A_Dom_Is_Forever
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If he didn’t figure out what a complete freak she was, she might make a friend.
Her small flat in the Financial District used to be Thomas Molina’s brother’s place. Now it was hers while they were in London. Thomas had generously offered her a room in his townhouse, but she’d needed a little space. After so many years alone but surrounded by people, she needed some independence. And she’d found some great places to eat. She was rather excited to share her finds with the new hotties.
“And I lost you again,” Simon said with a long-suffering sigh.
“Sorry. I drift. I will handle this. Thanks for bringing it to my attention. We need all the funding we can get with the new Congo plans.” The Congo was on the verge of civil war or a spiral into the domesticity of true democracy. The Fund intended to help ensure the country had everything it needed to take the right path. Fed people were happy people. Educated people tended toward democracy. “I’m sorry about my plans tonight.”
“Of course,” Simon said. “Perhaps another time. At least let me escort you back to the office. You can explain to me the fascination this place holds. I can see a day or two, but you’ve been coming here for a while now.”
“And I could take another two months and still not see everything.” She wrapped her sandwich up. It could wait until she was back at her desk.
She began to follow Simon out of the light of the grand rotunda. Tomorrow she would visit the Egypt Galleries. And maybe she would find someone to talk to. Like that amazing-looking guy she’d seen here a couple of times. Tall, dark, and gorgeous. He seemed to be just as obsessed with the British Museum as she was. And today he’d even brought a friend. A blond Viking of a man.
He’d been beautiful, but nothing like the dark-haired man. She’d been thinking about him all week. Two chance glances at the same man and she was having dreams about him. It might not even have been the same guy.
Maybe she should stop reading those damn romance novels. They were giving her crazy expectations.
She followed Simon on to the train and thought about her green-eyed mystery man.
Chapter Two
Liam walked through the very unimpressive doors of The Garden. There was nothing about the Chelsea club from the outside that would give away the decadent playground that was inside the bland-looking, six-story building. From the outside, it could be any office space. There was no signage, no neon lights marking the way. If a patron wanted inside The Garden, he had to know the way, and he better be approved by Damon Knight, the owner and resident Dom.
“Ian.” Damon stood behind the front desk talking to the hostess. She was already dressed in fet wear for the evening. The perfectly young and fresh sub was exactly his type. Skinny with nice tits and more makeup than any single woman should ever wear. She couldn’t be past twenty-two, so why did she seem so much older and harder than Avery? And why the fuck couldn’t he get that woman out of his head?
Damon Knight stood almost as tall as Ian, his shoulders broad and wide and his body still fit from years of time served in Britain’s Special Air Service. He was an old friend of Ian’s. Apparently ex-commandos-turned-Doms stuck together.
Liam just had to hope Damon wasn’t also working with MI6. Liam couldn’t imagine that Britain’s version of the CIA wouldn’t love to sit him down and have a talk about what had happened in Dublin all those years ago.
Not that he would have much to say since he didn’t bloody remember what had happened.
He’d been on the run for years, but now he’d walked right back into the lion’s den.
“Damon.” Ian held out a hand, shaking the ex-SAS soldier’s. “Thanks for hosting us.”
“No problem.” Damon’s accent was cultured, not a hint of cockney or country in there. He was pure Oxford bred. “I’m happy to have you. All of you. More of you than I expected.”
The last was said with a broad grin, as though the man was thrilled at the prospect of a little chaos.
Ian’s brow furrowed, a sure sign that he wasn’t happy. “I told you to expect Eve. And this is Liam O’Donnell. He’s running the op. He’s the one who found the connection between Molina and Eli Nelson.”
Damon turned to Liam, holding out a hand. Would the big guy want to shake his hand if he knew he was likely considered a traitor by his government? Liam didn’t miss a beat. He shook Damon’s hand. “Nice to meet you, O’Donnell. Your crew is in the meeting room. And I’ve offered everyone who has rights at Sanctum the same rights in The Garden. Feel free to enjoy the club. Especially that pretty little brunette your boys brought with them. From what I understand, she’s a bit of a celebrity. Siobhan back there says her books are all the rage.”
