for a player.”
The word had her furrowing her brow. “He plays?” Although she’d begun learning English at age ten, there were still too many terms and phrases she was not familiar with. Americans especially used the same words to mean many different things.
“I figure he’s someone important in Maloun,” he explained.
She thought about that. All of the guests this evening must be of some importance in the country, or El-Dabir would not have invited them. But none of the other names on the screen matched those of the guests. Only Marakeh and Abdul. “Abdul is, indeed, a player. Perhaps even a member of the Brothers of Darkness.”
Interest sharpening his tone, Walker asked, “Did he say something tonight?”
“He didn’t mention the organization directly, but he spent this evening trying to convince me of his importance.” At his look, she gave a shrug. “It is what a man does when he tries to gain the attention of a woman.” Another female would understand without explanation. “Several times he mentioned a group he belongs to, without ever naming it. Once he called it the voice of Maloun.”
“From the intelligence we gathered, that claim would fit the Brothers.” Walker fell silent for a moment. “Did he give you any indication whether he would be coming back here?”
She managed, barely, to avoid rolling her eyes. Men could be extremely obtuse, especially when it came to the behavior of their gender. “He will be back.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Raising a brow, she merely looked at him. Something like amusement flickered across his face. “Of course. I didn’t mean to disparage your feminine charms, Jaz. Especially since I know from personal experience just how compelling they can be.”
If he was attempting to get a reaction from her, she was determined not to give it. “I will make it clear to El-Dabir that I have reservations about the rebel faction in the country. If he is as eager to forge a bond with Tamir as I believe he is, he will try to convince me of the organization’s harmlessness. I am certain that I can lead him to suggest a visit.”
“The sooner the better.”
His distracted tone should have warned her. In the next moment he reached out, touched her hair. “Your pins are coming loose.”
Self-consciously she reached up, meaning to resecure them. Instead she was dismayed to feel him withdraw the pin, allowing a strand of hair to escape. The instant jolt of awareness that rocketed through her veins dismayed her. “I’ll do it.”
Ignoring her, he dropped the pin in her hand and reached for the next one.
“Stop.” She tried to push his hand away, but he was immovable. Three more pins were loosened. More hair tumbled down. She tried to move away, but he shifted with her. The pins were pressed into her palm, and he reached for more.
She made the mistake of looking at his face. His expression was intense, absorbed. The expression of a man intent on mussing the woman he planned to take to bed. She’d seen the look on his face before. Knew what it meant.
She didn’t want this, didn’t want the memories of Venice slipping into her mind like stealthy little thieves. He’d seemed fascinated with her hair then, too, combing his fingers through it, smoothing it back from her face when she’d lain beneath him, shattered and limp.
Her pulse tripped once, and her heart did a slow, lazy spin in her chest. He was adept at this, she reminded herself wildly. He could switch from the cool, professional agent to the all too sensual male in the flash of an instant. He was equally adept at changing back, leaving her reeling with memories and unwelcome feelings that seemed to not touch him in the slightest.
“You need to leave.” With a recklessness fueled by desperation, she reached up, withdrew the last few pins, then shook her head to toss her hair back into place. His gaze never left her, his eyes following every movement.
Little tongues of flame danced through her veins. The man had to do no more than look at her, touch her, and she was a mass of quivering nerve endings. The thought filled her with despair. Her reaction was fueled by guilty snippets of memories she couldn’t control. Her body recognized the source of its pleasure, even as her mind rejected him.
“It’s late.” Anxious to escape, she shoved past him. “And the water has been running for too long already. You need to leave before someone comes to investigate.”
“Who? The prime minister? His quarters are on the other side of the building. And there are no servants who live here that I’ve discovered.”
“I don’t care. I want you out of here!”
“Why, Jaz?” With his hands on her hips he pulled her back against him, and his mouth went to her shoulder. “Are you afraid of what might happen if we’re alone together too long?”
She shivered under his lips. His fingers burned through the thin silk of her nightgown, branding her flesh. “This is a stupid risk. We know there are bugs in the other room….”
“So you’d have to be quiet this time.” The combination of his words and his warm breath caressing her skin had a shudder working through her. She could hear the hint of humor in his voice. “We both would.”
“No!” She pulled away and whirled to face him. His expression abruptly shuttered. “I think we can both agree that last time was a mistake. It is one I will not make again.”
“It doesn’t have to be a mistake this time. We’d both know what to expect.”
Her lips twisted at his response. “And what would that be, Walker? Should I expect to rise in the morning from the bed of my lover and return to an angry stranger making vicious accusations?”
“No accusations. No anger,” he said carefully. “We’d both go into this with our eyes wide open.”
And therein lay the heart-rending pain of it. He couldn’t have said more plainly that there was nothing between them but sex, a basic physical need that he could appease with anyone. At any time.
“I do not think so.” Her indifferent tone would have done an actress proud. “I have grown a bit more discriminating since we parted. And it is far less complicated to choose lovers who are not involved in our jobs, is it not?” Without waiting for an answer, she went to her bag on the counter, took out a hairbrush. As she pulled it through her hair, her gaze met his in the mirror. Her hand faltered. Banked emotion was apparent in his eyes. The new colored contacts couldn’t disguise the familiar piercing intensity.
Then, so quickly that she wondered if she’d imagined it, the moment passed and his expression went guarded once again. “If you plan to stick to your new formula for selecting lovers, you’ll want to tone down your come-on to Abdul. He doesn’t strike me as a guy who needs a whole lot of encouragement. And from what I saw tonight, you were giving him plenty of that.”
He could elicit flash points of emotion from her, dragging her from one to the other with almost dizzying speed. Her fingers clenched around the handle of the brush. She longed to throw it at his arrogant head. “You can go to the hellfire.” The amused lift to the corner of his mouth at her mangled English was like throwing gasoline on a flame. Her cursing was much more fluent in Arabic, so she reverted to her native language. From the way his brows skimmed
