License to Love (An Agent Ex Novel), Page 8

  “It was Lani’s idea.” Tal nodded toward her.

  She grinned.

  “This one is an exact replica of your real thumb,” Tal said. “It was made by a prosthetic artist to match your skin color. It’s even calloused like your thumb and has your thumbprint on it. Just don’t work on your tan until this mission is over.”

  Rock had a pretty good idea of who had gotten his thumbprint and thumb measurements. “Measured me in my sleep?” he said to her. “What else did you measure?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Her gaze dropped to his crotch.

  He sure as hell hoped no one had developed that kind of gun yet. He wasn’t strapping one on no matter who ordered it.

  “Okay, you two, stop flirting. Try the thumb on, Rock,” Tal said.

  Rock slid it on his right thumb and tilted his head side to side as he evaluated it. “Not bad.”

  “Not bad? That thumb’s genius. A real bit of magic.”

  Rock was in a contrary mood and offended anyone who would think he didn’t already have the best for his act. So far he saw no real advantage to this new rubber thumb. “Mine’s pretty damn good, even without my thumbprint. That’s just over the top.”

  “You think so?”

  Rock pursed his lips. “This one is a bit heavier. Clunkier.”

  Tal laughed. “Clunkier? You mean has more features. Like a single-shot gun in it.”

  Rock couldn’t hide his surprise. “No shit!”

  “One shot, magic man. For emergencies only. Use it wisely.” He held out his hand for the thumb.

  Rock reluctantly handed it over.

  “The safety’s on now. You disable it here.” Tal showed him how to use the secret trigger. “Think you can remember all that?”

  “Piece of cake. Watch this.” Rock grabbed a paper napkin from the counter. “Here it is, just an ordinary paper napkin. Nothing special about it. Until I make it disappear.”

  He made a fist with his left hand and began stuffing the napkin into it. When he was finished and none of the napkin showed, he blew on his fist. He opened both hands for Tal and Lani to see. “Vanished.”

  “Not bad.” Tal studied Rock’s right hand. “The fake thumb looks natural. Maybe a shade longer than the left if you look closely enough. You’re going up against one of your colleagues. He’ll be looking for tricks, though probably not for thumb guns. What do you think, Lani?”

  “He’s pretty good at disappearing a napkin. And the thumb looks real.” Lani glanced at the clock. “Look at the time. I have to run.” She slid off her stool and grabbed a bright yellow purse from the counter. “Off to see a man about a job.”

  She wore tight short shorts and heels that made her legs look long and turned Rock on.

  “Looking like that?” Rock said.

  She struck a pose with her hand on her hip. “You don’t like?”

  She was just taunting him now.

  She laughed. “This is just my leaving the house disguise. I’ll change before I get there.” She pulled a set of car keys from her purse.

  “You have a car?”

  “The Agency left one for me yesterday.” She turned to go.

  “Lani?”

  She paused and looked at him.

  “Be careful.”

  She grinned back. “Always.”

  Rock and Tal watched her leave.

  When she was gone, Tal stared him directly in the eye. “A word of caution—forget about Lani. Don’t let her mess with your mind or the mission. She’s a danger to you. More dangerous even than Blackledge and RIOT because she’s your Achilles’ heel and everyone in magic and clandestine circles knows it.”

  Tal shook his head and mumbled beneath his breath. “I don’t know what the chief was thinking bringing a layperson into this mission, magician or not. Especially one whose vulnerability is tattooed on his chest. Someone should have warned you—never ink a broad’s name on your body. That one’s going to be hell to erase.”

  “Erase?” There was no damn way Rock was ever having Lani’s name removed. If for nothing more than to remember the lesson. “She’s my wife.”

  Tal laughed. “See what I mean? Point made. Lani screwed up by marrying you. A weak moment in her mission, or maybe she just couldn’t figure a way to get out of it. Either way, not good spycraft. Don’t make the same mistake. Don’t let her get to you again.” Tal paused and took a sip of his coffee. “Cold.”

  Rock wasn’t sure whether he meant Lani or the coffee.

