Deliciously Dangerous (8 page)

D
UE TO
J
AMMER’S
delay
they had to take a later flight, which put them into Rome’s very busy Fiumicino Airport early in the morning. Finally, they got through security and customs, and were in a limo heading to their hotel—the St. George Roma, a quaint hotel Callie had never visited and Jammer had stayed in several times. It was decorated in a trendy style, with lots of travertine and marble on the walls and floors.

Callie was used to time changes, and jet lag had ceased to affect her. She was wide-awake and sleep wasn’t an option, so Jammer suggested they go for a run before the heat and tourists took over the city.

Eager for the exercise, Callie changed into a T-shirt and shorts and followed Jammer out of their hotel.

It was still dark outside, but the streets were illuminated and easy to navigate. Dawn was about an hour away.

Jammer took her past St. Peter’s Basilica and through winding streets as the city came awake. After thirty minutes of running they passed the Pantheon and, jogging in place, Callie stopped to take in the ancient structure.

It wasn’t long before she could hear the sound of gushing water. It reached a crescendo when they emerged in a square and saw the Trevi Fountain, bathed in gold from the illumination of the lights.

Panting from their exertion, Jammer and Callie splashed themselves with the water from the fountain to cool off.

There were very few pedestrians around, but traffic was starting to increase in the area where three roads intersected, forming the square.

When their breathing had returned to normal, they sat on the edge of the fountain.

“This is quite beautiful,” Callie said.

“The fountain was built as a tribute to the aqueducts that supplied water to ancient Rome,” Jammer replied.

“I’m sure it was an engineering marvel.”

Jammer laughed and Callie loved the deep, carefree sound of it. She smiled. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s funny because supposedly a virgin led Roman engineers to the source of the pure water.”

“Once again, it takes a woman to show men where they need to go.”

“You’ve never had any problem with telling me where
to go,” he said softly. His voice was barely audible above the rushing water. She had to lean against him, making the moment intimate and romantic. “That’s true,” she said, rubbing her cheek against his.

Jammer slipped his arm around her, drawing her closer. Callie snaked her arm around his waist. Snuggling into the crook of his neck, she relaxed against his wide, hard chest.

“Kidding aside, this is more than a mere sculpture,” Jammer said. “It’s a wonderful example of Baroque art with its soft, natural lines and fantasy creatures that embody movement as the soul of the world.”

Callie was stunned. Simply stunned. Jammer, who looked like he belonged in some smoky bar as a bouncer, was talking about Baroque art in such a way that it made her raise her head and study him. His eyes were a different shade of gray, like a calm, early-morning sky, content in the beginning of the day and warming from the rising of the sun.

A morning breeze ruffled his short hair, which appeared blue-black in the shortening shadows as dawn broke on the horizon. It was one of those true, genuine moments that she would always remember, like the one when he had talked about his father. A window into the real person Jammer was. The identity of the man she wanted to get to know more deeply than she would have time for.

Unexpectedly, tears pricked her eyes, and she blinked rapidly to clear them. There was no crying in black ops.

He shifted their bodies so that she was sitting between
his legs. They watched as the sun melted the gold, seeming to wash down the statues and disappear into the water until it, too, changed to aquamarine.

“It’s the light and shade effects of the marble that make it seem like the clothes and hair of the statues are moving—Neptune is the one standing in the chariot being pulled by two seahorses. To the side stand Abundance and Salubrity, and around the borders of the pool are stone and carved vegetation representing the sea.”

Callie got a very unique view of a piece of art from a man from whom she had expected only violence and greed. This side of him shook her foundations and crumbled her defenses all the more, until she was scrambling to find a foothold to hang on to her objectivity.

The struggle to deny her own feelings caused a pressure in her chest that grew and grew, like an inflating balloon. It crowded against her lungs, squeezed her heart, closed off her throat, pushed hard on the backs of her eyes. She had crushed it out before, time and again.

This was the paradox of being undercover. You had to
become
the person you needed to be—not role-play, not act, not pretend. She had to guard who she was from Jammer to protect her cover. It seemed ironic to try to hide anything from a man with whom she had shared the most private parts of her body, who had taken her to dizzying heights of pleasure and held her safe in his arms. She had opened her body to him, but she couldn’t ever open her heart and truly share with him everything she was. Gina Callahan could do that, but Callie Carpenter couldn’t.

For the first time in this crazy relationship that hurt.

“Who are you?” she asked softly, not sure if he could hear her above the rushing water that cooled her face, not sure if the moisture was tears she wouldn’t acknowledge or random droplets from the fountain.

He didn’t speak, but she could feel his alertness behind her, as if he wanted to tell her. Wanted to give her that insight into his character that she craved.

