Читать книгу Take Me If You Dare - Candace Havens - Страница 8

JACKSON COULDN’T believe his luck. Mariska Stonegate landing in his lap was a gift. That they’d both ended up in the same hotel bar looking for information was nothing short of divine intervention. He’d have to thank the universe the first chance he had. Of course right then he had to concentrate on keeping his pants from tenting.

He knew what she meant by the “bed” comment. She’d arrived in Thailand after an eighteen-hour flight, but parts of his body weren’t as understanding as his brain. Shifting in his seat, he imagined a nice cold shower.

It wasn’t easy, since Mariska Stonegate was beyond enticing. Long legs poked out of a flowered skirt, and he’d even noticed her dark red toenails. Curves in all the right places and her eyes—he’d never seen a shade of green so light they were almost translucent. Her curly hair had been pulled back in a haphazard ponytail, giving her the look of a college coed on summer break.

Jackson knew better. She was intelligent and obviously damn good at what she did. Even in his business he was aware of SIA. They worked in every part of the world. Then there was the fact that her mother, Janice Stonegate, was a legendary operative. That last name had been his first clue that Mariska was someone who could help. He wondered if she even knew her mother had ever been in the CIA, before quitting to open up her own security and investigative firm.

People in his business knew about Janice, because she was one of the few international operatives to transition into civilian life successfully. She’d been killed in a plane crash last year, and many wondered if, after thirty years away, her past had finally caught up with her.

Jackson couldn’t believe his luck in running into her daughter. When he’d walked into the bar he’d been looking for an ally. Dawson, his handler, said he was sending a friend. Dawson had a history of using women to convey messages, and she was the only one there. When he heard her last name, he knew he’d hit the mark.

She might not even know that she was the “friend,” but she would have resources, something Jackson was seriously low on at the moment.

She seemed like a genuinely nice woman. It was unfortunate he had to pull her into his plan, but he had no choice. If it made Jackson a lying bastard, so be it.

For once, luck certainly seemed to be on his side. When he discovered Mr. Thomas was a private investigator, Jackson had slipped right into the role. Mariska was an asset in his world, and he needed her more than she could ever imagine. The fact that the image of those gorgeous eyes and generous lips would now be burned into his brain complicated things, but he had to stay on task.

When the real Mr. Thomas had walked into the bar, Jackson knew exactly who he was. The wary eyes that searched the room made him easy to pick out. He had the look of a man who had seen too much. Jackson sometimes saw the same thing when he glanced at a mirror.

The old man had fallen for the “assistant act,” when Jackson told the private investigator that he worked for Ms. Stonegate. It was amazing how a few hundred dollars could make someone accept even the flimsiest of explanations. Mr. Thomas hadn’t batted an eye. He’d handed over the documents, which had helped bring Jackson up to speed on the case.

The papers he held gave Jackson an easy in. The break he needed to become a part of Mariska’s world. He’d help her find Mr. Gladstone. It was the least he could do. Then he’d use Mariska and her resources for his own agenda.

He coughed to cover the long pause and then gave her his most seductive grin. “If you’re asking me up to your room for a bit of physical exertion—”

She laughed, her hands flitting about nervously. For an experienced P.I., she seemed so flustered around him. He appreciated the fact that she wasn’t jaded like most of the people in her business.

“I so did not mean that the way it came out,” she said. “I meant, I need a nap, which is more than obvious.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure what it is about you that ties up my tongue.”

He allowed himself a second to think about her tongue circling his … Damn. He really would need that cold shower if he didn’t stop thinking about her that way.

“I am wondering if you could satisfy my curiosity about something.” Thankfully she interrupted his thoughts again. “You don’t seem like the kind of guy who would be a private investigator in Bangkok.”

Huh. She was perceptive. Shrugging, he told her the truth. “I’m not.” At her sharp intake of breath he added, “I’m more of a consultant, and I don’t live here full-time. Bangkok is a temporary home until I clear some cases of my own.

“You know the rules about client confidentiality, but I can assure you they are along the same lines as what you are working on. That’s why I thought it might be a good idea if we pooled our resources. I’ve spent a great deal of time here and know the city and its people well. I promise to be nothing but an asset to you.”

Everything he said was true. When he’d been burned he’d been working on a human trafficking ring out of Rayong. Vlad’s organization did much more than gun-running. Jackson had managed to get inside the operation and he’d made progress. But somewhere along the line Jackson had screwed things up royally, and now he’d spend whatever life he had left finding out where he’d gone wrong. Once the Company, or worse, Vlad’s assassins, found him, he was a dead man.

Mariska studied him for several minutes. She was intelligent, and not easily fooled. He’d managed to use his rusty flirting skills to distract her but that would only last so long.

He glanced at his watch again to change the subject. “We have a few hours for you to rest. I can pick you up at, say, ten? We can grab a quick bite and then head off to our first stop.” It would also give him time to research the case and Mariska. He wondered if the SIA’s resources were why Dawson had set it up so that he’d find her.

Picking up the folder, he read. “Liu Mae’s Sauna and Massage is probably the best place to start. I’ve heard—” he pursed his lips, not wanting to go into details “—a few things about that establishment from some of my contacts.”

“What kind of things?” She fingered the handle on her bag.

The narrowing of her eyes made him think she might be suspicious of something he said, but he couldn’t imagine what. So he told her the truth. “That the women there get paid a great deal of money to do special favors for their clientele. Let’s say there are no boundaries.”

She scrunched up her nose. “Please tell me no animals are involved. I’m all for sex any way you like it, but if there’s a donkey, I’m so outta there.” She laughed. “I can’t believe I said that out loud.”

The “sex any way you like it” comment caused his pants to bulge and he painfully crossed his legs to hide the evidence. His mind had flashed to a dangerous place where he had her up against a wall with her legs wrapped around him. “I don’t think you have to worry about that sort of extreme, though you may see some tools of the trade,” he teased her.

Standing, she pulled her bag onto her shoulder. “I don’t think I even want to know what you mean. Give me a couple of hours to crash, and I’ll meet you in the lobby.” Holding out her hand, she waited for him to do the same. “It’s been a pleasure,” she said as he took her hand in his.

Her fingers were long and tapered and the skin soft against his calluses. Jackson held on a little too long. When she looked down at their hands linked together, he let go. Then she turned on her heels and walked out.

Believe me, the pleasure was all mine. Jackson watched as the lower half of him still fought for control.

He noticed three other men entering the bar glance at her as she left. A strange sensation came over him. A protective feeling that was quite unfamiliar.

Mine. He desired her in a bad way.

The instinct to punch them for staring at her was strong, but he stayed put. As he watched her hips sway under the flowery dress, how could he blame them for looking? There was a freshness, no, an innocence about her that he hadn’t come across in a really long time, an unusual trait in her line of work.

Jackson chugged his mineral water. It was really too bad he didn’t have time for that cold shower. He pulled out his wallet but the bartender waved him away.

“The lady already paid,” the man said as he picked up Jackson’s glass and wiped the bar.

Lucky for him he’d kept the folder. He’d have some time to do a bit of footwork on his own.

He also had to see a man about a passport. If he were ever going to get out of this godforsaken city, he’d need a couple of new identities.

Before that happened, he had a mess to clean up. When he found out who had sent him on this one-way road to hell, he’d kill them.