  “If all goes according to plan, Blackledge will reappear Lani in his act within a week. We’re already working on prepublicity for the show where he does it, getting a slew of reviewers and media types in the crowd as soon as we know the exact date. Blackledge won’t be able to resist this opportunity to show you up.

  “We’ve also deposited the reward money in a special account for you. Blackledge will come calling for it soon enough.

  “Tate will be in Blackledge’s audience when Lani is reappeared. But before that, this afternoon, you’ll run into him in the hotel lobby where he’ll profess a fondness for your act. You’ll show him a few magic tricks, help him out at the card tables, and the two of you will become fast friends.”

  Rock shook his head. “I’m banned from the card tables.”

  Tal shrugged. “Tate isn’t. And his money talks.”

  Rock crossed his arms. “I don’t have time for cards. If I’m going to carry off this illusion, I’ll need a cast of magicians. And a place to rehearse. Plus all the toys, props, and supplies.”

  Tal laughed again. “If your mission planners tell you to play cards, you have time for cards. As for the other, Tate’s working on getting your magicians. All in due time.” Tal grinned.

  “Wait until you meet Tate. He can charm the skin off a snake or the most valuable intel out of the most tight-lipped terrorist. You’ll have fun playing cards and hanging with him. Enjoy it.”

  * * *

  If alien beings actually popped to Earth and were presented with Sol Blackledge and Rock Powers, odds are they’d pick Sol as the good guy. Of course they’d be wrong. Sol had all the clean-cut good magician looks of a David Copperfield or Lance Burton while Rock was often compared more to David Blaine or Criss Angel. And if the hypothetical aliens had the sense to look deep into Sol’s eyes, as Lani was forced to do in his penthouse suite at the luxury hotel on the Strip where he performed night after night, they’d see the dangerous drive and greed in them. But as is so often the case at first glance—good appears evil and evil as good.

  Sol sat in a plush leather chair facing the 180-degree view of downtown Vegas with his shoes off and his legs crossed, a glass of Scotch in one hand. He was mindlessly bending a spoon with the other as he studied Lani with a look meant to pull the truth out of her.

  “So the errant, disappearing Mrs. Powers is back,” he said in the mesmerizing stage voice he’d cultivated over the years.

  It had little effect on Lani, who knew most secrets of magic and who’d trained to steel herself against all interrogation techniques, including hypnosis. Only Rock was able to penetrate her guard.

  “I must compliment you—you’re exceptional with a disguise.” His gaze raked over her. “I didn’t recognize you at first. Even now that I know you’re you it’s hard to grasp.”

  He’s impressed. Good.

  Lani shrugged. After leaving Rock’s mansion, she’d changed and played up her Asian looks. And yes, she did look very different from the Latin beauty she’d shown Rock.

  “Talent and genetics. I can be any race I want to be. Be anyone, except a Nordic blonde.” She stood with her hip cocked, not quite comfortable enough to sit yet. Besides, she was still strutting her stuff.

  Sol grinned and stared at the bustier top she wore which pushed her breasts up to the point of almost tumbling out. Two and a half years ago, Sol had wanted her for more than his act. If the hungry look in his eyes was any indication, he still did.

  “You haven’t lost your fi
gure,” he said, appreciation practically oozing in his voice.

  She smiled, stretched, arched to show off her form to even better advantage, like a Playboy playmate in a spread. “I haven’t lost a lot of things.” She bent over so he got the full view of her breasts, and rested her palms flat on the floor, even though she was wearing three-inch heels.

  “Impressive,” Sol said.

  She stood erect. Did a backflip, landed, and twisted herself into the tiniest of pretzels, a ball so small she could fit herself into the tightest of magician’s cabinets.

  Sol clapped. “Indeed you haven’t lost a thing, Lani.”

  “I’ve been staying in shape. Doing some yoga. I’m delightfully limber.” She let the suggestion hang in the air and unfolded herself, stood, strutted to a leather sofa across from Sol, and slid onto it, crossing her legs provocatively and smiling.

