Fish & Chips
Page 23

Even as Zane watched him, Ty pushed at the band of his pajama bottoms, kicking out of them so he could change. “I deserve another medal for dealing with you,” he told Zane grudgingly as he tossed the pants away, unaware of Zane"s intense scrutiny.
Zane sighed and silently acknowledged that Ty was right.
Clambering out of the bed, Zane ducked into the bathroom and emerged five minutes later cleaned up and in a pair of loose silk sleeping pants. “Any idea what"s next?” he asked.
Ty had changed into a pair of stylishly distressed jeans with holes at the knees of the worn, soft denim. He hadn"t bothered to put on a shirt. With nothing but Del Porter"s wardrobe at his disposal, Ty had taken to wearing as little as possible. Zane had to admit he selfishly enjoyed it. Ty waved the Sudoku book he"d been looking at earlier. “I found some disturbing things last night,” he told Zane. “We have a whole shitload of problems. Del Porter? Ain"t as stupid as he looks.”
“I didn"t talk to him, but it didn"t seem like that would take too much,” Zane commented as he stopped next to him.
“These puzzle books are full of codes,” Ty told him. “I haven"t cracked them yet. I found an iPod full of recordings I"m pretty sure he took by using these,” he went on, pointing to a pair of cuff links and broken reading glasses. “I"m not sure why or for who, but the Italian authorities have a stake in this too. All I know for sure is the FBI has put their boot up somebody else"s ass on this one, and we"re fucked, because no matter how much I want to, I still don"t speak Italian.”
Zane stared at Ty as he took it all in. This was what Ty had tried to tell him last night. Zane rubbed one hand over his face. “We"re stuck in someone else"s sting,” he muttered. “Shit. This assignment has been totally fucked up from the beginning.”
“Exactly,” Ty muttered. He tossed the books down and threw himself onto the sofa gracelessly. The tired bent to his shoulders was more obvious, and it seemed like maybe he"d been up a lot longer than Zane had suspected. It was possible he"d never gone to sleep.
“So now what?” Zane asked. “You look like you need a nap, but I think we might want to find our team, have them look into the manifest for passports originating from Italy, and call back home to see if McCoy has any clue about this fun little twist.”
“I have searched for the team,” Ty said with a low, precise growl.
“They"re apparently Olympic-level stealthy, because I couldn"t find any trace of any of them.”
Zane frowned. “Something"s not right about that. They"re supposed to be close enough for us to call for backup. Calling out their names over the bullhorn isn"t exactly subtle.”
“If they were anywhere near us, they"d have called out the cavalry last night when Dolce and Gabbana were feeding me a gun barrel,” Ty muttered as he examined his fingernails critically.
“Did they really do that?” Zane asked carefully.
Ty looked up at him as if he hadn"t expected him to have heard and then waved him off with his typical easy attitude. It was frustrating at times, knowing how much trauma Ty could hide behind a smile or a joke. “Dolce and Gabbana took the iPod full of recordings,” he told Zane, as if he were somehow up to speed. “But this morning I figured out Del was taking notes with these,” he added as he pointed at the array of Sudoku and crossword puzzle books. “I understood some of what they said to me last night before they started with the English,” he told Zane. “Pretty sure one of them called me a queer,” he added with a wry smile.
“How perceptive of them, Del,” Zane said drolly as he reached for one of the books. “What about the Sudoku?”
“Whatever method he was using, I don"t follow,” Ty admitted as he showed the pages to Zane. “I can"t even decide if I think he"s brilliant for having a coded backup or stupid for writing shit down,” he muttered. He was silent for a moment. “They said it with malice,” he finally added, obviously unable to let go of it.
Zane looked up from the squares full of letters to study his partner intently. “I told you you"re a damn good actor.”
Ty returned his look seriously, his gaze unwavering. “I"m not really acting much anymore, Zane.”
Zane swallowed on the nervous flutter that stirred to life in his chest. He sensed there was more to this than just the words. “And you don"t like it,” he said neutrally, not wanting to influence Ty one way or the other.
