Dare Me (Take Me 2)

Meanwhile, Nikki set aside her fork and knife and simmered in the seat next to him. For all of five seconds. Until she collected herself, got her bearings.

Then she asked, “What on earth would make you think I’d have anything to do with gas leaks—or missing information?”

“You were the last one in my room with Garcia, before I was wheeled off for a CT scan.”

“And never returned,” she huffed.

“My team extracted me. The medical professionals who’d cared for me at that private hospital were all part of the network. But when I was stable enough to be relocated, I was placed in a more aggressive state of recovery.”

“What the hell does that mean? They gave you a bionic brain? Because if that’s the case…it’s an epic fail.”

He laughed. “You’re amusing. But, no… I recouped quickly and now I’m on the hunt for a dongle that’s gone missing.”

She blinked. “A what?”

“A data device. This one happens to contain highly confidential and strategic intelligence. I need it back, Ms. Kane.”

She gaped.

He continued. “Your original rendezvous point with your contact was the Maldives, correct?”

Her jaw snapped shut. She was silent for a few seconds. Then demanded, “Are you for real?” She glanced around…as though she were expecting to find cameras that proved she was being punked.

The flight attendant made her rounds to collect empty meal trays and Nikki instantly handed hers over, despite not having touched any of the food.

When they were alone again, she said, “Do you know who I am? I’m a psychiatrist who works with search and rescue teams during and after natural and environmental disasters. That’s why I was in the hospital in Mexico City—in your room. I was taking care of patients who were suffering post-traumatic stress. I was counseling the kids whose parents were under the care of the hospital, or who were orphaned. I was reading to patients in medically induced comas,” she more pointedly said as she speared him with an even harsher look. “I’m not anything more than that,” she asserted.

He would beg to differ. She was fiery and passionate and so damn fuckable it was a wonder he could engage in a line of questioning, because his thoughts were running in all different directions that had absolutely nothing to do with his current investigation.

But he had some damning evidence under his proverbial hat that proved Nikki had the device he wanted. So he stayed the course, telling her, “The official statement issued said the culprit of the explosions acted alone. That’s actually not true. He has a small network in New York City. That’s where I first began tracking him. Then he traveled to Mexico City and I pinpointed him there. He was living in the first building that erupted. I had infiltrated the community, by offering estate-planning services to the elderly, because he was caring for some of them to make extra money or to eventually steal from them, I don’t know. There was nothing incriminating for me to nail down… Until the night of the explosions.”

“That’s why you were onsite?” she asked. “You knew he was plotting to blow up the block on that particular night?”

“We weren’t aware of all the details. And I didn’t have anything concrete to go on. It was more of a hunch.”

“And now you fucking have a hunch about me stealing defense intel?” she shot back.

Damen nodded. “Well, I was right about the explosions, wasn’t I?”

“Oh, you’re an asshole.” A heartbeat later, she was on her phone, emailing feverishly.

Damen permitted her to do so. He knew exactly who she’d be contacting: Jude McMillan. Her lawyer.

Polishing off his meal, Damen used the wet-naps provided to freshen up and then sipped his drink.

Nikki finally said, “I don’t have to answer any of your questions, without my attorney present.”

“I never said I was formally questioning you.”

“But you do believe I have some sort of involvement in a terrorist attack and an agent gone rogue.”

She didn’t bother to pose that as a query. As though she knew he wa

s not the type of man to make arbitrary accusations. Especially of this magnitude.

He asked once more, “Why’d you research the Maldives?”

“My mother is staying there for Christmas, genius,” she quietly ground out.