All Or Nothing (The Alpha Brotherhood #2)(21)
Author: Catherine Mann

“This is the panic room.” Conrad pressed a card into her hand with a series of numbers. “This is the code. Do not hesitate to use it in case of an emergency. Don’t wait for me. I can take care of myself a helluva lot better if I’m not worrying about you.”

Salvatore’s words from earlier came back to haunt her, about how she was Conrad’s Achilles’ heel. Her presence placed him in greater danger. Somehow in the rush to leave Monte Carlo, she’d lost sight of that revelation.

Tears burned her eyes, and she ached to reach for him.

“Jayne, it’s going to be okay.” He brushed her hair over her shoulder. “You need to sleep, and I need to check the place over. We’ll talk more later.”

She tried not to feel rebuffed. He was doing his job. She had pushed him away after Salvatore’s revelation.

Her hands fell to her sides. Of course he was right. She couldn’t possibly make rational decisions with her head cottony from lack of sleep. And if she couldn’t think clearly she became even more of a liability to Conrad.

Yet as he showed her to the guest room, she still couldn’t help wishing she could sleep in his arms.

* * *

Conrad punched in the code to the safe room where he stored all his communication gear and security equipment. The entire place ran off solar power and a satellite feed, so he couldn’t be cut off from the outside world. He kept enough water and nonperishable food in storage to outlast a siege.

Call him paranoid, but even in his infrequent freelance role with Interpol, he’d seen some intense crap go down in the world.

The windowless vault room in the middle of the house had everything he needed—a bed, an efficiency kitchen, a bathroom and a sitting area, small, but useful down to the last detail. A flat screen was mounted on the wall for watching the exterior. And an entire office’s worth of computers were stored away, ready to fold out onto the dinette table like an ironing board lowered out of a wall.

He parked himself in front of the secured laptop and reached for the satellite phone. He needed to check in with Salvatore. Halfway through the first ring, his boss answered.

“Yes,” the colonel barked.

“We’ve arrived, and we’re settled. No red flags here that I can see. What do you have on your end?”

“The money in Zhutov’s wife’s account has been withdrawn and we have images—which I’m forwarding to you now—of his known associates in discussion with a hit man. We’ve got trackers on both individuals.”

“I’ll review his wife’s bank accounts again. Why her assets haven’t been frozen is beyond me.”

“We do what we can, and you know that.”

“Well, let’s damn well do more.” Scrolling through computer logs of account transfers, Conrad tucked the phone between his shoulder and ear, not wanting to risk speakerphone where Jayne might wake up and overhear.

“Hughes, my people are on it. You should sleep. You’ll be more alert.”

“Like you sleep?”

The colonel was a well-known workaholic. When they’d all been in school they’d theorized that their headmaster was a robot who didn’t need mere mortal things like sleep. Seemed as if he was always walking the halls, day and night.

Salvatore sighed. “Go spend some time with your wife. Repair you marriage. Put your life back together again.”

“Sir, with all due respect, you saw her back in Monte Carlo. She was pissed.”

“I saw a woman who looked like she’d just been kissed senseless in an elevator.”

“You’re not helping the problem at hand by playing matchmaker.” He’d need more of a miracle worker to untangle the mess he’d made of his life.

“I sincerely hope you and she had a long talk on the airplane about your work with me.”

Just what he needed right now, a damn lecture on all the ways he’d screwed up his marriage. “Thank you for your input, sir. I’ll take that under advisement.”

The colonel laughed darkly. “Still as stubborn as ever, Hughes. Leave the sleuthing to my end this time. Your job is to fly under the radar, keep you and your wife safe. Let me know if you need anything.”

The call disconnected, and Conrad set the phone aside.

Three fruitless hours of database searching later, he slammed the computer shut in frustration. He couldn’t figure out if the clues just weren’t there. Salvatore’s words echoed through his head, about his job being to protect Jayne. The old colonel was right. Conrad wouldn’t be any good to her dead on his feet.

Resigned to surrendering, at least for now, he left the panic room and sealed it up tight again. The sectional sofa looked about as inviting as a bed of nails, but it was the best place to keep an ear out for Jayne—other than sleeping next to her, which didn’t appear to be an option tonight.

And speaking of Jayne, he needed to check on her, to leave her door open a crack so he could hear her even in his sleep. He padded barefoot down the hall to her room and eased her door open.

Bad idea.

Looking at Jayne sleeping was torture. And apparently he was a masochist tonight because he stepped deeper into her room. Her legs were tangled in the sheets, long legs bared since her nightgown had hitched up. Her silky hair splashed over the pillow in a feathery blond curtain.

She slept curled on her side, with a pillow hugged to her chest just the way he remembered. If they’d still been together, he would have curled up behind her, their bodies a perfect fit. He still didn’t understand how something so incredibly good could fall apart like their marriage had.

Tired of torturing himself tonight, he pivoted away and walked back out to the living room. He yanked a blanket off the ladder rack against the wall and grabbed two throw pillows. Even if his mind resisted shutting down, his body demanded that he stretch out and rest. But still his brain churned with thoughts of Jayne and how damn close they’d been to making love again.

If Salvatore hadn’t been waiting for them in the penthouse, they would have ended up in bed. He could still hear her cries of pleasure from the elevator. He could feel the silken texture of her clamping around his fingers.

They may have had their problems communicating, but when it came to sex, they’d always been beyond compatible. And they’d had other things in common, too, damn it. They shared similar taste in books and politics. She enjoyed travel and appreciated the beauty of a sunset anywhere in the world.

And they both enjoyed the opera.