Finally, he said, “I’m just a cog, Gina. Just a cog.”

He was wrong. He wasn’t a cog, he was a linchpin, and when it was pulled, everything would come crashing down. He was her conduit to the Ghost. Her mission.

Who would have thought she would have needed that reminder? Not her. Her relationship with Jammer had been intense from the start. Those three days in Paris, as they had slaked a need for each other that became as addictive as a drug, were ones she would never forget. But she’d set up the deal with the intention of trapping the Ghost, and she had been resolved to follow through. All she could hope for in that situation would be that Jammer would get jail time, but not as much as his boss.

But then Miyagi’s henchman had run her down, giving her a concussion, and she’d been out of it enough that her twin sister, Allie, had had to fill in. But Allie and Drew had failed to capture the Ghost, had lost the weapons and the money to Jammer. He had orchestrated the death of Miyagi, effectively saving her sister’s life, for which Callie would always be grateful.

How to mesh this man with his international reputation for being the Ghost’s muscle? It was interesting
how he was always where the Ghost was supposed to be. Always the face of the organization. It made her wonder and speculate.

Jammer was much more than the Ghost’s muscle. She found this intriguing, and grudgingly had to admire Jammer’s intelligence.

“We’d better get going,” he said as he let her go. She slid off the fountain and for an instant, in front of one of the most famous monuments in the world, she wrapped her arms around him and held him, just held on to him, breathing in his scent and enjoying the sheer physical contact.

That was the other negative side effect of being undercover—the loneliness of never really letting herself get too close.

And in her heart, she knew that even after she’d completed her mission she would always feel that loneliness, because after her mission was complete, Jammer would never hold her like this again.

T
HE
I
TALIAN MET THEM
in a small conference room provided by the hotel. It was a quick transaction and took all of thirty minutes to complete.

As they were wrapping up, Jammer asked, “Alberto, do you have any ideas where would I get my hands on seven or eight hundred surface-to-air missiles and two planes?”

Callie closed her eyes and swore softly when Alberto regarded her quizzically.

“This information I have already given to the fair Gina.
È questo non è così?
”

Jammer looked at her as she smiled and nodded at the Italian. “Yes, you have, but I haven’t had a chance to discuss it with Jammer.”

“Ah, well, I must depart. Your shipment will go out this afternoon to the place you have specified.” He kissed Gina’s hand and exited the room with his two bodyguards.

As the door closed, Jammer turned to her. “You know
where to get the rest of the weapons? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was checking all my contacts.”

“Why do that when we have a solid lead on those weapons? It’s all I need to complete the shipment.”

Just then Jammer’s cell rang. He answered curtly.
“Fuentes,”
he mouthed to Callie. He listened to the voice on the other end and rubbed at his temple as Fuentes’s yelling rose another octave. Switching to Spanish, he said, “I am meeting my obligation and I will have everything you requested within the allotted time, which I have to point out isn’t up yet.” Jammer was silent again. “I don’t care what rumors you’ve heard. I fulfill my promises and expect that everything will be to your specifications.”

Fuentes’s voice dropped, and Jammer ended the call shortly afterward.

“Now, who is this contact?”

“Joost Roorback,” Callie said. She wasn’t disappointed in Jammer’s reaction.

“Son of a bitch! Three years I’ve been doing this and not one problem. Not one.” He sat down heavily in one of the conference room chairs. “Joost fucking Roorback hates me, and the Ghost in particular. He feels that he’s being dissed every time I make a buy in the Ghost’s name. He’s a loose cannon and a murdering, sadistic bastard. I don’t want you anywhere near him.”

“He doesn’t hate me, Jammer. Maybe I can work with him.”

“No! Out of the question. We’ll find another way.”

She came around the conference room table to where
Jammer was sitting. He’d worn a gorgeous gray Armani silk wool suit that darkened the shade of his eyes and easily cost ten thou if she was any judge. The silver-gray, unembellished tie made him look sleek and sophisticated. She settled her hands on his shoulders and kneaded the knotted muscles through the jacket and white silk shirt. “Okay, okay, I’m on your side. I’ll keep checking with everyone I know. Jeez, don’t shoot the messenger.”

Jammer nodded, his features tight. “Sorry, but that man is bad, bad news.”

“I’ve only heard rumors. I haven’t had much of an opportunity to deal with him.”

“Good. Steer clear. That guy’s going to come to a violent end, Gina. Mark my words.”

“So, I guess our trip to Italy is over. I didn’t even get a chance to go to Tuscany.”

Jammer swiveled the chair, cutting her legs out from under her so that she landed in his lap with an “oomph” and a giggle.