Ty held his eyes, appearing to hold his breath too as he considered his answer. “I don"t like the way some people look at me,”
he admitted with difficulty. “But fuck them,” he added with certainty.
“I"m the one I look at in the mirror at night.”
Zane huffed quietly and moved to stand behind Ty, sliding his arms around his waist to gather him close, hoping desperately that Ty didn"t push him away. “I don"t like the way some people look at you either,” he murmured against the side of Ty"s neck.
Ty turned his head, his cheek pressing against Zane"s nose. “I don"t think we"re talking about the same people,” he said wryly. His voice grew more serious. “The ones who look at us like we offend them. Those are the ones I"d like to deck.”
“I understand,” Zane said. The “us” in that sounded pretty damn good, and though Zane could smell a possible discussion there, he"d had enough of serious life topics for the month, much less the day.
“Ignore them. They don"t know what they"re missing out on.” Ty burst out laughing, then clapped his hand over his mouth to stop himself.
Zane chuckled and nipped at Ty"s neck before he said, “So they pass on ogling the best-looking ass on the ship. My gain.”
Ty snorted, though it was obvious he was trying not to smile. His hand came to rest on Zane"s forearm, and he leaned his head back against Zane"s shoulder. “Now I think you"re just trying to get laid.”
“I do watch you, you know,” Zane murmured, sliding one hand up and down on Ty"s chest and belly. “Did long before this case.”
Ty jerked his head to the side and turned in place, giving Zane"s chest a half-hearted shove. “You"re not getting out of trouble this easily. We have work to do.”
Zane started to smile and tightened his arms. “One kiss,” he bargained. He wanted to keep Ty"s mind off what others thought of him and on what Zane thought of him.
Ty shook his head, but his arms tightened around Zane"s waist as Zane pulled him closer, and Ty was smiling. “Make it a good one,” he challenged playfully.
Oh, Zane was more than up for the challenge. He raised one hand to grip the back of Ty"s skull and claimed his mouth in a torrid rush, literally plundering Ty in a bruising kiss. It went on and on as he expressed the possessiveness and desperation he felt, but then he slowed, appreciating Ty"s kiss like he hadn"t in a long time, and he smoothed and gentled the movement of his lips as he cajoled Ty"s tongue into play. Every touch he got back turned him on more, but since he was getting only one kiss, he wanted to make the most of it.
Zane didn"t let go as he drew it out, tracing Ty"s lips with his tongue and tenderly lapping at Ty"s swollen bottom lip before finally surrendering it and pulling back.
When he did, Ty groaned softly and took Zane"s face in both hands to keep him from moving away.
“Damn you,” he muttered in defeat, pulling Zane closer to kiss him again.
TY SAT on one of the many lounge chairs set up along the wide deck, looking out over the choppy water. He held his sunglasses in his hand, the roiling clouds overhead making it too dark to need them. He"d pulled both feet up into the seat and was resting one elbow on his knee, his eyes on the water but his mind elsewhere.
He probably would have looked like a model waiting for his picture to be taken if it hadn"t been for the garish red Santa hat he was wearing. He actually felt less self-conscious with it on because it hid the platinum blond hair.
Zane had gone off to yet another poker game after an early dinner. He had seriously balked at the idea at first, fearing another bottle of Scotch, but when Bianchi had called, there had been hints that business might be conducted at this one. Ty had wanted to accompany him, but again, it was too risky. Plus, Zane needed to know Ty trusted him. Ty wasn"t actually sure that he did—at least when it came to the drinking—but now was as good a time as any to find out.
So with Zane gone, he"d come out here to clear his mind and hide from Norina Bianchi, who seemed determined to force him to have another massage. He"d been out here for about half an hour, staring off into nowhere and enjoying simply being there for once.
Everyone else had cleared off the deck soon after his arrival, scrambling inside with their arms full of beach towels and books, expecting the quickly approaching dark clouds to bring rain with them.
Ty knew better, though. He"d seen enough on the water to know when a storm was coming. A storm was definitely coming, but it wasn"t coming with these clouds.
