Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
He paused to peer through the peephole on the suite’s main door, even though Ryan was pretty sure he knew the identity of the guest who’d just interrupted at the worst possible time ever.
Sighing heavily, Ryan yanked open the door.
Harry blinked. His mouth gaped. His stare swept over Ryan’s body.
“Yo, eyes here.” Ryan pointed toward his eyes.
Harry’s gaze jerked back up. “Why are you wearing a towel?”
“Because you interrupted me while I was in the shower.” No, actually, it had been way, way worse than that. A thousand times worse. You interrupted me when I was touching the sweetest heaven ever. I had just dipped my finger into Simone’s tight, hot core.
He should punch the bastard for that sin.
“You…uh, can we talk inside the suite?” Harry asked, craning to look behind him.
Fine. Ryan tossed out a hand and grabbed the MI6 agent by the shirtfront. He hauled Harry inside, slammed the door, and locked it. “Better?” Ryan asked as he stalked away from the guy.
“Uh, yeah. It is better.” Harry followed on his heels as Ryan made his way to the small sitting room area. “Look, you need to know, I checked with my supervisors, and they do not like this plan. They think you should be in hiding. Not checking in to the most expensive hotel in London.”
“Good thing I don’t report to your supervisors, huh?”
“It’s a joint operation. And MI6 is footing the bill!”
Ryan shrugged as he turned toward Harry. “Then I’ll pay. Whatever.” He could handle it. Not like he normally talked about his actual finances. He’d chosen the hotel for its security. Finding a safe place for Simone had been a necessity. If MI6 was balking at the bill, he’d just cover the expense.
“My supervisors are also, uh, not sure about the situation with Simone Sailor. They want her brought in for questioning.”
Footsteps. Soft, padding footsteps that came from the bathroom.
He whirled, and sure enough, looking far too sexy in a white robe, Simone headed for him and Harry.
Her wet hair slid over her shoulders. Her beautiful face showed her curiosity, and her gorgeous eyes gleamed.
“Brought in…where?” Simone asked with raised eyebrows.
Ryan marched toward her. “You’re in a robe.”
“And you’re in a towel.” An amused curl of her lips. “Aren’t you giving quite the show to Harry?”
His jaw locked. “You were supposed to stay in the bathroom.”
“Whoops.” Then she shrugged. “I heard Harry’s voice. I knew it was safe to come out. I mean, you are working with him, yes? So he’s safe?”
This was his first ever case to work with Harry Wilson. Did he trust him? Somewhat. But not entirely. There were only a handful of people that he did trust completely in this world. Most of those individuals were family.
“Excuse me.” Harry cleared his throat. “Were you two in the bathroom, showering, together?”
Ryan looked back at him. A hard look. A don’t-piss-me-off-look. “How the hell is that relevant to you?”
Harry backed up.
And then the bell rang again.
Ryan instantly tensed. “Do you have backup who was joining this talk?”
Harry shook his head.
Fuck. And he didn’t have a gun in the suite. He reached for Simone. Closed one hand around her shoulder. “Will you please go and hide?”
“But what if you need me?”
“Hide.”
She stormed away. Her robe fluttered around her legs.
He hurried for the main door.
“Should I hide, too?” Harry asked.
Ryan froze. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I was just…you know, ah, considering the element of surprise and all that. I thought if I hid, and then jumped out at any enemies, it would work to our advantage.”
Ryan squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Tell me again how many field missions you’ve worked.” His hand fell as his gaze cut to Harry.
Harry straightened his shoulders. “This is my third one.”
“Third one. Fantastic. Yeah, know what? Go hide. Do that. Or, even better, go hide with Simone. If some asshole actually manages to get past me, then you kill the fucker before he can touch her, got me?”
Harry seemed to pale.
“I am not sure this is the right line of work for you,” Ryan muttered. “Hide.”
Harry rushed after Simone.
Ryan checked the peephole. Only instead of seeing a threat, he saw one of those wonderful individuals that he actually did trust. Not family, at least not by blood, but still…
Ryan unlocked the door, swung it open, and smiled at his CIA supervisor, Jezebel Jenkins. “Jez, hell of a surprise to see you! I had no idea you were on this side of the pond.”
“Ryan, get some clothes on your damn self.” She marched past him without even sparing him a second glance. “And tell me what sort of fuckery we’re facing.”
Simone snagged the broach and the earrings from the spot where she’d frantically stashed them before—under the mattress.
Yes, a cliché spot, but time had been of the essence, so she hadn’t been given the luxury of finding a better location.