“Well, why not? When do we meet lover boy?”

Callie straightened his tie and smiled wryly, “Jammer, he’s not my lover boy, and we’re not supposed to see him until Friday.”

“That leaves us two days. Plenty of time.”

“You’re serious? You want to frolic around in Florence for two days?”

“Why not? It doesn’t make sense to head back to the U.S. when we’d just have to turn around and go to London. Might as well take advantage of the time we have together.”

True to his word, they flew into Florence. It wasn’t until they landed and got to the hotel that he told her he’d booked a bike tour around the city. Callie loved the idea.

They spent their first day doing that, then it was off to San Gimignano to a farmhouse for the night, to experience the Tuscany region and the vineyards of the area. The day was filled with nothing but wine sipping and pool lounging, until Callie felt so relaxed and refreshed she never wanted to leave.

Jammer bought a bottle of wine and a meal from the generous owners and they took it out to the terrace.

She was tipsy from the wine and warmed by the sun when she sat down to the simple but delicious fare the couple had prepared.

Jammer filled her glass and said, “This variety of wine dates back hundreds of years to Greek sailors.”

“I feel as drunk as a sailor,” she said softly, and they both thought that was completely hilarious.

“You know the last time I had wine with you, mister, I ended up very wet and very satisfied.”

Jammer’s eyes glowed, and an infectious grin split his lips. “As I recall, you didn’t protest too vigorously.”

“As
I
recall, I was shackled and a victim to your debauchery.”

“Debauchery?”

They broke into gales of laughter over that, too.

After dinner, Callie stepped up to the railing of the terrace and appreciated the view. The panorama of the Tuscan countryside spread out before them—undulating hills topped with little terra-cotta-roofed farmhouses.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Jammer suggested as they left the terrace. It was getting dark, but there was a full moon and plenty of light to see where they were walking.

They soon came to a field full of red poppies gently blowing in the breeze, which carried the smell of earth and grass. Callie leaned her forearms on a fence and took in the countryside.

Jammer came up behind her, his hands encircling her waist. He kissed the back of her neck, sending spikes of pleasure down her spine. Her head reeling from the wine, she relaxed into him, breathing in his clean, sharp male scent and sighing.

“What a beautiful night and a beautiful place.”

“You’re beautiful, Gina. So damned beautiful.”

“Is that the wine talking?” She giggled.

He chuckled and said, “No, you crazy woman, it’s not. You’re beautiful from the top of your silky cap of hair down to your breasts, to your long, killer legs.”

“I can kill a man with my legs, you know.”

He laughed softly into her neck. “I can attest to that fact.”

She laughed with him, and said, “I can.”

“Yeah, you’re lethal, I have no doubt.”

“I know moves that would shock and awe you, Jammer.”

“I’ve already been shocked and awed by many of your moves.” He kissed her ear, the laughter thick in his voice.

“Oh, you’re not being serious,” she said, but couldn’t keep a straight face.

“As serious as I can be with a beautiful woman in
my arms and several glasses of very good wine in my system.”

“Well, if we’re talking about moves, Jammer, you’ve got some amazing ones of your own.”

“Do I? Elaborate.”

“Well, your mouth should be registered as a lethal weapon. It can make a woman so weak she simply can’t fight back.”

“What else?”

“Oh, your hands definitely need to be considered armed and dangerous, because you certainly know how to use them on defenseless victims.”

“Do you mean, like this?” He cupped her breasts, gently catching her nipples between his fingers as he squeezed. A moan slipped out as she arched into his hands.

Very gently, he pushed her forward until her hands were on the fence. Huskily, he said, “Spread your legs.”

Callie obeyed as he skimmed his hand from her calf up to her thigh and then under the short sundress she wore. The contact made her shudder. He planted open-mouthed kisses on her nape as his hand slid down between her legs and he curled his fingers into the sheer, lacy material of her panties. He tugged hard, ripping the insubstantial scrap of material right off her.

She gasped in shock when his seeking hand returned to her skin and the other cupped her breast. He groaned when he discovered her braless. He stroked between her legs as he continued to pull and rub her nipple.

With a low growl, Jammer thrust two fingers into her
slick core and kept on going until they were filling her up as his thumb strummed across her pulsing clit.

He pinched her nipple with just enough pressure to create a tugging, rippling sensation that spiraled down to where his other fingers were at play within her. His thumb increased its pressure, so knowing and skillful, and so intent on pushing her to dizzying heights of pleasure.

Needing an anchor from the storm about to break, she grasped the rough, slender slats of the fence. Callie threw her head back and cried out as her orgasm crested and a blissful warmth shimmied through her in waves.

