You Only Love Twice (Masters and Mercenaries #8)

“Get him talking about the senator, sister,” Ten said into her ear.

She really wished she could flip him off. She knew how to do her damn job. “So you work for a real senator?”

He leaned in, giving her what he probably thought were sexy eyes, but they mostly made him look sleepy. “As real as they come. I don’t know how closely you Brits follow American politics, but my boss is going to make a real run at the White House in a few years. Senator McDonald from the great state of Texas.”

That was what all the news stations believed. Hank McDonald was eyeing the presidency. He was an older man with all the charm of Clinton and the backing and power base of a Bush. “What is the US government doing here?”

“We’re not here in a strictly professional capacity. We’re just looking out for US interests. That’s kind of my job.”

“Is it?”

He looked left and then right and leaned in closer. “I watch out for my country, if you know what I mean.”

She heard Ten snort. “I do believe he’s going to try to convince you to sleep with him because he’s a spy.”

“Well, you know that’s the only reason I joined up,” Hutch replied. “I was promised an enormous amount of tail.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the ballroom door opening and a group of men in traditional Arab robes and keffiyehs covering their heads entering the room. She turned to get a good look at the new guys. “I thought you were an assistant to Senator McDonald.”

“That’s just my cover. I really work a much more important job. Ah, the Saudis are here. I’ll have to set up a meeting. The al Fareeds are old friends.”

“Really?” That was interesting. They were represented by Ibrahim and Hani. From the reports she’d compiled, she knew they were brothers, both in their forties, and they had taken over many of their family’s business operations recently. Like many wealthy Saudi sons, they’d been educated in the west. They’d both attended Oxford. Ibrahim had graduated with a master’s in world politics. Hani had a degree in business administration. The brothers had been back in Saudi for the better part of two decades and seemed uninterested in anything but business. On the surface, they were perfect family men who eschewed all the decadence their wealth could afford them.

“Yes, good men. Reasonable men, unlike your boss. I think you should really think about changing jobs.” He winked at her. “I can talk to the senator about finding you a place that will really offer you job growth. I think you’ll find Loa Mali is a dead end. Trust me. I know things other people don’t know.”

She didn’t like how certain he seemed. “I’m always on the lookout for a better opportunity. Any smart girl is. Perhaps you could introduce me to your friends.”

She didn’t want Jesse anywhere near the man who tortured him.

And killed her husband. She might be standing in the same room as the man who killed her husband and the only thing she could think about was protecting Jesse from him. She should be ready for vengeance, but all she could think about was what she could lose.

Didn’t Jamie deserve more?

He frowned. “Oh, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. You know how your boss loves women and surrounds himself with them at all times? The al Fareed brothers are pretty much the opposite. They have wives, but they don’t speak, if you know what I mean. They stay in the home and those men don’t party.”

“But they’re friends with the senator?”

“More like business associates.”

“The senator is actually in the business? I thought he was on some committee.”

“He is, but hey, there’s always money to be made. Everyone knows that.” His fingers ran up her arm. “Let’s head back to my room and we’ll talk about it some more.”

“Let’s let Murdoch go insane on his ass,” Hutch chuckled in her ear. “It’s been a while since I saw some blood sport.”

“Phoebe, you are not to leave that damn room. Am I understood?” Ten’s voice held no humor.

Like she would docilely walk away with her would-be rapist. Not likely. Still, she would love to put a bug in his room. She wanted to know what kind of money the senator thought he was going to make while here. No. She would just have to make sure the poor man couldn’t possibly perform. “How about one more drink? I’ll get it this time. I think I want something stronger than champagne.”

He glanced back down at her breasts and she knew she had him. “Of course, gorgeous. A whiskey on the rocks for me.”

She winked his way and started toward the open bar. “I know what I’m doing, Ten.”