Spy Girl (5 page)

He chuckles and sets the box in front of us then holds a gooey piece up to my mouth. I take a bite, savoring the combination of cheese, spicy sausage, roasted red peppers, and sweet pineapple.
 

“Mmm. This is my new favorite pizza,” I groan.
 

He hands me the piece and takes his own, ripping into it.

His ferocity is hot.

I savor another bite then pull my legs up onto the couch crisscross style, being careful not to stab myself with my heels. I mentally kick myself realizing this is probably not nearly as sexy a position as having my long, tan legs sprawled across his table, but when he glances down and the dimple forms, I stay put. My underwear are skimpy and don’t cover all the parts. I’m pretty sure he just got flashed.

I demolish piece number one and reach for the box. I might be amassing points faster, but he’s winning the eating game, having mowed through three pieces already.
 

His appetite for food seemingly quelled, he holds a piece to my mouth again. His cerulean eyes remind me of the deep blue of a starry night sky. He is staring at my lips, wrapped around the crust.
 

“I’m glad you like the pizza,” he states, his gaze returning to my crotch. “You’re good at Battleground. You should know I don’t like to lose. We may not be leaving this couch tonight.”
 

“Fine with me,” I say, my desire growing as I care less about this stupid game.
 

I unzip his pants to find his hard-on peeking out above his boxer briefs and proceed to straddle him.
 

Our lips collide, and he annihilates my mouth with his tongue. He’s treating my mouth much like he did the video game—full on siege.

He bites his way down my neck, and I can practically feel the steam rising from my crotch. As he unbuttons his shirt to expose my breasts and assaults them, I move my hips against his.
 

He holds me up in the air with one hand while sliding his clothes off with the other. Then his fingers move inside me. Slowly at first, which is a contrast to the harsh, hot kisses moving across my chest and the sucking and biting of my nipples. I throw my head back, not able to silence myself. I let out a string of curses mixed with moans muffled by his neck. I weave my fingers into his hair, and I force his mouth to meet mine. As he’s making love to my lips, he pats the couch for his pants, finds his wallet, rolls on a condom, and then plunges inside of me.
 

His hands tightly grip my hips, surely leaving bruises, as he guides me up and down.
 

I orgasm quickly, shocking myself and sounding like a sex phone operator. The number of naughty words coming out of my mouth are no act.
 

They surprise me, but seem to please him. I can feel him smile into my neck when I practically collapse into a heap on top of him.
 

My tiredness is quickly abated when he picks me up, flips me over, wraps my legs around his waist, and cups my ass. I shove my heels into the sides of his legs to hold myself in place as he slams into me—until we both are spent and panting.

Which as you would expect from a well-conditioned athlete takes quite some time.

After a few precious moments of his face snuggled into my hair, he picks me up and carries me into his bedroom.

When he is finished with me and passes out, the sun is peeking over the horizon.
 

I throw on his shirt, belt it with his tie, slip on my shoes, and then steal the pizza from his fridge on my way to catch a cab.
 

MISSION:
DAY TWO

“How’d it go?” Ari asks when I arrive back at our hotel suite. He’s still wearing his tuxedo, and I suspect he just got in himself.

“If we didn’t have a mission, I’d have stayed a few days.”

“And you can cross both Olympic athlete and Vice President’s son off your sexual bucket list.”

“Very funny. That was work. We need to meet the Prince. What did you do?”

“I have my own iron in the fire.”

I squint at him. “How so?”

He pulls up his pants and grins.

“You didn’t! With Allie?” He shrugs. “You good?”

“You wanna find out?” he replies with a smirk.

“Ew. No, you’re supposed to be my brother.”

He shrugs. I want to punch him. “I’m just saying, you ever need to blow off some steam, you and I both know we’re not really related.”

“Did you ever visit Blackwood?”

“No, but I was briefed on your training.”

“They told you about my sex life? How in the world—”

“You were under a microscope the entire time you were there. That’s pretty obvious from your school file.”
 

