by Combs, Sasha
Laced Impulse
She wants him; even in her state of mind
Sasha Combs
Romance
Copyright © 2012 Lori Turner
Laced Impulse
Sasha Combs
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2012 Lori Turner
Laced Impulse
Sasha Combs
Former Federal agent, Bianca Milton is the newest member of a secret intelligence organization, known as The Agency. These agents travel the globe, using the world's most advanced information gathering techniques. But intelligence work isn’t Bianca’s only interest. From the first time her eyes caught sight of him, she was moonstruck. The Agency’s most effective operative; a man she’d come to know as, MOT. Without ever professing her feelings, she was thoroughly smitten.
As Bianca nears the end of her training, weeks have passed but her attraction for Mot doesn’t wane. Her longing is unwavering for this one male agent. Unbeknownst to her, Mot is overseas, already deep into an investigation. The Agency receives a call, requesting Bianca by name as backup. A game player now, Bianca relies heavily on her training, but when she becomes the target; something deadly and possibly untraceable threatens her life. With his mission completed, and the target identified; Mot returns, searching for Bianca. There’s a race against time.
Dealing with something, like never before; while trying to help her, Mot learns something unexpected. He’s forced to admit longings that lie heavy in his heart. Uncovering identities is key, but learning about love, forms unexpected ties. Laced passions bloom, unearthing hidden impulses and desires.
Laced Impulses. A thrilling story of suspense, romance and love.
Prologue
She wanted more of him.
Decidedly more than her.
In her inner ear, she felt a slight shift. The boat listing to one side, slanting more to the horizon; its tilt ignoring the shore. Her skin burned from the slashes. Tiny cuts crisscrossing a landscape over her back and shoulders. The abrasions weren’t gashes but the superficial tears held her notice. Pain gripped her very essence, testing her will to survive. Yet, her body was readily predisposed to dismiss the annoyance. She muted the pain, instructing her brain to heed other senses.
In the distance, her ears trained in on familiar sounds. A clap of thunder, followed by a flash of lightning. Hearing natures threatening warnings tipped her awareness. The absence of the motors whining churn. She couldn’t recall when she’d last heard the sound of the engines roar. No matter, her mind concluded; then the sound of piano keys resumed, chiming notes she’d come to know. A melody so sweet and tender; she perceived each measure in deep rich colors. She listed the hues, stopping when she envisioned the pinkish-red color of her gown. She wondered where her fingers lie because if she knew, she would pinch herself. At times, her body had a mind of its own; refusing to obey her simplest request. She felt like her brain was purposely stumbling to spite herself. Her body was there, yet it was lost; evidenced by a severed connection. Her brain was in a far-off place, besieged by disjointed images and sounds that sprung up like colorful banners. Questions burst forth, chasing down truths; demanding to know every fact. Reality eluded her, yet her entire world shone like a spotlight. In her mind, absolutes were too extreme and facts were excessively exaggerated. Insanity. The word bloomed like petals on an orchid, but the aroma wasn’t the same sweet fragrant smell. Was she losing her mind? She couldn’t embrace this. Accepting this assessment would lead to her effectual doom. By refusing to acknowledge this appraisal, she was in fact laying the groundwork that would form her escape. In front of her, every instinct told her that she was entangled in a dilemma. She could hear voices and their exchanges were heated. Even if the angry words weren’t there, her intuitive awareness rightly perceived the threats of danger.
Words...she thought. Curses. Swears. She could use this. Pit one against the other. This was a plausible plan. It would be, if only she could keep her brain from wandering. She knew that she was at the center of their disagreement. One finding fault with the other, and pointing out their irrational behavior. Good, she thought while listening. Their failure to watch her, was something she definitely could use. Like wooden soldiers, she commanded her thoughts, lining them up at attention. Her musings took no more than a few seconds but then she heard them coming. She could hear their approaching footfalls. Clop, clop, clop, clop. The heels sounded like Clydesdale hoofs pulling a heavily loaded wagon. The room was dark, but still, she squinted, peering into its depths; wanting more than anything to fabricate meaning. Nothing was clear but she sensed the danger. Her choices had landed her here. A path that paved this perilous journey. Oh, how she wished for solid ground but here on the water, there was none.
The boat rocked and tilted but in her state, she couldn’t trust this feeling. The erratic side to side motion could be in her head. Yet, even if the ocean was calm, the waters could be a dangerous place. However, tonight in her head, she perceived a surge. Undulating waves that rolled the boat; much like the bickering had earlier. She grasp hold to her chair, finally feeling her fingers. The swelling sound of footfalls had stopped, now in the frame of the door, she saw shadows. After a few seconds, a beam of light overtook the room. Her eyes were momentarily blinded. Tiny dots flooded her vision and then her sight cleared. She blinked several times. Recognition brightened the experience. She could see her captor, and she prayed for darkness to fall again. She couldn’t remain out here in her current condition. At one time, all had been as calm as the seas; then in an instant, like that clash of thunder. She’d wanted him. Flickers of his face flashed from her memory, causing her to want him far more than her. More than life and the very air that she breathed. Yet, now all she wanted was the chance to erase the nights past events.
