Charmed: A Masters and Mercenaries Novella

by Lexi Blake

  “I didn’t mean we should talk about what I’m going to wear, JT. I mean we need to talk about the fact that we didn’t know we were going to work together when we slept together.”

  He wasn’t going to argue with her about that. “Well, now we know we’re totally compatible. It probably would have been awkward if we’d been thrown together and told ‘hey, now you’re engaged.’”

  She sent him an adorably irritated frown. “Well, for one thing we wouldn’t have to pretend to be engaged if your employees hadn’t caught me in your bedroom. And why did you go straight for engaged?”

  “I thought it was easier than saying we’d actually gotten married.” He snapped his fingers as he remembered something. “We should stop by Tiffany and get you a ring. At least three carats.”

  Her eyes went gorgeously wide. “Three carats? As in diamond?”

  “Of course,” he replied. “Unless you’d rather have a sapphire. It’s up to you. Anything you want. But I’m serious about the blue bikini. Also, you’ll need at least three cocktail dresses. It’s not too formal, but the women do tend to dress up.”

  She shook her head as though forcing herself to focus. “I don’t need an engagement ring.”

  “You do. Look, I’m fully willing to leave all the spy stuff to you, and you leave all the fancy stuff to me. I know I look like I rode in off the range, but I have excellent taste. I get that from my mother. She’s British, too. Why she married my ornery old dad I have no idea. My momma is a lady of the highest order, and she taught me to appreciate the finer things in life.” He needed her unfocused, or rather focused on him. “See, we can start a new tradition. In this relationship, the women shoot and the men make things pretty. Don’t discount making things pretty. I’ve spent months at a time on oil rigs, and I would have killed for some decorative pillows.”

  “I don’t want to talk about clothes or jewelry,” she insisted, though there was a huff in her breath that told him she kind of did want to, but she was going to be all business. “Obviously you know best how to help me fit in with your people. We need to talk about the fact that we slept together and now we’re going on an op.”

  That was a perfect setup. “And sharing a room, so again, I think we’ve made things far less awkward. You will like our room. It’s the presidential suite.”

  “Does it have separate bedrooms?” She asked the question like the right answer could solve all her problems.

  “They can connect several rooms when the resort isn’t full, but Dad likes to keep everyone close, so we’re all in one wing of the resort.” She wasn’t getting away that easily. He stopped at the red light and turned her way. “Are you saying you don’t want to sleep with me? Did I snore?”

  “No.” Her face fell.

  Oh, this was exactly how to deal with the gorgeous operative. She might be good at killing the bad guys, but she didn’t want to break his heart. He’d noticed her compassion while they’d been in the meeting earlier. She hadn’t liked it when Mike had put him in a bad position. She was a woman who picked sides and was inherently loyal. He knew exactly how to work her. “Was it…was it bad for you?”

  She groaned and her head fell back. “It was fabulous and you know it.”

  He did. He gave her a grin. He knew he was being a manipulative bastard, but he fought for what he wanted, and he wanted her. “It was good for me, too. It was kind of the best.”

  She’d gone a delicious shade of pink. “Really?”

  “Really.” He turned onto the access road. It was good to be alone with her again. The conference had unnerved him. His brother constantly said he was naïve, and now he might have to agree with him since it appeared someone had been murdered on his watch. “It was one of the best nights of my life. Followed by one of the hardest afternoons.”

  Her hand came out, covering his own. “I know it was rough. You need to remember that none of this is your fault.”

  It was difficult to think that way. He was the boss. His dad might walk into the office and everyone bowed down, but he’d left the day-to-day operations to JT for the last few years. His father was getting ready to retire. “It doesn’t feel that way. I should have seen that something was going on with Bill. I need to figure out how to take care of his family without making his wife uncomfortable. Bill’s wife is very proud. Not in a snooty way, but she’s not one to take handouts, which is why I would be shocked if she knew what Bill was doing. He was desperate. I can’t imagine what that must feel like.”

  Nina was staring at him, a sheen of tears in her eyes. “There aren’t many people in the world who could find out an employee committed an act of sabotage and still find a way to care about him.”

  He put his eyes on the road. “I believe my twin would say I’m naïve and inexperienced.”

  “Is he right? Have you been sheltered all your life?”

  “Sheltered from certain things, yes. I’ve never had to worry about money, so I don’t think much of it. But I’ve been out in the world. In my brother’s eyes, because I’ve never been a part of a military unit, I’m soft. He’s never been on an oil rig when pirates decide to show up. They’re real, you know.”

  “I do,” she replied quietly. “They’re troublesome and violent.”

  “And I was in charge of that rig. I’m in charge wherever I go.” He could still remember how scared he’d been that he would lose his workers. He was responsible for their safety. “Did I want to shoot the fuckers? Hell, yeah, I did. But I had to sit there and negotiate because we were outgunned.”

  “That was the smart thing to do,” Nina assured him. “You took care of your people.”

  And then he’d worked with some locals to take the pirates down. “I’ve had to deal with mobsters, and I didn’t speak their language. I didn’t have a team of badasses behind me. I had engineers and geologists. I’ve also seen some of the worst poverty in the world and known that everything I have would be a drop in the well of trying to cure it. But I can help Bill’s family. I can make a difference to them.”

