were good rules. Honest standards he could live by and know he got things right.

Sabine Laduca was the antithesis of everything he stood for—a bolt of lightning. Would God create a woman for the sole purpose of throwing Doug off his game?

Well, he might be thrown, but there was no way she would bring him down.

If that tear she had tried to hide was anything to go by, he’d brought her grief back to the surface. There was no other choice. Doug was tempted to dial down his determination to find the truth. For the sake of this woman’s obvious pain, he could take some extra time to soothe her into sharing.

But he wasn’t going to.

Could she really be involved? Who even knew what the CIA was up to? In spite of his personal distaste, he had to push her. He couldn’t afford to suddenly go soft. Sabine knew something. Until he found out what, she was going to have to deal with the discomfort. They were together. And she was right. They really shouldn’t stay in this room any longer. Parelli’s guys could show up again any second.

“You good to go?”

Sabine grabbed her roll-on suitcase again. But this time when she straightened, her face was a blank mask.

He sighed. “Right. Let’s move.”

He took the suitcase from her. She didn’t like it, given the look on her face. Too bad. No man worth his salt made a woman pull her own suitcase when he was perfectly capable.

Doug scanned the hall both ways, gave a short nod and led her out, taking her hand to make sure she stayed with him. He paid no mind to the shimmer of warmth when he touched her slender fingers. He just hadn’t held a woman’s hand in a long time.

He pressed the button for the elevator. To anyone observing, they were simply a couple on their way down to check out. They could easily be on their honeymoon for all anyone else knew—except for the lack of wedding rings.

And didn’t that just prick his heart in a way he wasn’t ready to consider? Maybe, after he retired from the army, he could have that kind of relationship with a woman. Whoever she was, the woman he married would understand his driven nature because her heart beat to the same pattern. Family. Loyalty. Trust. Honesty. Those were the lifeblood of any relationship.

It was too bad he could never trust the woman beside him. His dream was just that—a dream. Until then he’d have to rely on God to take care of the future. The years of training that made him the man he was today would cover the here and now.

Six foot four, 250 pounds of muscle, Doug was a weapon honed by the United States Army into one of their best soldiers—a fact that had nothing to do with who his father was. Doug had sent home all the daddy’s boy naysayers with their tails between their legs. Sure, Doug could have gone the West Point route and earned butter bars, but the gold bars of a lieutenant’s rank would have put him behind a desk commanding missions. Not on the ground in the thick of it.

His dad had known exactly how hard Doug would have to work to push himself beyond his limits and earn the position of team leader. The general might have made Doug earn every patch the hard way, but it’d been worth it to feel the achievement of having done it. They understood that about each other, at least.

When the doors opened on the lobby, Doug tensed. Through the crowd of people milling around, he spotted his teammate assigned to the lobby—Franklin. Despite being in his late thirties, Franklin had the air of a middle-aged banker about him that allowed him to blend in anywhere.

Doug shifted his grip on Sabine’s hand, and they strode to the front counter where she checked out of the hotel.

After signing A. Surleski on the receipt, she looked at him. “It’s past lunch. I’m going to need something to eat pretty soon.”

Doug looked her up and down. “You seem like a woman way too concerned about her appearance to be worried about something as pesky as eating.”

Her eyes narrowed. “They do say that looks can be deceiving.”

He doubted that. He knew her type. The expensive clothes said enough, but the way she held herself spoke much louder. He had a nagging feeling this woman was going to prove to be high maintenance when it served her purpose.

“In this case, I can read you loud and clear.” He folded his arms across his chest. “But since I’m hungry, too, I guess we can rustle up something.” He shot a look at the receptionist. The guy was busy typing into his computer. “After we join the others in our party and finish up our business, of course.”

Her dangly gold earrings shook back and forth with the motion of her head. “There’s a restaurant next door, remember? We can pick something up there.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really. I’m telling you—”

He stopped listening. The two guys who had chased them down the hall stepped off the elevator. “Time to go.”

Doug strode to the side door, careful not to rush and draw anyone’s attention. Dragged along by his grip, Sabine let out a yelp. He rolled his eyes and looked back. She made a valiant effort to keep up with his long strides. This had better be about her ankle. She’d better not be being difficult just because she wanted to go it alone.

The air outside was like stepping into a sauna. Doug quickened his pace, and heard a stir of noise and movement behind them. He cut right, pulled Sabine along the sidewalk and watched for a place to cross.

“They’re coming.” Her voice was a hiss. “They’re right behind us.”

He glanced back, and, sure enough, the men had exited the hotel and spotted them. With a shout, the suits started to run.

“Go. Now,” Doug ordered.

A battered sedan pulled in front of them. Doug swerved, skirted the front bumper and glanced back. Franklin was nowhere to be seen, and the men were gaining on them.

“We’re not going to make it,” Sabine answered, but he was too focused on moving and on the voice in his earpiece to respond.

“Ten feet to your left. Yellow cab.”

They climbed in before the driver even stopped.

“Drive.” Doug threw a wad of cash onto the front seat, and the driver hit the gas pedal. “Airport.”

The radio in his ear clicked. “Copy that. Party’s over, friends. MacArthur, we’ll see you back at the house.”

With that, the team was dispersed to make their own way back to the U.S., where they would rendezvous on base for debrief.

Beside him in the cab, Sabine pulled her hand from his grip and rubbed her wrist. Doug ignored his heavy heart, even as it added to the measure of weight he already carried. What would Sabine say when she found out what he’d done? A woman like her would probably slap him across the face. He deserved it for his part in her brother’s death.

He glanced out the back window. The two suited guys stood in the middle of the road outside the hotel. The bigger man formed his fingers into an imaginary gun, which he raised and fired at them.

Sabine flinched.

“We got away,” Doug whispered, trying to reassure her. “They won’t catch up to us again. I’ll make sure of it.”

She looked at him. “Because you’re so good, you’re certain? Wow, you’re arrogant.”

Doug shrugged, deliberately nonchalant. He needed answers from her. Needed her to talk and not retreat again. “It’s true. I’m good at what I do. Once I have what I want, I’ll be out of your life for good.”