Part 12 (1/2)
Her smile turned acidic sweet, and crossing her arms, she leaned one shoulder against the door. ”Guests, Stash darling?” she asked, surveying the three faces. So, for once Tess was wrong. But somehow Marlena didn't feel like yipping it up with her mentor this time.
One of the men gave her a look meant to insult. ”You look just as good at close quarters.”
”If you're here to take her in, do so,” Steve cut in. His curt tone made the others stop their leering perusal of her. There was a small silence, as if they were each waiting for someone to speak up. Marlena noted that Steve exchanged different looks with each of the men. Interesting. Two of them didn't like her Stash.
”It's our turn, buddy,” the man said defensively, looking at the bed. ”Looks like you've taken her in already. Right into bed, that is.”
The other two men laughed. Marlena studied each of them, gauging who the leader was. None of them, she decided. ”Ah, the peeping Toms,” she said, still leaning against the door. ”Wondered when you would make an appearance.”
”You have to come with us.”
”Am I under arrest?” She doubted that. Too much paperwork, and she would be out with a call to a lawyer. No, she knew these people weren't going to follow protocol. Bringing in the law made it tough to hold her for long. Ignoring Steve, she met the first man's eyes squarely.
”How do you know we're the law? We could be just the usual sc.u.m you deal with.” The man obviously enjoyed the role of intimidator, letting his eyes rove her body again in an insolent manner. Except that he wasn't very good at it.
”Your clothes,” Marlena drawled out. He looked down at his clothing, clearly puzzled. ”Most of the sc.u.m I deal with dress a lot better, darling.”
One of the men-lean-faced, with longer hair-chuckled, and patted the man she addressed on the back. ”She's got a point there, Whitney.”
”I think Miss Maxwell here doesn't know how much trouble she's in, Cam,” Whitney said, pulling at his tie and suit. ”Weapons are illegal in D.C. We know you have at least two in this apartment. That's enough to haul your a.s.s in. Then there is attempted murder.”
Marlena finally turned to Stash, who didn't waver under her scrutiny. ”Well, well,” she said softly. What had she expected, that he wouldn't go through her things? ”Three peeping Toms and one thief. Do you mind if I get dressed first? Or do you want me to go with you like this?” She dropped her lazy stance and made to turn around.
Whitney shook his head. ”Uh-uh, you aren't changing in there.”
”In front of you?” She lifted an eyebrow. ”Expecting a show?”
”Why not? You were pretty good at giving one the other night,” Whitney reminded her. He took a step forward. Marlena didn't back away. She knew the man was just acting out by-the-book tactical training. This kind of manipulation, however, wouldn't work with her.
”No,” Steve said quietly. But there was a dark heat in his eyes as they met hers.
Oblivious to the emotions surging under the surface, Whitney sniffed loudly. ”Man, you're nuts if you think we're letting her go in there to get dressed. Who knows what else she has in that bathroom?”
”Are you saying she's going to come out guns blazing and none of us can handle her?” Steve countered mildly. Yet his eyes continued to convey an entirely different message.
Whitney hesitated at the logic. ”Look, Harden's orders were not to allow her out of our sight.” It was apparent that he wasn't going to back off on this.
”I'll go in there with her.” Steve glanced at Cam. ”Okay?”
”Oh sure,” Cam said, shrugging. ”You've already eyed her anyway. Hey, can I eat that ham and eggs in the kitchen while you're in there, Marlena?”
Marlena decided she kind of liked the tall, lean one. At least he didn't attempt to play Dragnet with her, choosing instead to diffuse the situation by mentioning food. ”Sure.” She allowed a nicer smile, to show her admiration of a skillful negotiator. ”You look like you need some meat on you. There are plenty of pancakes and m.u.f.fins, if you like. I can even make you an omelet.”
The tall, gangly man coughed into his fist. ”I'm sure Stash...um...Steve's ham and eggs will be sufficient for now.”
Amused, she let slide the fact that Cam had probably seen the green omelets she was capable of producing. ”In that case, I'll be right out as soon as I can.”