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Chapter 1
Weeks earlier...
Bianca sat at her desk, hiding her nail file and polish stealthily on her lap. Fresh out of training, she’d been assigned a mentor. The Agency’s director, no less. After three weeks she’d thought this assignment would have been far less stressful than her training had been. The endless drills. Target practice, classes on profiling and deciphering codes. When her feet landed right outside of the Agency director’s door; Bianca had told herself that it was all downhill from here on. However, the opposite had been the case. Her current position was much like a burr under a saddle and most days she felt like a specimen. She couldn’t kick the notion that she was being closely monitored. She imagined a file, overflowing with reviews, or comments appraising her work, maybe even her potential as a field agent. Of course, she didn’t have a lick of evidence to prove this; but on the other hand, there was nothing to say that her suspicions were groundless.
Director Vance was in his office talking to one of the agents. As directors went, there wasn’t anything highly unusual about the man. Tall and slender. Gray hair sprinkling his temples; giving him that older man distinguished look. An appearance so few men embrace; instead they choose to cover the shade with dyes or penciled in colors. These men grapple for youth; in spite of their efforts, they make themselves appear more foolish than not. But not the director. He wore his age as his badge of honor and not one woman in the office found fault with the man. On occasion, even she’d foun
d herself studying his handsome features but her admiration was always experienced in small doses. Short glimpses and never long gawking stares. In truth, it was all harmless fun because he was married and technically, she was ogling her boss.
Every agent in the building aspired to be like Vance. A veteran in his field and a man with more awards than any agent currently serving. In short; the man was a legion and he’d quietly followed her progress as a Federal Agent in Baltimore. Vance had pulled a few strings, telling her superiors how much she would benefit working under his guidance for a few years. Advancing in covert intelligence on a central level would give her a different perspective that a federal position would benefit from. Especially if that agency technically didn’t exist. The conversations had been off the record; from one agency to the next. Clandestine talks between men and women from high places. In fact, Vance had first heard about Bianca from a federal agent, who was also a close friend. A man working a case that she’d helped him to solve. The agent had been so impressed with her savvy, during a golf game he’d talked about things that were in fact classified. This was highly unusual and Vance couldn’t imagine any person impressing anyone to the point of forgetting the delicate nature of their job; yet Bianca Milton had amazed his friend. To sooth his curiosity, Vance made his own inquires; contacts that reached above the local and federal levels. When Bianca had been reassigned; at first, she didn’t understand and she perceived the position as a promotion. Yet oddly, she was instructed to leave her federal identification behind. Then after she arrived; she’d been surprised to learn that the director required his staff to undergo a critical screening process. Her background was thoroughly checked; the Agency digging into every crevice ever created during her existence. At one point, when her neighbor knocked on her door; complaining about invasion of privacy. Bianca had come close to chucking her job. Telling The Agency and her boss, they could all go to hell. Yet, after enduring the mind boggling scrutiny; she clearly recalled the day when Director Vance called her into his oversized office.
“Bianca...” He had said, using his superior tone. “I’m very impressed by your performance recommendations.”
And that was it. Director Vance held out his hand, welcoming her to the top floor of the building. She was in. Sanctioned and the newest member assigned to the alpha team. An effectual clog fused to a government agency that didn’t exist. In technical terms, like most CIA operatives, she’d been reclassified as a spook or a ghost. An agent trained to participate in undercover operations. A position she’d once thought to be a training exercise; however, after six months in, she quickly came to realize something entirely different. This was a change. A permanent move. In spite of that, she should have been happy. Who wouldn’t be? At her old job, her talents were being wasted. She was far smarter than most of the people and she hated dummying down, pretending that she wasn’t. In contrast, when she compared herself to the people at The Agency; for once, she was being challenged. She’d learned more in one months time, than all her experiences at the bureau. Nonetheless, Bianca wasn’t at all sure she belonged here. Everyday, she felt as if she didn’t quite fit in. It was always one thing or another. Either her skirt was too short or her hair was too long. The people on this floor all seemed so damn perfect. The right hair color. The most sought after clothing designer. Not to put too fine a point on it; everything on and about them was perfect.
It was minor annoyances like this that made her believe, everyday that she didn’t belong. Even now, as she cupped her file and polish in her hand. Bianca knew it had been a foolish idea to spruce up her nails while seated at her desk. The exact moment she palmed her file and polish; out came Director Vance. The man stopped near where she sat; smiling one of his all knowing grins. The pungent smell of alcohol and other chemical vapors; the aromas overshadowed her floral scents. She’d been caught and she knew it. But as usual, he pretended not to notice. She’d been away from her desk, checking training schedules; determining if she was up to date. When she returned, Director Vance’s door had already been closed. He was always gone, attending meetings or off doing only God knows what. Most days he could be found intently observing field missions via satellite feeds. When and if he was ever in his office; it had been her experience that he didn’t remain there very long.