  “You could always tell her the company took out an insurance policy on him because he was so important and replacing him would have been costly,” she suggested. “It was an outdated policy from years ago. But now you realize that money should go to them.”

  She was good at this. He wasn’t the only one who could manipulate his way around a situation. “That could work. She shouldn’t have to worry about her future when she’s in mourning. I’ll put that into play. Thanks, baby.”

  Her shoulders went straight. “You can’t call me baby.”

  He had an answer to her denial. “I thought I was supposed to call you that. You’re really more of a baby than a sweetheart. My dad calls my mom honey, so that doesn’t work. Not that you aren’t sweet.”

  She shook her head, obviously flustered again. “See, that’s what we can’t do.”

  “I thought that was what I was supposed to do. We’re getting married.”

  “We’re getting fake married.” She thought about that for a second. “No, we’re fake engaged. We’re not actually getting fake married.”

  “You’re going to leave me at the fake altar?”

  “There is no altar. Fake or otherwise.”

  “All right. You want a non-conventional fake wedding. I can make that happen.”

  A frustrated groan came from the back of her throat. “JT, we have to work together.”

  He smiled her way. “I know. I think we’re going to be good at it. I feel way better knowing you’re going in with me. Though we should talk about a couple of things. You know about Sanctum, right? It’s a lifestyle club.”

  “I work in a lifestyle club.”

  He’d been curious about this part of her life. “Are you in the lifestyle? I have Master rights at Sanctum.”

  “I have Master rights at The Garden,” she replied.

  He knew damn well that was a lie, and he wished he had the right to spank her pretty ass. “No you don’t, sub.”

 
; She kept her eyes on the road, but there was some humor in her tone. “How do you know I’m not a top?”

  “Because I topped you last night. I took control and you responded beautifully.” Knowing that she was in the lifestyle actually explained a few things to him. She had responded when he’d taken control, and she likely would enjoy more dominance when it came to the bedroom.

  “What if I told you I was a switch?”

  He wouldn’t have guessed she would like to ever top anyone during sex, but he could give it a go. After all, being a top was all about giving a bottom what they needed. “I would ask if you needed a real sub to top or if I could learn how to do that for you because I think I would have trouble watching you with someone else.”

  She was quiet for a moment. “Are you for real?”

  “Last time I checked.” He drove in silence for a moment, trying to figure out how she was feeling. “I’m not perfect. Far from it.”

  “From where I’m sitting you’re pretty close.” She shifted in her seat. “So we should talk about how this needs to go.”

  “Yes. I think we should start with some minor impact play.” He wasn’t going to have this conversation with her. Not the one about all the reasons they shouldn’t continue to sleep together. There wasn’t any reason they should stop. In fact, it would help their cover if they were sleeping together. She was clinging to some rule that didn’t need to apply to them.

  “I take back the part where I said you’re perfect. You’re obviously very thick.”

  He could turn that around, too. “I’m glad you noticed. I thought it worked well lengthwise, too.”

  She stared at him. “You think I’m talking about your dick, don’t you?”

  He did not in any way think she’d been talking about his cock, but he’d learned that hiding his intelligence could help him out in numerous ways. It was always good to be underestimated. “And I appreciate the compliment. Now let’s talk lingerie because there’s always some asshole who shows up in the early morning hours and I can’t have them thinking I force you to wear my old shirts. They’ll start to worry about my finances, and then they talk to a reporter and suddenly my stock tanks. I think there’s a La Perla here.”

  “La Perla?” She sat up straight, smoothing back her hair. “You’re not going to be serious about this, are you?”

  “I’m perfectly serious about giving you the best cover possible.”

  “It’s not going to work,” she said quietly.

  “Yeah, it will.” He was talking about exactly what she was. It would work. They could work. But she wasn’t ready to hear that yet.

  Nina went stiff, and for a moment he was worried she was going to insist they have this fight here and now. That was something he wasn’t ready for. Not even close. “JT, do you see the SUV behind us?”

  He glanced in the rearview mirror. Sure enough, there was a gray SUV behind them, a single male in the driver’s seat. “Yes.”

  “Take the next exit. I want to see if he follows.”

  He did as she asked, getting off of 75 and turning left on Mockingbird. The SUV followed close behind. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Let’s stop and have some lunch and see if he picks up after we’re done. I’ll send Big Tag the plate number just in case.” She was on her phone, texting. “I could use some Mexican. It’s the one thing I can’t get in London. I mean, obviously we have Mexican restaurants, but it’s not the same.”

  Mexican it was then. And then he would show her exactly what he had to offer her.

  Chapter Five

  Nina stood in the middle of the private dressing room that had to be meant for large bridal parties since it was the size of a small house and had two chaise lounges available for customers. She’d already been offered champagne—which she’d forced herself to turn down.

  This was JT’s world. Not hers. It couldn’t be hers.

  How had that man stayed so sweetly down to earth when he obviously lived in heaven?

  She forced herself back to the problems at hand.

