Chapter Twenty-Two
London, England
One week later
Penelope threaded her hands together as she took her seat in Nigel’s office. “You asked to see me?”
Nigel stared at her across the desk. “Yes, I did. I need to understand what happened in Germany.”
She managed not to wince. She’d been dreading this meeting ever since they’d made it home to London. They were all back at The Garden, recuperating. The McKay-Taggart team had only left a day before. “You read my report.”
Nigel nodded shortly, his hand touching a folder on his desk. “Your report was almost word for word the same as Agent Knight’s.”
“It’s the truth.” Well, the truth as she more or less knew it.
“Miss Cash, are you aware of what was on the thumb drive Jacob Dean handed over to the CIA? We were told that you gave it to him. According to his report, you took the drive off Knight and brought it to him.” Nigel’s eyes narrowed.
This was where things got sketchy. Once everything had gone to hell, Jacob had opted to improvise. The moment he’d seen her, he’d caught her in his arms and told her what they were doing. Damon was coming in with the police at his back. There might not be time to change the drives. She’d looked over his shoulder and several men in suits had been watching them. She’d nodded and pretended to put something in Jake’s hands. He’d turned and introduced her to the bloody director of the CIA, who only cared about one thing—that thumb drive and the information he thought was on it. Unfortunately, she wasn’t sure how much Nigel knew. “Well, I obviously didn’t have time to boot up a computer and check it out. I simply did what I was told.”
No lies there.
“It was the complete works of some American author named Steve Berry. He writes thrillers about a former secret agent who saves the world on a regular basis. There was a note. It basically said this is what happens when the wrong people get the right information.”
She winced a little. They could have been a bit more subtle. “That doesn’t seem right.”
A smile suddenly broke over Nigel’s face. “Oh, I think it seems exactly right.” He laughed and leaned back in his chair. “If anyone asks, I gave you a stern talking to. You’re terrified and properly chastened.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Absolutely, sir.”
He frowned a bit. “My agents aren’t soldiers, Miss Cash. They aren’t simply around to follow orders. Oh, I know the higher-ups would love to believe so, but the people who run the world, well, most of them don’t have to live in it. It’s a sad fact of our lives. Whatever Damon did out there, I’ll back him because it was for the best. There is some knowledge that should never see the light of day, that shouldn’t be trusted to any government no matter how friendly. For now, the story is that Bennett was trying to sell something he didn’t actually have. The records have all been changed and even Agro is going along with it. They don’t want the bad publicity any more than we do. As far as anyone knows, Basil Champion was Walter Bennett and the matter is closed. I identified Bennett’s body myself. The Germans and the Americans both believe Bennett is dead. Mr. Smith and I have decided to keep our mouths shut about anything we know or suspect we know. Do you have any idea where the real Bennett is?”
Somewhere in Australia, last she’d heard. Brody had called in to let them know Bennett was safe and they were both looking for new jobs. Ian Taggart had immediately groaned and said something about more strays.
“I think we don’t have to worry about him anymore. I believe Mr. Taggart has a plan on how to keep him in the fold, so to speak.” She leaned forward. “Is it true that Candice was killed in a car accident?”
The German police reports stated that she’d attempted to evade them and driven recklessly, plowing the van into an oncoming vehicle. Though she’d turned out to be a traitor, Penny still regretted her death.
“Yes, I’m afraid that’s true as well. Her boyfriend has been brought in for questioning in relation to the incident. I don’t think we have to worry about him. The chap urinated on himself.” Nigel shuddered a bit. “On to happier things—how is Damon recovering?”
He was a bear, her Master. He was cranky and crabby and gloriously alive. “He’s doing well.” She forced a smile on her face. “He should be ready to work again very soon.”
It was the one thing about her future she didn’t like to think about.
“As to that, Mr. Knight’s health is exactly why I called you in,” Nigel said. “I told you I wanted a report on his fitness for duty. You haven’t sent it yet.”
Because she didn’t want to. Because she wanted him safe. Because she couldn’t stand the thought of losing him. And yet, she couldn’t betray him. “I will have it on your desk in the morning.”
