“She doesn’t talk much, Amber. Not with me anyway. In fact, the only way to get the woman to respond to me is to…” There was another pause, and then a short bark of laughter. “Never mind. I’m sorry to burden you with these things when there are bigger problems at hand. Can you pass on the message that I’ve set up the interview time and date and that she really needs to contact me so we’re all on the same page?”
“Of course,” Amber replied quietly. “I can do that, Brad. And you know you can talk to me anytime about anything.”
“Thanks. Goodnight.”
Brad hit the red button on his cell phone and slipped it into his pocket. Damn it all to hell. He sounded like a lovelorn schoolboy obsessing about his first crush.
Different from other women. Wasn’t that supposed to be why a man became interested in a woman?
He looked down at the open file on his desk. When he had first met Amber and Lily, he had used his insider contacts to find out more about them. They were, as he had suspected, not what they seemed. He studied the small photograph of Lily in the file. She was different, all right. Obsession, that must be it. Why else would he be so drawn to a woman who was so casual about breaking laws?
Europol Databank had produced quite a bit of Llallana Noretski’s background. She had appeared out of nowhere, it seemed, running into trouble with the law for theft and robbery. She had been a runaway, living off petty crime. She had spent some time with mercenaries before disappearing for a year. When she showed up again, she had remade herself. Officially, she was now an art procurer for small firms throughout Europe. He didn’t doubt that there was something gray going on under that business, but the files hadn’t provided any more information.
Probably blocked or wiped off by certain people. However, Brad could read between the lines. Her working with Amber, who was under contract with the CIA, was enough to show that she wasn’t just an art procurer. Brad traced the outline of her face on the photo.
Yet there was more to Llallana Noretski than being a criminal. She might be funding the escape of those kidnapped girls through illegal means, but at least she was doing something about the problem in her own way. He didn’t approve, but part of him secretly envied her ability to skip the hurdles created by laws meant to protect the innocent, but that had become impediments. In a society where crime ran rampant and there were more criminals than law keepers, bureaucracy was useless.
Brad’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. Which meant that he was fucking useless. Everything was twisted into some kind of warped justice. Lily was Robin Hood, saving the helpless. He was the fucking sheriff of Nottingham, or at least the bureaucracy was, what with so many around him on the take from the KLA. No wonder she looked at him as if he were garbage.
But not last night.
He traced the photograph again. Last night, she had that look again. She had gazed at him with the kind of yearning that made a man think of nothing but the blood pounding between his legs. There hadn’t been contempt in those dark eyes then. Not the moments before he’d kissed her. Not when she unzipped his pants and put her hands inside.
Brad closed his eyes, remembering her touch. It had been years since he had made out on a living room couch, but he didn’t seem to have any control at all when it came to Lily. The moment she had touched his zipper, he was a goner.
He would never be able to sit in that damn living room and simply watch a movie again. Not when he had been lying there as Lily slid off the sofa to settle between his legs, her sweet mouth driving him out of his mind. She hadn’t given him a chance to say anything, her tongue and lips—
“Sweet Jesus,” muttered Brad, feeling himself getting hard again.
He opened his eyes, massaging the area between his brows. What the hell was wrong with him? This was his office and he was thinking about sex. That was the problem. There hadn’t been sex. The woman had taken him to the brink and wanting to be inside her, he had pulled her onto his lap. Had inserted a desperate hand between her legs and found her panties damp. Had pushed the material aside desperately. She had gasped at his touch. He had been quite sure she gasped. He had slid his fingers inside and she had leaned over him with a moan. He had been sure there was a moan, as she clenched and contracted and…before he even knew it, she was off his lap, panic in her eyes as she stumbled and ran off.
By the time he had gotten his wayward penis back into his pants so he could go after her, Lily was gone. All he had left was her scent on his hand.
He hadn’t been able to sleep all night. Had she? What the hell went wrong? Everything had been fine until that moment. She had been soft and needy, wanting him—he knew she had wanted him.
She had driven him wild with her mouth. She had been wet for him and was close to coming herself—he’d felt her starting to come.And then…he shook his head…why did she stop it there, when they had both been so close?
The phone rang, cutting through his thoughts. Brad picked the receiver.
“Sir, that earlier report about a battle has been confirmed as gang warfare. NATO peacekeepers are on the way there. The commander is still waiting for orders, though.”
Brad frowned. “Why?”
“On which side to take out, sir.”
“Both sides,” Brad said. “They are both gangs, right? Bomb them to oblivion.”
“It isn’t that simple, sir. NATO has an agreement with the KLA that they won’t interfere with any local incidents if it’s outside jurisdiction areas.”
“There aren’t any areas not under NATO jurisdiction,” Brad pointed out. But he knew what was coming. NATO, the entity formed by European countries and the United States to defend Europe from the Soviet Union, had no power to attack unless specifically ordered by special sessions. Gang warfare outside the cities and villages technically didn’t fall under the category of defending citizens. When the underling started to explain, Brad cut in, “You don’t have to cite me bylaws and subarticles, Victor. At this late hour, I doubt there’ll be any Orders coming down till morning, and by then, who knows what will be left of the battle? Just make sure you get some information from the peacekeepers who are heading that way. Try to find out who and what’s involved. If it’s an emergency, call my cell or beeper.”
“Yes, sir.”
Brad rang off. He had stayed in the office later than usual because he hadn’t wanted to go home and look at that couch. He put away the file on his desk, picking up the thickest folder in his in-box to take home with him. Lots of work. That ought to banish the image of Llallana Noretski kneeling between his thighs, her hands and lips—Brad let out a colorful expletive between gritted teeth. Frustration didn’t sit well on an empty stomach. He hadn’t wanted dinner for the same reason he had avoided driving home. It was going to be a long night.
Hawk accepted the bottle of beer from the woman whose house Dilaver’s men had invaded. There was fear in her eyes as she served them whatever food and drinks she had. She kept darting worried glances at her kitchen and he had a feeling that someone was hiding back there. He wanted to tell her to stop giving herself away like that, but Dilaver was sitting nearby.
“So what do you think of my loot, Hawk?” Dilaver peeled a banana, nodding curtly at the woman when she offered him a fresh bottle of beer. “I want fresh meat for dinner and not some canned shit. You’d better have something good in that larder, lady.”
