Always Look Twice
Chapter One

Late Summer

Lanai, Hawaii

The things we do for family.  

Mark Callahan sucked a peppermint while his bloody hands clutched the coarse holds of the blue-black rock face.  Halfway up the 200 foot cliff, his right foot searched for the next foothold.  Below him, ocean swells crashed violently against the rocks.  Above him, a three-quarter moon and sky full of stars cast a silvered light across the land.  Soft music and occasional laughter drifted on the gentle breeze from the terraces of the mansion called Hau%oli.

From the Zodiac anchored below, his brother Matt’s voice sounded in his earpiece.  “You doing okay, bro?”

“Nice of you to ask,” he drawled in reply, the sarcasm in his voice unmistakable as he rolled the hard candy around his mouth. 

“You scared the shit out of me during that slide.  I dropped my mike.  Took me a couple minutes to find it.  What happened?”

“I damn near fell, that’s what happened.  The wall pancakes from 10 feet of solid basalt to 10 feet of fractured, crumbly rock.  Lost my footing.  Sliced my hands to hell.”

“Well, be careful.  We don’t have time for you to climb the cliff twice.”

His brother’s sympathy overwhelmed, so Mark responded, “Bite me.”

His foot found purchase on a narrow ledge and he ascended another step.  Filling his lungs with salt-scented air, he looked up.  Fifteen minutes more, he figured as the last of his peppermint melted away.  Maybe twenty.  He had plenty of time.

Mark knew what he was doing.  He’d climbed more dangerous cliffs in his life under far worse conditions.  One instance in the mountains of Afghanistan stuck out particularly vividly in his mind.  Wind blowing like a sonofabitch.  Gunfire from down below pinging off the rocks all around him.  Tonight’s climb was a walk along the Brazos compared to that. 

Besides, he’d prefer the challenge of a cliff any day or night to what awaited him above.  A party.  The kind with expensive food and liquor and women–women whose smiles were as plastic as the boobs on their chests.  Not at all his idea of fun.

He adjusted his night vision goggles, then spied another foothold.  He worked steadily, capably, and quietly until he reached the top of the cliff.  “I’m here.  Signal Luke.”

“Roger.”

“No, not Roger.  Luke,” he murmured back, easing the tension with the old, bad joke. 

Mark cautiously lifted his head and studied the area in front of him.  Solar lamps and spotlights illuminated the area.  Beyond a short hedge of flowering bushes, lush green grass stretched toward the house some thirty yards away.  To his left he spied a resort-style pool and tropical waterfall and spa.  A tennis court lay off to his right.  This stretch of land along the cliff was the only section of the estate’s perimeter not fenced.  However his research had indicated the presence of a buried cable perimeter intrusion detection system.  Judging by the presence of guests milling on the lawn, the protective alarms were disabled for the evening, just as he’d anticipated.

Excellent.  His gaze swept the area, then snagged on a woman dressed in red facing away from him.  Whoa.  He popped another peppermint into his mouth and savored.

The gown exposed most of her back and clung like a second skin to a shapely, world-class ass.  She was tall and lean, and she wore her auburn hair piled high on her head.  The long slit in the back of her dress revealed shapely legs that stretched on forever.  From this angle, anyway, she was one fine example of womanhood.  He wished she would turned around.  Wished he was closer so he could see her more clearly.  Something about her called to him.

Hold on, Callahan.  Remember where you are.  What she’s liable to be.

He’d outgrown porn queens years ago.

Seconds later, the first explosion sounded, followed quickly by a second, then a third.  Luke’s distraction successfully alarmed the guests strolling on the lawn and sent them hurrying toward the house. 

The woman in red took off the opposite direction toward the pool area.  Hmm.  Curious.

A guard rushed past Mark’s position, pulling his sidearm as he ran toward the booms.  Luke’s string of high-explosive, not-legal-in-the-good-old-USA firecrackers were doing their job.

Mark pulled himself up over the crest of the cliff onto level surface.  He ducked behind a flowering bush, stripped off his black jumpsuit, and used it to wipe the blood from his hands. After stashing the suit and his climbing shoes in the shrubs, he removed his dress shoes from his pack and slipped them on.  A quick glance confirmed that no one looked his way, so he shot the cuffs of his tuxedo, stepped out onto the lawn, and strolled toward the house. 

Glass doors led into a sumptuous formal living and dining suite with a wall of floor to 12-foot-ceiling windows that provided a panoramic view of the Pacific.  Bet the daylight view took a man’s breath away.  Kinda like the woman in red. 