“And what will it say?”
She took a deep breath. She’d made her decision about this a long time ago. “That Agent Knight is ready for fieldwork.”
“Oh, darling, that is such a lie,” a familiar voice said from behind her.
She turned and Damon stood in the doorway, looking gorgeous and polished in his tailored suit. He didn’t look like a man who had almost died. He looked every inch the seductive, deadly agent. “Damon?”
His lips curled up. “I followed you, love. I couldn’t let you do this alone. And as for her report to you, Nigel, she’s going to tell you the truth.”
Nigel smiled slightly. “And what is that?”
“I’m utterly unfit for service, sir. My lungs were damaged, my heart as well. I shouldn’t ever run past a moderate jog, and I tend to lose consciousness when my heart rate gets too high. The lucky thing is I’m perfectly fit in bed.”
“Damon!” He didn’t have to mention that.
“Well, you seem ready to send me into the field, but you treat me like an invalid when we’re in bed together. She’s held me off for days.” He sank into the seat beside her. “It has to stop. It’s all madness.”
Nigel didn’t bother to cover his laugh. “Well, should I get a desk ready for you?”
Damon shuddered. “Absolutely not. I’ll have my resignation to you as soon as possible. Nigel, I can’t thank you enough. You’ve been damn good to me over the years. I intend to give you a slight discount on my services in the future. I’m opening the London office of McKay-Taggart.”
That was news to her. “I thought he wanted you in New York.”
“I told him to bite my arse,” Damon said with an arrogant grin. “It was London or I’d compete against him. He made the right call, although he’s tough when he’s bargaining. We already have our first two employees. I hope you can translate Australian.”
Brody and Walter. It looked like Walt was going to work his second life to its fullest. She smiled. “I think I can manage it.”
He was quitting. He would never be completely safe, but if he was running the office, he could mitigate the risks. Tears sparked in her eyes.
He was hers.
“Nige? Could we have a minute alone?” Damon asked.
Her boss rolled his eyes but stood. “I suppose so. I’m losing Penelope, as well, I suspect. Good luck to you both. And I’ll expect a twenty-percent discount, damn it. Contractors.”
The door closed behind him.
“I’m not giving him more than fifteen,” Damon said. “I love you, Penelope.”
He said it all the time now. He didn’t hesitate. Neither did she. “I love you, too. Oh, Damon, do you think you can be happy?”
He took her hand in his, warmth spreading across her skin. “Do you know I’ve almost died twice?”
Oh, she would never forget that. “Yes.”
“What they say is true. Your life passes before you, except the second time, it wasn’t the life I’d lived that passed in front of me. It was the one I could have. It was a life with you. I saw what we could have, Penelope. We could have a home and children and a right brilliant old age. We could have love. I want that life. I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
He got to one knee and she gasped. She’d expected him to ask her to live with him. She’d known he would want her to take his collar.
She hadn’t expected this.
He pulled out a ring. “This is all I have left of my mum. My granddad gave it to me before he died. I used to hide it in my socks. Even at boarding school, I kept it close. I was so afraid of losing it.” He pressed it into her palm. “It’s yours. Even if you tell me no, it’s yours. This ring belonged to the only other woman who ever loved me, and I want to give it to you.”
Translation. Will you marry me?
“Oh, yes.” She threw her arms around him. “Yes, Damon. That ring is mine.”
And he was hers.
She kissed her man.
Damon’s hands tightened and suddenly she was on Nigel’s desk.
“Damon, what are you doing? Damon, you can’t do that here.” The entirety of SIS was outside the door. Nigel could walk back in at any time.
His eyes heated up and he spread her legs, making a place for himself. She could already feel his cock hardening against her. “When are you going to learn? Don’t tell me what I can’t do.”
He proceeded to show her that he could.
* * * *
Dallas, TX
Two nights later
Simon Weston poured himself a Scotch and looked over at his cousins, thinking about the question J.T. had just asked. How had his trip gone? Well, he’d finally gotten his hands on Chelsea, and she’d pushed him away again.
