Whispered Lies

  She had four days to complete her work on the computer system, then find a way to elude Carlos. The thought of leaving him knocked a massive hole in her confidence.

  Could she survive without him right now?

  What would he do if she did try and he caught her?

  Pierre paused at a door, punching a code into a panel to unlock it, then turned to her. "This will be your quarters."

  Gabrielle entered, her eyes trying to take it all in at once. This was the first time she'd ever set foot in the inner sanctum where senior staff and dignitaries stayed. The sort of suite her family would normally stay in when they traveled, but she hadn't in a long time. The ceiling soared to twelve feet. A gilt, eight-foot-wide wall-console table along the left end of the room had a Sarrancolin marble top and matching carved mirror that would overpower an average sitting room.

  Gabrielle had crossed to the beveled-glass window and turned in time to see Pierre start to step forward, then pause.

  Carlos lowered a dark-shade-covered gaze at Pierre.

  Powerful in every respect and with a confidence Gabrielle found enviable, Carlos just stood there, pulsing with intimidation.

  Pierre gulped and lifted his hand in a motion for Carlos to enter next, then followed. He cleared his throat, but his voice was a notch high. "We didn't know which bag was yours, Mademoiselle, so both were delivered here."

  Gabrielle stepped back through the sitting area, decorated with seventeenth-century furnishings, ignoring for the moment the double doors that opened into what had to be the bedroom.

  She hid her giddy feeling and turned a solemn demeanor to Pierre. "This will be acceptable. Merci."

  "Your room is across the hall," Pierre said to Carlos, and moved toward the suitcases. "Which one is yours?"

  Carlos strode over as if to point it out for him, but didn't. "I stay where she stays. We'll make this work."

  Pierre's appalled expression was nothing compared to what Gabrielle was feeling. Didn't Carlos realize how that would look or what the administration would think?

  "But, monsieur, this is not, uh, this is not-" Pierre's worried gaze ran to her for help.

  "Acceptable?" Carlos finished for him. "I'm not concerned with decorum, only her safety. Her reputation will remain intact...or I'll know who soiled it."

  Clearly not used to dealing with an alpha male, Pierre backed up two steps.

  Gabrielle had to help the poor guy or he'd have a seizure. "This is quite all right, Pierre." She walked over to Carlos and hooked her hand around his thick biceps and said, "I prefer that he stays," with just enough inflection for anyone to read between the lines that they were intimate.

  Her body jumped at the mere idea of being intimate with a man like Carlos.

  "If you say so," Pierre mumbled, confused. He finally regained his composure and gave them the four-digit code to open their door and dismissed himself, backing out.

  Carlos chortled, then turned those dark glasses on her.

  Gabrielle released his arm and let out the breath that had been strangled by the lump of fear in her throat. "Mon Dieu..."

  Carlos covered her mouth and she panicked. What was wrong?

  He leaned close to whisper. "Let me engage a bug jammer until I can sweep the room."

  She nodded and waited while he pulled out something that looked like an iPod and pressed several buttons. Her gaze strayed to the double doors open to the bedroom with its poster bed with a black brocade headboard. Gold, burgundy, and black pillows embroidered with alternating colors were piled at the head of the bed covered in black silk. She might have to make a running start to reach that mattress covered in black satin. The only other thing she could see from here was a rosewood chest-on-chest.

  Carlos stepped between her and the bedroom view, speaking quietly. "Okay, we can talk. What was that 'Mon Dieu' about?"

  "LaCrosse was close to a stroke when we left him." She kept her voice down just to be careful. "This might put him over the edge. I was afraid I said too much."

  Carlos's smile softened. He removed his glasses and stuck them in his jacket pocket and cupped her face with his hands. "Stop fretting. You did great. Do you always wield your family name like a sledgehammer?"