  Sol released the spoon he’d been toying with. “What do you want from me, Lani?” It was clear he was intrigued and trying to maintain control; his voice had a breathless edge.

  “I want to be your main assistant. I have the skills, the chops, the drive.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I have an assistant. Several, in fact. Damn good ones.”

  “My mistake, but I thought you were advertising for a new one?”

  He grinned. “Not a new main assistant.”

  She grinned back. “Can any of them upstage Rock like I can? I want you to be the magician who reappears me and steals Rock’s thunder.”

  Sol laughed again, but his eyes were hard and intense as he studied her. “You know I’d like nothing better than to upstage Rock, baby. But running out in the middle of a show, and only mere hours into a marriage, that’s hardly reliable behavior.”

  They’d reached the delicate part of negotiations. “I had to run, Sol.” Lani put just the slightest bit of pout and feminine frailty into her voice. There was nothing like a damsel in distress to stir ardor in the male breast, even in a black heart like Sol’s.

  Sol cocked a brow. “In the middle of Rock’s trick? It couldn’t have waited until, say, after the show?”

  Lani looked casually down at her long, manicured acrylic fingernails as if she was nervous. Which she was. Nervous and excited. She had her cat on her string. Sol was interested. It was time to swing the ball of yarn and keep him batting at it, gently reeling it in until she had him in her lap right where she wanted him.

  She looked up at Sol, rotated her foot to show off her sexy, strappy sandals, another feigned nervous gesture, and met Sol’s eyes. “I’ve always had a flair for the dramatic.”

  She smiled slowly. “You know my motto—if you’re going to do something, do it all the way and make sure you generate the most attention possible.” She paused and shrugged. “Besides, I had no choice. I was running for my life.”

  The truth, as far as you can tell it, is always more convincing than a lie. Just as a smile must reach the eyes to be believed, so must anger, bitterness, and fear.

  Sol took a sip of Scotch. “No choice, baby?”

  “Do I have to explain?”

  “You do if you want me to hire you.”

  She shrugged again. “My ex was in the crowd. With a gun. That jealous bastard—”

  She cut herself off for effect and paused. When she spoke again, she lowered her voice and made it shake with rage. “Why do you think I was in Vegas in the first place? I was running from him. It only took him six months to find me even though I’d covered my tracks and been clever with my disguise and new identity…”

  She took a deep breath, acting as if she had to calm down. “That bastard was there to kill me. As he’d promised to do a dozen times before. He said that if I ever left him…”

  She shuddered on cue and took another breath.

  “I have no doubt, none at all, that if I’d finished the show and tried to leave the hotel, he’d have found and killed me. And Rock. Probably after beating the shit out of me first. And torturing Rock.”

  She shook her head, keeping her eyes steely. “It was foolhardy of Rock to announce our marriage during the show.” She didn’t have to feign her bitterness.

  “It practically sealed his death warrant. Or would have if I hadn’t disappeared. Fortunately,” she hesitated as if she were about to trip on a name, “the ex took off after me immediately and left Rock alone. I barely escaped out the back…”

  She paused again and shuddered, remembering slipping in the dead RIOT agent’s blood. “He was already after me.”

  She stared at Sol, trying to give him the impression she was deciding whether to trust him or not. “That was the worst night of my life. I ran out the back into the dark of the back parking lot and right into a dead body.”

  She shivered again. “It was so dark I didn’t even see the bloody thing. I tripped over it, slid in the pool of blood, broke my heel, and kept running.” She took a deep breath.

  “You didn’t see anything else?” Sol seemed more interested than a casual observer. RIOT of course wanted to know what Lani the magician’s assistant knew.

  When she laughed it wasn’t pleasant, but harsh, cynical. “Like the murderer? No.” She shook her head. “But I was scared, really scared. I had a raging ex after me and I’d just stumbled onto a murder scene. It could have been a gang execution, for all I knew. You know this city. No way I was getting in the middle of testifying in something like that. That’s a death warrant.” She took a deep breath. “I ran, just ran.”