And then he’d looked like a complete idiot for drinking drugged tea. He was so glad they’d caught that crazed-idiot Candice and arrested her. She could report on the current state of the British prison system. “My stay was perfectly pleasant, thank you.”
He wasn’t about to tell them how he’d f*cked up again. He blamed Chelsea. He’d been watching her the whole time or he might have noticed his drink had been roofied. Even as the drugs had taken effect, he’d reached out to her.
And she’d ignored him. Again.
J.T. Malone rolled his dark eyes and took a swig of beer. Simon only kept it in his fridge for his cousins’ visits, which were occurring more and more often, but then he’d expected to see them since he was living so close. “I talked to Aunt Maura. She said you barely stopped by. Were you doing the spy shit?”
“It’s not shit, a*shole.” Michael reached out and swatted his twin. “Just because you’re happy behind a damn desk doesn’t mean the rest of us are.”
His cousins fought as often now as they did when they were all kids. He would get sent to Texas during long school holidays. His parents were lovely people, but he’d really enjoyed the freedom he’d found on his uncle’s ranch. His uncle ran Malone Oil, one of the wealthiest companies in the world, but no one would accuse David Malone or his sons of being aristocratic. No one treated him like royalty on the ranch. There was no pressure on him to bring glory to the family name there. A break from the pressure of being one of the Duke of Norsley’s heirs had been a good reason to come see his cousins.
The other being that he genuinely enjoyed their company. They were more his brothers than his own brother. Clive never even knew he did the “spy stuff,” much less complained about it.
“I’m in private security now.” He went to the big floor to ceiling windows that showed a spectacular view of Dallas. In the distance, the lights from Reunion Tower blinked like a giant Christmas ornament.
“You work for Ian Taggart,” Michael said, walking up behind him. “I might be a SEAL, but we all know who Tag is. And we know he works for the Agency.”
Tag might work for them from time to time, but he always stayed true to himself. It was why Simon followed him. If there was one thing he’d learned over the years, it was to answer to his own conscience always.
What had Shakespeare said? Every subject’s duty is the king’s, but every subject’s soul is his own.
That summed up the utter shit a soldier went through. He was done being a good soldier, a good son, a good agent. Being good had gotten him nowhere.
“Well, I only work for Tag. How about you? I heard the Agency is sniffing around you.” Tag had told him. Michael was a SEAL and a highly decorated one at that. He was smart, and there was a darkness about him that spoke of deadly grace. He was the opposite of his sunny other half. J.T. was an open book, every emotion out there worn on his sleeve. Michael’s waters ran deep.
Simon was worried for his cousin. He was worried about what would happen if the Agency got their hooks in him.
J.T. frowned fiercely. “What the hell? You’re not joining the f*cking Agency. My brother is not becoming some damn CIA agent. You’re supposed to get tired of playing soldier and come the hell home.”
Michael gritted his teeth. Simon was fairly certain this wasn’t the first time they’d had this argument. “Big brother, keep your damn nose out of my business.”
Yes, that was what he needed to complete his evening. He needed a Malone brothers smack down. “You two keep it down or you can head back to Fort Worth. I’m not in the mood to play referee. Why the hell did you come all the way out here anyway?”
J.T. put his boots on the coffee table. “We wanted to see if you nabbed that nerd you were after. You were in Europe with her. We thought you might take the chance to make your move.”
He wished he’d never told his cousins about Chelsea. Too much Scotch. He should quit while he was ahead. “She’s not a nerd.”
Michael shrugged. “Hey, nerds can be hot.”
She wasn’t hot around him. She was cold as ice. Except every now and then he saw it in her eyes. He saw her longing. She wanted a Master and he wanted to take care of her.
“I work with her. Nothing more.” The bell chimed just in time to save him from a conversation he’d rather not have. “I’ll be right back.”
He’d ordered Chinese earlier—before his cousins had arrived. They were like locust. He would be lucky to get a noodle or two. He reached for his wallet as he opened the door.
Chelsea stood there, glancing nervously down the hallway. “Simon, I need to talk to you. Can I come in?”