He sat motionless, enjoying the utter silence of the approaching front and the cool breeze on his salty skin. The ominous clouds reflected off the water, turning the surface silver. It was an otherworldly seascape, one that took Ty to places he hadn"t visited in some time. He was so lost in thought that he didn"t hear anyone approaching.
“Do you not suppose you should get inside?” a voice asked from behind him.
Ty"s expression didn"t change even though the sudden appearance of the man had startled him. He merely tilted his head from one side to the other, watching Vartan Armen move in his peripheral vision.
“It"s not going to rain,” Ty answered slowly, the British accent coming out satisfactorily. He still needed to work on it. And he needed to know why in the fuck Armen was out here when he was supposed to be playing poker inside.
Armen remained silent, and he sat in the chair next to Ty, seemingly content to watch the ocean roll just as Ty was. The clouds passing overhead were moving fast, the reflected light turning the water a deep sea-green now. When Armen did finally speak, his voice was low and serious. “You"ve taken to your role quite astonishingly well.”
Ty felt his body go cold, but again he didn"t react outwardly, continuing to stare at the green water without comment. If Armen had found them out as frauds, this was a surprisingly civil way of announcing it.
“I hired you to spy on the man, not fall in love with him,” Armen said calmly, though his clipped tones betrayed his annoyance.
Ty turned his head to look at him, forcing himself to skillfully conceal his shock with a blank expression. Armen met his eyes and raised one eyebrow as if expecting Ty to say something. Ty stared at him without any intention of speaking. Anything he said right now would give him away as an imposter.
“Well?” Armen asked expectantly. “Are you merely more capable than I ever supposed, or will it truly be a problem if you"re forced to harm him?”
“It won"t be a problem,” Ty answered immediately.
“Good,” Armen said with a pleased sneer that made Ty feel greasy as he looked at it. Armen looked him over critically. “When you told me you"d have to change your appearance I admit I wasn"t expecting this,” he said with a gesture at Ty"s face. “I quite approve.”
Ty merely nodded, his mind racing as he looked back at the water again. He found it was slightly more difficult to catch his breath than it had been five minutes ago.
“I have the flash drive you left for me at the hotel. I assume you received your payment promptly? Good. I want the other drive before the cruise is over. The money will be wired to your account as before.”
Ty swallowed hard and decided to take a chance on digging for a little more information. “And the Italians?”
“They are none of your concern,” Armen said sharply. “Your job is Corbin Porter. Let those blasted, feeble Guardia agents handle the Bianchis.”
Ty nodded obediently, his jaw clenching.
“If he catches wind of your plotting, I assume you will take care of things,” Armen ordered abruptly as he stood. “Good day, Mr.
Porter.”
And then he was gone, strolling off down the length of the deck as the wind kicked up and plucked at his tie.
Ty licked his lips, tasting salt as he ruminated over this new development. He waited calmly until Armen was out of sight, and then he pushed out of his chair and sprinted for the doors.
ZANE had just tossed a couple $1,000 chips into the pot to call and leaned back in his chair when he saw a familiar face appear at the door to the private lounge where the serious poker players congregated. A glance at his watch confirmed that he"d not even been at the table for thirty minutes, and Zane was starting to wonder if he"d be able to leave Ty alone at all without something disastrous happening.
Ty hesitated at the door, looking around the room as if searching for someone else before he took a single step into the room. Zane frowned slightly but kept his eye on Ty while also watching the cards dealt out in the hand of five card stud on the table. Ty didn"t move closer, though. He merely stayed at the entrance and watched. After thirty seconds dragged by, Zane threw in his cards, picked up his half-empty glass, and excused himself, nodding to the dealer who said he"d hold back Zane"s chips for the time being. Within another few breaths, Zane joined Ty at the door just as another couple passed by.
“Miss me, doll?” Zane asked casually, staying in character.
“I definitely missed something,” Ty murmured as his eyes searched the room again furtively. “We need to get to a computer.