Chapter Two
Venice
an: I don't speak Italian and although I'm sure it would be nice to have some Italian in the background, I'm sure most of you reading this don't speak Italian either so what would be the point of me writing a bunch of stuff that you can't read. If you'd like me to fake it I'm sure I could pull it off. But then with my luck someone reading this will speak Italian and they'll be like what the heck is she trying to say. And I'll be like well I don't know can't you tell. And in short it wouldn't be very pretty. So, just pretend it's in Italian...or not...it's really ok with me.
The room was all decked out. Birthdays must be great when you had enough money to run an entire country. Well that and when you didn't have to lie to every last person you called your friend, didn't have to live a secret life, weren't trying to save the world on a weekly basis. Apparently even someone as crooked as McKain still had his friends.
I tried not to tug at my dress, I wasn't supposed to mind that the slit ran clear up to the top of my thigh.
Why did SD-6 insist on making me wear these things? I didn't have the nerve to call this scrap a dress. Floor length it may have been, but for all it covered it sure showed a lot. Completely backless except for the two straps that crossed over my shoulders, the lack of material went clear to the middle of my stomach on one side. Its powder blue may have been dazzling, but the expanse of skin I was showing was drawing more attention.
McKain's attention was what I wanted however, pushing the slobbering older and younger viewers away, I made my way to the table that housed the twenty-eight year old who was busy himself, slobbering over a group of women willing to do anything to get their hands on his money.
Twenty-eight, evil was getting younger and younger.
His eyes met mine. And more good looking as well. I didn't have to force the smile.
Now if he wasn't busy making money off thousands of small children I could almost like the man. If he wasn't busy funding experiments tested on unwitting third world countries, he might just be worth my time.
McKain pulled himself away from the army of drooling women, and I sensed him follow me as I started away from his table. He was hooked, this would be easier then I thought.
Now I just had to find my CIA contact and all would be good.
A warm hand came down on the naked skin of my waist and I froze.
"Miss?" a familiar voice accompanied the hand. Swallowing, I turned around to face a waiter, my contact. Pasting on a smile I was not feeling, I grabbed the offered champagne from my pompous plant.
His hand was still on my waist. I noticed then that my gloved hand was shaking as I removed the flute from his tray.
The term handler was going to mean a lot more if Vaughn didn't remove his hand.
Although, he was going to be handled himself after this was over. I was going to hand him his ass on a nice silver platter. What the hell was he doing here?
"Sorry." he muttered quickly removing his hand at my icy stare.
"Thank you." I gritted out past my locked jaw. He nodded averting his eyes; I noticed then that they had been locked on me and the areas of skin my dress didn't cover. I tried not to smile. So Vaughn was male after all.
"Hello." a voice curled in my ear, as its accompanied breath danced across my currently flushed skin, and a cold hand found the same place Vaughn's had earlier.
This dress begged touch me apparently. That among other things.
I whipped on a smile as I turned to face my fan. McKain. My smile only grew.
"Hello." I responded shyly. McKain drew me closer to him and I let him run his hand up and down my naked side. Even if he was crooked, it had been too long since someone had touched me.
"Fellow American I see. God bless America." McKain whispered in my ear. I smiled and looked away. With a dress like mine, shy would seem all the more alluring.
McKain grabbed the champagne from my hand and placed it back on Vaughn's tray, dismissing him.
I dared to glance at my handler and found that he seemed tenser then before. Almost as if seeing me in another man's arms hurt. I don't believe that it could though. He's my boss. Our relationship was strictly professional, I thought with a bitterness that surprised me.
Averting my eyes, I turned to gaze at McKain; he wasn't all that bad of a picture to look at.
Vaughn's fingers brushed against the small of my back as he brushed by. I wondered if my attentions to McKain were making him jealous, and I decided that tonight I was going to play my role of interest with extra enthusiasm.
"Care to dance?" McKain asked as he led me to the floor, making it clear that it didn't really matter if I cared to dance at all.
Nodding, I followed, maybe a little too eager for my own good.
McKain was taller then me by about half a foot. His hair was a striking copper shade and his eyes a brilliant emerald. He had the build of a swimmer, tall and lean.
And he knew what he was doing, I realized as he pulled me to him and started tracing patterns on my back, swaying with the music. I less then reluctantly, placed my arms around his neck and returned the favor.
I was not supposed to be enjoying this. This was a mission not some out of country fling.
Damn it. Where was Dixon? He'd think of a good excuse. If I could just locate him in the crowd then it would be easier for me to pull back. Easier for me to remember why I was here.
But Dixon was nowhere in sight and neither was Vaughn. It was only when I didn't find him, that I realized I'd been looking for Vaughn as well.
"Come home with me." McKain whispered slipping the tips of his fingers under the fabric at my waist. McKain worked fast. To my surprise I didn't pull away.
Vaughn. Somebody. Vaughn. Somebody. My mind raced. If somebody didn't end this right now I would be going home with him.
I was supposed to get him to take me upstairs. To get me past his guards and impenetrable security. Disable him, then hack my way into his office, get the vaccine and get out through the back.
Going home with him was not in the equation.
Why did I suddenly want to put it there?
When I didn't answer, he pushed me away slightly. Just enough for him to run his hands up my arms and lock around my neck, cradling my head in his hands he continued.
I shivered at his touch.
"Please." He whispered as his eyes darkened with desire.
Then his lips were on mine.
It was over almost before it began. And then he was looking into my eyes again.
I don't know what possessed me but I pulled him back.
I kissed him. I deepened the kiss. I poured all my repressed passion into that kiss, a full seven years of it. And I hoped that Vaughn was watching. I hoped that he was angry, jealous, hurt, something damn it.
Something besides lost in himself.
Something besides empty.