Stepping out of the SUV, Trevor came around to her side to open her door. She took the hand he offered her, telling herself that she did it simply because the guards might be watching. But as she slipped her right leg out of the SUV, flashing a good amount of thigh, she admitted to herself that maybe she did it because it gave her a chance to get a rise out of him.
And yeah…he looked. All the way from thigh to ankle and back up again.
“You really do look amazing in that dress,” he murmured, pushing the door closed.
“You look pretty damn good yourself,” she said as she rested one hand on his arm and let him escort her across the parking lot. She actually appreciated the assist. It had been a while since she’d worn heels this high. She was out of practice.
“You were saying something about how our guy got through immigration?” she prompted softly.
Trevor’s mouth twitched. “I do remember vaguely saying something about that. Before you derailed my train of thought.”
She laughed. Damn, he could be seriously smooth when he wanted.
“It turns out Mr. Shishani had a sponsor with enough power to pull the right strings,” Trevor explained. “That sponsor got our guy in the country with limited State Department review, accelerating his naturalization paperwork and getting him through in record time.”
Alina noticed the two guards watching them as they approached the front doors. The muscle-bound suits were eyeballing them so hard the building could have fallen down behind them and they probably wouldn’t have noticed.
“And what’s the connection between this guy and John?” she asked.
Trevor stopped, turning to look at her. “None between Shishani and John, but the guy who sponsored Shishani and got him into the country? Yeah, there’s definitely a connection.”
She blinked in surprise. “You’re saying Thomas Thorn brought a Chechen-born bomber into the United States and paid him to kill John Loughlin?”
Trevor didn’t answer but merely started for the entrance again. The guards opened the doors for them without a word. Once they were inside the little hallway that led to another set of double doors and the restaurant beyond, he stopped.
“There’s no indication Shishani ever came onto the training complex, but he definitely had the know-how to make the bomb, and the attack matched his style perfectly. Throw in his connection to Thorn and the fact that he’s been spending money like it’s going out of style the past few weeks, and that makes him somebody worth checking out.”
Alina let that sink in for a moment. “I would have preferred to hear some of this stuff before we’d gotten here, but for now, let’s assume everything you think you know is right. What do you hope to get out of this guy? I’m pretty sure we’re not going to get a spontaneous confession from him.”
Trevor shrugged as he motioned her forward and opened the door for her. “I can be very persuasive when I want to. You’d be amazed what you can get out of people when you say please.”
Alina would have called him on that, but the smell of cigar and cigarette smoke hit her so hard, she couldn’t breathe, much less talk. So much for a smoke-free Maryland.
She scanned the bar along the right side of the room, then the booths on the left, and the tables and chairs filling the space in between. Beyond the bar, she could see a nondescript door, which could just as well have led to a storage room or an office if it wasn’t for the big, muscle-bound bouncers standing on either side of it.
“What’s the plan here?” she asked Trevor quietly as the restaurant’s patrons eyed them curiously. “Because I don’t see anyone warming up to us enough to invite us into the back room.”
“We’re Trevor and Alina Hoffman, a filthy rich, newly married couple from Silicon Valley,” Trevor said, glancing around as if taking in the ambience. “We’ve been on an extended honeymoon for the past few months and are currently heading for a trans-Atlantic cruise out of New York City. We decided to do some gambling and got tired of dealing with all the crap at the local casino.”
“You think they’ll buy that?” she asked as he led her across the room toward the door with the guards.
“You sell the fact that we’re a newly married couple, and I’ll make them believe I’m a rich guy with a gambling addiction.”
She could do that. Then she realized one big flaw in their cover story. “If we’re a newly married couple, shouldn’t I be wearing a ring?”
Trevor gave her a sidelong glance. “What makes you think you aren’t?”
She looked down at her hand in confusion and almost fell off her stacked heels as she saw the monstrously large diamond he’d somehow slipped onto her ring finger when she wasn’t looking. Oh crud, it was huge! And as beautiful as any she’d ever seen.
“When did you put this on? More importantly, is this thing real?” she whispered.
Thank goodness she had his arm to keep her steady. She was feeling faint at the idea of wearing a diamond that was probably worth more than her entire apartment.
“I put it on you when we were married on the first of June in Monaco,” he whispered back. “And of course it’s real. I would never put something fake on the love of my life.”
“Trevor, I’m serious,” she said.
He made a face. “Okay. I slipped it on your finger when I was helping you out of the SUV. And yes, it’s real, so don’t lose it. I had to sign my life away to get it out of the DCO safes.”
