“Me?” Her eyes grew wide in feigned innocence. “I was just overly warm.” Her hardened nipples and goose bumps said otherwise. I sat down on the floor next to her.
“Now who is thinking like a puritan? Nudity is not as important in other cultures, Cy.”
I was one breath away from her. The scent from her skin made not touching her unbearable. I pulled her onto my lap, her breasts pressing against my chest. If she was still serious about celibacy after feeling my cock against her, then I would-
“No.” Veronica pushed off me and giggled as she scooped up Sartre and moved to her cot.
I sat there in complete confusion, not to mention sexual frustration. Was she for real? Apparently, the game was afoot. Ronnie was taking her vow of celibacy until the match was over to new heights by throwing in torture…just for fun.
You know those commercials for erectile dysfunction where they warn you about calling a doctor immediately if you have an erection that lasts more than four hours? Well, mine lasted for a lot longer than that. And the nearest doctor was too far away to visit. I was beginning to wonder if Ronnie had switched my aspirin with Viagra. At one point that night I was pretty sure I was hallucinating. Either that or there really was a telephone pole attached to my groin with seven bluebirds and a turkey buzzard sitting on it.
I would like to say that I could have justified her playful behavior. But every time I saw that sweet little ass or her bare shoulders (hell, even a naked elbow was driving me mad), I began to think I knew absolutely nothing about women.
In addition to my constant state of arousal, almost the entire camp was readying for the move to the outskirts of Ulaanbaatar for the national naadam. From rounding up the animals to taking down the gers, everything was a flurry of activity. Even Veronica was too busy helping Odgerel to spend much time naked in our ger-a fact that made me eternally grateful. Yalta had stopped training to allow us to help.
Ronnie and I were to take down our own ger. And to my surprise, she was very excited about it. The hardest part for us was removing the felt cover. But once we had it off, collapsing the lattice frame and packing everything was fairly easy. We worked very well together. And that surprised me too.
Most of the women who’d wandered through my life over the past decade were mere sexual nomads at best. They joined me in my bed, then left. I was used to that. But none of them ever hung out with me, did chores with me, or even engaged in everyday conversations with me. Sure, there were one or two women on the carney circuit. But I never really worked with them directly, nor did I get involved with them physically. I wondered why that was now, but I never did at the time.
There was something so simple, yet amazing about spending time this way with Veronica Gale. On this trip, we could be working on chores side by side one moment, then committing all sorts of carnal delights in bed the next. And we were together all the time. There was nowhere to go on a proper date. No movie theaters, no fine dining, no computers, television or radio even. Just two people in the wilderness.
I didn’t know what would mess with my brain more: the relationship or the purity of the whole thing.
“And we should have dinner with Arje when we get to the city.” Veronica interrupted my thoughts on Veronica as we hauled the stove to the truck.
“What?”
“You know, Arje Dekker? We met him at the last naadam. I think he was Danish or something.”
“Dutch,” I said absently. Now, there was another problem entirely. I still had my assignment to take out Dekker. My complications had just taken on complications for themselves. “I don’t know if we will have time,” I mumbled.
“Of course we will. We’ll be there for three days!” She was careful to punch me playfully in my good shoulder.
“We might not even run into him.” I had to discourage her from the idea of hanging out with my vic. At some point, Dekker would be dead and Ronnie would probably be somewhat pissed off about that.
She stopped and put her hands on her hips. “Cy! You said you would help me with my thesis. And Dekker will add another dimension to it.”
“I know, but…” Damn. I had said that.
“You promised.” Ronnie narrowed her eyes and it sort of turned me on. Hell, everything she did turned me on lately. She was in for one hell of a six-hour-long ride when this whole thing was over. I might even throw my first match just to spend the rest of the festival naked in her arms-I was that desperate.
“Fine. If we see him, we can make some plans for lunch or something. But that’s it.”
I was grateful when she accepted this with a smile and we continued working. However, I had the sneaking suspicion it was far from over.
Chapter Seventeen
“It doesn’t say…yeah, we killed him. But trust us, this guy was horrid.”
– GERMAN SS OFFICERS SKIT, MITCHELL & WEBB
The only good thing about the conversation about Arje Dekker was that now I had to plan his death-and that worked like saltpeter on my exploding libido. As I helped load everything onto camels, horses and one pickup truck, I worked on how I would dispatch this asshole. There were a lot of problems with this particular hit.
First of all, I was competing. My focus should be on the match, not the job. Second, Veronica was friendly with Dekker. Because of this, the hit would have to be after the interview but before the end of the festival, so he didn’t get away. And I’d have to make sure she didn’t know about it. Third, my usual modus operandi wasn’t going to work here. It would have to look like an accident. For Ronnie’s sake. The last thing I needed was to provide her with another conspiracy to stalk. She would find out about Dekker’s death sometime, because of the Internet and her ability to do research. It was a given that she would look him up.
I toyed with the idea of “accidentally” snapping his neck in competition. It would be tough. As I’d learned already, each micromovement was critical. Dekker would have to fight in a way that would allow me to overpower him. And that was a total gamble. It went without saying that I would have to somehow manipulate the assignments to be matched up with him…a near impossibility here, where nothing was computerized.
If the opportunity presented itself, I could attempt it. But I had to have other options with better odds. Maybe I could maneuver the lunch date to happen at the conclusion of the festival. If I played my cards right, I could find out where he was staying and when he was leaving. Then, after escorting Ronnie back to our friends, I could slip back and kill him.
That seemed more reasonable. But how exactly would I do it to make it look like either an accident or natural causes? If I knew his weaknesses, whether physical or psychological, I could exploit them. Unfortunately, the file had no information where this was concerned.
An idea presented itself. I slipped away from the others and dug the cell phone Missi had given me out of my coat.
“Hey, Cy.” Missi didn’t sound like her usual, kooky self.
“You all right, cuz?”
She sighed. “I’m a contestant on an upcoming Survivor-type reality show. So, in answer to your question, not really.”
“Why would you do that?”
“For work, of course.”
Must be an assignment. But even though it sounded intriguing, I didn’t have time to ask.
“Sorry to get to the point of the call, but can you forward me some medical info on my friend?” Chinese and Russian satellites be damned; this line was still far from secure. Fortunately, the Bombays learn how to say a lot with a little from an early age.
“I’ll see what I can do and text it.” Missi hung up. Back to business.