His face spread into another bone-melting smile. May God have mercy on her panties because that smile certainly wouldn’t.
“The thing about men like Grafton,” he said, “is they are so used to worrying about how technology can bring them down that they don’t consider simpler means of communication. The Black Knights have kept eyes on Grafton Manor these past two weeks. Every night, I used Morse code to update them on the situation.”
“Wow.” She shook her head in wonder. Angel really was a super-stud spy guy. “And Grafton? What did you plan to do with him?”
“Initially, I was going to gather all the Intel I could on him until I felt I had enough to bring him and his empire down. But that flew out the window when he asked me to procure the fissile material.” He gripped the steering wheel, drawing her eyes to his long, strong fingers.
In a flash, she was pulled back to the night before. To how it’d felt to have those hands on her face, her breast and—
She mentally slapped herself across the face to get her mind back on track.
“Then my mission became more complex in some ways,” he continued. “Simpler in others. Instead of bringing down one bad guy, the Black Knights needed to bring down three. But, at the same time, no need for me to gather much Intel on Grafton. My testimony and the proof I have of the exchange of nuclear material is enough to levy charges against him and bring him in. The hope is that, once he is in custody, he will give up some of his criminal compatriots for lighter sentencing.”
A ball of warmth glowed in Sonya’s chest. Red roses of happiness bloomed in her cheeks. “You might not need to compromise on his sentencing.”
Angel’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’ve gathered enough evidence against him to dismantle his organization.”
One perfect eyebrow slowly climbed up Angel’s forehead. She saw the intrigue—and was that admiration?—glowing in his fathomless eyes. If she’d had a football handy, she would have spiked it into the ground and yelled, Booyah! Score one for Agent Butler!
Chapter 16
Angel eyed Sonya’s wide smile. It was the same one she’d worn the day they met in Paris. A little naughty. A little nice. Full of mischief.
His heart rejoiced at the sight. At the proof the woman he loved was still alive and well. He wanted to pull her into his arms and smother her in the kind of kisses he knew she liked. Deep, wet, soulful kisses that made her moan and arch against him. And yet…there were questions that needed answers.
“Interpol does no direct investigation,” he asserted adamantly. “They don’t send agents undercover.”
“True.” She shrugged one delicate shoulder, reminding him of how she used to gasp when he sank his teeth into the tender flesh there as they made love. “But that was before Spider.”
“Explain.”
She snorted and snapped him a sarcastic salute. “Aye, aye, Captain.”
He worked to soften his expression. He’d been so hardened by the years he’d spent undercover that he’d basically become one big callus. Social niceties were no longer his forte.
Not that they ever really had been.
“Sorry.” He shook his head. “What I should have said was, would you mind explaining?”
Humor danced in her eyes. “I suppose not. Turnabout is fair play, after all. But where should I start?” She tapped her upper lip. That plump pad that used to look so soft and succulent when it was wrapped around his—
“I guess I should start with my boss, Zhao Longwei,” she said, cutting into his thoughts. Thank God. Now was not the time. And the cramped and disgusting conditions of the stolen vehicle were certainly not the place. “He started seeing a pattern in cases around the globe. Cases that mentioned the code name Spider. He wrote a memo detailing his findings and sent it out to every policing and Intelligence organization Interpol has ties with. According to him, no one was interested in his theory that some shadowy character had his fingers in various and sundry black-market pots. In some cases, he butted up against so much skepticism he began to suspect Spider had people on the inside of some of these policing and Intelligence organizations.”
“How did he discover Spider was Lord Asad Grafton?”
“By happy accident.” She took a deep breath. She always did that right before she launched into a long story.
It was crazy the stuff he remembered. Or maybe it wasn’t so crazy. After all, Sonya had etched herself into his heart, so was it any wonder every little thing about her was also etched into his brain?
“I liaised on an investigation between Scotland Yard and the Préfecture de police de Paris.” He loved how she used the French pronunciation. Nothing was sexier than Sonya speaking French. Unless, of course, it was Sonya speaking Hebrew. “It was a case involving illegal blood diamonds being smuggled across the English Channel from Calais to Dover. When the French police came across a connection between the shipments and payments to an account in the Cayman Islands held by none other than Lord Asad Grafton, I expected Scotland Yard to jump on the information and arrest the Dummkopf.” He hid a smile at the German word for dumbass. “But they didn’t. They gave the French police some song and dance about bad Intel, and the matter was dropped.”
“Which made you suspicious.”
“Hell yeah, it did.”
