child, and he has no intention of acquiring another wife. He gets tired of them and he kills them. Men like him and Khalid are a disease, Marty. One that requires a cure.”
Hatred gleamed in his eyes as the fury seemed to build within him.
“That’s not your call, Deerfield,” she argued. “And a man’s sexual tastes don’t define him, nor do they make him a murderer.”
“They do when he kills the stupid bitches willing to fuck him and his brother at the same time. Silly little whores who fool themselves into believing those men love them, only to learn they’re no more than a toy. Then you’re damned right, it defines him.”
“You’re losing your objectivity,” she said, backing slowly to the door. “Nothing you’ve said here warrants the Bureau’s harassment of him. If you’re not very careful, he’s going to have a lawsuit against the entire Bureau.”
Deerfield smirked at her warning.
“Worry about yourself, I’ll worry about the Bureau. That’s my job, and I’m damned good at it.”
“My job is nearly over,” she warned him. “Khalid is no traitor, and he’s no murderer-”
Deerfield broke her argument off with a sharp, derisive laugh.
“You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you? Wouldn’t your father be proud to know how far you’ll end up sinking for that bastard? Would you betray your country for him, Agent Mathews? Would you let him watch as another man fucks you?”
“You’ve lost your mind,” she breathed out roughly.
“Ask him about her,” he snarled, his expression twisting into lines of fury. “Her name was Lessa. She was Abram’s wife. A tiny little thing who they broke.” His gaze flicked over her in scorn. “I hope you never experience the horror she must have faced as they fucked her to death.”
“I don’t have to ask him about anything. Khalid isn’t a monster, and he’d never hurt one of his lovers, or anyone else’s. And I will remind you, you’re the one who put me on that assignment to watch him. It was your responsibility to tell me everything, no matter the fact that someone else believed the information irrelevant.”
“I didn’t tell you to fuck him!”
“Speak to me like that again and you’ll regret it.” Marty’s fingers clenched her purse even tighter as anger coursed through her. “I’ve taken your abusive tirades long enough, Deerfield.”
“For God’s sake, do you think I’d bother to berate you if I didn’t think you’d make a damned fine agent one of these days?” Surprise seemed to reflect in his expression now as he held his hands out in supplication. “You’re risking your life and your career with this man.”
“And I will remind you that it’s no longer your concern.” She could feel her heart racing, adrenaline surging through her as she recognized the fact that her boss’s sanity just might be slipping.
“I thought you were smarter than this.” He shook his head slowly. “Damn. I thought you were a better agent than this.”
Marty gripped the doorknob behind her and stared at him in fury. “I think you should sit down and think about what you’re doing, Deerfield,” she told him coldly. “You’re the one risking your life. You’re the one whose career is already shot to hell. Don’t make it worse.”
He smiled slowly, confidently. “I’ll win in the end.”
“Don’t bet on it.” As she jerked the door open she threw him a hard, enraged look before turning and stepping back into the hall.
She was trembling with anger as she slammed the door closed and came face-to-face with Shayne.
His blue eyes were as cold as ice, his body tense with anger as he stared at her, then at the door.
“You heard?” she asked.
His jaw clenched. “It was hard not to. And you’re damned lucky Khalid didn’t. He would have killed the bastard for talking to you like that.”
As she moved away from the room, Marty glanced back at the door, wondering what Deerfield was doing inside.
Marty shook her head at the instability she had glimpsed in her former boss before drawing in a hard breath and asking, “Who is Lessa Hadad, Shayne?”
Silence met her question for long moments. “She was Abram’s wife,” he finally said. “If you have any other questions concerning her, then you should ask Khalid.”
“Khalid hasn’t mentioned her yet,” she pointed out stiffly. “What did she mean to him?”
He stopped her before they stepped back into the ballroom.
“Ask Khalid about this, Marty. Let him explain Lessa to you. But be very careful. Remember, Khalid is the way he is for a reason. Sometimes, once the darkness takes hold of you, you don’t want to ever return to the memories that caused it.”
As Marty walked away from him, that statement stayed with her. There was definitely a darkness raging inside Khalid, one he battled often when it came to standing back rather than interfering in the career she had chosen for herself.
He was allowing her to be who she needed to be. No matter his disagreement with it, he was standing back. She could see the torment in his face when he did so, just as she had glimpsed his fear for her more than once.
As she moved across the ballroom, she caught sight of several familiar faces. Men she knew were members of the club had gathered around AT at the other side of the room. They were talking quietly among themselves, several of them nodding seriously.
AT was always plotting and planning.
Ian Sinclair was part of that group. He watched AT with narrow-eyed intent before he nodded carefully and glanced out over the room and saw her.
Amusement marked his expression. Evidently there were no hard feelings about the fact that she had managed to slip into his club.
She returned to where Khalid stood with her fathers and mother.
There was a sense of readiness that filled the three men. As Shayne joined them seconds later, that readiness intensified.
“Everything’s in place.” Her godfather leaned close to her. “We’ve picked up two transmissions from here since you and Khalid arrived. They spoke with Ayid, who promised to be on a plane to D.C. ASAP, since the man he sent here couldn’t seem to do the job right. We have assets moving in there to let us know when he moved.”
Staring out over the ballroom, Marty hoped the operation worked out quickly. She had a feeling that if it didn’t, she and Khalid could be facing more danger than she had imagined. “Then he isn’t here in the States yet?” she asked as she turned to Khalid.
He pulled her to his side, his fingers clasping her hips possessively. “Not yet.”
Marty nodded slowly. It wouldn’t be long, she told herself. Ayid Mustafa would take whatever chance he had to destroy Khalid.
As she stood next to Khalid, she noticed something. The way he held her, close to his side. The way his body turned into hers. She had never seen him hold another woman in quite that fashion. Had never heard of him keeping one at his side.
He loved her.
She stared at him, admitting silently that she had loved him most of her life. She had loved him with a certainty, a confidence that the day would come when she would have at least a chance to steal his heart.
Had she managed that?
There were times she thought it possible. There were times she feared she still might have a ways to go.
Feeling his hand settle possessively at the small of her back once again, she turned to stare up at him with all the fears, all the needs that were becoming harder and harder to hold inside her.
“Dance with me.” Taking her hand he stepped back, watching her, waiting on her to accept. “Shayne’s meeting with a contact tonight, but we’ll be leaving soon, ourselves.”
He was dominant, but he wasn’t overbearing. He was arrogant, but his arrogance was always tinged with logic,
