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Take Me If You Dare
Jackson hadn’t lied about hunches. As soon as the women at the massage parlor mentioned the club, he thought perhaps their quarry might be a gambler. There hadn’t been anything in the file about Gladstone having a penchant for cards, but it would explain the long absence from his hotel. More than likely he’d been on the hunt for a card game, too, and that’s why the younger girl had mentioned it. If she’d been working on the other man, there was a good chance she’d mentioned the same place.
The club would be a good start, but they might have to hit a few clubs to find their man. Then again, they might get lucky. Though, until he’d run into Mariska earlier, luck hadn’t exactly been on Jackson’s side the last few months.
On to more important matters. He thanked the stars that Mariska had exactly the software he needed to implement the second part of his plan. Using an untraceable account, he sent an e-mail to Dawson.
Jackson had no idea if the other agent would even read it, but it was worth a chance. A few weeks ago Dawson said he was looking into what happened to Jackson, and that he’d help find out how he’d been burned, but so far they’d both come up with nothing. One minute his cover was blown, the next he’d been burned. His fist tightened on the keyboard and he forced himself to relax.
Thanks for the asset. She is something. News? He typed the words using the code he and Dawson had devised, hitting send as the water shut off.
What he really wanted to ask was, why Mariska? While her laptop and resources would definitely come in handy, there didn’t seem much she could do for him. Well, she was obviously loaded. Maybe Dawson thought he could use the cash. And possibly use spending time with her as a cover. No one would look for a burned CIA agent with a wealthy socialite.
Jackson picked up the phone and called the front desk to get a car and make some arrangements in case they found their quarry.
Mariska hummed a sweet tune in the bathroom and it was more than a little distracting. It took everything he had not to offer to dry her off. It had been a long time since his mind had been so full of a woman, probably not since one of his high school crushes.
He brought up the search engine again, and cleared away any evidence of what he’d been doing before. He didn’t want to risk suspicion.
When she walked out of the bathroom, she might as well have roundhouse kicked him in the gut. Her long, tan legs were at the bottom of a short black skirt topped with a red halter that looked sexy, but not cheap. Her feet were in sexy heels and it took him a minute to catch his breath.
She stared at him, scrunching up her nose. “Is everything all right?” Twirling around, she flashed a hand down her outfit. “Do you think it’s too much? I thought it would be best if I looked like arm candy, but do you think I need more makeup or something?”
She said it as if she had no idea how much the total package would be a constant distraction for him. Hell, she’d be a distraction for any man. Mar didn’t seem to have any idea how gorgeous she was, and he found that extremely appealing.
“No.” He shook his head. “I meant—the outfit is fine. I have some information for you.” He told her about the casino as she searched the dresser drawers for something.
“There’s one little problem. I’m not exactly flush with cash right now and to get in we’re going to need some to blow on the kind of game we want,” Jackson admitted. He did have a stash, but he had no idea how long it would have to last him.
She pulled out a purse from the dresser and put a lipstick and some other things inside. “Oh, that’s no problem. I brought some extra cash.” She pursed her lips as she walked toward him and he forced himself to stand still, instead of leaning forward and kissing the plum-colored softness before him. “Do you think twenty thousand will be enough? I can get more if we need it.”
The thousand-dollar-a-night suite was his first clue that she had money, but who traveled with that much cash?
“That should get us into the good tables,” he said, choking back a laugh.
“Cool.” She looked down at her outfit again, pulling at a thread. “Um, I don’t exactly have anywhere to carry that much, so maybe you better hold on to it.”
He realized how much she trusted him and a small pit of guilt opened up in Jackson’s gut. He didn’t deserve it, and when she found out, if she found out, who he really was she would hate him for eternity. But for now, he’d help her with her job, and do his best to keep her happy. If he helped her solve her case, there was a great chance she’d feel indebted to him. That might come in handy over the next week or so.
She seemed confident in her skin, but unaware of her beauty. Then there was her job. When it came down to tracking Gladstone, she really did seem clueless. It didn’t add up.
As they entered the lobby, he couldn’t resist asking. “Do you always travel with that much cash?”
She rolled her eyes. “You must think I’m insane. No. The bank delivered the money to the hotel this morning. Part of it is expenses for this case. I didn’t know how long it would take, and informants don’t take credit.” She fiddled with the purse.
Pausing for a moment, she seemed to check herself. “And part of it was for shopping. I planned to have clothes designed for myself, and some friends, and most of the tailors only accept cash. I have this, um, sort of compulsion for silk suits, and they make beautiful ones here.”
Jackson still thought that was a lot of money for a wardrobe, but he wasn’t one to judge. For him, money was a necessary evil of his job. Money equaled power, and he’d seen so many misuse both in his line of work. At least she was only buying clothes and not guns, which is what most of the people he’d worked with the last few years did.
After checking the cash out of the safe downstairs they climbed into the hired car Jackson had ordered from her hotel room. Taxis weren’t always safe in Bangkok, and he decided to rent a hired car in case they needed a quick getaway.
The club wasn’t far, but the traffic congestion was intense even close to midnight.
“Is it always like this here?” Mariska asked as she stared out at the crowds on the sidewalk.
“Pretty much 24/7,” Jackson replied. “It really is a city that never sleeps. The massage parlor was at the edge of the red light district, but this place is dead center. There’s—” He stopped suddenly, trying to think of the best way to tell her.
She gave him a curious look as if she wasn’t really ready for more surprises. He was sorry he had to disappoint her. “What?”
“I guess the easiest way to say this is, be ready for anything. You never know what you’re going to see in these clubs. It’s okay to act surprised, that’s what they expect from tourists, which is what we’ll be for our cover. If that’s okay with you.”
