Secret Agent Sheikh

“Ah yes,” she interrupted. “Let’s jump the story ahead to fifty years ago when the Kadirs were already filthy rich in the shipping industry and looking to fur ther their interests in the Zabbarán territory.” She quirked a brow. “Didn’t your family make a secret deal with the Taj Zabbar’s neighbors and oppressors, the Kasht? Supposedly the Kadirs traded guns and other armaments for the sole rights to the only deep-water port in Zabbarán and the surrounding area. Right?

“Now that was really some Spice Trade.” She’d added her own answer with a wry smile. “And didn’t the Kasht use those very weapons to subdue a revolt by the Taj? They killed Taj women and children, put the men into slave labor and then burned and pillaged everything in sight. Nice family trade, Kadir.” A note of derision filled her voice. “Why am I not even a little surprised that the Taj hate your family and want revenge?”

Tarik tamped down on the automatic rise in his blood pressure. He knew the truth of what his family had done and who they were now. The Kadir family’s past was not spotless. But in more modern times they had become contributing members of civilized world society—unlike their counterparts the Taj Zabbar.

“I don’t have to defend my family to anyone. Everything you said may be true, but it was done long ago. Before either of us was born. And it’s no excuse for the Taj to behave the way they do today.” His eyes hardened. “They’re terrorists, killers and brutes. They deal with drug lords and mobsters the world over. They’ve tried to annihilate my family by blowing us up, and never mind that fifty innocent people were caught in the explosion.”

He took a breath and let the words roll out. “They kidnap vulnerable women and sell them to the highest bidders. They run their own country like a medieval fiefdom, even with all their new wealth. And worst of all, they are secretly planning to become the world’s newest nuclear power before any of the civilized nations can take notice.”

“How do you know that last part? About their nuclear ambitions.”

She had genuine interest in her eyes for the first time since he’d begun speaking. The new expression made her look young … vulnerable, and made Tarik damned curious about getting to know this part of her a lot better.

“My middle brother Shakir went into Zabbarán covertly a few months ago to rescue the woman who has since become his wife. She and their son were being held for trade to the highest bidder,” he explained. “I was part of my brother’s backup team. While we were there, we found an underground nuclear centrifuge facility and …”

“What?” Jass leaned in close and pinned him with a doubtful look. “From what I understood the Taj are too backward and couldn’t possibly have that kind of scientific know-how.”

“Just listen,” he began, instead of counting to ten to calm his temper. “I have in my possession a few satellite photos of the area under construction. And the images seem clear enough to people in the know. But we blew the place up before we left the country. I figured why not take the opportunity and save the rest of the world a hell of a lot of grief.”

Jass leaned back in her seat. “So you don’t have any real proof. Only wild speculation and fuzzy pictures.”

He bristled but kept his voice down. “I was there. And our family’s intelligence units have been picking up further mentions of nuclear subjects in the current Taj communiqués. We’re sure they haven’t given up their ambitions.”

“How so?” she probed.

“Look at the other night. They sent a couple of representatives to that auction and stole the briefcase bomb, didn’t they?”

“Did they? We only have your word on that. I wouldn’t know what they look like. The Taj aren’t on the world intelligence radar screens.” She smirked at him. “Those Middle Eastern men in the room that night could’ve just as easily been members of the Kadir clan for all I know.”

Frustrated, Tarik sat back and stared out the window before he made a few remarks that would be totally inappropriate for anyone who intended to become her lover within the next few hours. He was usually much better at capturing a woman’s attention and interest than this. In fact, he was always better at convincing people of his honesty and sincerity. Ironically, that was part of what made him such a good covert agent.

What was with Jass O’Reilly? He’d known she was slightly different than most women. But she wasn’t even responding to him like a normal human being.

He was foundering here, trying to find some common ground. What the hell would happen when they had to pretend to have an intimate love affair?

Jass was a pro. She didn’t need Tarik Kadir to remind her of their mission. But he’d tried to do exactly that as they left the plane and entered Rio’s Galeao Airport. She’d sniffed at his ridiculous attempt to rile her and brushed out past the flight attendants.

