Ultimate Weapon (McClouds & Friends #6)(80)

He had to keep his wits about him—not so much against the enemies massed against them, but against Tamar herself. It took constant, careful attention to have anything to do with the woman. She was so sharp, so prickly and contentious. And so f*cking beautiful.

She scrambled his circuits like an electrical storm.

He felt her eyes on the back of his neck as he sank down into a tiger crouch. His gaze flicked over her as he spun. Tamar was propped on her elbow, looking at him with squint-eyed, sleepy suspicion.

He continued without acknowledging her and silently finished the movement.

When he was done, she was on her feet with her back to him, punching a number into her cell phone. She spoke in a hushed voice, in Portuguese. “Rosalia? Yes, it’s Tam…yes, I just called to find out how your…oh, really? Wonderful, Rosalia, thank God. I’m so glad you got it all straightened out so quickly…no, actually Rachel and I are out of town right now…yes, for a few days, yet. I’m not sure how many. You just take a vacation and relax, and I’ll call you when I get back. OK. Thanks to you, too. Take care, Rosalia. Good-bye.”

She clicked her phone shut, and glared at him. He gave her an I-told-you-so shrug.

“Well, and so what?” she snapped. “Don’t give me that smug look. It was a shitty thing to do in the first place. You scared the poor woman to death. To say nothing of how her sons felt. You should pay them monetary damages for lost sleep and mental anguish. Embarrassing them at their place of work just to mess with me. It was unforgivable.”

He shrugged. “I will pay them damages, if you like, when all this is over. But it’s fine, now. I have arranged for an introduction to Ana Santarini. We have an appointment with her in two days.”

She frowned. “So long from now? Do we have to waste an entire—”

“She is in Italy,” he reminded her patiently. “We lose a day traveling, and when we arrive in Rome, we still have hours of driving to do. Do you have enough jewelry with you to show to a client without going home to get more? I suspect going back would be dangerous.”

“I have everything I showed you at Shibumi, and then some,” she said. “All unarmed, of course, but I have the means to arm some packed in my case.”

“Good. We should get on our way,” he said.

“Val,” she said sweetly. “You’ve forgotten one small but very important detail. You killed my passport. I have others, but I expect you’ve killed them, too. Am I right?”

“I have a passport for you,” he said, neatly sidestepping her landmine of a question. “Today, you are Anita Borg. Belgian.”

“I don’t want to use anything that PSS has in their files,” she said.

“They do not know about this one,” he told her. “I had one made secretly, weeks ago, at my expense. I like to have options. Always.”

Her mouth tightened as she glanced back at Rachel’s sleeping form on the bed. “We can’t go anywhere near Sea-Tac.”

“This is true. We will leave from Portland, which means we have a two hour drive ahead of us, minimum, to add to our travel time. Therefore, we must move. Soon.” He glanced pointedly at Rachel.

Tamar’s face darkened. “She needs her sleep,” she said rebelliously. “She went to bed late last night. She’s wiped out.”

Val felt his jaw twitch. “I’ll go get my laptop from the car and book the flights,” he said grimly. “When I return, you must be ready.”

“For breakfast,” Tam specified. “With Erin and Connor and Kev and Sveti to soften the blow. I can’t just dump the kid and disappear with no buildup, Janos, so take that into account when you book your flights.”

“Call me Val,” he said through clenched teeth. She didn’t.



He sprinted through the bracing cold in the forest, soaring on that wild, jagged high. His feet barely touched the ground. He could not identify the source of the euphoria. The aftereffects of that intense sexual encounter, no doubt. He had not filmed it, not this last time. That, at least, was theirs. Secret and private. He should have filmed it to be sure he had another installment for Imre, but he couldn’t bear to.

Another time. Because there would be another time, and another, and another. If he was anywhere near that woman, he would be trying to seduce her. The urge to assail her defenses was out of his control.

Oddly enough, he was getting used to being out of control.

It was inadvisable to get so excited. The woman would drug, stun, or shoot him at the slightest provocation, after all. But what they had done last night was burned into his sense memory. Every word, every gesture. Every succulent, dangerous, deadly detail of her.

He slid into the cold SUV, forcing warmth and circulation into numb fingers, logged on, and found an afternoon flight for Rome via Atlanta. Though the way she was dragging her feet, so reluctant to leave her child, it was doubtful they would actually catch it. He stowed his pistol in the case beneath the seat. He regretted leaving it behind, but even in checked baggage, a pistol attracted attention.

He was gratified when he got back to see that Tamar had moved briskly once he was not there to see it. Rachel was bathed, dressed, and stuffed into her coat, and Tamar was gathering the odds and ends of yesterday’s spending spree, shoving items into shopping bags. She was casually dressed: designer jeans, a loose, nubbly beige sweater.