He was dumbstruck. She avoided him like the plague and now she showed up on his doorstep looking like sin on two legs. She was wearing tight jeans and a V-neck sweater that showed off her breasts. “Why?”
She bit her bottom lip, sending his hormones into overdrive. “Because someone’s trying to kill me.”
He opened the door, letting her in and wondering if he’d ever let her leave again.
Simon, Chelsea, and the whole McKay-Taggart team returns August 19, 2014 with A View to a Thrill.
Author’s Note
I’m often asked by generous readers how they can help get the word out about a book they enjoyed. There are so many ways to help an author you like. Leave a review. If your e-reader allows you to lend a book to a friend, please share it. Go to Goodreads and connect with others. Recommend the books you love because stories are meant to be shared. Thank you so much for reading this book and for supporting all the authors you love!
A View to a Thrill
Master and Mercenaries, Book 7
By Lexi Blake
Coming August 19, 2014
A Spy without a Country
Simon Weston grew up royal in a place where aristocracy still mattered. Serving Queen and country meant everything to him, until MI6 marked him as damaged goods and he left his home in disgrace. Ian Taggart showed him a better way to serve his fellow man and introduced him to Sanctum, a place to pursue his passion for Dominance and submission. Topping beautiful subs was a lovely distraction until he met Chelsea, and becoming her Master turned into Simon’s most important mission.
A Woman without Hope
Chelsea Dennis grew up a pawn to the Russian mob. Her father’s violent lessons taught her that monsters lurked inside every man and they should never be trusted. Hiding in the shadows, she became something that even the monsters would fear—an information broker who exposed their dirty secrets and toppled their empires. Everything changed when Simon Weston crossed her path. Valiant and faithful, he was everything she needed—and a risk she couldn’t afford to take.
A Force too Strong to Resist
When dark forces from her past threaten her newfound family at Sanctum, Chelsea must turn to Simon, the one man she can trust with her darkest secrets. Their only chance to survive lies in a mystery even Chelsea has been unable to solve. As they race to uncover the truth and stay one step ahead of the assassins on their heels, they will discover a love too powerful to deny. But to stop a killer, Simon just might have to sacrifice himself…
Dungeon Games: A Masters and Mercenaries Novella
Masters and Mercenaries, Book 6.5
By Lexi Blake
Coming May 13, 2014
Obsessed
Derek Brighton has become one of Dallas’s finest detectives through a combination of discipline and obsession. Once he has a target in his sights, nothing can stop him. When he isn’t solving homicides, he applies the same intensity to his playtime at Sanctum, a secretive BDSM club. Unfortunately, no amount of beautiful submissives can fill the hole that one woman left in his heart.
Unhinged
Karina Mills has a reputation for being reckless, and her clients appreciate her results. As a private investigator, she pursues her cases with nothing holding her back. In her personal life, Karina yearns for something different. Playing at Sanctum has been a safe way to find peace, but the one Dom who could truly master her heart is out of reach.
Enflamed
On the hunt for a killer, Derek enters a shadowy underworld only to find the woman he aches for is working the same case. Karina is searching for a missing girl and won’t stop until she finds her. To get close to their prime suspect, they need to pose as a couple. But as their operation goes under the covers, unlikely partners become passionate lovers while the killer prepares to strike.
Their Virgin Secretary
Masters of Ménage, Book 6
By Shayla Black and Lexi Blake
Coming April 15, 2014
Three determined bosses…
Tate Baxter, Eric Cohen, and Kellan Kent are partners for one of the most respected law practices in Chicago. But these three masters of the courtroom also share a partnership in the bedroom, fulfilling the darkest needs of their female submissives night after night. Everything was fine—until they hired Annabelle Wright as their administrative assistant.
One beautiful secretary…
Belle felt sure she’d hit the jackpot with her job, but in the last year, the three gorgeous attorneys have become far more than her bosses. They’re her friends, her protectors, and in Belle’s dreams, they’re her lovers, too. But she’s given her heart to them all, so how can she choose just one?