The guests stirred in concern over the commotion outdoors until security personnel began circulating word of firecrackers and troublemaking teenagers at the neighboring estate.  Mark accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and returned his attention to his surroundings, idly noting the opulence of the furnishings and design of the luxurious estate.  The style was classic Louis XV with magnificent marble and murals, crystal chandeliers, and embroidered silk draperies that framed technicolor views of the Pacific ocean.

Obviously, porn paid exceptionally well.

The estate’s owner, Harvey P. Selcer was a second generation pornographer who used his father’s string of adult bookstores to launch Selcer Films back in the 1980's.  A B-school graduate, Harvey’s business model brought modern marketing techniques to the industry, and today Selcer Entertainment Group was sometimes referred to as the Microsoft of the porn world.  Now in his fifties, Harvey had billions in the bank, a Hugh Hefner reputation, and Howard Hughes paranoia.

And, a porn queen girlfriend born and raised in Brazos Bend, Texas. 

Hence, the Callahans presence at this party.  Sophia Garza had called home for help, claiming that Selcer wouldn’t allow her to leave the estate.  Her great-aunts, Maria and Juanita Garza, had asked the Callahan brothers to solve the problem.  Mark didn’t care a flying fig about Sophia–she was a pitiful, pitiable figure in his opinion–but he loved the Garza sisters.  They had worked for his family for years and become family in the process.  He and his brothers had made this trip for them.

A woman dressed in blue sidled up next to him.  Not Sophia–  her pretentious habit was to always wear pink.  “Hello, handsome.  I don’t believe we’ve met before.  My name is Eloisa.  What’s yours?”

Mark arched a brow and gave her a swift once over. Bleached, Botoxed, lifted, and implanted.  He didn’t bother to smile as he replied, “Not interested.”

She huffed off as Matt spoke into his ear.  “Don’t be such an ass.  Socialize.  Remember, you need to blend in.”

What he needed was to find Sophia and get the hell out of here.  With that objective in mind, he made his way toward one side of the bronze, wrought-iron twin staircase thinking he could more easily observe the crowd from the upper mezzanine.

Halfway up the staircase, Mark hesitated.  The hair on the back of his neck rose.  In his peripheral vision, he caught sight of the woman in red.  There is something about her...  But as he turned his head to look at her fully, the sight of another person stopped him in his tracks. 

Dark hair worn long and tied in a ponytail.  Thin, harsh features.  Narrow black eyes.  Mark swallowed what was left of his peppermint.  “Holy shit.”

“What is it?” Matt asked.

“Not what.  Who.  Radovanovic is here.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the wire before Matt said, “You’re kidding.”

“Christ, no.”  Mark almost, almost, pulled his 9mm from his shoulder holster and shot the bastard dead.  Rad might not be the one who actually kidnaped and murdered Mark’s brother, John, but as Ivars Ćurković’s first lieutenant, he’d damned sure protected the man who had. 

In that moment, Radovanovic lifted his head and caught sight of Mark.  The shock in the Eastern European’s eyes quickly morphed into fury.  He and Mark had gone a few rounds more than once in the past.

“You need to get out of there,” Matt said.

“No shit.  He’s seen me.”  Mark knew he was in a vulnerable position and should move, but be damned if he’d break eye contact first.

Matt let out a long string of curses.

“No sign of Sophia, yet, either,” Mark said when Matt paused to catch a breath.  “Maybe I should just kill him.”

Matt hesitated a moment before saying, “No.  We don’t have the necessary connections in Hawaii, and the red tape would be hell.  What the fuck is Radovanovic doing there?  He’s on the wrong damned side of the world!”

Finally, ol’ Rad caved and shifted his gaze away.  Mark continued up the staircase, his mind considering and discarding  various scenarios of how to deal with this unexpected complication.  What would the Croat mafioso do now?  Send his minions after Mark?  Probably.  He would want to know the reason why they both ended up in the same place at the same time. 

Or, maybe he’d run.  He wouldn’t know that Mark didn’t have an army backing him up.  Of course, Mark did have his brothers who were better than most armies in the world.

Upon reaching the mezzanine, he turned to survey the scene below him once again.  Rad stood beside the door leading to the pool area and there, a flash of pink.  Sophia, on Harvey Selcer’s arm. 