“You got to read about me? That isn’t really fair. I don’t know anything about you.”

“There wasn’t much in it. Just stuff like your grades and how good you are at, well—everything. But it didn’t tell me anything about your personal life. What about your family?”

“They’re dead.”

“How did they die?” he asks.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”
 

“Look, I’m not trying to pry—”

I interrupt him. “Why did you get chosen for this mission?”

“Not sure, but I think I’m your babysitter.”

“Why would you be that?”

“Maybe because I don’t have a vagina of my own, and I look silly in a bikini.”

I roll my eyes at him. “You’re obnoxious. Can we have this conversation after I’ve had some sleep?”

“You can sleep on the plane. I just ordered us breakfast.”

“How did you know when I’d get here?”

“Because, I think we’re a lot alike. That’s the goal, right? Leave them wanting more? You had to give Daniel a taste, so he will crave more. The question is, which one of us will win? Shall we wager a bet?”

“So you slept with Allie so she would sleep with Peter and talk him into going to Montrovia? What if she shows up alone? Peter is key to this plan. You better not have screwed that up.”

“I was hoping you might be smart and sleep with Peter instead of Daniel.”

“Peter isn’t really my type, but you’re right. We need access to their group of friends if we’re going to play this game. They would give us instant legitimacy.”

“And a two-pronged approach is always safer than going it alone.” He leans around, his eyes lowering to my ass. “I was told to watch your six. Not too bad of a job.”

I hold my hand in front of my butt. “Stop that! You can’t be lusting after me if we are going to play brother and sister.”
 

“Do you have real brothers and sisters? A family?”

“No. Do you?”

“Not anymore.”

“What happened?”

“My mother died of cancer when I was ten. My father was a four-star Army general stationed at the Pentagon. He died in a car accident during my senior year of high school.” He slides his computer toward me. “Take a look at this. It’s our joint bank account.”

I blink a few times trying to comprehend what I’m seeing. Finally, I say, “That’s a whole lot of zeros.”

“And apparently just our slush fund. We have other investments, too. It’s crazy.”

“Is it real?”

He grins at me. “I say we go shopping in Montrovia and find out.”

Room service brings breakfast, but I use the microwave to heat up the pizza I stole while Ellis and the Kates oversee the loading of our luggage.
 

Ari groans when I get in the limo with it. “Oh, that smells horrible.”

“It’s not. It’s amazing.”
 

He holds his head. “I’m fighting a hangover.”

“Do you normally drink much? I mean—”

He holds up his hand to silence me. “I don’t need the talk, sis. I know what’s at stake.”

I nod. “Good. So do we have a plan once we get there?”

“I think we’re just supposed to get settled in the villa. Get out to the casino. Make friends.”

“And hopefully the Prince will just show up? No way. We’re going to start with shopping. We’re going to spend an obscene amount on a car. We’re going to drive it to the casino, looking fabulous, and we’ll get people talking. We’re going to gamble like crazy, which means they will start coming to us. Once they do, we throw a party. We have to have a plan B in case our plan As don’t show up. And that includes you getting friendly with the Prince’s cousin.”

“What does she look like?”

“It doesn’t matter. She’s next in line to the throne, followed by her younger sister. I mean, think about it. What’s the big deal if the Prince is killed? There’s a whole line of relatives who would take the throne. They can’t kill them all off.”

“I suppose,” he says.

“Still it’s odd that there was nothing in our dossier about the cousins. I wonder why not?”

“Ask Ellis.”

“I will on the plane.”

We get loaded on the plane. I bring my pizza box with me, dragging it around like it’s Daniel’s class ring or something. But I really am enjoying the pizza. And I’m going to have more when I wake up.
 

But first things first.

“Ellis, what do you know about the Prince’s cousins? Why isn’t there more on them in our packets?”

“This case is for you to figure out. But I can get you any information you ask for.”

“I want everything you can tell me about the next five people in line for the throne. I also want to know how many are in line, and what happens if they reach the end of the line?”

