The Secret Brokers (21 page)

“No, he forgot to tell me about that,” Dallas admitted. “But it sounds like something Lance would do.”

“And still you stand here and question me about the insignificant ramblings of a man whose only goal in life is to have sex with more women than Hugh Heffner.”

“Lance is a notorious playboy, I will grant you that. But I have worked with him enough in the past to know I can trust what he tells me.”

Gwen threw her hands in the air. “So you think you can trust him more than me. Is that it?”

“I know Lance. You I’m still trying to figure out.”

“Oh, and was kissing me supposed to help you figure me out? Or was that strictly for entertainment purposes?”

Dallas grinned. “Wanting you is not the same as knowing you.”

Her pale face turned a lovely shade of crimson as her blue-green eyes grew in size. “But wanting me has got nothing to do with getting to know me in your book. It’s just sex, right
…a
quick roll in the sack to pass the time
. Once
the assignment is over you’ll head back to your empty existence in New York and forget all about me.”

“It’s not an empty existence,” he defended.

Gwen waved her hand down his body. “Jesus Christ, look at you! Of course it’s an empty existence. I’ve never met
anyone
so hollow inside. You walk around with a perpetual scowl on your face, looking for the slightest bit of deception in everyone.”

Dallas felt his blood begin to simmer. “Stop turning every conversation I start about you into a litany of my faults. You always do that. You skew everything around so we end up talking about me and not you,” he said, raising his voice. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

Gwen folded her arms across her chest as the redness receded from her cheeks. “
Whoever
she was, she’s not worth this. There are many ways to die, but allowing someone to kill you from the inside out is probably the most pathetic.”

Dallas clenched his fists. “You know nothing about me, Gwen,” he growled.

“I know a hell of a lot more about you than you think.” She turned around and walked back into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Dallas tried to avoid Gwen for the rest of the evening. He spent most of his time in Carl’s study, hovering close to the bar. He hated to admit it, but Lance was right. The woman had gotten to him, and her words from earlier in the day still stung as he lifted his third glass of Stoli and soda to his lips. As he sat in a leather chair, staring out a round window that overlooked the back patio, he thought about Gwen.

Not being able to understand the woman was eating at him. He had always prided himself on his ability to read people like a book, find their weaknesses, and get what he needed out of them. But Gwen was different. It was as if she were able to read his thoughts, and then cut him off at the knees.

He got up from his chair and walked to the bar. He put his glass down on the black granite counter top and was about to reach for the bottle of Stoli, when he heard the door to the study open.

“I was wondering where you had disappeared to,” Gwen commented from the doorway.

Dallas did not turn to acknowledge her. He picked up the bottle of vodka and poured himself another drink.

“How many is that now?” she asked.

He put the bottle down on the bar. “Does it matter?”

“You won’t be very good to me as a bodyguard if you’re drunk.”

Dallas finally turned and looked her in the eye. “Takes a hell of a lot to get me drunk, sweetheart.”

Gwen raised her eyebrows as she slowly entered the room. “Sweetheart? Now I know you’re under the influence. That’s the first endearment you’ve said to me since we met.”

He picked up his glass and held it in his hands as he rested his hip against the bar. “Well, you may not have to put up with me for much longer. When Lance was here he told me that the jury is going to get the Robertson case after closing arguments tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? That fast. I thought it would take at least another week for the defense—”

“There was no defense,” Dallas stated, silencing her. “Lance said the defense barely presented a case. So they either have no case or they know something that the rest of us don’t. Either way, looks like you’ll be free of me a lot sooner than expected.”

He went back to his chair and sat down. Dallas turned his attention to the waterfall outside his window, wanting to avoid Gwen’s intrusive eyes.

“So I guess you’re pretty happy about the early reprieve,” she commented.

Dallas lifted his glass to his lips. “As are you.”

Gwen slowly made her way across the room to his chair. “But I’m not the one celebrating.” She eased her figure in front of his line of sight. “I know I haven’t been the easiest creature in the world to deal with.”

“No argument here,” he said, peering down into his glass.

“And I’m sorry about attacking you earlier.” She lowered her head slightly. Her silky blond hair fell around her slender face. “But I was upset that you would believe Lance instead of me. He’s not one of my favorite people, and that you trusted him more than me…hurt.”

Dallas took another sip from his drink. “I don’t see the point in rehashing that subject again.”

She took the glass from his hand. “You drink when you’re frustrated, don’t you, Dallas?”

“I’m getting really tired of your in-depth analysis of my emotions, Gwen.” He stood from the chair and grabbed for his drink

But Gwen took a step back from him, holding the glass just out of his reach. As Dallas took another move toward her, Gwen stepped back again. He made another step, and then another, but each time Gwen backed away from him. Dallas increased the speed of his advance until Gwen found her withdrawal halted by the bar behind her. With one last look of defiance, she turned and dumped his drink in the sink behind the bar.

“You
.
…” Dallas growled as he finally reached her.

He set his hands on the bar behind her, trapping her in his arms. “You like playing games with me. I think you’ve been playing games with me since the moment I first laid eyes on you.”

“
And I have felt like you have been manipulating me since I saw you getting out of that silly red Mercedes.”

Dallas moved his body closer to her. He suggestively pressed his hips into her as he smelled her jasmine-scented hair. The glass in her hand dropped on to the counter with a clank. Gwen ran her hands up his arms as her hot breath teased the skin along the base of his neck.

“So what are we going to do about this?” he asked.

“What would you suggest?” She lifted her head to him.

“A truce,” Dallas offered.

“For how long?”

“One night,” he answered and lowered his head to her.

