Ghostwalker 08 - Street Game

I take it Javier gave you his name.”
    His smile was almost worth it. He looked at her as if she was amazing even as he nodded his head. “Javier found a reference to him on the computer you let him use.
    How did you find him?” His hand moved, made little circles just above her knee.

    Jaimie wasn’t certain he even realized how much he disturbed her with his touch, how her body responded even though they were talking about something so important. She took a deep breath to steady herself. “His name kept coming up. There was an obscure newspaper article I read. It should have been on the front page, but ended up buried. I knew the reporter had stumbled onto something big. Bartlett’s name is on several small shell companies. Each owns a private jet and seems legitimate. In fact, the companies file taxes and never turn much of a profit, everything very under the radar.”
    “What kind of companies?” His hand moved up her thigh, those lazy circles getting wider. Closer. More compelling.
    Jaimie could have stopped him. All she had to do was put her hand over his. He seemed to be just smoothing the pads of his fingers over her inner thigh absently. Her womb spasmed and she felt her panties go damp. She ached for him.
    “Jaimie,” he prompted gently.
    She forced her mind onto briefing him. “Quite a few of the companies are to do with foreign investments, but what I found the most interesting is the research facilities. Bartlett has ties to Donovan Corporation, built just outside of this city.
    Whitney is the majority stockholder in that company. Bartlett’s name appears on a company in Oregon as well as several tracts of land in Wyoming, Colorado, California, and Nevada. The land in Wyoming is supposedly used as a secret military training facility, as are all of the rest of them. We know the facility in Wyoming was really a research lab for Whitney’s experiments, specifically his breeding program, because Kane was stationed there.”
    Mack’s hand moved to the hem of her top and pushed at it. His fingers brushed against bare skin right at her waist. “Bartlett is the name tying all of these places together?”
    Butterflies flooded her stomach. She swallowed hard but continued. If he could breathe normally, then so could she. “I believe that there are more secret places supposedly used for military training, but Whitney remains hidden and this fictitious Bartlett is helping him.”
    “You’re talking about the CIA.” His voice was soft. Sexy. He leaned into her just a little, bunching her shirt in his fist, raising the material inch by slow inch. He was looking at her body, not at her.
    She was having difficulty breathing no matter how hard she tried to stay cool.

    221

    “Bartlett’s got to be their money man, Mack. And he doesn’t exist anywhere.”
    “But you know who he is.” He made it a statement as he bent forward until she could feel his warm breath against her belly.
    Jaimie closed her eyes. “You won’t believe me if I tell you.”
    “Why wouldn’t I?”
    Had his voice shaken? She didn’t know. His lips were against her skin as he spoke. She could feel them, velvet soft, moving over her tummy. He moved into her, forcing her body back to give him more room.
    “Because he was arrested and charged with murder and espionage and convicted.
    He was serving out his sentence in a military prison. According to his records, he attempted suicide by hanging himself and lost brain function. At that time he was transferred to a hospital for the insane and is currently residing there.” She dared to touch him. To put her hands in his hair, that thick mass of short hair that felt so good moving over her skin.
    “He does all this from the hospital with no brain function?” His tongue moved in her belly button. His fist yanked her shirt up over her breasts. He frowned at her.
    “Why the hell do you always wear a bra?”
    “I’m modest.”
    “Take it off.” He stood there, wedged between her thighs, angling her body back over the desktop, his fist holding her cami up. “Take it off for me, Jaimie.”
    Her fingers trembled. She glanced at the stairway, but she unhooked the front clasp and let the cups part in the middle, spilling her breasts out into the open air.
    There was relief as the cool air touched her skin. “I thought I was briefing you.”
    “You are. You were telling me about your suspect losing brain function and still running things from a mental hospital.”
    She took a