Baby, Come Back

He was grim faced and understandably tense, since his entire future hung in the balance. Even so, he managed a smile and reassuring pat on the shoulder for Cantara before leaving the room.

 

Cantara sat down as the wait for their visitors to reach the house seemed interminable. She caught a glimpse of her image in a nearby mirror and was shocked to see just how pale she looked. Raoul sat on the arm of her chair and played with the hairs that had escaped from her French braid. He coiled them around his index finger and brushed her nape each time he did so, sending delicious shivers down her spine that helped to distract her. Zeke sat opposite her and treated her to one of his infectiously wicked smiles as he touched her knee. They were so attuned to her needs that they always knew exactly how to make her feel better about herself.

 

“We got you, darlin’,” they said at the same time.

 

“Look upon this as revenge time, and try to enjoy it,” Raoul said alone. “You’ve sure as hell earned the right.”

 

“I’m okay, really.”

 

“We’ll make you feel more than okay later, sweetheart,” Zeke said, winking at her. “Hold that thought.”

 

“You have to do whatever I want you to?” she asked, widening her eyes.

 

“Oh no, darlin’.” Raoul’s predatory smile, full of innuendo and self-assurance, caused her pulse to quicken and her * to spring a leak faster than the national debt. Damn it, now wasn’t the time, but when he looked at her that way, her body played by its own rules and she simply couldn’t help the way she responded to his flirtatious challenges. “You know better than that. We’re in charge in the yellow room and if you make demands it’ll earn you a good, hard spanking.”

 

A gurgle of laughter slipped past her guard. “Will it now?”

 

“Witch!”

 

Raoul didn’t have a chance to do anything other than tap her thigh before they heard the door open and voices in the vestibule.

 

“Game on,” Zeke muttered, standing.

 

The three men strode into the room, Agent Parker in the lead, and shook hands with Raoul and Zeke. From her chair Cantara could see just how hard it was for her two guys to shake Pool’s hand without detaching it from his wrist. All three of them then turned to look at her, smiles plastered on their faces.

 

“So pleased to hear you’re better,” Parker said, sounding sincere.

 

“Thanks, yes. I feel much better.” She motioned to the seats surrounding her. “Forgive me if I don’t get up. But please, sit down, all of you. How can I help you?”

 

“If it’s not too painful, talk us through everything that happened to you.”

 

Cantara did so, and for the most part no one interrupted her. Occasionally Parker asked for clarification on some point or other, but aside from that, the floor was Cantara’s.

 

“Can you remember the names of any of the people who stopped by to talk to Salim?” Parker asked.

 

Cantara could, and gave them, along with descriptions and as much as she knew about each individual’s background. Parker was recording everything she said, but still took copious notes.

 

Pool, who looked distinctly unwell, broke his silence. “Did you hear anything said about Levi’s reasons for turning traitor?” he asked.

 

“How could she have done?” Raoul replied for her. “Since you know as well as I do that Levi wasn’t the traitor.”

 

Hassan looked surprised. Parker, significantly, did not, and Cantara wondered just how much information the spook was privy to that he wasn’t sharing. Pool fell back on belligerence and posturing.

 

“What the devil do you mean by that remark, Washington?” Pool stood up, as pugnacious as ever, but Raoul and Zeke stood also, making him appear puny and insignificant by comparison. “Levi’s e-mails condemned him, to say nothing of his breaking out of jail.”

 

“Those e-mails were planted,” Zeke replied. “And he didn’t break out of the detention center. He was removed by the US military to be taken back to headquarters for questioning.”

 

“What’s all this?” Hassan asked, sending Pool a questioning glare.

 

“We know the truth, Pool,” Raoul said. “You have one chance to help yourself and confess, and this is it.”

 

“I know you don’t like me, Washington, and I can assure you the feeling’s mutual. Just because you aren’t as good as you think you are and managed to lose your wife, don’t blame me for your incompetence.”

 

“Told you he wouldn’t man-up,” Raoul said, shrugging. “You owe me ten bucks, bud.”

 

“Americans soldiers went to the detention center with a signed order to release Levi to them so he could be taken for questioning,” Zeke said. “Who do you suppose signed that order, Pool?”

 

The colonel shrugged. “How would I know?”

 

“It was signed by your adjutant, and countersigned by you.”

 

“Bullshit!”

 

“Is it?” Raoul asked, flexing a brow.

 

He strolled about the room, hands clasped behind his back, clearly enjoying himself. Cantara enjoyed watching him. In spite of all those rippling muscles and his aura of tightly controlled strength, his movements were lithe and graceful—a flowing display of masculine vitality that she would have to be dead not to appreciate, no matter how lousy and inappropriate the timing of her thoughts. But it was always that way whenever she was anywhere near Zeke and Raoul. However dire the situation, sex was never far from her thoughts, and she had long since learned not to fight against the power of her instincts. The feel of their hands doing what they did so well, the exquisite agony of being chastised by one or both of them, the joy when they finally penetrated her…