their marriage than give her the least inkling about his secret agent double life.
To think, she’d been a kiss away from tearing her clothes the rest of the way off and jumping back in bed with him, even though he hadn’t changed one bit. Even now the moist pleasure lingered between her legs, reminding her of how easily she’d opened for him all over again. Part of her hoped he would deny what she’d said, come up with some very, very believable explanation.
Except, damn him, he simply nodded before he turned back to John Salvatore. “Colonel, can we get back to Jayne’s safety?”
“We have reason to believe the subject of your most recent investigation may have stumbled on your identity, perhaps through a mole in our organization. He’s angry, and he wants revenge.”
Salvatore’s veiled explanation floated around her brain as she tried to piece together everything and figure out what it had to do with her husband. “Who exactly is after Conrad?”
They exchanged glances and before they could toss out some “need to know” phrase, she pressed on. “If I’m uninformed that puts us both in more danger. How can I be careful if I don’t even know what to be careful about?”
Salvatore cleared his throat. “Have you heard of a man named Vladik Zhutov?”
Her heart stopped for three very stunned seconds. “Of course I’ve heard about him. He was all over the news. He’s responsible for a major counterfeiting ring. He single-handedly tried to manipulate some small country’s currency to affect the outcome of an election. But he’s in jail now. Isn’t he?”
The colonel dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief. “Even in prison, he has influence and connections, and we have reason to fear he might be trying to use those against Conrad.”
She flattened her hand to the nearest chair to keep her legs from giving way underneath her. Her husband had always been so intent on separating himself from anything to do with his father’s world. Even though his parents were both dead, Conrad wouldn’t even visit their graves.
Was he on a vendetta of his own? Had he placed his life at risk to see that through?
Anger at Conrad took a backseat to fear for his safety. Her stomach knotted in horror, terror and a total denial of the possibility of a world without Conrad’s indomitable presence. “Are you saying this individual has taken out some kind of hit on Conrad?”
She looked back and forth from the two men, both so stoic, giving away little in their stony expressions. How could someone stay this cool when her whole world was crumbling around her? Then she saw the pulse throbbing in Conrad’s temple, a flash of something in his eyes that looked remarkably like...raw rage.
Salvatore sat on the chair beside her, angling toward her in his first sign of any kind of human softening. “Mrs. Hughes—Jayne—I’m afraid it’s more complicated than that. Intelligence indicates Zhutov has been in contact with assassins, ones who are very good at what they do. They understand the best way to get revenge is to go after what means the most to that person. You, my dear, are Conrad’s Achilles’ heel.”
* * *
Conrad was certain his head would explode before the night was through. What more could life catapult at him in one weekend?
The thought that someone— anyone —would dare use Jayne to get back at him damn near sent him into a blind rage. Only the need to protect her kept him in check.
Later, he would deal with the inevitable fallout from Salvatore ignoring Conrad’s request to shield Jayne from the messiness of his Interpol work. He could think of a half-dozen different ways this could have been handled, all of which involved not telling Jayne secrets that could only put her in more danger.
Since Salvatore had dropped his “Achilles’ heel” bombshell, the colonel had taken charge as he did so well. He’d shown Jayne his Interpol identification and offered to fly her to headquarters in Lyon,
To think, she’d been a kiss away from tearing her clothes the rest of the way off and jumping back in bed with him, even though he hadn’t changed one bit. Even now the moist pleasure lingered between her legs, reminding her of how easily she’d opened for him all over again. Part of her hoped he would deny what she’d said, come up with some very, very believable explanation.
Except, damn him, he simply nodded before he turned back to John Salvatore. “Colonel, can we get back to Jayne’s safety?”
“We have reason to believe the subject of your most recent investigation may have stumbled on your identity, perhaps through a mole in our organization. He’s angry, and he wants revenge.”
Salvatore’s veiled explanation floated around her brain as she tried to piece together everything and figure out what it had to do with her husband. “Who exactly is after Conrad?”
They exchanged glances and before they could toss out some “need to know” phrase, she pressed on. “If I’m uninformed that puts us both in more danger. How can I be careful if I don’t even know what to be careful about?”
Salvatore cleared his throat. “Have you heard of a man named Vladik Zhutov?”
Her heart stopped for three very stunned seconds. “Of course I’ve heard about him. He was all over the news. He’s responsible for a major counterfeiting ring. He single-handedly tried to manipulate some small country’s currency to affect the outcome of an election. But he’s in jail now. Isn’t he?”
The colonel dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief. “Even in prison, he has influence and connections, and we have reason to fear he might be trying to use those against Conrad.”
She flattened her hand to the nearest chair to keep her legs from giving way underneath her. Her husband had always been so intent on separating himself from anything to do with his father’s world. Even though his parents were both dead, Conrad wouldn’t even visit their graves.
Was he on a vendetta of his own? Had he placed his life at risk to see that through?
Anger at Conrad took a backseat to fear for his safety. Her stomach knotted in horror, terror and a total denial of the possibility of a world without Conrad’s indomitable presence. “Are you saying this individual has taken out some kind of hit on Conrad?”
She looked back and forth from the two men, both so stoic, giving away little in their stony expressions. How could someone stay this cool when her whole world was crumbling around her? Then she saw the pulse throbbing in Conrad’s temple, a flash of something in his eyes that looked remarkably like...raw rage.
Salvatore sat on the chair beside her, angling toward her in his first sign of any kind of human softening. “Mrs. Hughes—Jayne—I’m afraid it’s more complicated than that. Intelligence indicates Zhutov has been in contact with assassins, ones who are very good at what they do. They understand the best way to get revenge is to go after what means the most to that person. You, my dear, are Conrad’s Achilles’ heel.”
* * *
Conrad was certain his head would explode before the night was through. What more could life catapult at him in one weekend?
The thought that someone— anyone —would dare use Jayne to get back at him damn near sent him into a blind rage. Only the need to protect her kept him in check.
Later, he would deal with the inevitable fallout from Salvatore ignoring Conrad’s request to shield Jayne from the messiness of his Interpol work. He could think of a half-dozen different ways this could have been handled, all of which involved not telling Jayne secrets that could only put her in more danger.
Since Salvatore had dropped his “Achilles’ heel” bombshell, the colonel had taken charge as he did so well. He’d shown Jayne his Interpol identification and offered to fly her to headquarters in Lyon,
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