  Someone was following them, and that meant she couldn’t have the conversation they needed to have. Not that he would let them have it since he seemed to deliberately misunderstand everything she said.

  “I brought five cocktail dresses for you to try on.” The salesperson strode into the room. She was perfectly dressed, a testament to her dedication to her job, which was to make sure everyone who walked in the door looked good. And expensive.

  The salesperson hung the dresses on the rack of the private dressing room they’d been shown to after they’d torn through the shoe section. Charlotte had been right. Helena knew her shoes. She now had the most spectacular pair of sexed-up Louboutins she’d ever seen. JT hadn’t let her stop there. She had ten new pairs. Apparently her sad pair of flip-flops wouldn’t do for pool time. She’d required Valentino studded sandals in three different colors.

  She didn’t even want to think about the fact that he wanted to take her to Tiffany after this and buy her a ring that would likely require its own security detail.

  Not her. Fake fiancée her.

  She would pay him back for the clothes, but they would be returning that ring.

  “Let me know if you need anything.” The salesperson stopped at the door, her voice going low. “Just so you know, your man is the sweetest thing. He told us to bring you anything you wish and to treat you like you’re the most important person in the world. Because that’s what you are to him. So sweet.”

  Yep, he was a charmer. He was sweet and gorgeous and rich as sin. He seemed to genuinely care about the people around him, and he was thick in both head and cock.

  “He’s the best.” She shut the door and took a deep breath.

  He was definitely the best at making her crazy. He’d been beyond attentive. He’d held her hand at lunch, his thumb stroking the pulse point on her wrist, making her go all soft and gooey. He’d claimed they should do it because their stalker might be watching.

  He made her wish this was something more than cover for an op.

  Why can’t it be? It’s obvious he’s into you. You’re crazy about him. Why not let yourself try again? Yes, you made a mistake with Roger, but that doesn’t mean you punish yourself forever. JT isn’t Roger. He wouldn’t lie to you.

  She barely knew the man, but she was already certain he would never lie to her. Maybe she was the naïve one.

  Her mobile buzzed and she looked down at a text from Big Tag.

  Your stalker is a pro. PI named Howard Benson. Someone’s looking into you. We’ve had hits all over on your cover. Expect that he’s got eyes on you. Fun fact—he’s worked for Malone Oil before, so ask your new boy toy if he’s told the parents the happy news. Congrats on your fake engagement. Try not to get fake pregnant.

  Damn it. She would bet on the admin. It hadn’t taken her long to start looking into the new girl. The question became was Deanna protecting her boss or her own turf? It would make a big difference in how she handled the woman.

  She needed to pick a couple of dresses and get back to the office. The office would be an excellent place to hide from JT. She might even be able to hole up in one of the offices and get some advice from the ladies on how to lose a guy she really, really didn’t want to lose.

  Of course, if she went back to the office, the PI would know something was up. It made perfect sense to go there once. Her fake fiancée’s brother worked there. They could play it off that way. But spending hours up there on her own would be suspicious.

  Things had gotten much more complex. No one would have thought about David Malone’s assistant. She would have been one more worker. As JT’s fiancée, she would be center stage.

  Should she pull out?

  “You doing okay in there?” JT’s deep voice came through the door of the dressing room.

  “It depends,” she whispered. “Do you know a man named Howard Benson?”

  “The private investigator?”

  She opened the do
or because this was a conversation they needed to have very quietly. “Yes. Why do you need an outside private investigator? You have a whole firm of them.”

  He walked in and closed the door behind him. “I didn’t hire him. Deanna did during her divorce. She didn’t want to use McKay-Taggart because they’re damn expensive. I offered to help pay for it, but she can be stubborn. She thought her husband was cheating. He was. On her and his girlfriend.”

  Well, at least she knew who’d hired the PI and why Deanna was so touchy. “He’s the man following us. Are you sure your relationship with this woman is strictly professional?”

  His eyes had gone innocently wide. “I’ve never touched her. Not once. I don’t think I’ve ever even helped her out of a car.”

  She stared at him.

  “I’m serious. Never touched her. Never been anything but professional with her. She’s abrupt but effective,” he explained.

  “She’s rude.”

  “She’s direct. I wanted to fire her in the beginning and my dad took me aside and asked me why. I told him she was abrasive. He asked me if I would say the same thing about a man in her position. I gave her more time and looked at her differently. She’s good at her job. I don’t care that she’s not what a female assistant is supposed to be. If I asked her to get my coffee there would likely be poison in it, but if I direct her to push through a multimillion-dollar deal with a jackhole who’s trying to tie me up in red tape, she gets it done. I can get my own coffee.” He seemed to deflate. “All that said, she did seem jealous today.”

  She’d seemed more than jealous. “I think we can assume she set the PI on us. Have you talked to your parents? Would she call and ask about me?”

  “Turn around.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you still need to buy swimsuits,” he said. “Let me help you try these on.”

  She sent him a pointed look.

  “I’ve already seen everything, and we should talk about this in private in case the PI is lurking.”

  He was right. And he had seen everything. She turned and let him deal with the zipper she always struggled with. “Fine. Talk.”