“I’ll think about it.”

His lips were poised over hers. “Let me know what you decide.”

She placed her arms about his neck “I’ll tell you…in the morning ”

Dallas closed his mouth over hers and pulled her into his arms.

He ran his hands along her waist and hips, until he found his way to her round bottom. He grabbed at her buttocks and lifted her onto the bar.

She hurriedly began pulling at the buttons on his shirt as Dallas tempted her neck with kisses. After wrestling his shirt open, Gwen kissed the smooth skin on his chest, and then she took his right nipple in her mouth and bit down hard.

Dallas groaned into her hair as she started undoing the zipper on his jeans. He picked her up from the bar and carried her to the red, oval throw rug in the center of the room. As he laid her down on the soft rug, he tenderly kissed around the bandage on her upper left arm.

“Maybe we should go upstairs,” Gwen murmured against his neck.

Dallas pulled her T-shirt over her head. “I don’t think I want to wait.”

She placed her hands over his swollen crotch. “Neither do I.”

She was easing his jeans over his firm backside when the doorbell rang.

Dallas immediately sat up. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Gwen laughed into his chest. “I’ll bet it’s Lance with more fish food.”

Dallas got up from the floor and pulled up his jeans. “I better get it. You go upstairs.” He held out his hand and lifted her from the floor. “I’ll get rid of whoever it is,” he assured her.

“I’ll be waiting in my bed,” she whispered to him.

Dallas grinned at her. “You do that.”

Gwen picked up her shirt from the floor and scurried out of the room.

Running his hands over his face, Dallas took a moment to collect himself. As he headed for the door, he began buttoning up his shirt.

When he reached the front door, he punched in the security code.

“What did you forget—” he began as he opened the door, but stopped when he saw Agent Al Brewster standing beyond the doorway.

“We saw Lance Beauvoir leaving here earlier. I expect he told you about the trial,” Brewster said as he focused his dark eyes on Dallas.

“Lance also brought fish food, but I guess you knew that already.”

Brewster grinned, but still somehow managed to look unamused. “Once that verdict is read, our protection of Ms. Marsh ceases. I just wanted to make sure she is prepared for the consequences if the verdict is not guilty.”

“She knows the ramifications, Brewster.” He paused for a moment. “You didn’t knock on this door just to tell me that.”

Brewster reached into his jacket and pulled his Sig Sauer P226 from its holster.
He pointed the gun in Dallas’s face.

Dallas slowly raised his hands. “I’m pretty sure Gwen won’t agree to your terms even with that,” he calmly advised as he nodded to the gun.

Brewster slipped inside the door and quickly glanced over his shoulder at the street outside.
He shut the door behind him and waved the gun at the keypad.

“Punch in the code. And don’t do anything stupid, or I’ll shoot you right here,” Brewster ordered.

Dallas thought about punching in the wrong code, and then he remembered Gwen. If he did that and the alarm went off, Brewster would surely shoot him and eventually Gwen. He cursed Lance for not showing him the intricacies of the alarm system. He figured something this detailed had to have some sort of panic code or button, but he could not chance experimenting with the security as long as Brewster was in the house.

Dallas punched in the code. “And what are you going to do? Kill us? Is that what Dan Wilbur ordered you to do?”

Brewster avidly watched Dallas’s every move. “Not quite,” he replied. “I’m not here on Bureau business. Robertson wants to make sure he has some insurance to turn the trial his way. I take the girl and her old man recants his testimony. Then the trial gets thrown out, no matter what the jury decides.”

Dallas felt his gut twist in disgust. “So you’ve been working for Robertson,” he reasoned. “How long has this been going on?”

“Since I discovered that retiring on a government pension wasn’t going to be quite enough for me. Robertson has always had his fingers in this operation.”

“And your partner, Crawford? Is he in on the deal?”

Brewster inspected the control panel and saw the green light shining. “I’ve already taken care of Crawford. Once I have the girl, I’ll bring his body inside and leave it next to yours. That should give the local police something to wonder about for a few days.”

While keeping his gun aimed at Dallas, Brewster ran his hands lightly over Dallas’s jeans, frisking him. He stepped back from Dallas and motioned to the foyer.

“Now, lets go and find Gwen. Make sure you keep your hands where I can see them, August.”

Dallas kept his hands raised in front of him as he moved into the grand foyer. “I hope what Robertson is paying you is enough for all of the problems you’re creating for yourself. Dan Wilbur will hunt you down to the ends of the earth to clear his name.”

“Dan Wilbur is a pencil-pushing geek that hasn’t stepped out of his office in ten years. I know about you and his dead sister. I checked into you, August, as soon as you showed up at Gwen’s. Dan filled me in on the rest. I’ve got to hand it you though. When he told me about you and Nicci Beauvoir, I was impressed. Shame it didn’t work out.”

Dallas approached the curved mahogany staircase. “If you know about Nicci, then you know what I do, and who hired me.” Dallas stopped and slowly turned to face him.

Brewster raised the gun slightly higher, keeping his aim on Dallas. “Carl Bordonaro is not my concern. One hired thug is the same as any other to that man. And I seriously doubt he’ll be too sad to hear about Gwen’s abduction either. Bordonaro will do whatever he can to save his little empire. And if that means forming an alliance with Robertson and turning on his friend Ed Pioth, then I’m sure he’ll be happy to do it.”

“And what about Robertson turning on you? You don’t think he will give you to Bordonaro as a peace offering? Any way you write this, Brewster, you’re going to die in the end.”

“They’ll have to find me first.” He looked up the stairs. “Where’s the girl?”