He glanced over her shoulder. “I see my associate. Please excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
Mariska didn’t want to spy, but she couldn’t help watching as he prowled across the bar. There was something about the way his body moved like a big cat stalking prey. At the entryway he spoke with a white-haired Asian gentleman wearing a panama hat and holding a file folder. Mr. Thomas handed the man some bills, and the older gentleman gave him the folder.
The bartender delivered the drink and she paid for it. As Thomas approached her again, he read through the file. Sitting down without glancing up from the paperwork.
That must be some interesting reading. “Your drink is here.” She pointed to the glass when he sat down.
“Thanks,” he said, without looking up from the file. “My associate brought me some news about our Mr. Gladstone.” He frowned as he glanced up at her. “It’s as I suspected. Mr. Gladstone asked the bellman to recommend a good place for a sauna and massage.”
“Is that such a bad thing? After an eighteen-hour flight it sounds like a great idea to me.” As soon as she said the words she regretted them. “Oh, a massage.”
“Exactly.” Mr. Thomas’s right eyebrow rose.
Embarrassed didn’t begin to describe how she felt. She really did need to pay better attention. The last thing she wanted was to make a fool of herself in front of this guy. “Sorry, I’m a little slow today. Couldn’t sleep on the plane. So, do we have a location?”
“The bellman gave him several options, but had no idea which one Mr. Gladstone chose.”
Mar pursed her lips. “Hmm. Well, I guess I’d better check them all. At least I have a lead now. I should get started.”
He looked at her as if she had jumped off the crazy train. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go off on your own.”
“Do you have a problem with that?” She’d run across her share of chauvinistic males. It happened a lot in the investigative business, but she was disappointed that Mr. Thomas didn’t think she could do the job. His hunk factor went down at least a third. She didn’t care how big his muscles were, or that her fingers had an urge to run through his hair.
He held up his hands in surrender. “No, not at all. I know for a fact women are as capable as men, many times more so. I also know your mostly female agency has a highly successful closed-case ratio.” At her surprised look he explained. “I do my homework, Ms. Stonegate. I had to make sure you were a legitimate organization before agreeing to help with your case.
“What I meant was that you shouldn’t go to these places alone. I’m sure you can handle yourself, but as I mentioned before, it’s best to have a companion while traveling in Bangkok if at all possible. I’ll escort you, no additional fee required.”
Mariska was once again embarrassed for jumping to a conclusion. “That’s generous of you, but I’d feel more comfortable compensating you for your time.” She sounded so calm and professional. Inside she was jumping up and down like a teenager who’d met her favorite heartthrob.
It’s going to be such a drag having to spend a few more hours with the hottest guy I’ve met in a really long time.
She almost laughed out loud. When this case was over she did need a good long break. And sex. She needed a lot of sex. Maybe then she wouldn’t want to jump the first cute guy to come along.
He checked his watch. “It will be a few more hours before the bars and massage parlors open. Is there something you’d like to do until then?”
Mariska’s mind went straight to a naughty place and she had to make herself not glance down at his groin.
She leaned toward him. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I’d like to go to bed.”
2
JACKSON COULDN’T believe his luck. Mariska Stonegate landing in his lap was a gift. That they’d both ended up in the same hotel bar looking for information was nothing short of divine intervention. He’d have to thank the universe the first chance he had. Of course right then he had to concentrate on keeping his pants from tenting.
He knew what she meant by the “bed” comment. She’d arrived in Thailand after an eighteen-hour flight, but parts of his body weren’t as understanding as his brain. Shifting in his seat, he imagined a nice cold shower.
It wasn’t easy, since Mariska Stonegate was beyond enticing. Long legs poked out of a flowered skirt, and he’d even noticed her dark red toenails. Curves in all the right places and her eyes—he’d never seen a shade of green so light they were almost translucent. Her curly hair had been pulled back in a haphazard ponytail, giving her the look of a college coed on summer break.
Jackson knew better. She was intelligent and obviously damn good at what she did. Even in his business he was aware of SIA. They worked in every part of the world. Then there was the fact that her mother, Janice Stonegate, was a legendary operative. That last name had been his first clue that Mariska was someone who could help. He wondered if she even knew her mother had ever been in the CIA, before quitting to open up her own security and investigative firm.
People in his business knew about Janice, because she was one of the few international operatives to transition into civilian life successfully. She’d been killed in a plane crash last year, and many wondered if, after thirty years away, her past had finally caught up with her.
Jackson couldn’t believe his luck in running into her daughter. When he’d walked into the bar he’d been looking for an ally. Dawson, his handler, said he was sending a friend. Dawson had a history of using women to convey messages, and she was the only one there. When he heard her last name, he knew he’d hit the mark.
She might not even know that she was the “friend,” but she would have resources, something Jackson was seriously low on at the moment.
She seemed like a genuinely nice woman. It was unfortunate he had to pull her into his plan, but he had no choice. If it made Jackson a lying bastard, so be it.
For once, luck certainly seemed to be on his side. When he discovered Mr. Thomas was a private investigator, Jackson had slipped right into the role. Mariska was an asset in his world, and he needed her more than she could ever imagine. The fact that the image of those gorgeous eyes and generous lips would now be burned into his brain complicated things, but he had to stay on task.
When the real Mr. Thomas had walked into the bar, Jackson knew exactly who he was. The wary eyes that searched the room made him easy to pick out. He had the look of a man who had seen too much. Jackson sometimes saw the same thing when he glanced at a mirror.
The old man had fallen for the “assistant act,” when Jackson told the private investigator that he worked for Ms. Stonegate. It was amazing how a few hundred dollars could make someone accept even the flimsiest of explanations. Mr. Thomas hadn’t batted an eye. He’d handed over the documents, which had helped bring Jackson up to speed on the case.
The papers he held gave Jackson an easy in. The break he needed to become a part of Mariska’s world. He’d help her find Mr. Gladstone. It was the least he could do. Then he’d use Mariska and her resources for his own agenda.
He coughed to cover the long pause and then gave her his most seductive grin. “If you’re asking me up to your room for a bit of physical exertion—”
She laughed, her hands flitting about nervously. For an experienced P.I., she seemed so flustered around him. He appreciated the fact that she wasn’t jaded like most of the people in her business.
“I so did not mean that the way it came out,” she said. “I meant, I need a nap, which is more than obvious.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure what it is about you that ties up my tongue.”
He