Ian’s face went cold. “They wouldn’t.”
Liam bit back a laugh. Someone was in serious trouble. “Oh, I bet they would. They just got married, Ian. I would bet little Serena didn’t like her boys heading off to Europe without her.”
“I’m going to kill them.” Ian strode into the dungeon and toward the lifts. Liam followed, Damon’s laugh echoing through the big room.
The Garden was very different from Sanctum, the club Ian owned in Dallas. Sanctum was a dungeon, and it looked that way. The Garden was pure theater. It was one of the most unusual spaces Liam had ever been in. There was a large hole in the dead center of the building, a massive skylight that allowed light to fill the space. The big dungeon was decked out as a decadent, wild garden, with vines and dark plants seeming to permeate the walls. Liam didn’t really look, though. He was on a mission, and a bunch of night-blooming flowers weren’t really his thing. He did see a couple of clever scene spaces. St. Andrew’s Crosses dominated one wall, and there was a space with plush spanking benches. Damon Knight seemed to thrive on the drama of his dungeon space.
Ian jabbed at the lift button, his impatience seeming to grow by the minute. Liam followed him into the lift.
The idea of having Master rights at the club was something to be grateful for. He would need the outlet. Spanking a lovely sub would be a good way to unwind at the end of the day. Maybe Siobhan needed a partner. He could get into that.
The lift walls were glass. Liam stared out and down as they rode up to the fourth floor. He could see the dungeon below him.
A sudden vision of Avery Charles among the winding vines assaulted him. Her luminous skin would make her look like a pearl among the dark plants, like a flower blooming in the gloom. He’d mostly seen her in the sun. Would she illuminate the darkness?
The lift doors opened, and Liam was startled out of his vision. He was getting to be as bad as his friends. He felt a grin light his face because those friends of his were about to get their asses kicked. Ian looked like he was out for blood.
The fourth floor looked more like an office space. Liam stepped out of the lift and it was like he’d been transported back to the real world. He followed Ian toward the boardroom.
Liam pushed open the door to the meeting room. The boardroom was brightly lit with an expensive looking conference table and chairs. High-tech computer equipment sat on a desk in the corner, and a big projection screen covered the far wall.
Adam Miles sat at the desk fiddling around with the equipment. Alex McKay looked over his shoulder. No problem there. And then he saw Jacob Dean. Jake was in the corner quietly talking to a pretty brunette. Liam felt a smile cross his face. That brunette wasn’t supposed to be here. She wasn’t anywhere close to being a member of the team. Thank god. Ian would crawl out of his backside now that he had a new target.
“Jacob Dean,” Ian began in the icy voice that must have scared the crap out of every soldier he used it on. “Do you want to explain to me why your wife is in my boardroom when she should be safely back in the Lone Star State?”
“I told you this wasn’t the way to tell him,” a low, feminine voice said. She didn’t try to hide her amusement as she rose gracefully from her seat. Eve St. James. Liam couldn’t help but smile. The resident shrink had a calming presence about her. Eve was gor
Jake pushed Serena behind him as though Ian would attack at any minute. “Now, Ian, we need to talk about this.”
Adam got up, scrambling away from the desk to put his own body in front of Serena. Did they really think Ian was going to kill the girl? “She had to come with us.”
Ian crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Oh, I would like to hear this one. Has Serena been surgically attached to one of you? Has she developed a medical condition in which she must be around one of her Masters or she’ll die? Submissivitis?”
“Ian, we just got married. You can’t expect us to leave our wife behind,” Adam argued.
“Oh, really? Because I did.”
Liam stood beside Ian, only mocking his ultra-alpha stance a little. Maybe a lot. “Would you like to let me know how you’re going to explain little Miss Sunshine to our mark? I thought you were doing the gay thing as your cover.”