Her legs turned to jelly, and just when she was certain she was going to collapse to the ground, Jammer slid inside her to the hilt, stealing her breath at the same time.

She shuddered at the feeling of being so completely filled by him, groaned as he forced his way deeper. She closed her eyes, her spine bowing as he began to move in earnest, faster, harder, stronger.

She gloried in the long groan of satisfaction she wrenched from him as she clenched her muscles tightly around him and pushed back with every last spark of need she possessed.

His hands went to her hips as he pumped into her. Her moan as her own climax built again made him growl and buck, and she cried out as he reached a place even farther inside her.

Unexpectedly, he withdrew, then flipped her around and pushed her up against the fence, catching her under
the knee and lifting her leg until he could slip back inside her.

His mouth came down on hers, his tongue plunging deep and the thrust of his hips now agonizingly slow. He reached around and cradled the small of her back, grinding into her and making her throw her head from side to side as he touched some spot that sent sparks shooting all over again, and she arched, trying to keep him right there, on that spot.

“Oh, damn,” she rasped, her voice soaked in pleasure. Dazed, she opened her eyes. His face was inches away from hers as he continued to thrust into her, his gray eyes so intense they burned straight to her soul, and she knew in that moment that she’d never be the same again.

He reached up and tangled his fingers in her hair, tugging her scalp back so her throat was exposed. He raked his teeth down it, the silk of his hair brushing the underside of her jaw.

Her orgasm slammed into her with the exact force of Jammer’s body. She cried out his name as she convulsed around him. She arched, strung tight on the shattering pleasure, and took him over the edge with his own shout as he pistoned inside her while coming in a shuddering fury.

She held fast to him when it was over, and he held just as solidly to her, clasping her to him, even as she worked to keep her legs under her, her fingers in his hair, her face nestled in the crook of his neck.

She prayed for something that would break up the
thick feeling that seemed centered in the middle of her chest.

He was still clutching her, his face buried in her hair, as if he couldn’t, wouldn’t ever let her go.

A huge wave of emotion blindsided her and she brought her hand up and smoothed it over his face, down the back of his shirt and over his solid, bunched shoulder muscles.

She rubbed her face against his hair and when he raised his head, she captured his mouth, his full lips warm and moist and firm against hers.

She moved her mouth over the hard edge of his jaw, peppering his face with kisses until he grasped her chin and fastened his mouth over hers again.

They kissed slowly, savoring each other. Every moment of which quenched her thirst for him in a way the most savage, intense orgasms could never do.

It started to rain lightly and they ran for the cover of the farmhouse.

W
ITH THEIR GLORIOUS TRIP
to Tuscany behind them, Callie found their arrival in London jarring. All the people and activity hurt her eyes. Luckily, it was a quick cab ride from the airport to the Bank of London to pick up the payment.

Callie directed the cab driver to the Crowne Plaza Hotel, where they made their way directly to room 705. They knocked, and when their query was answered, they opened the door to greet Reggie.

He lounged in a chair near the window, one black-leather-clad leg thrown over the side. He was a dead
ringer for Billy Idol. From the blond spiked hair to his compact, muscular body to the tats, he was quite gorgeous. He even had that sneer of his full lips down to a T.

He was also one of Interpol’s most competent agents. Even Callie wasn’t sure how many languages he could speak. They called him “the chameleon” because he could change his character to fit into any situation. Callie had to admit that she’d come close to sleeping with him a couple of times, but had thought better of it. Too bad she hadn’t been able to resist Jammer that way.

Reggie rose to his six-two height as they entered. She could feel Jammer at her back and knew that he was already on edge. That in Callie’s book was dangerous. Throw in the fact that Jammer was now armed and it was even more imperative to do this deal and get out.

“Ah, Gina, my love. Is this big man your bodyguard?”

Callie rolled her eyes at him. “Cut it out, Reggie. You don’t want to yank on Jammer’s chain. He can so easily break it.”

Reggie smiled his full dazzling grin and stopped close to her. Too close. Very gently, he ran his hand up her arm.

“Ah ducks, you know I love the adrenaline rush. So don’t tease me.”

She tried not to laugh as she stepped away from his touch, but she couldn’t help it. Reggie was infectious. “Listen. We’ve got the payment, and transportation is set. So let’s get on with it.”

“On a tight schedule, are we?”

“Reggie, stop fooling around. This isn’t a Bond flick.”

“I’m so misunderstood,” he said. “I think of myself as more of a canny entrepreneur than a Bond villain.”

“Reggie,” Callie said, more firmly.

“Well, love, I’d be the last man to disappoint you.” His tone, full of sexual innuendo, only made Jammer tense more behind her. She leaned into him to show him that Reggie had no power over her.