  His compliment stroked a balm across her fears, calming her. "No. I've never used my family's power before, but I remember how my mother would react when anyone tried to push her around. She was amazing so I just tried to act and speak the way I thought she would in my shoes. But I feel a little embarrassed at bullying a man I respect so much." Her voice trailed off with a fading memory of the woman she'd admired and lost at far too early an age.

  Carlos took her hands, rubbing his thumb across the delicate skin. Her heart took off racing again for an entirely new reason.

  She was alone with this gorgeous man whose touch was driving her crazy. Gabrielle leaned forward, her body taking the initiative she was terrified to consciously do.

  He lowered his head slightly.

  Her pulse pounded with anticipation. He was finally going to kiss her. She lifted up on her tiptoes. Her eyes fluttered closed.

  Carlos froze when he realized he was an inch from kissing Gabrielle. He'd been so surprised to see her confidence fly out the door behind Pierre after that show of force in LaCrosse's office. He'd meant to comfort her by holding her cold hands until she relaxed.

  She'd been pretending, and doing a damn good job of it.

  Her lips were so close he could feel her fast breaths on his neck. She wanted him to kiss her. It was written all over her face, but kissing her was not part of the plan. Peeling her out of that sexy suit sure as hell wasn't part of the plan, even if she might share more about what she knew.

  He'd never use a woman that way.

  Welcome to four days of hell.

  She moved until her hips met his.

  Carlos gritted his teeth and eased back, whispering, "You ready to get to work?"

  Gabrielle's eyes flew open, filled with disappointment. Then accusation. And finally, the worst blow, hurt.

  Just kill me now. He wanted her, dammit, but letting her in on that would only complicate this further.

  "The sooner you finish your work here, the sooner this is over with." Carlos maintained a facade of hard determination, feeling like a snake for giving her the false impression that she'd get her life back if they succeeded at finding a link between Mandy and Amelia.

  He couldn't tell her Joe had lied to her.

  BAD generally brought felons into custody for a short time, then they became someone else's problem.

  He couldn't look at her and think felon.

  Gabrielle swung away from him, grabbed the handle of her suitcase, and disappeared into the bedroom, slamming the door.

  Yep, four days of hell.

  Carlos sighed. He used the psuedo-iPod to search for bugs while he waited on Gabrielle to regroup and walk out of the bedroom. He found one bug, then returned it to the white marble base of a crystal sculpture centrally located on the low coffee table.

  Phone had to be tapped as well.

  When the door opened again, Gabrielle emerged dressed in navy slacks and a white, scooped-neck sweater. Her hair was falling loose around her shoulders in thick waves.

  Everything had changed, except the hurt in her eyes.

  He needed her to trust him without question while here or he couldn't protect her since neither of them knew what dangers lurked inside this ancient pile of stones.

  Carlos walked over to her.

  She crossed her arms and looked away.

  "You forgot your earrings," he told her.

  She frowned at him, lifting a hand to her ear. "What?"

  He lifted his finger to his lips and pointed at the bedroom. She backed into the room and he closed the door, then ran a quick scan over the room for a bug. None.

  Whoever set the bug hadn't figured on her having company.

  He stepped close to her, but she backed away. He put his hands on her shoulders, holding her i
n place when he leaned down to whisper, "There's a listening device in the sitting area next to the phone."

  She stiffened.

  "Since we know where the bug is, we'll be careful. And, about earlier, I didn't mean to-"

  "What? You didn't mean to what?" She turned her face to his, eyes first hopeful, then waiting to be hurt again.

  Her lip trembled.

  He couldn't build trust if he trounced on her feelings.

  "You didn't mean to kiss me," she continued. "Why? Because I'm not good at it?"

  Ah, hell.

  Her forehead squeezed with a frown. "Or was there something else you had in mind to tell me? Like how you don't like having to be here with me or..." Her voice was turning more heartbroken by the minute. "Or how I'm not your type-"

  The job had nothing to do with what he had in mind.

  "I didn't mean to...do this." He drew her into his arms and kissed her.