“Our cover is solid.” Adam pointed down to his pants, a ridiculously tight pair of denims that molded to his legs. “Look, jeggings. Trust me, there’s no worry on that front.”
Jake grinned. “They didn’t have any in my size. Guess guys as big as me don’t wear jeggings.”
An arm crept around Adam’s waist. “I think you look hot, babe. And I’m not exactly staying with them, you know, Ian. I have a very nice hotel room in Kensington. That’s on the whole other side of the city.”
“There’s nowhere in London that’s not a couple of Tube stops away. You are getting back on a plane tonight,” Ian said.
Jake and Adam started to puff up. Serena moved from between them and faced down Ian herself. Or rather faced up. She was a good foot shorter than him.
“I’m not going home.”
Ian growled.
“Fine. I’m not going home, Sir.” Serena stood her ground even though she flinched just a little. “I might be pregnant.”
Ian’s eyes flared. “Then why were you drinking vodka tonics the last time I saw you?”
“It’s too early to tell.” Serena’s eyes were wide with a hint of mischief in them.
“Oh, I can tell, Serena,” Ian shot back. “I can walk outside right now and find a stick for you to pee on.”
That was Ian. Always a giver.
“Back off, Ian.” Jake pulled her back.
“Not when she’s disrupting the op,” Ian replied.
Serena’s eyes rolled in a way that would ensure her ass was red at some point in the day. She was an awfully cute little brat. “I’m not going to disrupt anything. And I’m not leaving. We’re trying to get pregnant. I can’t get pregnant if my husbands are on a different continent. And before you offer to ship their sperm via UPS, you should know that I intend to do this the old-fashioned, traditional way.”
Yes, Serena Dean-Miles was so traditional she’d married two men. Well, legally she’d married one, but the other had come along for the ride. “Serena, you have to stay in Kensington. You can’t come to Jake and Adam’s place. I don’t even want you within a mile of Liverpool station.”
Avery’s apartment was in a building just across from the station. She was conveniently situated between a fast food joint and a pub called Dirty Dick’s.
Serena turned to him, her eyes bright as though she recognized a reprieve when it was offered to her. “I promise. I won’t go near that part of the city. I’m working on a book. I’m on a hard deadline, so it’s very unlikely you’ll see me at all. I’ll just send them a text when I’m ovulating.”
Adam grinned. “We tag team on the baby making. It’s my sperm’s turn next time.”
Ian groaned. “God, I did not need to hear that.”
Liam didn’t understand the impulse to create a tiny human thing that would be utterly dependent on him and require hours of upkeep. Simple. That was the only way to live, and that meant avoiding hairy entanglements like children. He could barely maintain friendships. “Can we move on to the actual work portion of this evening?”
He wanted the rundown on the blond asshole who’d been hitting on her. She’d obviously known him. He didn’t need competition. He needed to be the only thing little Avery thought about. He needed to find a way to become her obsession.
Serena’s eyes lit up, and she ran for her notepad. Liam groaned. If he let her stay, she would inundate the whole team with questions and then later this little meeting would undoubtedly show up in one of her books.
“Jake and Adam, no civvies allowed.” Liam didn’t want to become one of her bloody heroes. They inevitably lost their balls to some girl.
Serena looked up. “What? Come on. I just want to take a few notes.”
Adam simply picked his sub up and started for the door. “You’ve pushed them enough, love. Time to go and wait for us to be done. You knew we were working. I’m taking you back down to the dungeon.”
She pouted up at him. “Yeah, but I thought I could watch.”
“Not this time, baby. Sit out in the club and don’t pester Master Damon with questions,” Jake said as his partner opened the door.
“But he seems so interesting.” Serena’s voice faded as Adam carried her away.
“We’ll be lucky if Damon doesn’t toss us out on our arses, as he would say.” Ian growled right before throwing himself in the chair at the head of the table. “Reports, people.”
