"I've been warning both of you," Zach snapped as he glared at her father and her lover. "But have either of you bothered to listen at any time?"
"And all of you seem to be forgetting exactly what her career is." Her father, Joe, surprised her as he snapped at all of them. "She's a trained agent, and you were all warned that she wouldn't sit back lightly once she became suspicious. For God's sake, Zach, you helped train her. You should have known she would slip in here."
That was her thought exactly.
She stared back at Zach, not really surprised at his anger. He hadn't wanted her to join the Bureau to begin with, and she was aware that it was his influence that had kept her from the assignments she had sought. "How did you convince Abdul to allow you out of the limo?" Khalid pushed his fingers through his hair before propping them on his hips.
"He's sleeping." She shrugged, covering for her friend. "I promised him I'd stay put."
"And he knows better than to believe you," Khalid barked.
"And you knew better than to think the four of you can slip in here for one of your little covert meetings. And since when does the FBI work so closely with spooks?" she shot back, keeping her voice low rather than yelling as she shot Shayne a hard look. "Give me a break here, Khalid. You and my fathers have been conspiring against me from the beginning. And you." She turned on Shayne. "You have to be sick. I've been following you for days and you didn't spot me once. Where's your head? Up your ass?"
The small grin that curled his lips assured her that he wouldn't forget that remark. Not that she gave a damn. He could have gotten his head blown off if she had been the enemy.
"Touche," Shayne murmured. "Though, I do recall that you excelled in subversive maneuvers during your training."
"I'm sure there are terrorists out there who excel in it as well," she informed him. "You haven't been watching your back. I could have kicked you more than once, and you never knew."
"Protecting her has suddenly become work here," Khalid told her fathers, the anger thick in his voice now. "And I am growing tired of this constant tug-of-war between my lover and the men who like to pretend to be my bosses."
"I don't need your protection." Her chin lifted as she faced them all, not in anger now, but in confidence. She knew her training and her limitations, she knew her job, and if there was a single one of them who thought they could change that, then it was time they learned better.
"And if we hadn't been there to get Mohammed's gun out of your face?" Khalid raked his fingers through his hair again as his black eyes glowed with anger. "What then, Marty? What the hell would you have done then?"
"We'll never know, will we? But, he was only seconds from losing his balls when he had that gun in my neck," she answered, careful to keep her voice cool. "Which raises the question, does Ian Sinclair know he has a rabid mountain roaming the halls pretending to be a man? Or is our fair Mohammed a member here, too?" She stared back at the men glaring forcefully at her. "Last I heard there was some kind of rule against members striking women. Or is that just women who are sneaking in the doors?" She rubbed her jaw. "Can we get him thrown out for backhanding me, do you think?"
She couldn't have expected what happened next. The second the words seemed to connect in Khalid's brain that Mohammed had struck her, his fist flew and landed in his brother's face. A second later his fingers were gripping the other man's neck as he threw Abram into the wall. Pure rage bled from his pores as an animalistic growl seemed to tear from his throat.
"I will kill him," he snarled in Abram's shocked face.
And Marty had had enough. It was like dealing with a bunch of high school jocks. None of them had the good sense to actually face her with the truth, all they could do was hit each other, beat around the bush, and try to pretend they weren't attempting to hide things from her.
It pissed her off. No one actually lied to her, but they sure as hell did their best to make certain she stayed in the dark whenever possible.
As the other men rushed to pull Khalid back her teeth snapped together as she turned and left the room. Slamming the door closed behind her she was met by an entire security force rushing up the stairs, headed by the formidable and much too handsome Ian Sinclair.
He came to a dead stop and stared at her in shock, as if the sight of a woman in the testosterone-laden halls of his club was too much to take in, which was far beyond the truth. His wife, Courtney, actually managed to sneak in often when she had lived in what had once been Ian's private wing of the house.
"Don't worry, I'm leaving," she informed him coldly. "If I were you, though, I'd get some cameras in these halls and the shrubbery trimmed from that back doorway. Getting in here was as easy as taking candy from a baby while it sleeps." She brushed past him before taking the stairs quickly, aware of all the eyes turning, watching her.
Below were more men. All security. The doors were closed securely to the rooms downstairs, but a few of the members watched curiously from their positions leaning against the walls.
There was Cole Andrews, Tally Conover's husband, Lucian, her rumored cohusband Devril, and several others of the social elite, who seemed unconcerned by the fact that she had seen them. Men she had danced with at balls, whose wives she had gone to school with or sometimes lunched with.
It wasn't surprising. She had known this crowd stuck together, but this should have been ridiculous.
"Sorry to intrude." She flashed them all a tight, falsely sweet smile. "See you at the next party."
With that she strode down the hall and out the double doors that a scowling doorman was holding open.
She had no intentions of returning to the limo. She would have walked home first, but, thankfully, a black Lexus that drew to a stop in the driveway was very familiar to her.
Former FBI agent Mac McCoy. That really shouldn't have surprised her, though it did. Mac was married and supposedly living on some farm several states away.
He stepped out of the vehicle, his gray eyes meeting hers as the breeze played with his thick black hair.
"Marty?" Incredulity filled his voice, affirming her sudden suspicion that he knew exactly what this club was all about. Of course he did; he was here, and that meant he had to be a member.