Page 13 of Deadly Sights

“How about Tr?—”

CHAPTER 7

WAKING UP ALONE IN A HOTEL

Nadira

An all-too-familiar drilling sensation wakes me, disturbing the few tidbits of my dream I still remember. The faces remain a blur, but something about the girl in hair beads resonates with me. Maybe it’s because after my accident, I felt the same anger at the older kids in the Fostering Futures orphanage.

I try to hold onto the blurry images, but the pain in my head whites everything out. Deep breaths get me through the worst. Drugs do the rest. Once I can move my head and open my eyes minus the agony, I rise from the bed.

Shit! I missed my check-in with headquarters. I stumble toward my burner phone, my equilibrium still off from the residual effects of my headache. Twenty missed calls.

I redial the last number and confirm my identity when the line engages.

“What about, make it look like an illness didn’t you understand?” My handler, Gary, bites out every word in his harsh Scandinavian accent.

“It wasn’t me. Someone else took him out before I could execute my plan.”

The silence that greets my confession is not typical. Neither is having my target taken out by someone else. Someone I can’t afford to think about right now when Gary expects me to be cold and unemotional. But I’m so far from the unfeeling robot he’s used to.

“Gary?”

“When does your flight land?”

“Ten.”

“Make sure you’re at HQ by ten-fifteen for debriefing.” He hangs up without the usual jokes that only he gets.

Leaper chooses that moment to launch herself from the top of the TV cabinet onto the bed to lather me with affection. While I greedily soak up everything she has to give and not harbor thoughts about a certain man, a knock at the door puts me on high alert.

“Room service,” a strange man says.

“Leave it and I’ll get it when I’m ready.”

I didn’t order anything.

Like the movies, it’s always a good idea to suspect unsolicited room service orders. I creep to the door and lower myself to the ground. Barely visible are a pair of glossy black leather shoes that are part of the hotel uniform. Considering I’m still in the waitress uniform from earlier today, I don’t relax until five minutes after the feet and muted footsteps disappear.

I retrieve my gun before opening the door and wheeling the cart of food inside. I aim at the cloth draped to the floor, then fling a corner over the domed dishes. A sigh of relief escapes mewhen I find nothing there. With one danger addressed, I look at the top of the cart. A card lies beside the large dome.

I apologize for my hasty departure, but it couldn’t be helped. Trust me when I say I would rather spend the hours with you than what I have to do instead. Since I expect you’ll be hungry by the time you read this note, I’ve ordered you some things I think you’ll like. And before you throw everything away because you suspect I’ve poisoned you, remember, I’m waiting for you.

Yours,

Julian Reaper Caddel

I growl, scaring Leaper into hiding under the cart. How is it this… Julian character is so confident about me and what I like when we’re goddamn strangers? I raise the lid off the first dish, salmon, spinach, and a bean salad lie temptingly on the plate. Under a smaller lid, is chicken liver, a treat for Leaper. When my heart begins to melt, I stiffen my spine. The man is damn good at emotional manipulation.

There is a third dome. Since he’s proven to know I eat a high-protein diet, I suspect the third dish is my weakness. Given that Julian’s actions have never endangered me, I lure Leaper out of her hiding place with the liver.

As my cat and I enjoy the meal he provided, I turn on the TV for the news. A reporter details the emir’s assassination, but a breaking news update interrupts her. Ras Al Najib’s biggest trade competitor, Unlaak also has a representative who was brutally gunned down during a private party. I don’t need to be told that Julian’s quick exit had to do with Unlaak’s prime minister dying today.

Two targets in one day. I stamp out the admiration kindling inside me. I have more than one bone to pick with Julian, and holding him in high esteem will ruin the ass kicking he needs. With the main meal eaten, I eye the last dome on the cart.Curiosity gets the better of me and I peek at the contents. It’s as I suspected, a four-layer chocolate gateau with chocolate shavings stares back at me.

To distract myself, I pack my belongings. But soon I return to the cart, unable to deny the draw of the dessert. With a deep breath, I succumb to the temptation and relish every dark, sinful forkful. How is it I can have a candy drawer dedicated to Chelsea and never once open it to snatch her stash, but a few minutes with a dessert from Julian and all my will power hightails to another planet?

With no answer forthcoming, I turn to enjoying every bite of my dessert, moaning even as Julian’s words about fighting the urge to taste how perfectly I complement his favorite dessert whispers in my ear. When I finish the last mouthful of the amazing confection, I wipe down the room, leaving no trace of my presence. I have to put as much distance between myself and the memories of being in Julian’s arms, or I risk making a mistake. Though I have a cover for being in London, caution saves lives.

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