  Her hands slipped around his back, climbing up his spine, honing the edge of desire that charged through him.

  The first time he'd kissed her had been an unexpected pleasure, but nothing like this one, that burned with a fever pitch. His mouth feasted on hers, taking all she gave to him willingly. If she'd held back or hesitated, he might have been able to pull out of the spinning nosedive, but she kept urging him for more.

  He pulled her closer, loving the feel of her. A real woman with curves in all the right places and perfectly shaped. His fingers lifted the back of her cashmere sweater from the waistband of her pants, then he felt the smooth skin hidden beneath the gossamer fabric. Soft, like her. He inched his fingers up her back, nothing impeding his progress.

  Nothing. As in, no bra.

  Carlos groaned. She was practically naked in his hands.

  She rubbed her hips against him, right where he was hard as the rock walls surrounding this compound.

  The surge of heat that shot up through his groin shook him.

  She wanted this as much as he did, so why not?

  Clearly, the wrong brain had taken over doing the thinking.

  Her hands moved between them, clutching at his shirt, turning him on more even, though her movements were awkward at times as if she had little experience. Definite turn-on.

  He'd had women who knew every way to touch a man.

  Gabrielle was fresh and eager in a way that felt innocent.

  She lifted the bottom of his shirt. Her delicate hands sent shivers up his spine with the way she touched his abs, lightly, then more boldly. She shoved the material up farther and lowered her head to kiss his abdomen.

  Her fingers moved ahead, playfully caressing his nipples then pausing at...the scar on his chest.

  The Anguis tattoo.

  If she found out...what little sanity he had left gnawed its way through the desire frying his brain. He still didn't know how much she knew about the Anguis. Carlos pulled his hands quickly to her shoulders before she lifted his shirt another inch. When he set her away as gently as he could, his shirttail dropped.

  Hallelujah for gravity.

  Confusion glazed her eyes.

  A knock sounded at the front door.

  Good thing, since he did not want to answer the questions percolating behind that gaze. He didn't want to lose the ground he'd gained either. Carlos dipped his head and gave her a quick kiss, then whispered, "I'll answer the door. You straighten your clothes."

  She gasped, looking down at herself, where the worst part was her knit top pulled loose, but it bought him a quick out.

  He shoved his shirttail into his pants and slipped on the shades as he strode to the door, then opened it. "Yes?"

  Pierre was back. "Is Mademoiselle ready?" He tried to peer around Carlos.

  "She'll be right out." Carlos closed the door without another word and turned as Gabrielle walked out of the bedroom, neat as a pin.

  She had that look, as if she wanted to talk, but he put his finger to his lips to spare himself a conversation he really didn't want right now. He winked at her.

  Gabrielle rolled her eyes. She was fully composed when he opened the door wide to reveal Pierre still standing in the same place.

  "Hello, Pierre." Gabrielle stepped forward, forcing the little squirt to back up. "I'd like to see the IT center and get started."

  The efficient Pierre nodded and turned to leave.

  Carlos stepped out behind Gabrielle and closed the door, but when he turned around, she hadn't moved.

  She covered her mouth with her palm and leaned toward Carlos, speaking for his ears only. "If you plan to stay in there with me, we're not finished with that conversation."

  SIXTEEN

  I'D LIKE OUR meal sent up to the room at eight thirty," Gabrielle told Pierre, who'd written the order on a notepad as she'd dictated. She kept her step brisk, her heels snapping against the hard floors on her way back to her room.

  "Oui. Will there be anything else for this evening?"

  "No, thank you." She checked her watch. That would give her and Carlos a little over an hour when no one should bother them. She glanced back at her bodyguard, whose hard expression hadn't changed since walking out of the room seven hours ago.

  What was going on behind those bloody sunshades?

  At the last hallway leading to her room, Pierre peeled off in a different direction.

