tomorrow at the conference. If I forget, look for me, yeah? I'll be around.'
'Thank you.' Sharon's exuberant friendliness was beginning to wear Iris out, so she took her leave and headed for the exit.
'Your water.' Maddox's voice stopped her midstep.
She turned to find him holding a bottle of water, 'Thanks.' She lowered her voice. 'I have some information'
'Me, too. I'll tell you about it later.' He handed her a bottle of cold water. 'Who's the sheikh?'
There was an odd tone to Maddox's voice, a guardedness that she hadn't heard from him before. She glanced back at the table, where Tahir Mahmoud was taking his leave from Andrea Barksdale. 'His name is Tahir Mahmoud. He's from Kaziristan.'
A sudden jolt of darkness roiled through her, making her legs grow wobbly. She reached for Maddox's arm to steady herself, but touching him only intensified the feeling. She pulled back, gripping the nearby door frame.
'Are you okay?' Maddox started toward her.
She put up her hand to stop him, 'Just lost my balance on these darned shoes.'
His gaze dropped to her low-heeled pumps. He looked back up at her, his expression guarded. 'Go rest. I'll check on you when the party's over.'
She should tell him not to bother. She was tired. She had a killer headache starting to form at the base of her skull. Her feet still ached from feeling the pinch of Andrea Baiksdale's spike heels, and the double shot of black emotion from both Tahir and Maddox lingered like nausea.
But when she spoke, she said. 'Thanks, I'll wait up.' And kicked herself for it all the way back to her room.
Maddox handed the last empty tray to Darlene in the kitchen. 'The last folks are leaving. Need help cleaning up?'
She waved him away. 'You know they'll kill me dead if I put a waiter on the cleanup. They don't wanna pay you the extra. Maddox.'
'I'll do it under the table.' he said, his sly grin rendering the offer risque.
She grinned saucily. 'Go on with your naughty self, I know better than to do the cha-cha with a fella like you.'
He changed back into his street clothes in the employee bathroom and headed out the back to check on his Harley. It was still sitting, intact, in the parking lot.
But knowing he was living on borrowed time, he flagged down the night shift security guard passing by on his rounds and slipped him a twenty to watch over the bike for the next few hours.He rounded the side of the hotel, heading for the front, but stopped when he heard a familiar voice around the comer.
'It is not a good idea.' Tahir Mahmoud's soft, clipped accent carried through the clear night air.
'I have no plausible reason to remain silent' The second speaker was also male, his voice pitched a few tones higher than Mahmoud's. He had a strong Russian accent. 'What shall I say?'
'Nothing. I will take care of it.' Tahir's voice grew softer, as if he was moving away.
Maddox turned the corner and spotted the Kaziristani and his Russian-accented companion, an older, rail-thin man in his fifties, walking up the steps to the hotel entrance. Maddox stayed in the shadows, watching them disappear inside. He released a slow, unsteady breath.
A Kaziristani. Here. What were the odds?
He made himself keep moving, slowed his racing heartbeat to match the steady cadence of his footfalls on the granite steps of the hotel entrance. Inside, a blast of cool air dried the pearls of perspiration dotting his forehead.
Several guests milled about the lobby, some checking in, others taking advantage of the hotel lounge, Tahir Malinioud and the Russian man were nowhere to be seen. Maddox's heartbeat slowed further. The blackness filling his chest and gut began to recede.
Three years ago, he reminded himself A lifetime.
It felt more like three minutes.
Iris threw the pencil on the desk and flexed her hands and wrists, gazing at the sketch of the bearded man with a critical eye. It was a good likeness, she decided, though it lacked something-the essence of who he was inside, perhaps, since she'd read almost nothing from him but emptiness during their brief encounter.
Still, anyone who had seen him would recognize him from the sketch. She'd show it around at the seminar in the morning, see if anyone knew who he was. A sudden chill washed over her sending goose bumps along her arms and legs. The cold slowly faded, replaced by a strange, jittery sensation that fluttered like a frantic moth.
A knock on her door made her jump. She padded to the door and peered through the security lens. It was Maddox.
She unlatched the security chain and opened the door. Maddox stood with one hand on the door frame, his eyes hooded by his furrowed brow. 'I'm not sure I should be here.'
The raw honesty in his voice was a surprise. She was used to his glib, sexy-devil side. 'Are you all right?'
He straightened slowly. Within the span of a second, the Southern bad boy was back. 'Just a bad mood, sugar. I get that way when a bunch of suits order me around all night. Why don't I catch you in the morning?'
She touched his arm, steeling herself against the darkness she knew lurked inside him. 'Why don't you come in for a minute and let me tell you what I learned?'
She didn't let go of his arm as she led him to the chair across from her bed. The nausea in the pit of her belly roiled, but she ground her teeth and held herself together, drawing the blackness out of him and into herself He looked up at her, confusion in his expression. The sensation pouring into her changed suddenly, the dark emotions eclipsed by a flood of relief. She released his arm.
His gaze dropped. When he spoke, his voice sounded strange. Shaky. 'What did you find out on your little reconnaissance mission, sugar?'
'There's a scientist who's the head of the Cassandra Society. Dr.Grinkov, He apparently pulled aside some of the conference attendees for a special focus group '
Maddox's head jerked up. 'Dr.Grinkov?'
'Boris Grinkov. He's a former Soviet scientist whose field of expertise is parapsychology.' She cocked her head. 'Ever heard of him?'
Maddox's expression darkened. 'I think I saw him.'
'Dr.Grinkov?' she asked, surprised. 'When? Where?'
'Just a minute ago, outside the hotel.' A grim smile spread over his face. His eyes met hers, as dark as a stormy sky, 'Talking to your buddy. Tahir Mahmoud.'
Chapter Six
Iris frowned. 'Are you sure?'
'Well, it was some older guy with a Russian accent. How many of those can there be around here?'
'Strange. Tahirsaid he didn't know Dr.Grinkov'
'People lie.' Maddox countered. 'Just because he bows and talks pretty doesn't mean a fellow's on the up- and-up'
She bristled, 'I know that'
He dimpled, but the smile escaped his eyes. 'I'm beginning to wonder if you do. I mean, here you are, all alone in your hotel room with a fellow you didn't even know before this morning. They could make you the poster child for what not to do when you're on vacation in a foreign country.'
The danger she felt from Maddox had nothing to do with physical safety. 'Should I call the police on you?'
His eyes darkened. 'Probably.'
The air around them sparked with tension. She forced her gaze away before she did something she couldn't take back, 'Do you know Tahir Mahmoud?'
His long pause made her look up at him again. 'No.' He cleared his throat. 'You said something about a focus