Just as it was of the essence now, too. Simone shoved the items into the left pocket of her robe, and she—
The bedroom door shut.
She’d left the door open.
Simone grabbed the lamp from the bedside and whirled around, her arm up and ready to throw her weapon.
“No!” Harry crouched. “It’s just me! I’m hiding with you!”
“What?”
“Protecting you,” he corrected as his cheeks flushed. “Hiding and protecting. That way, if the enemy gets past Ryan, I can save you.”
He was going to save her? The man crouching in front of the door? “In this scenario, who saves Ryan?”
“I…am hoping he can save himself.”
This was ridiculous. She marched forward and glared at him. “Move.”
Harry moved to the side. Then seemed to realize her plan. “Wait, what are you—”
She yanked open the bedroom door. She still had her weapon at the ready. Up and in swinging position. Except when she opened that door, she came face to face with Ryan.
He eyed the lamp. Then smiled at her. “Planning to bash someone in the head?”
If necessary, yes.
“It was a friendly visitor. No worries.” His gaze darted to Harry. “By the way, she wants to meet you, too, Harry.”
Simone slowly lowered the lamp. “She?”
“Um, yes, my boss.” His head cocked to the right. “She wants to meet you, Simone. Meet you, interrogate you. You know, the usual.”
Does she want to arrest me? Simone tried to buy some time while she tried to find a way out of this mess. “Any chance I could get some clothing soon? It’s not exactly fun to go around meeting new people in a robe.” Though he was definitely working that towel of his.
“One moment.” He disappeared down the narrow hallway.
The floor creaked behind her.
“Where did he go?” Harry asked.
Glancing over her shoulder, she had to question, “Are you truly MI6? Or is this some joke?”
He straightened. “Why would it be a joke?”
“You just seem…green.” The greenest of greens.
“Don’t you worry about my capabilities. This is my third mission.”
Simone nodded. “That tracks.”
He frowned.
But Ryan was back. So her focus returned to him.
He was back and edging past her as he carried a very large brown suitcase toward the bed.
“Courtesy of Jezebel,” he explained as he put down the luggage.
“Clothes for you. Toiletries. Makeup. Everything you need. I received a similar delivery of necessary supplies.” His hand motioned toward Harry.
“Let’s give Simone privacy to change.” An order.
He quirked an eyebrow at Simone. “I’ll get dressed, too.
Then meet you in the sitting area in five minutes? ”
Yes. Fine. Five.
He closed the door. She changed as fast as possible.
She also made sure to hide her precious trinkets.
Because when she finally slipped away from Ryan—and she would be slipping away, sooner or later—she intended to take her prizes with her.
After all, she had a job to complete. Someone very important needed to have those items returned, and there was no world in which Simone planned to disappoint this particular individual.
“So you’re Simone Sailor.”
Simone blinked. She’d just walked into the very blue sitting room.
Blue sofa. Blue chair. Blue curtains over the window that looked out at Hyde Park and the Wellington Arch.
In contrast to the blue, the walls were a dark brown.
Dark brown end tables on either side of the couch.
Dark brown desk near the window. Dark brown coffee table.
All of the wood gleamed, as if it had been carefully polished, and, overhead, a crystal chandelier caught the light and seemed to sparkle.
But it certainly wasn’t the décor that captured Simone’s attention.
It was the woman who sat, sipping tea, in the blue chair.
A woman with short, dark hair. Small, pearl earrings hung from her lobes, and she wore an austere, gray suit that should have swallowed her delicate frame.
It didn’t, though. Somehow, the suit just made her look extra refined.
The woman took another sip of her tea and then put the fragile cup back on its saucer. She rose, her stare assessing, as she took in Simone.
When the lady rose, Simone realized that the CIA operative barely clocked in at five feet.
“I’m Jezebel Jenkins.” She extended a hand toward Simone. No trace of an accent shaded her words.
Simone took the offered hand. “Should I be pleased to meet you or terrified?”
Ryan grunted from his sprawled position on the couch. “You can be both. Most people are.”
Good to know.
Harry wasn’t seated. He sort of bobbed around nervously near the window.
“He was both,” Ryan said, waving toward Harry. “They were introduced moments before you joined the party in here.”
Well, Harry was not being threatened with an arrest so what had been his excuse for terror?
“You don’t exist,” Jezebel announced, still holding Simone’s hand. Her dark gaze flashed with a cunning intelligence.
Simone forced a smile. “Of course, I do. I’m right here.” She tugged her hand back.