Lies(34)

CHAPTER SIX


“This is not good.”

When I get out of the shower, Bear has arrived. He and Thom stand in front of the TV, gazes glued to the screen. It’s a news report about an English lord’s death, his body found only hours ago in a mansion in London. Their complete focus on the news report, combined with their utter stillness, gives the room an edgy vibe.

I clutch at the towel around me, wet hair hanging down my back. There’s no blow dryer, so I’ll just braid it and hope for the best. “He had a heart attack?”

“That’s how I would have done it. Easy enough to fake or induce.” Thom’s already showered and is dressed in black slacks, a turtleneck, and boots. Sensible for the weather yet still displaying much of his quiet hotness. Or maybe I’m still heated from the sexing. At least if we die, we’ve had the makeup sex. Though, this is no real comfort. My anxiety roars back to life easy as that. But I do my best not to show it; Thom has enough to handle without me adding to his woes.

“You’re sure he was one of them?” asks Bear, arms crossed.

Thom nods. “Yeah. He’s one of the three bosses. I’ve known about him a few years now.”

“So it’s not just operatives someone’s trying to kill,” I say. “They’re taking out the head honchos as well.”

Thom turns, taking in my disheveled appearance. His gaze warms for a moment at the sight of me, steamy and wet, wearing nothing but a towel. Then he does a quick turnaround, realizing he and I are not alone to enjoy this state of affairs.

Pretty sure Bear has seen women in various stages of undress before, but cleared of suspicion or not, Thom still stands between me and our guest, the same way he did with Crow. It’s like having my own personal protection detail.

He tips his chin toward the table. “Come get some fresh clothes, babe.”

Several shopping bags sit on the floor, along with a laptop and some other techy-type stuff on the table. Listening devices, maybe. I don’t know.

“Might as well put on something comfortable, since you’re staying in,” he says. “Are you hungry? I ordered pizza. It should be here soon. But I can get you something else if you want.”

“Pizza sounds good.”

“Wolf, who takes over with this boss-guy dead?” asks Bear.

“His son inherits his share of things,” answers Thom. “Typical rich kid living his best life in Ibiza, from what I know. I don’t have a lot of int on him, actually. I didn’t dare get too close, in case someone in-house followed my trail to him.”

“Okay. Sounds bad. What do you know about the other two?”

“Only Helene Sinclair matters to us right now. She’s the most accessible of the remaining bosses, from what I’ve been able to find out.”

Bear frowns. “I know that name. U.N., right?”

“Among other things. Connected like you wouldn’t believe, fingers in plenty of pies,” says Thom, lips a flat line. His expression grim. “Enough money to help fund an operation like ours with the resources to stop any possible shit from flying in her direction if we got exposed.”

“What exactly are you going to do?” I ask.

“The less you know, the better,” responds my idiot fiancé. “In fact, cover your ears, please.”

As if. I just shake my head.

“What about recce on the hotel?” asks Bear.

“We’ll sweep the surrounding area and case the place before attempting entry. I don’t want to risk delaying too long.”

“She going to be up for a chat?”

“Good question. We have no idea who axed communication when things went south. If it was her…”

“We’re fucked.”

I watch the two with interest. “Int? Recce? What is this language you’re speaking?”

“Intelligence. Reconnaissance.” Thom looks me over. “Weren’t you getting dressed? I thought you were getting dressed.”

“Well, I can’t cover my ears and get dressed at the same time.”

“Yeah,” he says. “But you’re not doing either.”

“How rude of me. I didn’t properly say hello,” says Bear, leaning to the side to see me around Thom. Considering Bear saw me earlier on the plane, this politeness feels unnecessary, to say the least. Yet the man seems determined. “How you doing, Betty?”

“Fine, thanks.”

“Great to see you again.”

Thom’s gaze hardens.

Whatever game they’re playing, they can play it without me. I go over to examine the bags. The first two bags are full of men’s clothing. Second bag is women’s wear and intimate apparel. Much better. “Everything we got is black?”

“Yep,” says Bear. “It’s just practical. Only color that really hides blood.”

“What about red?” I ask, curious.

“Blood dries a darker reddish brown and becomes visible.” Bear shakes his head. “You don’t want your enemies knowing if or where you’re wounded. Also makes it harder to mix in with the general public if you’re trying to make a swift getaway. Basic escape and evasion, you got to blend in.”

“Clever.” Makes sense, now that I think of it—he does own a lot of dark colors.