  Carlos reached the door first, punching in the code, then let her step inside. "Stay here while I check everything."

  Did he really think someone would be lurking inside? She waited until he stepped out of the bedroom and crooked a finger for her to come to him.

  She walked forward, but he stepped back into the bedroom before she reached him. When she got inside, he pulled her close to him. Gabrielle slapped both hands on his chest and shoved her face up into his.

  "Not until we talk," she warned, disgusted that every nerve in her body had just jumped into high gear, ready to let him get away with kissing her again.

  To get away with a lot more.

  She had some pride left. No more hot kisses until he explained why he'd stopped the last time.

  The only reason she could figure was that he got caught up in the moment, but wasn't interested in anything sexual with her. That possibility stung almost as bad as having him yell at her to put clothes on in the cabin.

  He didn't find her physically attractive.

  Carlos didn't say a word, but he didn't intimidate her either. He'd never harm her, physically. She knew that with a certainty she'd never felt about any other man, which weighed heavily in his favor when it came to kissing him.

  They had been halfway to the part where they fell into bed together. She hadn't dated a man in forever, and sex had become a distant memory.

  But she wanted him to feel the same heat for her.

  Her moral compass spun out of control over the idea of sleeping with a man she didn't know anything about, whom he worked for, where he came from, or what would happen once this was over. But she'd married a man she knew all that about only to be treated like a bank account with legs. Roberto had used her in more ways than one, leaving her emotionally bankrupt.

  Just once, she'd like to experience true passion.

  But she and Carlos only had an hour, so she didn't have time for a discussion. She had to get down to business.

  "We have to hurry," she started in a hushed voice.

  "About that kiss-," he murmured. Was that guilt rippling through his voice?

  "We don't have time for that right now." She almost smiled at his confusion. "First, I have to take this panic button off. When I stepped near a communication console, it buzzed and everyone looked up. I don't know why it happened. Next, I got into Amelia's records. She's expected back, at least on paper. I found the plans for this compound in the archives and the floor her room is on."

  Understanding dawned in his eyes. "Stick the panic button in my bag. Put on soft-soled shoes. Tell me you're taking a nap and don't want to be bothered. Speak loud enough to be heard in the living room
and use that snobby tone again."

  Snobby? She curled her lip in what she hoped was a feral look.

  His eyes crinkled, but he didn't laugh. "I'm not criticizing. I was impressed."

  Her insides melted over the compliment. She backed out of his arms and quietly pulled her sneakers from the suitcase. Once she had those on, she took a fortifying breath before speaking loud enough for anyone listening to hear.

  "Jet lag is catching up to me. I need a nap and I don't want to be disturbed."

  Carlos walked out into the living room so she followed him. He closed the bedroom door with a solid thump, then pulled her over to the powder room and closed that door softly once they were both inside.

  "This room is safe. What about the plans?" he asked.

  "When the IT center was built, the engineers needed the plans so they could run additional power and so forth. I recall a worker talking about how they couldn't set a beam in one spot because of the underground tunnels. So I dug around for the plans today and found how the wires had been run underground between this building and student housing for women. I think they took the easy way and ran the wiring through the tunnels."

  "Okay, so what does that do for us?"

  She cocked her head in a smug angle. "While you were looking all hot and dangerous outside the glass window to the IT center, I was locating Amelia's room and creating a loop for the security cameras we'd pass. She's in the high-priority residence area, same section where Linette and I stayed. If we're quick, we can check out the room to see if she's coming back, but they'll become suspicious if the camera loops run too long. We may see some students since this is mealtime, but once they shut the building for the night, security walks the halls."

  "Will you be able to tell if anything looks wrong about the room?"

  "Yes. When Linette left without notice, her half of our room was clean within a day. If Amelia is gone against her will, I'm thinking at least one-half of the room will be spotless."

  "Good idea. Nice job."

  "Thanks." She preened inside and started to reach for the handle when he said, "Hot and dangerous?"