An unforgettable night…
When her bosses escort her to a wedding, drinks and dancing turn into foreplay and fantasy. Between heated kisses, Belle admits her innocence. Surprise becomes contention and tempers flare. Heartbroken and unwilling to drive them apart, Belle leaves the firm and flees to New Orleans.
That leads to danger.
Resolved to restore her late grandmother’s home, she hopes she can move on without the men. Then Kellan, Tate, and Eric show up at her doorstep, seeking another chance. But something sinister is at work in the Crescent City and its sights are set on her. Before the trio can claim Annabelle for good, they just might have to save her life.
* * * *
Excerpt:
One year, two months, and four days. Four hundred thirty days all totaled, but Tate hated to calculate their time together that way. It depressed him. Ten thousand three hundred twenty hours wasn’t much better, considering that was how long he’d gone without sex. Because that was how long it had been since he’d first laid eyes on Annabelle Wright. She’d walked into his office with her resume in hand, and he’d just stared, dumbstruck. He didn’t believe in love at first sight, but he’d found lust in that single glance. Oh, yeah. He’d taken one look at the goddess applying for a job and known exactly why he’d gone to the gym five times a week since he’d turned seventeen.
But love? He’d taken a whole week of consideration before deciding that he had fallen in love with Belle. After all, he was a careful man. He liked to think things out.
“Indulgence leads to chaos. Dominic is going to rue the day he let his sub run wild.” Kellan frowned at Kinley, then swiveled his gaze toward the dance floor. “Who is that?”
Tate followed Kellan’s line of sight and scowled. Belle danced with some overgrown ape whose smile seemed way too friendly. She looked gorgeous in her emerald cocktail dress. Its V-neck and body-fitting lines showed off her every curve. She wasn’t a tall woman, but those crazy-sexy black shoes she wore made her legs look deliciously long. Tate had no idea how women maintained their balance while walking on those high, thin heels. He was pretty sure, however, they would look great wrapped around his neck.
The only thing he didn’t like about the way Belle looked was the animated expression she turned up at the lug hanging on her. Then she laughed—a sound that always did strange things to his insides.
Eric slapped a big hand across his back. “Chill, buddy. That’s Cole Lennox. He’s a PI here in Dallas. We’ve used his company before. He’s happily married. I don’t think he’s trying to mack on our girl.”
Tate still didn’t like it. “Why isn’t he dancing with his wife?”
He was rational enough to know that jealousy was a completely illogical response in this situation. Technically, Belle wasn’t his. She’d never even gone on a real date with him. They’d had lunch exactly fifty-two times over the last year, but they’d mostly talked about work. He’d taken her to happy hour fifteen times, where she always ordered vodka tonics, C?roc, or Grey Goose, with a half a twist of lime. They’d still talked about work. And the weather. None of that counted, though, because she’d treated him like a colleague, not a boyfriend. He hadn’t kissed her yet or made his intentions clear, so he had no right to be jealous that Belle danced with another man. For once, he didn’t care if he made less than perfect sense.
Kellan pointed to the other end of the floor. “He can’t. His brother is dancing with her. They’re twins and I’ve heard they share.”
“Really?” Tate sat up and sent a challenging glance to Kell and Eric. “I’m seeing a picture here. The Lennox twins married the same girl. Those three oil tycoons over there have one wife, and we all saw the three royal princes walk in with their bride. Hell, the whole board of Anthony Anders decided to marry the same woman. But it can’t work for us? Explain that.”
That was the argument Tate had heard from Eric and especially Kellan for the past year, ever since the night they’d sat around the office and each admitted they were crazy about their new secretary. Administrative Assistant. Office Manager. Belle changed her title more than once. She took exception to the term secretary, but Tate thought it was kind of hot.
Kellan sighed, turning toward him. “Just because it works for some other people doesn’t mean it would work for the two of you.”
“The two of us? Really? You’re still going to play it that way?” Eric challenged. “Tell me you don’t want her, too.”
Kellan’s eyes hooded. Tate had made almost a scientific study of his friends in an attempt to really understand them. Kellan had four major expressions that he used like masks. This particular one Tate had named “stubborn a*shole.” Kellan used it a lot.