She fidgeted in her seat. “Do you think there will be snakes?” Her voice had gone soft again and his body reacted.
“I don’t know what you mean?” Jackson really was clueless.
“In the club. I saw this movie one time where these people danced with the huge snakes. I’m not a big fan of reptiles. They give me the squiggles.”
Jackson couldn’t help but laugh, and accidentally knocked his elbow against the door of the car.
“Um, I can’t say for sure, but I don’t remember seeing anything about snakes when I did the research.”
“Okay. Good. No snakes.” She took a deep breath and her face relaxed.
He couldn’t believe that snakes were the things she was most worried about. The truth was they were probably going to run into more than one snake of the human variety, but that’s why he was there. He’d protect her.
The car stopped in the middle of the street, and Jackson saw the flashing lights to the right. “Ah, here we are.”
The music booming out of the club was so loud they could hear it from in the car with the windows rolled up. Jackson slipped the driver an extra hundred and told him to hang around the corner on a different street. Then he paused and looked back through the window. “The hotel should have a package ready for you. Put it in the trunk and then we’ll meet up with you soon.”
“Okay,” the driver told him.
Phatong was one of those glossy-on-the-surface places with silver walls and glass tables, but underneath that it was slick and seedy. The loud music and the decor had been designed to make people drink. The more they danced, the more they drank. The more the clientele imbibed, the more likely they were to lose money in the casino.
Jackson had a plan. Keeping his hand on Mariska’s back, he led her to the dance floor. “This is the easiest place for us to get a good run of the place. Keep an eye out and let me know if you see any muscle. That’s most likely where we’ll find the casino entrance. They’ll have some guards posted to keep out any cops who might wander in. Best not to rush these things. We’ll let them think we’re here for a good time.”
Smiling up at him, she nodded. That show of pearly white teeth against the plum lips was enough for his cock to stir again. This had to stop.
She is a means to an end.
This was a job like so many he’d done before. He had to stay alert and couldn’t think about things like how her body would feel next to his.
The crowd around them was a mix of tourists and young locals hitting the club scene. The fast electronica beat moved into a slow song as they hit the dance floor.
Damn. Now he was about to find out exactly how she felt tight against him. At least he didn’t have to bop around like an idiot to fast music. That was one thing he’d never picked up in his training. The waltz and a modified box step were about all he could handle.
Of course, there was also the slow high school move where you put your arms around her waist and moved back and forth. Unfortunately for his libido, that was the only kind of dancing that fit this particular song. He pulled her to him in a smooth move, wrapping his arms around her hips, his hands lightly touching her lower back.
Her arms slid around his neck, and he tried not to think about her pert breasts pushing into his chest or the seductive way her hips moved from side to side. No, he wasn’t thinking about those things at all.
“She sure gets around,” Mariska said.
Jackson glanced around. “Who?”
“Natasha Bedingfield,” Mariska whispered, her breath tickling his ear and sending shivers of pleasure down his spine.
“Is she here?”
Her soft laugh caused him to gaze down at her beautiful face.
“Do you have any idea who she is?” Mar grinned at him as if he were missing the joke.
Jackson thought for a moment, but the name didn’t mean anything to him. “Uh, no.”
“She’s singing this song, ‘Soulmate,’ and it happens to be one of my favorites. It’s a few years old but I’ve always loved it.”
She was talking about the music. Jackson didn’t spend much time in the States, and while he had an MP3 player, he used it for downloading books, historical fiction and biographies.
“It’s nice.” It was an inane thing to say, but he wasn’t familiar with the artist. He did make a note that it was one of Mariska’s favorites. He wasn’t sure exactly why he found that necessary.
Keep your mind on the job, man.
Taking in the rest of the club, he twirled her around. There were a couple of bouncers near an entrance at the back. His first instinct was to hit the bar and get an invite, but the woman in his arms made him want to hold off a few minutes more.
It’s her favorite song after all. The fact that her fingers played a seductive rhythm on his neck had nothing to do with it.
When it ended, he took her hand and pushed through to the crowded bar. As he waited for the bartender to get their drinks, he listened to other patrons. One guy was talking about winning at the wheel. That meant a roulette table. They were on the right track.
Careful how he worded it, he spoke to the bartender in stilted Thai. He wanted the man to think he was a tourist who recently learned the language. Jackson asked if he knew of a place where a man could find a solid card game. Then he handed him a hundred-dollar tip. The other man pointed toward the back. “Tell them Kwan sent you.”
“Okay.” He pulled Mariska away from the crowd. “We’re going in, but there are some ground rules. Stay close and at the first hint of trouble we are out of there.”
As hard as he tried, it was tough to think of Mariska as a business partner. He had an overwhelming need to protect her. So much so that he considered scrapping their plan and taking her back to the hotel. He could handle this part of the job on his own.
“Jackson, I’m not an idiot.” Mariska’s frustration could be heard in her tone. “Trust me when I tell you that at the first sign of trouble I’ll be booking it like nobody’s business. Please don’t even go there.”
He glanced up to see the bartender watching them. To keep the man from getting suspicious he leaned down and captured Mariska’s lips. There was a tiny “oh,” from her but she didn’t fight him. Her arms snuck up around his neck as he further explored her mouth. She was sweet with a slight tang of the lime from her drink. More intoxicating than any alcohol he could have imagined.
Jackson lost himself in her. His brain shut down and his body responded to her in ways he hadn’t allowed himself in years.
This woman could be the death of me. The thought helped Jackson to finally pull himself away from her, but it wasn’t easy. “Ready?”
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