Hmm...  That gave Mark an idea.  Maybe he could pull this off, after all.  He’d use Selcer to–

The familiar sensation of a gun barrel poking into his back stopped him cold. 

“Of all the ops in all mansions in all the world, he has to walk into mine,” came a hauntingly familiar feminine voice.  “Do exactly as I say, Callahan, and you might get out of here alive.”

Mark’s jaw had slackened in shock.  “Annabelle?”

“Hush.  Don’t turn around, and for once in your stubborn, granite-headed life, listen to me.”

Annabelle.  It had been Annabelle in that red dress, not a porn queen.  Although, had she chosen that particular career path, she would have been a star. 

“Give me your Glock.”

Mark snorted.  The last time he’d seen Annabelle she had not only stolen his gun, but also his wallet and his clothes in a childish fit of pique.  “Yeah, right.  I know all about how you like to leave me naked.”  

“They’re watching, Callahan.  Don’t be an ass.” 

Keeping her gun against his skin, Annabelle shifted around to his front, rubbing up against him in such a way that it appeared to casual observers that she was coming on to him.  Her beautiful brown eyes snapped and flashed.  He dropped his gaze to the full, creamy cleavage displayed by her plunging neckline.

“Shooting you might be one of my favorite dreams, but I’d prefer to do it on my own terms, not Radovanovic’s.  However....”

She poked him hard with her gun. 

He saw it wasn’t the 9mm Sig she’d always favored, but a red Glock that reminded him of the pistol Matt’s wife Torie owned.  “A girly gun?  You’re using a girly gun now?”

“It was a gift to match my dress.”  She slipped her hand into his jacket and lifted his weapon.  “From Rad.”

Mark stiffened and everything inside him turned cold.  “For God’s sake, Belle. What are you involved in?”

Through the miniature speaker in Mark’s ear, Matt said, “Mark?  Care to share what’s going on?  Is a woman holding a gun on you?”

“She’s not a woman.  She’s my wife.”

Following a long pause, Matt said, “Another secret wife?”

“Yeah.”  Mark sighed.  “Unfortunately, this one is still alive.”

#

Annabelle Monroe wondered if she’d brought this disaster on herself.  When Paulo Giambelli hired her for this job and handed over his dossier on Radovanovic, she’d been dismayed to read of his connection to the Callahan family.  As second-in-command to Ivars Ćurković, Rad had been part of gang of thugs that kidnaped and killed Mark’s younger brother, John.  Apparently, Mark had crossed paths with Rad a time or two since then with violent results.  As a result, after reading the file, Annabelle had spent way too much time thinking about Mark.

Earlier when she first spied that tall, broad-shouldered figure with his thick brown hair and jade green eyes she had thought she must have conjured him up out of her imagination.  Now, faced with the flesh-and-blood man, she decided that all that thinking about him must have kick-started some bad-luck karma and summoned Mark Callahan to Hawaii.  “I’m alive and I plan to stay that way.  You’re wired?”

He nodded.  “My brothers.”

“They’re on the grounds?”

“They’re close.”

“Good.  We might need reinforcements.  Now, move your buns, Callahan.  I told Rad I’d bring you to the pool house.”

He planted his feet and hardened his jaw.  “I’m not letting you serve me up like borscht for ol’ Boris.”   

“I wasn’t planning to.  Once we’re outside, I’ll let you overpower me.”

He did a double-take.  “You?  Miss No-Man-Will-Ever-Get-The-Better-Of-Me Monroe?”

“It’s the opportunity you’ve dreamed of for years.”  Annabelle turned her head and flashed Rad a confident smile.  With a quick, deft move that no casual observer would have noted, she showed the Croat that she held both her own gun and Mark’s.  Softly, she said, “He’ll expect us to go downstairs and out through the French doors.  He might send backup.  We’ll go out through the kitchen on the opposite side of the house.”

“Are you sure–?”

“Don’t argue.  Move.  Look angry.”

Mark shot a killing glare toward his old enemy.  “Not a problem.”

Annabelle’s thoughts spun as they descended the staircase, and she analyzed this new development’s effect on her plans.  She couldn’t abort the operation.  Somewhere on this island, a woman was scheduled to die unless she and her team found a way to prevent it.  But neither could she abandon Mark to Radovanovic.

She was the only person allowed to kill Mark Callahan.

She threaded the way through the downstairs crowd wishing she wore something less eye-catching than fire-engine red.  They caught a bit of good luck when the latest female porn superstar entered the room near them, and the crowd surged forward to pay her tribute.  Mark and Annabelle took advantage of the opportunity and ducked into the hallway that led to the kitchen. 

