Linda Conrad

Secret Agent Sheikh


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background. He did not indulge in sentimental bodily contact in public. No pawing or slobbery kisses for him. She almost reminded Tarik of that, but decided to keep her mouth shut for now.

      Zohdi never let his gaze stray from the love of his life for long. And he never let her talk to another man without putting himself close enough to feel her pulse beat.

      Jass thought that last part might’ve been romantic if the two people in question weren’t such a dangerous duo. And if her undercover partner on this romantic assignment wasn’t Tarik Kadir.

      The Rio airport terminal was a madhouse. Crowds descended from every corner and surrounded them as they walked. Jass felt the tension building in her every cell. While she was undercover, she never cared for crowds. An assassin could easily attack from any direction and she wouldn’t recognize the threat until it was too late.

      When they finally reached the baggage carousel, they found the crowds impenetrable around it. This much congestion in the Rio airport on a Thursday evening seemed strange—and she wondered if it could potentially signal a glitch in their mission.

      The two of them stood motionless at the edge of the crowd for a moment as they silently pondered their best plan of attack for reaching the luggage.

      “Ms. Kocak. Sheik Zohdi.” Suddenly a man who seemed to be a native Brazilian spoke to them with a heavy accent. He’d appeared out of nowhere right beside them. “I am your driver. Your luggage is being sent ahead. Please follow me.”

      Jass raised her shoulders along with her gut instincts. Ed had told her they would be contacted by someone from the CIA station chief’s office with further instructions. But she hadn’t expected anyone this soon.

      She glanced at Tarik, who also seemed to be on alert, but then he gave her a cockeyed grin and inclined his head. “After you, love. I am yours to command.”

      He was silently signaling that he was leaving the choice to follow this man up to her. Her whole body trembled with pride and an odd sensual awareness as she forced herself to turn and make her way through the throngs behind the stranger.

      That grin of Tarik’s might end up becoming her undoing before their assignment was over. The man was impossibly handsome all dressed up as a modern sheik in his Versace suit, white linen boat-necked shirt and head scarf. Jass shook off the sensual pull she’d felt and worked her mind back to the persona of Celile.

      She had to remember that Ed said not to trust Tarik despite his glib manner and sincere looks.

      They reached the curb in front of the airport and found a sleek black sedan waiting. Their driver paid two thugs who were obviously carrying concealed weapons and, with a few words in Portuguese, sent them on their way. Then he ushered her and Tarik into the backseat.

      As they pulled into the stop-and-go traffic, she asked the driver, “What’s going on here? Why all the people and congestion?”

      Suddenly their driver didn’t have even a slight accent. “You’re kidding, right? Tomorrow is the start of Carnivale. The tourists are pouring into the city. Expect the crowds to get a lot worse over the next four days.”

      “Smart.” Tarik relaxed back into his seat and propped an ankle over his knee. “The Russian picked the best time of year to hold this little auction. His buyers will be tough for us to pick out from the rest of the tourists.”

      She turned to see Tarik in the dim light filtering in through the car’s windows. “Have you ever been to Rio’s Carnivale before?”

      “Several times. You’re going to love it. All sensual music, body heat and very little clothing.” He chuckled under his breath. “It’s guaranteed to warm up the chilliest woman on earth. Even the ice queen Celile Kocak doesn’t stand a chance during Carnivale.

      Oh hell. The man was doing his damnedest to unnerve her. Well, no matter what Tarik Kadir sent her way, she wouldn’t let him throw her. She would remain in control.

      After all, Jass O’Reilly was a pro.

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