Secret Agent Reunion. Caridad Piñeiro

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СКАЧАТЬ She shot the bag a punch, slightly harder than the ones before, and faced him. “You have more from Lazlo about the mission?”

      Mitch released an exasperated sigh. “It’s not about the assignment and you know it.”

      What she knew was that she was torn between easing against him and having him take her into his arms and kicking his ass for breaking her heart.

      She did neither.

      Instead, she crossed her arms and inched her chin up a bit—not that by doing so she would make much of an impact. At six-foot three, Mitch had quite some inches on her average height as well as at least one hundred pounds more of muscle.

      “I believe that you said you didn’t want it to get personal again, Agent Lama.”

      “I don’t,” he replied curtly and then dragged a hand through his hair, making the spikes even more pronounced.

      Pulling one hand from his pocket, he held it out palm up in a pleading gesture and leaned toward her to emphasize his point. “There’s a lot that went on between us. Some good. Some very good. But a lot really bad as well.”

      Truthful, if not a bit blunt, Dani thought as Mitch went on.

      “Whatever it was is in the past. Now we’re partners. I need to be able to trust you to watch my back. You probably need the same from me.”

      A reasonable request, and even though what she was feeling toward him right now was major dislike, possibly bordering on hate for his deception, she had always intended to watch his back. That he had thought otherwise just added to her pique.

      “I’m a professional, Mitch. Like it or not, you are my partner. I will guard your back, and I expect that you will guard mine.”

      He straightened away from her then and tucked his hand back into his pocket. With a shrug of those broad, thickly muscled shoulders, he said, “Right.”

      He stood there for a few seconds more, seemingly unsure of what to do next, until he yanked his hand back out of his pocket and thrust it out to her, as if to seal the deal.

      “So, then, we’re partners,” he said, and, at her delay, gave a little shake of his hand as if to urge her on.

      She looked at that hand and then up to his face, where myriad emotions played across his normally neutral features. Neutral because, as secret agent types, they couldn’t afford to allow their emotions to show to the enemy.

      But as she shook his hand, his emotions were clearly etched on his face for her to see. Confusion. Regret. Desire, banked well behind the other two.

      The handshake that lasted longer than it should have confirmed the final emotion wasn’t just on his part, and they both abruptly pulled away from the handshake.

      Dani rubbed her palm and the back of her hand, almost as if she could wipe away the remnants of the one disturbing emotion that had been communicated with a simple handshake. With a curt bob of her head, she confirmed the agreement. “Partners, but that’s it.” She tucked her chin down and walked out of the gym.

      Chapter 4

      Troy Dumont sat back in his chair and took a sip of the Johnnie Walker Blue in his glass. The taste of the scotch was smooth but with some bite as if to remind him that it was older than he was.

      Months shy of twenty, he had nevertheless seen more of the world than most others his age. Done more than most, including killing a man. How else did you learn to run one of the world’s largest crime syndicates if not by getting your hands dirty every now and then?

      Although he had never met his grandfather, Maximilian Dumont, he hoped that he had inherited some strength from the man who had gone from being a mercenary to building a worldwide empire of assassins, gun smugglers and other assorted criminals.

      Troy wanted to show his mother, who had inherited control of the syndicate after her brother’s and father’s deaths, that he could one day run their organization as well.

      Taking another sip, he considered his mother as she paced back and forth while talking on the phone. A very important call had come in from one of their informants, interrupting their after-dinner conversation.

      Annoyance flared through him at how often work pulled his mother away. How, for most of their lives together, one thing or another had always managed to interfere—although he understood just how much control was necessary to maintain power over such a vast network of bad asses. Control that his family kept in a number of ways, including elimination of anyone who got in the way—like Corbett Lazlo and his annoying band of do-gooders.

      In the past few months his mother had grown more determined, almost fanatically so, to rid herself of the Lazlo Group. Lazlo’s well-known agency had been a thorn in their side for quite some time, but lately, the Lazlo Group activities had managed to create even more problems for them. He didn’t think the Lazlo Group had been smart enough to figure out the various sources of the Dumonts’ illegal gains, but recently they had unwittingly slowed the flow of money from different Dumonts’ illegal. gains, but recently they had unwittingly slowed the flow of money from different operations.

      “Fils de pute,” his mother, Cassandra, nearly screeched and he shifted forward in his chair, determined to find out what had set her off.

      “Find out what Lazlo wants with Kruger and where he’s taking him,” she said as she reached one end of the room and whirled, then paced back to the other side, her long legs carrying her back and forth swiftly. Her slender body vibrated with anger.

      “I don’t care how difficult it will be. You’re well paid to get this information for us.” Her French accent intensified in tandem with her anger.

      Her green eyes narrowed to tight slits as she shot him a glance. Realizing she had her son’s full attention, she sent him an apologetic smile.

      As the person on the other end of the conversation signed off, she snapped the cell phone shut, dragged a hand through the long, wavy strands of her auburn hair and walked toward him, the lines of her body elegant. Graceful. Dangerous.

      “Je suis si désolée, chéri. Something unexpected came up.” She cradled his jaw and stroked the line of it, her hand smooth against his skin. A mother’s gentle touch.

      He leaned into it and covered her hand with his, needy for her affection. She was all he had in the world, having never known the rest of his family. Grandfather. Uncle. Father. All dead before he could meet them. “It’s fine, Maman. I just wish…”

      Troy didn’t have to finish. Cassandra seemed to know just what he wanted.

      “Once this is done, mon fils, we’ll have more time together.”

      He had heard her say it before, and, in general, she had kept her promises to him. For as long as he could remember, she had juggled the demands of the syndicate with those of motherhood in order to give him her attention.

      When he had become old enough to learn about the business, she had begun to teach him much as her father had taught her and her brother.

      Corbett Lazlo had been responsible for his uncle’s death, and so he could understand his mother’s current desire to see the Lazlo Group suffer. СКАЧАТЬ