He pecks away at a computer. “There are seventy-two in line.”

“Are they all going to be together anytime soon? All in the same place?”

“I would suspect the large majority of them will be at the Queen’s Ball which takes place after the race and is the finale for the week.”

“So they could take them all out, with a bomb or something? Destroy the castle?” Ari asks. “Who rules then?”

“If that were to happen, the highest ranking military official would take over the country, and his bloodline would become royalty. He wouldn’t have much money though. The royal family’s funds would go to trusts and charities in the case of no blood relatives.”

“Do we know anything about the highest ranking military official?” I ask.

“Yes, he’s a close friend of the King. Was the best man at his wedding. Very wealthy and ready to retire soon.”

“And his second in command?” Ari wonders.

“The Prince’s godfather.”

“Hmmm. Alright. Let’s sleep on it,” I suggest. “We need to look fresh for our descent into Montrovian society.”

MISSION:
DAY THREE

Ellis wakes me up precisely an hour before we are due to land so that I can freshen up.
 

I can barely believe that I just slept for twelve hours straight. On a plane. On the way to my first mission.
 

Note to self: Hot sex is a must before the start of every mission. I close my eyes, allowing myself a moment to relive my night with Daniel. But when I open them back up, I’m all business.
 

I do my makeup, put on a tight black dress and heels so pointy, I could kill a man with them.

Ari and I don’t go to the casino first thing as we had originally planned. We’re too busy checking out our villa.
 

I didn’t expect this. I assumed a villa was a quaint little place—small and cozy.

In Montrovia, villa equals mansion. We’re staying in a massive stucco and tile-roofed home with sweeping terraces overlooking the harbor; a private courtyard featuring an amazing pool and a pool house containing a full bar, kitchen, and gaming tables; and a tennis court. Not to mention a garage full of exotic cars. I’d never leave, except I’m dying to drive them all.

I suggest that we take one of the cars and go shopping in town, but Ellis informs me I have someone coming from Tech and can’t leave.
 

Ari decides not to wait for me. He chooses a silver Maserati and backs out of the garage.

X X
X

Tech equals gadgets. And every spy should have some of those, right?

And apparently Black X agents are no exception.
 

After Ari leaves, I’m taken down a hidden elevator in the garage to a large secret room made of concrete and corrugated pipe. The floor is a gorgeous terra cotta tile, and the pipe is painted a soft creamy color. It looks like a cross between a wine cellar and a bomb shelter.

I’m introduced to Terrance. He’s young and cute, if not slightly nerdy. He also looks jet lagged.
 

“You look tired,” I say.
 

“I wasn’t exactly prepared for this trip. Someone else was assigned to you, but he got sick.”

“With what?”

“Death.”

“He’s dead? What happened?”

“Massive heart attack, I guess. All I know is that I was personally called in by the director of the CIA and given this mission.”

I wonder why he doesn’t mention Black X. Either Terrance and Ari don’t know about it, or they aren’t supposed to talk about it. Maybe I’m not supposed to talk about it either. Terrance takes off his glasses, wipes the lenses with a cloth, and studies me. “You’re very young.”

“I’m almost twenty-two.”

“And you trained at The Farm?”

“No. Blackwood Academy,” I admit.

“Never heard of it. So are you any good?” He shakes his head, talking to himself. “Of course you are. And this must be a very important mission. I was taken directly from the Director’s office, put on a private plane, and told to do everything I can to help you. I understand you will be attending numerous social events, so I’m going to fix you up. Let’s start with your watch. I’ll update it,” he says, unclasping it from my wrist.

“Update it?”

“Unless someone already has. I’ve seen old models like that in our vault.” He takes out a small tool and pops open the back. “See, the liquid in these darts has turned blue. Blue means it’s not as effective. It should be purple.”

I want to ask him why the hell my father’s watch has darts in it. It takes all my will power to clamp my mouth shut and not let out a big WTF. Was my father a spy?

I nod, playing it cool.