”You do that,” Cam said easily. ”Come on, boys. Give the lady some privacy.”
”I'm standing right out here,” Whitney said stubbornly.
The third man shrugged and followed Cam. ”Yeah, okay,” Cam said, not even bothering to look behind him. ”You can back up Steve if he gets in trouble.”
Steve came forward and took Marlena by the arm. His grip was firm, and she was tempted to shake him off. She didn't want him touching her right now. Dirty b.a.s.t.a.r.d.
”Let's go in,” he said, as if he understood she was contemplating a fight. ”You can deal with me in there.”
Marlena could think of several ways to deal with men who betrayed her, none of which was quite as pleasurable as last night's odyssey. Images of what they had done several hours ago interrupted the torrent of names she was mentally calling him, dampening her anger. d.a.m.n it. Why did she have to like the man so much? She couldn't even get worked up when he betrayed her.
”I'll be right out here, Steve,” Whitney called after them. ”She makes a move, just yell, and I'll be right there.”
”Uh-huh, thanks, man,” Steve murmured, as he gently nudged Marlena back into the master bathroom. He closed the door and locked it.
Steve knew he didn't have much choice in what was happening. This was Marlena Maxwell, known a.s.sa.s.sin. This was an operation to find out whom she had been contracted to kill. He was part of the team, following orders. Last night there had been an attempt on a very prominent businessman's life. That kind of news made it quickly through to headquarters, and of course by morning TIARA HQ would know from police reports that Marlena Maxwell happened to be a guest at the party. These facts pointed to a possible tie between their suspect and the attempted murder. Marlena Maxwell was known for these kinds of things. And here was where it all ended.
Except that last night he had been very sure Marlena hadn't had anything to do with what happened to du Scheum. In fact, du Scheum had trusted her enough to let her wander around his study. But he needed Marlena to tell him that herself.
”It isn't what it looks like,” he began, then wished he could retract his words. Not the best way to begin an argument with Marlena, by going on the defensive.
She moved away from him and walked to the closet. Not looking at him, she said, ”No? You mean you weren't sent to keep an eye on me and report on my whereabouts at all times? You weren't going to put me into a slammer the moment you found any evidence against me? You weren't planning to sleep with me just to get closer?”
He knew that no matter how he answered, she had him. He couldn't be defensive and do his job. He leaned back on the closed door. ”If you knew, why did you let me?”
She paused, then pulled out two pairs of lacy underwear. ”Let you what?” she asked, frowning at the panties as if she had to make a very important decision.
”Let me stay with you. Why did you let me make love to you?”
Marlena tossed one pair of panties back into the closet and pulled out another. ”Red or black?” she murmured.
He wasn't going to be rated below the importance of ladies' underwear. In one swift stride he was behind her, turning her around to face him. Her hand swung up, aiming for his solar plexus. He blocked it, barely escaping a blow as he ducked from her other hand. There was a loud clatter where his hip hit the dressing counter, scattering makeup and jars.
”Hey, McMillan, you okay in there?” Whitney yelled through the door.
Steve grunted when he was quick enough to avoid the brunt of the second attack. He caught her arm and used her forward momentum to propel her into his arms.
”McMillan?” Whitney said again, banging on the door.
”Yeah, stay out there...oomph...” The woman had sharp elbows. He curled an arm around her waist and lifted her off the floor. ”Lena, please, I don't want to hurt you.”
That was another wrong statement, he realized. It only made her madder. Now she wasn't just throwing punches; she was using her training to hurt him.
He cursed loudly when she connected with his kidney, forcing him to release his hold. She dropped to her feet and jammed another elbow into his ribs. He managed to get out of the way this time, slamming the closet doors shut.
”I'm coming in,” Whitney yelled, jiggling the doork.n.o.b.
”Stay out there,” Steve yelled back. Obviously his brain had gone south, not using his skills to subdue her. Grimly he caught one attacking hand and pulled her forward again. This time, knowing about those elbows, he locked both her hands behind her and jerked her back so she would lose her balance. He forced her backward against the counter and with his free hand, pulled her by the hair, tugging her face up.