As part of her preparations for the evening, Annabelle had obtained and studied blueprints of the house.  She knew that Mark would have done the same, so when he moved in front of her, she allowed him to lead the way.  He’d served as point man for the unit on most missions, so it was a natural response.

One that she regretted when instead of continuing toward the door that led outside, he opened the linen closet door and yanked her in with him.

The light that had come on when he opened the door went off again when he shut it.  Though the closet itself was oversized, shelving filled the majority of the space, leaving them uncomfortably close and darkly shadowed.  “What are you doing?” she hissed.

“I’m not going any farther until I’ve heard a Sitrep.”

Her gaze narrowed.  “Did we have to do that here?” 

He held up his hands, palms out.  “Hey, I’m no more anxious to occupy a closet with you than you are with me.  Last time we did this we ended up married.”

Annabelle closed her eyes, the memory of that incident alive in her mind as if it were yesterday.  It had been a year after she’d officially separated from the army when their special Military Intelligence unit reunited for the wedding of their explosives specialist, Jeremy Russo.  To this day she couldn’t explain exactly how it had happened.  One minute she and Mark had been arguing about college football over the groom’s cake, and the next they’d been making out like teenagers on prom night in the coat closet.  

She flushed at the memory.  It had been hot in that closet that night, and it was hot in this one now.  Callahan always did  throw off a huge amount of heat.

She smelled the ocean and his usual Armani aftershave on his skin, the scent of peppermint on his breath, and the familiar yearning washed through her.  Damn the green-eyed devil.  Devil Callahan–that’s what people called him in his hometown.  When he had confessed that one night in Cozumel after too many margaritas, she had responded that his hometown knew him well.  Mark pushed her buttons like no other man she’d ever met–then and now. 

Feeling herself starting to sway toward him, she yanked back and placed her hand against his chest.  “All right, then.  You talk first.  What brings you to this porn party, Callahan?  Looking to start a new career?”

He waited a beat, then answered, “Start?  Honey, don’t you know about that video of you and me that’s up on YouTube?”

She sucked in a sharp breath before she realized that he had to be jerking her chain.  No video of the two of them existed. She set her teeth and waited.

He sighed.  “Did you notice the woman with Selcer earlier?  The beautiful girl in her early twenties with long dark hair and dressed in pink?”

 “Yes.”  The spurt of jealousy that she felt caught Annabelle by surprise.  She did her best to ignore it.  “Who is she?”

“Sophia Garza.”  His hands settled around Annabelle’s waist.  “She’s our host’s current girlfriend, and she’s the reason I’m here.  She’s from my hometown, kin to some people I care about.  She got in over her head in this business and now she’d like to leave and start over.  Selcer has prevented it.  We’re here to get her out.”

“You and your brothers and anyone else?”

“We don’t need anyone else.”  The familiar arrogance had Annabelle rolling her eyes.  “Hell, I could have done it on my own, but Maddie and Torie–my brothers wives–insisted Luke and Matt tag along.  I think they had plans to redecorate Matt’s lake house and didn’t want him around.”  He reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from her face.  “That’s my Sitrep.  What about you, Belle?  What the hell are you doing with Radovanovic?”

She didn’t like explaining herself, but she knew this man  well enough to realize that doing so would save time in the long run.  “Do you remember Paulo Giambelli?”

“That Italian poliziotto who had the hots for you?”

She ignored the dig.  “I’m working for him.  He’s private now, and he’s been hired by a couple from Florence to find their daughter’s killer.  She disappeared from a Black Sea resort and her body turned up in a Sarajevo brothel three months later.  A month after that, police in Paris discovered a film of her rape and murder during a raid on a warehouse whose owner had ties to the Russian mafia.”

He exhaled a harsh breath and the hand at her waist tightened its grip.  The light in his eyes went agate hard and she could tell he didn’t like her news one little bit.  Half a minute ticked away before he spoke in a tone that was low and slow and deadly.  “So, Rad is making snuff films now?”

The steady beat of Mark’s heart beneath her palm reassured  Annabelle.  During their days as members of the unit, he’d been cool as ice during an operation.  Under these circumstances, she found it comforting to know that hadn’t changed during the past seven years. 

She licked her lips, then said, “It’s no surprise that he’s heavily invested in human trafficking.  Snuff films are a natural diversification for him.  From what I’ve been able to piece together, he’s here to fill a need for technical expertise and to expand distribution.”

