Cherry Adair - T-flac 03 Read Online Free PDF

was smarter than she appeared. Then again, if she were so damn smart, what the hell was she doing on top of Izquierdo?

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    He found himself at the starting post with more questions than answers. A situation he didn't like and wouldn't tolerate.
    A warm breeze brought in the scent of the citronella candles winking around the patio beyond the French doors. His keen hearing picked up the bug zapper, which was just out of sight, as insects got incinerated for their audacity to come close to the light.
    "Sorry I'm late." Peter Kensington strolled in, interrupting Kyle's musings. A servant immediately filled his wine glass, while another brought his dinner.
    Kensington had an Ashley Wilkes feyness about him. Wiry, with thinning blond hair, he used his slight build and general air of anemic weakness to good effect. A slippery bastard, he was second in command of a small, but powerful, terrorist group based in Ireland and had recently been involved in the bombing of three U.S. planes out of Heathrow and Orly. He didn't enjoy playing second banana and was here because Montero had encouraged him to be.
    Kensington acknowledged Kyle with a slight, and subtle, shift away from him in his seat. He graced Montero with a fawning, ingratiating smile, ignoring Delanie completely.
    "You found your quarters agreeable?" Montero asked, his mouth full as he gestured with his fork—a mannerism he retained from his humble beginnings. It was an indication of just how relaxed he was in his protected little kingdom. Anywhere else, Montero played his fabricated past and his wealthy, high-class playboy image to the hilt. He never forgot anything . Not even something as inconsequential as table manners. Montero's inattention to detail here on Izquierdo suited Kyle just fine.
    Cheeks flushed, Kensington managed a reply, struggling to swallow without choking, as he tried valiantly not to let his nervousness show. Kyle could have told him that the only kind of enemy a man should have was a dead enemy. People with a lot to lose couldn't afford to make foolish mistakes. He let the dissolute conversation between Montero and Kensington ebb and flow around him as he relaxed in the high-backed, velvet chair.
    "So, Kyle." Montero turned soulless black eyes to him, cutting Peter Kensington off in midsentence.
    "You and my Delanie are old friends."
    "Not quite the word I would have used, but yeah. We knew each other years ago." Kyle smiled at his host, a man-to-man look that had Delanie's grip on her glass white-knuckled. Montero chuckled.
    Kensington concentrated on his dinner.
    "As I offered at lunch, you have my blessing to resume your friendship while you are both here."
    Kyle saw Delanie's color drain beneath her makeup and her chin jerk up a notch. He'd found grim satisfaction in watching her nervousness escalate. She should be nervous. Damn nervous.
    "Generous." He kept his voice dry and his gaze on Delanie. "But totally unnecessary, my friend. The lady and I have no fresh avenues to explore." He held her gaze. "Do we, babe?"
    The gold necklace vibrated at the base of her throat as her pulse leapt in response to his volley. If looks could kill, he'd be rotting in his grave. He smiled gently at her, impressed when she managed to switch her venomous glare to vapid disinterest.
    "I'm sorry." Her eyes told a different story as she gave him a singularly sweet smile. "I really don't Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    remember one way or the other, ya know?"
    She turned to Montero, laying a slender hand on his arm, red nails long and startling against the darkness of his sleeve. Kyle distinctly remembered her having short, clear nails this afternoon at the pool. All she needs to complete the picture , he thought, biting back a grudging smile at her chutzpah, is a wad of snapping gum . He was surprised she hadn't thought of that prop.
    "Of course I'd