Despite that, she’d been wrong to assume he wasn’t inside of his office. Her eyes drifted pass him, catching sight of another person. She was stunned, seeing the agent he’d been in conference with. All at once, she feared that her heart would stop because this man had that strong of an affect on her.
Mot. That’s what they called him. They had never talked in the true sense of the word, except for passing hello’s or the exchange of courteous nods. Her silence wasn’t for a lack of trying but his persona intimidated her. Despite that, she always looked forward to the days when their paths would cross.
Mot. His eyes were a pale emerald green, more beautiful than the precious gem itself. A shade so dazzling, she rarely dared direct eye contact for fear of being overcome with headiness. In stark contrast, his thick head of hair was dark; a shade slightly lighter than midnight black. His face was shockingly handsome. Etched with sharp angles, accentuating masculine features. A significant compliment to his overall appearance was the cleft that tipped his chin. He wore it strikingly well. His evenly proportioned face was a puzzler. Angelic, serene yet sexually enticing. A dangerous combination. In any case, to look at him; his body was as tempting as his face. He had wide linebacker shoulders that fit his tall tapered muscular build and his clothing failed to disguise his brute strength. Perfection. No other word described him, and at best, even this word failed to do him true justice. Truthfully, she couldn't resist staring but usually she did it unnoticed.
However..on this day, things took an unexpected turn. When she looked in his direction, he arched an eyebrow in question. Obviously waiting for her to say something. She summoned a calm facade, well rehearsed for situations such as this. She straightened her shoulders, lifting her chin; she was hard pressed not to smack her lips, poke out her breast or perform an ancient mating ritual. The man looked just that good and he was deserving of nothing less. But instead, she regrouped, pulling herself back together. She was fostering a respectable outward appearance. A perfect set of words teetered on the tip of her tongue. This time, she was ready, and if he responded as she hoped he would; she had a comeback line to keep the conversation going.
"Mot..." Director Vance said. "Come this way. I think Grey is ready for your debriefing."
Mot nodded, allowing Vance to lead the way. He looked at her curiously, wondering why she'd shrunk back into her shell. He said her name. "Bianca." She understood the duel meaning. He was saying hello and goodbye in the simplest way possible but she couldn't drum up a reply. She mutely smile. Then before she knew it, Mot was gone. Vance was taking him away. Inwardly, she heaved a sigh of relief. Even though her pleasant imaginings had been shattered, some part of her was grateful. As much as she wanted to meet Mot, a larger part of her feared the man. She could never envision him considering a woman like her. When she looked in the mirror she never saw herself in the same way others did. When her female friends described her they used words like, nice, sweet or pretty. While on the other hand, her male friends would sum it up using one word. Hot. She cringed hearing this and she'd always shrug off their compliments; blaming their praise on blind loyalty or some other nonsense. Regardless of her unwillingness to accept the truth; her slender curves did tempt most men, causing them to stop, then lingeringly admire her. On more than one occasion she'd even felt Mot's subtle gazes. Oddly she always felt his eyes more than any other man’s gazes at The Agency. His clandestine, lowered lids were meant to be hidden, but somehow she always felt his stares. Even now, she felt him looking at her. She dared a peek. When she raised her head, her gut feeling had been dead on. She thought his lip curled in a smile meant for her. But when Vance and the agent he’d called Grey joined in, both men loudly laughing. She f
elt a crushing blow. When she looked again, the hallway was empty. What was it about that man that made her behave so foolishly? Next time. When she saw him again, she would speak. She would talk about the weather if she had too. Mot... His name rattled in her brain.
"Mot..." she tested the name on her tongue, liking the sound of it. Bianca’s face creased with a curious expression for more than one reason. First; she knew that Mot wasn’t his name. Some of the agents were given code names and she wondered what the acronym, Mot stood for. Then there was the man himself. Mot came and went, in regular intervals. Like clockwork; every six weeks he would reappear; staying for no more than a few days. Then after a brief meeting with the Director; off again he would go. Returning in six weeks time. Bianca toyed with the reason for his timely absence but she never seriously attempted to solve the puzzle. Knowing those kind of answers wasn’t a part of her job and it definitely wasn’t something that she should be concerned about. The agents came and went; that was the nature of their job. She accepted this, and never was she ever to question anything concerning their activities.
Minutes had passed and still she couldn’t keep her mind on work. She heard a door opening down the hall, then the sound of voices. Bianca’s head rose in expectation. Mot walked out first, followed by Vance and then Grey. She tried not to look. She told her brain not to care. But she did want to see him and she cared far more than she could comprehend. She lifted her lids, sneaking a final eyeful of the mysterious man. Bianca couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. The man she’d come to know as, Mot.