“Of course I want her. I’ve never denied that. She’s a beautiful woman, not to mention lovely, kind, and very smart. If I was interested in getting married again, I would be all over her. But I’m not, and I doubt she’s the type of woman to have no-strings-attached sex.”
“I want strings.” Tate needed to make that brutally clear because his partners seemed to constantly forget. They should take notes during their conversations the way he often did. But again, no one asked his opinion. “I want to be tangled up in all her strings. She’s the one. I get that what we want is unusual, though it really doesn’t seem that way today. I swear the two dogs are the only non-ménage relationship here. Belle might be surprised that we all want her, but she’s not going to be shocked. She’s fine with Kinley’s marriage.”
Eric sighed. “Maybe, but we need to be careful. She hasn’t dated anyone since she started working with us.”
Tate knew that very well since he’d been keeping an eye on her. Hopefully she never knew the extent of his observation because what he’d done was illegal. And possibly a little stalkerish.
“There’s some reason for that,” Eric went on.
Didn’t they get it? “Because she’s waiting for us to make a move.”
“Or she’s just working hard and isn’t ready to settle down,” Kellan pointed out. “She’s young, man.”
“It’s not like we’re old.”
Tate didn’t feel old. He was thirty-two. Given that the average life expectancy of an American male was seventy-six, that didn’t sound old. Then he did the math and realized that he was forty-two percent of the way through his accepted life expectancy. Forty-two percent—closing in on half. When he looked at it that way, he did feel old. He refused to waste another second.
“That’s it.” Tate stood and straightened his tie. “I’m going in.”
God, he hoped he looked halfway decent because he often got rumpled and didn’t notice. He would probably still be wearing pocket protectors if he hadn’t become good friends with Eric in tenth grade.
He’d tutored Eric through rudimentary algebra, and Eric had taught him that jeans weren’t supposed to hit above the ankles. They’d been a weird duo, the jock and the nerd. But their relationship meant more to him than any other. His parents were cold intellectuals who told him he’d failed by not going into academic pursuits—because yeah, Harvard law had been a breeze. His brothers cared more about their experiments than their family. So Tate and Eric had stuck together like blood, and Kellan had joined them after college.
But Tate realized in that moment that he needed more. He needed Belle. So did they, but she had to come first. “I’m going to do it. I’m going to offer her my penis.”
Eric’s head hit the table and he groaned. “Dude, how do you ever get laid?”
So he wasn’t smooth. At least he was honest. “She already has my heart. I would like for her to take my penis, too. Is that so much to ask?”
“If you ask her like that, she’ll just smack you,” Kellan pointed out.
Frustration welled. He sat back down. “Damn it, that’s why we need to go after her as a pack. I’m not good at the smooth stuff.”
“By smooth stuff, he means any type of actual communication with a woman.” Eric rolled his eyes.
They were totally missing the point. “I communicate fine. She’ll know what I want and how I want it.”
“Which is precisely why she’ll know where she wants to slap you next.” Kellan shook his head. “This might be a bad idea, but it couldn’t hurt for you to dance with her. Can you do that without asking her to take your penis in marriage?”
He wasn’t completely sure. His cock had a mind of its own. “I think I can handle it.”
“Good. Go on, then. I’ll talk to Eric.” Kell sighed. “I guess we really do need to figure out how to handle her. I can’t stand the thought of another uncomfortable plane trip back. She didn’t talk to me the whole flight down. Taking the hands-off approach isn’t working. I get the feeling she’s just about ready to throw in the towel and leave all of us.” Kellan’s eyes narrowed suddenly. “And that a*shole isn’t married. Go. Make sure he doesn’t get his hands on Belle.”
Tate’s stare zipped to her. Sure enough, a guy was cutting in on Lennox. He leered down at Annabelle, then peered straight at her boobs.
Those boobs were his, damn it. At least he fully intended for those boobs to belong to him. Well, a third of them anyway. “You two work it out because I’m making a move by the end of the night…”