“Have you connected him to the dead Italian girl?”

“Not yet, but I expect it’s only a matter of time.  I was able to access his private computer and copy files.  Paulo is working on the decryption now.”

“I’m tempted to take Radovanovic out tonight,” Mark mused.

“Bad idea, Callahan.  We need to bring down the entire operation, not just the leader.  Before you showed up I was close to working my way onto his team.”

He narrowed his gaze for a long five seconds, then spat out,  “How?”

Whoa.  Why the venom?  Annabelle blinked as the answer flashed like lightning.  He thinks I’m sleeping with Rad. 

Anger rolled through her.  She had never whored herself for the job.  Why would he believe her line in that particular sand had changed?  “I’m his bodyguard,” she fired back.

He snorted. 

She wanted to hit him.  “Rad wanted extra security while in Hawaii,” she reluctantly explained, knowing that doing so would speed things up in the long run.  “I opened my own agency in Honolulu a year ago.  A big part of our business is providing private security for visitors to the islands.  When Paulo learned that Rad had scheduled a trip here, he asked for my help.  I contacted Rad and convinced him that my talents could be of use to him while he was in Hawaii.”

“I’ll bet,” Mark muttered.

Annabelle sighed.  Mark hadn’t sniped this way on past operations.  Of course, they hadn’t been on an operation together since the team disbanded and a lot had happened in the intervening years.  Like their wedding.  Maybe marriage changed even more things than she’d realized.  “Rad is paranoid about security.  He liked the idea of having me as the final line of defense.”

“That’s not all he liked.”

“Jealous, Callahan?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Yet, the tightness in his voice sent a little wave of satisfaction rolling through her. “You are too jealous.”

Seconds ticked by, then he confessed, “It pisses me off, Belle.  I don’t like you being around Radovanovic at all.” 

He pulled her against him and nuzzled her neck.  “You smell good.  Jasmine, like the Pikake bushes outside.  Why aren’t you living in that little Kansas hometown of yours selling cupcakes like your sisters?”

Annabelle’s brain switched off as electric shivers raced up and down her skin.  Instinctively, she arched her neck, allowing him better access to kiss and nibble and lick.  Oh, God, she had missed this.  Missed him.  His right hand released her hip and trailed up to cover her breast at the same time his left hand shifted around behind her and pressed her into his prominent erection.  She sucked in a breath as he let out a low groan that ended when he captured her mouth with his. 

Mark.  Ah, my Mark.

Abruptly, he broke off the kiss.  “I need to turn this thing off.”

She emerged slowly from a sensual haze.  “From what I remember, that takes at least two days.”

“Asshole,” he murmured.

That wiped away the rest of the fog.  “Excuse me?”

“Not you.  Matt.  My eavesdropping brother is talking in my ear.”

“Oh.”  The wire.  Her cheeks warmed with a flush of embarrassment.

“Dammit, though, he’s right.  This isn’t the time for distractions.  Why the hell do you always do that?”

“Me!”  She shoved him hard enough to rock him backward and he bumped against the shelf.

“Ow!  Hell, Annabelle, you’re gonna give our position away.”

“I’d like to give you away.  Maybe I will take you to the pool house.  I look exceptionally good in widow’s black.”

He flashed a wide grin, leaned over and kissed her hard.  “We’d better quit wasting time.  Why don’t you–”

“Wait,” she interrupted.  “You need to know something else.  I’m trying to do more here than infiltrate Rad’s organization.  There’s a girl somewhere on this island who will die tonight if I don’t find a way to stop it.”

All sign of amusement wiped from his face.  “Tell me.”

“He’s picked out three men in the industry who he wants to own.  I think he’s setting them up to star in their own snuff film tonight so he can blackmail them tomorrow.”

“How do you know this?”

“I put bits and pieces together.  I could be wrong, but I doubt it.  Mark, I can’t walk away from this.  From her.”

“Of course not.”  He briefly touched her cheek.  “What can I do to help?”

“Other than disappear, I honestly don’t know.  I can’t take you to the pool house because Rad will kill you.  I’ll have to show up, though, and tell him you got away from me.”

“He won’t be happy about that.”

“No.  He’s liable to fire me, and I’ll lose my chance to find out where he is planning to film.  Great.  Just great.”  She scowled up at him.  “Thanks for screwing this up, Callahan.”