  She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward as if imploring Sol to understand. “After that I couldn’t come back. The cops would want to talk to me; keep me around as a witness. I’m as civic-minded as the next person. But I didn’t see a thing, just a dead body. I had other things on my mind.” She studied Sol. He appeared to be buying her story.

  “Leaving in the middle of the show was the only way I could think of to escape. And protect me, Rock, the crew. That bastard ex didn’t expect me to run in the middle of a trick.”

  She laughed as if delighted with herself that she’d pulled one over on him. “When you think about it, it was very clever of me.”

  Sol was still studying her and, though he prided himself on his inscrutable expression, she could practically see the wheels of his little criminal mind turning. He wanted to believe her.

  She was telling him just enough truth to lead him on.

  “Does the ex have a name?”

  She studied her nails again, admiring the pretty flowers on them before glancing up at Sol from beneath her false lashes. “Not that you need to know.”

  “I see,” Sol said. “So hiding out for two years, that was to avoid this jealous bastard and any questions from the cops?”

  She nodded.

  “Now that you’re back and ready to reappear, I assume the problem’s been taken care of.”

  She met his eyes and let her grin spread organically. “He won’t be bothering me, or anyone, again.”

  “So the fewer questions asked…” Sol’s eyes had an evil, admiring twinkle in them. He looked almost turned on.

  Lani smiled in reply and winked at him.

  “Well, that answers the big question—why you haven’t come back to divorce Rock and capitalize on his fortune. The papers have assured the public there was no prenup involved with this quickie wedding.” Sol picked up the spoon and wove it through his fingers, disappearing it up his sleeve.

  “But why me, your husband’s nemesis, Lani? There are other magicians on the Strip, not to mention Rock himself.” Sol acted cool, but his eyes gave him away. He wanted this opportunity to show up Rock so badly it hurt.

  “You’re the best. Rock pulls his punches. Doesn’t take the risks he should and could to create the best illusions. Now that I’m unencumbered I want fame. And fortune. Plenty of it. My own with no strings attached and no one’s permission to get to spend it. I want to be my own woman.

  “After the experience with my ex, you could say I’m a bit burned. The independent life has b
ecome much more attractive than being saddled with a ball and chain. You never know when a ball and chain will suddenly decide it can be a weapon.”

  She put a touch of seduction in her voice. “I’m sorry, Sol. I made a mistake choosing Rock over you the first time. Who knew he’d get so possessive? I belong to no one but myself. I think you and I are a lot alike that way.”

  “We all make mistakes, baby.”

  She couldn’t tell whether that was an acceptance of her apology or not. She simply babbled on like a nervous showgirl. “Let me join your entourage, Sol. You have to admit, it will make for superior showmanship. And isn’t that what this is all about?”

  “And Rock? Your marriage?”

  She snorted as if cynically amused and shook her head again. “The marriage was one of those get-drunk-and-get-married things that happen in Vegas. Usually to tourists. And women stupid enough to think they’ve found a steady man who can protect them.” She straightened and sat back on the sofa. “The marriage was over the moment it began. Rock is too possessive. It scares me.”

  “Yes, babe, but how will you be dealing with it?” Sol set his glass on the end table next to him. “This is tabloid fodder of the finest kind.”

  She studied Sol, grinned, and nodded. “Yes. And if we’re smart, which we are, we can make a few bucks by tipping the best of them off to my reappearance.”

  Sol laughed. “You are a mercenary bitch.” The words rolled off his tongue like flattery. “There’s the matter of the reward money, too.”

  “Oh, I haven’t forgotten that. Rock will be mad as hell at having to pay it to you. As for you and me, we split it fifty-fifty.” She grinned. “See? I’ve just paid for myself. How many girls can say that? You’re getting me for a steal. How can you turn down an offer like that?”

  Sol’s eyes gleamed with avarice and lust. “You still haven’t answered my question—how are you going to play Rock? What will you tell the tabloids about why you’ve come to me? The public loves Rock. They’ll hate you for betraying him.”

  “They love you, too, Sol. Don’t forget that.”

  Sol laughed. She’d properly stroked his maniacal male ego.