“He’s in an awesome mood.” Eve opened her arms and hugged Liam. “How are you doing?”
There was a speculative look in her eyes as she gave him a once-over. There was no denying that look. It was the look a shrink gave her prized patient. Sometimes Liam thought Eve used his case as a way to escape her own problems, but he didn’t begrudge her. She kept his secrets and he kept hers. They had settled into a nice friendship. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” Eve touched his shirt, smoothing it down. Sometimes Eve could treat him like a child in need of soothing and mothering. Perhaps because she’d heard him cry out like one.
“He said he was fine, Eve. You don’t have to baby him.” Alex stared at them, arms crossed over his chest. Alex stood almost as tall as Ian, though he had a leaner frame. He looked just as fucking mean, though, as he stared at Liam.
Because Liam knew what Alex thought. Alex thought Liam was sleeping with Eve. Alex didn’t understand that the time he and Eve spent together had nothing to do with sex. Alex was brutally jealous and a simple conversation could clear it up, but it really wasn’t Liam’s problem. Alex didn’t need to know that he was seeing Eve on a professional basis. That’s what the whole term “client-patient confidentiality” meant, and he wasn’t going to feel guilty about it. He just wasn’t.
“I think I can ask questions on my own, Alex.” Eve’s voice was frosty cold, and she turned away from Liam, crossing the room and taking her seat again.
Fucking hell. He didn’t want to give a shit. Eve was his bloody therapist, and Alex didn’t need to know a thing. He could think what he well wanted. It didn’t mean anything to Liam. He didn’t care. The mission was the only thing that mattered.
Yeah, he was going to keep right on telling himself that.
Adam walked back in the room. He twisted a dial on the wall and the lights dimmed. Liam took his seat. It was showtime.
“So who’s the blond guy?” Liam asked.
Adam jogged across the room, clicking on the remote in his hand. “Okay. I got the lowdown on this guy. Simon Weston. Thirty-five. Single. So very British. He’s a lawyer. Cambridge law. Top of his class. Joined a small, top-of-the-line firm right out of school. He’s the second son of the Duke of Norsely. Financially he’s a winner. According to what I could track down, he’s worth roughly ten million pounds. He did some time in the Royal Air Force because apparently that’s what Weston males do.”
So he was rich and had titled relatives. Nice. “What’s he doing chasing after Avery Charles?”
Liam could hear the edge in his own voice. The fucker should be dating some available pop star. What was he doing with a slightly overweight brunette who was so fucking soft she practically melted in the sunlight?
“He left Hanover and Giles last year to join the United One Fund. He now heads up the legal department of the charity. He doesn’t have anything to do with Molina’s for profit businesses.”
“So he’s a do-gooder?” Eve asked, her pen tapping against the table.
“I don’t know. He seems very eager to get close to his new boss. This was taken a couple of weeks ago. The London staff threw a surprise welcome party. It was all suitably posh. Apparently Molina has never visited the London offices before.” Adam clicked the remote and a picture of Simon and Molina came up. Simon was sitting in a chair at what was obviously a banquet table, and Molina stood beside him, leaning on his cane. Molina was a dark-haired man with a round face and a dour smile. While Simon Weston was in a tuxedo, Molina was professorial in slacks and a tweed blazer. He looked very much the intellectual philanthropist.
What was that man doing meeting with Eli Nelson?
“It’s odd actually,” Adam explained. “In Cambridge he was quite involved in conservative party politics. He wrote several published essays decrying the Labor Party, including complaints about the amount of foreign aid Westernized countries dole out and a long-winded argument against the dole itself. He doesn’t like dole.”
“Keep the jokes to a minimum. So what happened to turn the boy into a bleeding heart?” Ian stared at the screen.
“No idea,” Adam replied.
“Maybe it was a girl.” Jake leaned forward, his hands on the table. “If you’re really worried about this guy, we can dig into his dating history. We all know that falling for a girl can make you do strange things. Things you wouldn’t normally do. Things you never want to do again.”
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