“Look, maybe it’s best to forget about the entire organization in this instance,” Mark suggested.  “Boris Radovanovic needs to be dead.  I will go to the pool house, only I’ll be the one doing the killing.”

She shook her head.  “You won’t get near him.  He has a small army with him.  Between his men and Selcer’s, I’m amazed you made it into the house at all.”

“I’m good.”

Yes, that he was.  Except for the one major way that had torn them apart, Mark Callahan was good at just about everything.

“Then be good some more and come up with a plan that keeps the good guys alive and breathing.”

Mark took hold of her hand and absently stroked his thumb across her knuckles.  “How much does Selcer know about this meeting between Rad and his patsies?”

“Very little.  Rad plays this all very close to his chest.  I wouldn’t have put the clues together if not for the information Paulo provided going into it.”

“Any chance the girl is stashed on this estate?”

She gave it a moment’s serious consideration, then shook her head.  “No, I honestly don’t think so.  Rad couldn’t set it up without Selcer’s security people knowing something about it.  All that concerns them is the party.  Their instructions call for them to clear the estate at two a.m. which is business as usual.”  She tried to pull her hand away, but he held her tight, his brow knitted in thought.  “All right.  Here’s the plan.  Matt, you listening?  I’ll valiantly escape from Annabelle, then duck back inside and grab Sophia.  I’ll get her out on my own.  In the meantime, I’m giving the wire to my wife.  Y’all are now her assets to control.”  To Annabelle, he added, “Does that work for you?”

Annabelle concluded that he had made a good choice.  She would be glad to have the extra backup.  “Yes.”

 Mark yanked at the studs on his shirt and frowned at something his brother must have said.  “That blows.  All right, you stay in position.”  To Annabelle, he said, “The fireworks made the gate guards nervous.  They’ve added more bodies.  Matt thinks it’s best I hand Sophia over to him, but Luke is free as of now.”  He detailed his twin’s location, then added, “He’ll be happy to explode something if that’ll help.”

 “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said to Mark.  Addressing his brother, she added, “Here’s a number to call to coordinate with my team.  Tell the man who answers the word is pistachio.”  She recited the phone number as she unfastened the buttons around her neck, then tugged the side zipper of her dress.  The red silk spilled to her waist and she heard Mark suck in a breath.  Her nipples went hard–she didn’t wear a bra.

“Damn, Belle,” Mark breathed.

“Give me the wire, Callahan.”

His clothing rustled.  “You’ll need to get it.  Be careful with the tape–we need it to stick to your skin, too.”

Mindful of the minutes ticking by, Annabelle attempted to be all business as she slipped her hands into the gap of his shirtfront and snaked them around his torso, but she couldn’t help but note the heat of his skin and the firm rip of muscle beneath it.  His scent surrounded her and she wanted to fold against him, to press her bare breasts against his naked chest, to rub herself against him like a kitten and purr. 

Good Lord.  She blinked in shock at the direction of her thoughts.  She had believed she was over this.  Over him.  “What’s wrong with me?” she muttered beneath her breath.

“Don’t ask me,” he replied, his tone knowing.  “Same affliction has a hold on me.  It’s all I can do to keep my hands off of you.”

“Maybe once this is over, we should see a doctor.”  She grabbed hold of the small transmitter and tugged it from inside his shirt, pulling the tape away with it. 

“A sex therapist?”

She handed him the transmitter.  “I don’t think couples with our particular problem qualify for their expertise.”

Always an observant one, Mark positioned the device in the one spot at her waist just above her right hip where the drape of her dress would conceal its presence.  But when he went to withdraw his hand, he took a northward, leisurely route.  His thumb flicked her nipple, and Annabelle’s nerves zinged straight to her core.  She sensed the dampness gather between her legs.  “Dammit, Callahan!”

“Sorry.”  He dragged her dress bodice up.  “I lost my self-control.”

“Well you’d better find it.”  She zipped, buttoned and glared, as angry with herself as she was frustrated with him.  “We need to go now.”

Mark nodded and slipped the miniature earbud from his ear and fitted it into hers.  “Matt, I’m handing her over.  Annabelle, meet my brother Matt.”

Rather than the hello she expected, Annabelle heard him say, “Annabelle, abort this mission.  I’ll pay you one hundred thousand dollars.  Hell, I’ll pay you a million dollars.  Short of killing him, do whatever you need to do, use any weapon at your disposal, but don’t let my brother out of that closet.”