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As I shifted my gaze to the left, I was able to see a shadowy figure standing at least fifty yards away. Of course there were other rooms within feet of mine, the hotel likely full, but for some reason the person’s presence bothered me. I turned to face whoever it was, realizing they were taking pictures of the water. A smile crossed my face knowing the tourist was enjoying an entirely different kind of vacation than I’d just experienced.
I found myself moving toward the figure, only to realize the person had suddenly disappeared. Laughing, I returned to the beach, wondering why I’d been drawn to yet another stranger.
A sudden cold chill swept through me, the same kind I’d had working almost every case. Gregory had always called it my spidey sense, somehow knowing if the person on the stand was telling the truth or not. I continued laughing at myself as I headed for the hammock. The moment I crawled onto the webbing, enjoying the slight swing from the chains holding it to the trees, I was able to shove aside all thoughts regarding work. It was time to enjoy what freedom I had, indulging in…
I licked my lips as the rope design managed to dig into my upper thighs, the stinging sensations a reminder of the round of discipline. After a few seconds, I laid down, staring up at the bright moon, envisioning what it would be like to live on a tropical island. The fantasy kept me embroiled in visions and thoughts for several minutes, the rolling gentle waves almost lulling me to sleep. I closed my eyes, Alexei’s scent lingering, adding to the vibrations dancing through every muscle. He had such an incredible effect on me, more so than any man ever had before.
The lull of the light breeze, the kiss of humidity, and the slight swinging of the hammock was far too comfortable. As I heard music floating over the water, I allowed images of Alexei to drift into my mind.
Yes, it was far too… comfortable.
* * *
Alexei
The small store she’d mentioned had been just as she’d described, the scent of freshly baked bread a reminder of the few times my mother had spent more than a few minutes in the kitchen.
“Merci beaucoup,” I said after my things had been placed in a bag.
“Vous etes le bienvenu,” she said in acknowledgement, her gaze falling to my ruined shirt before smiling. Then she held up her hand, winking before bagging two perfect truffles. “Pour la belle femme.”
For the beautiful woman.
There was something especially magnificent about the French language, only some of which I knew. But I would understand a discussion about a stunning woman in any language, which is exactly what Stephanie was.
When I noticed several touristy tee shirts, I laughed to myself. Too overdressed. She was fire and brimstone wrapped up in a delicious package and I found her requests far too enticing to resist.
“Je vais en prende un aussi,” I said.
I’ll take one of these as well.
A smile broke out on the older lady’s face as she rang up the new order, sliding the shirt into a second bag.
The scent of the bread lingered in my nostrils as I headed into the parking lot and toward the rented vehicle. After tossing the items in the passenger seat, I moved around the back of the car, suddenly catching a glimpse of another vehicle. With the overhead lights at the end of the parking lot, I was able to see the driver clearly.
It was without a doubt the same man who’d approached Stephanie. I shifted my gaze enough to allow the man to believe I hadn’t seen him. Then I slowly moved to the driver’s door, taking my time to slide inside. The other driver pulled away and I kept my gaze locked onto the rearview mirror as I started the engine. While there was enough traffic it took a couple of minutes to exit the parking lot, I watched him returning to the hotel’s entrance.
As I’d always believed, there was no such thing as coincidences. I grabbed my phone as I made the turn, dialing Kirill’s phone number.
“I heard you were out of the country,” he said as he answered the call.
“I am. I need you to do me a favor. It would appear I was followed to St. Martin.”
“I’ve heard nothing new, Alexei. What do you need me to do?” His tone was as terse as usual, likely given I’d interrupted his personal time with his lady of a few months. For once I’d been allowed to see a softer side to the man, although that had obviously not taken away his edge.
“Find out who sent him and the reason why. He’s not Bratva, but I detected a European accent although he was trying to hide it.”
“Interesting. That’s all you have?”
“That should be all you need. I’ll handle the situation here. As soon as you know anything, leave a message. I may not be able to take your call.”
“Are you still playing with fire?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone.
“It would seem you’ve spoken with the Phantom. Remember who writes your paycheck.” To have two members of my team question me even to the smallest degree wasn’t acceptable. I was surprised Kostya had said a goddamn thing. That wasn’t like him.
I grabbed my silencer, checking the ammunition then sliding the weapon into my jacket. This would need to be handled carefully.
Then I yanked a pair of gloves from the duffle I’d left on the floor. I’d learned a long time ago to be prepared no matter where business travel took me in the world. I’d made the choice to come to the Caribbean without a single soldier accompanying me. Additional security measures would be needed if either Kirill or Kostya discovered any damning information.
