Callie smiled at Gillian’s words. Her boss had no idea how close Callie was to the Ghost.
“Oh, and, Callie, watch out. The Ghost is notorious for eliminating anyone who knows his identity. Roorback and Fromme have disappeared.”
“What?” Callie sank down on the unmade bed, her heart pounding.
“Yup, off the face of the earth. It takes some doing to make people disappear without a trace. I don’t want to lose one of my best agents. If it gets hot, abort and return to D.C. Let the DEA take over.”
Callie stiffened. “I don’t think so. I have lost this guy too many times to let someone else nab him.”
Gillian chuckled at Callie’s stiff tone. “I’m not going to lie and tell you this wouldn’t be a feather in Watchdog’s cap. But, Callie, I’m serious. Protect yourself first.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t get smart with me,” Gillian said, and added quietly, “Be careful.”
“I didn’t take the job to be careful, Gillian, but I won’t be reckless, either.” It was way too late for that, anyway. That advice would have served her much better if she’d heeded it the first time she’d ever laid eyes on Jammer, the sinfully sexy bastard.
She exited the hotel room and met Jammer in the lobby.
“Did you have a nice chat with your sister?” Jammer asked as she came abreast of him.
“Yes, I did,” Callie replied, easily letting the lie roll off her tongue. She couldn’t stop thinking about Joost and Dieter. Had he killed them to keep them quiet? It was hard to reconcile this man with the reputation. There was something about him that suggested he wasn’t a cold-blooded killer, but what had happened to those two thugs?
He checked the slim Rolex on his tanned wrist. “She’s up at 3:00 a.m.?”
Was there suspicion in his voice? “Yes, she’s a party girl. Doesn’t get to bed sometimes until dawn.”
Jammer nodded. With his hand settled comfortably against the middle of her back, he ushered her out of the hotel and into the waiting cab.
“So what is the next step? When do you deliver?”
“Not for a few more days. Thanks to you and Roorback, I’m ahead of schedule.”
The airport was as crowded as she suspected, so it took them quite a bit of time to get through customs and security.
Three flights and seventeen and a half travel hours later they landed in San Francisco. Shortly after that, they were back at Jammer’s Napa Valley winery.
Jammer dropped the luggage at the front door, then grabbed their toiletry cases and her hand. “Time to get some sleep,” he said with a yawn.
“Really?” she inquired.
“Yes, sleep. We’re both exhausted. I’ll need to be fresh for the harvesting that’s going on here. I have details to handle regarding the shipment for Fuentes and travel arrangements for our trip to Colombia.” He pulled her forward.
“I’m all for some rest. I’m beat.”
“Good.”
As they climbed the stairs, Callie asked, “So did you have Joost and Dieter killed?” She had to ask. It had been on her mind the whole trip back to California.
Everything about him went utterly still for a split second, as if her question had literally stopped him cold. But he recovered so quickly, Callie almost convinced herself she had imagined the response. He turned to look at her. “How did you hear about that so soon?”
“It’s a natural assumption. I know how you operate, Jammer. Everyone does. Those who find out the Ghost’s identity quickly disappear.”
“I did what was necessary to protect my alter ego. The Ghost needs to remain a secret. It’s the way it works.”
“Why is that?”
“For one, it keeps me out of prison. You can’t arrest someone who doesn’t exist. For another, it’s also very difficult to find someone who doesn’t exist. Jammer is a good cover. I’m just the Ghost’s muscle. No one usually pays me much attention.”
“I think it’s a brilliant idea. Sure had me fooled.” She scooted past him on the stairs, remembering where his room was.
“I can’t have anyone knowing who I really am.” He caught up to her and followed closely as they moved down the hall.
She turned to him, her tone serious. “Who are you?”
He yawned again and grinned at her, his smile bright in the dimness. “A tired man.”
She let him duck the question, because soon enough he was going to have to reveal who he really was. When she snapped handcuffs around his wrists. Confusing and conflicting emotions twisted and writhed in her chest, the pressure building like a steam engine.
“I know who the Ghost is. What are you going to do about me?” she asked, poking him in the chest. Outside they heard thunder rumble.
They hadn’t quite made it to the bedroom and Jammer hadn’t had a chance to turn on a light. The only illumination came from the moon, which was quickly getting swallowed up by clouds outside the wide windows. He suddenly pushed her up against the wall.
His gaze, hot and magnetic, caught her, his dark eyes glittering. “I don’t think you’re going to tell anyone my secret.”
Callie looked up into his face and felt her heart break. She’d already told her boss he was the Ghost. Already breached his trust. But, she rationalized, Callie wasn’t Gina Callahan and she wasn’t an arms dealer. She also wasn’t deeply, hopelessly, in love with the Ghost. All she had to do was repeat that to herself over and over again until it sank in.
“Why wouldn’t I tell anyone?”
Lightning flashed in the distance, casting his hard, handsome face in silver. “Because you’re not a blabbermouth, and you will keep the secret because it’s to your advantage. Now you have some leverage over me.”
“Do I?”
Dropping the toiletry cases, he leaned down, meeting her at her level, his nose almost touching hers, his eyes a shocking gray as if the storm that gathered outside now raged in his eyes, and said, “You know you do, Gina.” He grinned an unholy grin, his eyes shining like hard granite in the shadows. “You must know you do,” he whispered, his whiskey-hoarse voice scraping her nerve endings like a rasp.
As his lips found her throat and he began to kiss her with teasing little nips, Callie closed her eyes. She wanted to savor the feel of his mouth against hers and to compose herself, because, damn the bastard, he was right.
“There’s a part of you that wants to keep me safe from harm, a part that wars with self-preservation and your own goals. But it’s there,” he murmured, his deep voice thick with words he couldn’t say.
“I thought-” She broke off at the breathless sound of her own voice, cleared her throat and tried again. “I thought we were going to bed to sleep.”
He chuckled wickedly against her neck, sliding a hand up and down her upper arm, his thumb brushing seductively against the side of her breast.
“You’re right. I’m getting sidetracked.” His expression grew serious, intense, as he stared down at her, and a tremor went through her. This Jammer looked like a dominant male, a predator, capable of anything.
Callie shook her head, sidestepping him as he moved away from her and retrieved their toiletries from the floor. She was amazed at his ability to go from teasing to serious, then seductive, then teasing again. It was almost more unnerving than his ability to make her want him.
He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, the fire in his eyes softening to tenderness.
She leaned into him as his arm slipped around her. Together they went into the bathroom to clean up and get ready for bed.
Was that why she wanted to save him, protect him, find some way out of this tangled, impossible mission? Because Jammer treated her with the utmost care?
They quickly undressed and crawled beneath the covers. He immediately pulled her to his side, and she moved willingly into his arms.
“I hope you don’t hog the blankets,” she said.
“I hope you don’t snore.”
Callie chuckled and hit him with one of the bed pillows. He laughed.