Throwing her tote bag over her shoulder, she sidled up close to him on their walk to retrieve the baggage and whispered low, “Don’t forget Zohdi wouldn’t let Celile carry anything heavy—or walk too far ahead. It’s part of his macho personality.”

Tarik’s body jerked, almost imperceptibly, but he slowed enough to reach around and take her tote with a huge grin. “Here, let me, my darling.” He used a clear, slightly accented voice. “Wouldn’t want to tire you before we reach the hotel. I have big plans for us later tonight.”

She ground her teeth and smiled seductively. “Of course, sweetheart. But business comes first.”

Fortunately for her, another part of Zohdi’s personality was deeply rooted in his Middle Eastern background. He did not indulge in sentimental bodily contact in public. No pawing or slobbery kisses for him. She almost reminded Tarik of that, but decided to keep her mouth shut for now.

Zohdi never let his gaze stray from the love of his life for long. And he never let her talk to another man without putting himself close enough to feel her pulse beat.

Jass thought that last part might’ve been romantic if the two people in question weren’t such a dangerous duo. And if her undercover partner on this romantic assignment wasn’t Tarik Kadir.

The Rio airport terminal was a madhouse. Crowds descended from every corner and surrounded them as they walked. Jass felt the tension building in her every cell. While she was undercover, she never cared for crowds. An assassin could easily attack from any direction and she wouldn’t recognize the threat until it was too late.

When they finally reached the baggage carousel, they found the crowds impenetrable around it. This much congestion in the Rio airport on a Thursday evening seemed strange—and she wondered if it could potentially signal a glitch in their mission.

The two of them stood motionless at the edge of the crowd for a moment as they silently pondered their best plan of attack for reaching the luggage.

“Ms. Kocak. Sheik Zohdi.” Suddenly a man who seemed to be a native Brazilian spoke to them with a heavy accent. He’d appeared out of nowhere right beside them. “I am your driver. Your luggage is being sent ahead. Please follow me.”

Jass raised her shoulders along with her gut instincts. Ed had told her they would be contacted by someone from the CIA station chief’s office with further instructions. But she hadn’t expected anyone this soon.

She glanced at Tarik, who also seemed to be on alert, but then he gave her a cockeyed grin and inclined his head. “After you, love. I am yours to command.”

He was silently signaling that he was leaving the choice to follow this man up to her. Her whole body trembled with pride and an odd sensual awareness as she forced herself to turn and make her way through the throngs behind the stranger.

That grin of Tarik’s might end up becoming her undoing before their assignment was over. The man was impossibly handsome all dressed up as a modern sheik in his Versace suit, white linen boat-necked shirt and head scarf. Jass shook off the sensual pull she’d felt and worked her mind back to the persona of Celile.

She had to remember that Ed said not to trust Tarik despite his glib manner and sincere looks.

They reached the curb in front of the airport and found a sleek black sedan waiting. Their driver paid two thugs who were obviously carrying concealed weapons and, with a few words in Portuguese, sent them on their way. Then he ushered her and Tarik into the backseat.

As they pulled into the stop-and-go traffic, she asked the driver, “What’s going on here? Why all the people and congestion?”

Suddenly their driver didn’t have even a slight accent. “You’re kidding, right? Tomorrow is the start of Carnivale. The tourists are pouring into the city. Expect the crowds to get a lot worse over the next four days.”

“Smart.” Tarik relaxed back into his seat and propped an ankle over his knee. “The Russian picked the best time of year to hold this little auction. His buyers will be tough for us to pick out from the rest of the tourists.”

She turned to see Tarik in the dim light filtering in through the car’s windows. “Have you ever been to Rio’s Carnivale before?”

“Several times. You’re going to love it. All sensual music, body heat and very little clothing.” He chuckled under his breath. “It’s guaranteed to warm up the chilliest woman on earth. Even the ice queen Celile Kocak doesn’t stand a chance during Carnivale.”

Oh hell. The man was doing his damnedest to unnerve her. Well, no matter what Tarik Kadir sent her way, she wouldn’t let him throw her. She would remain in control.

After all, Jass O’Reilly was a pro.

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