City Under Siege

by R. J. Prescott

  “Well, shit. You’ve fallen for her, haven’t you? Do you have any idea how royally fucked you are? Even if by some miracle we get through this operation and she gets to go back to her normal life, what then? Happy ever afters don’t work for guys like us. You think she’ll settle for a few weeks a year where you’re not training or in combat? Maybe pop out a couple of kids who turn out to be strangers because you never get to see them grow up? And even if she goes along with that, where do you fit into her world? You’re a fucking orphan, and she’s a millionaire.”

  “Jesus Christ! Enough!” I protested. “I’ve never even kissed the girl, and you’ve got me married with kids and divorced already. Don’t you think I’ve thought about all of that? I’ve been fighting this since the day I fucking met her, and even if I could find a way to make it work, she’s too fucking good for the likes of me. But her life is mine to protect. Mine to watch over. I was made for war, and it’s what I’ll wage to bring her peace. If I need to walk away after that, I will, but until then, I’ll be fucked if I’m handing her over to someone who cares more about promotion than her life.”

  “Beautiful speech. Very moving,” Will replied, grinning.

  “Laugh it up, fucker. Let’s see how fucking funny you find it when you fall for someone you can’t have.”

  “Stop. Honestly, there’s tears in my eyes. I feel like we should write some of this shit down. Then when some fucking terrorist shoots you in the head because you were too busy with your head up your arse mooning over this chick to pay attention, we can retell the whole thing as a modern take on Romeo and Juliet. Maybe even get a movie deal out of it.” He was practically pissing himself with laughter, as he wiped away the fake tears.

  Not bothering to reply, I gave him both middle fingers, which made him laugh even harder. Everything he said made sense, and it was nothing I hadn’t told myself a million times before. But this thing between us was stronger than logic or reason or even common sense. The truth was, when there were a hundred reasons to let go, she was the only reason I needed to hold on.

  Having fiddled with my black bow tie until it was damn near perfect, I reached for my tux jacket. It wasn’t like I’d never dressed up before. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t avoid every university function and mess dinner, but it wasn’t a skin that fitted me well. I was more at ease in the shadows, waiting and watching from the darkness. For Sarah, I would walk in the light. I knew that she was dreading tonight, but just like always, she squared her shoulders, put her chin up, and got on with it. With the monkey suit on, I slid the wires through for my cuff mike and fitted a discrete little earpiece. Just as I closed my own bedroom door, Sarah’s opened.

  “Wow,” I said, and instantly she blushed. If I ever had the chance, I’d catalogue every which way there was of making those cheeks turn pink. I tried to think of any adjective to describe the way she looked, but I had nothing. Stunned into silence, I could do little more than gawk. Man, she was fucking gorgeous. The gown was wine red, with capped sleeves and a simple round neckline. It fitted to every curve of her body before flaring out at the skirt. The front was covered with tiny red crystals so that every time moved, she caught the light. She was absolutely breath-taking.

  And then she twirled for me. The dress was completely backless, stopping just above the curve of her arse. Never in my life had I considered a woman’s back to be the sexiest part of her body. I was wrong on every level. The lightly sun-kissed skin, the arch of her back, even the contour of her shoulder blades had me hard as a rock. I knew then, with absolute certainty, that I was going to kiss every inch of it one day.

  Soon.

  “You look amazing,” she said to me.

  “You look fucking incredible.”

  Her breath hitched as she caught the intensity of my gaze. The invisible, impenetrable thread that had formed between us the moment we met was now a rope that pulled us closer together every day. We’d played tug of war with it for long enough. Stalking towards her, I felt an overwhelmingly animalistic need to claim her as my own, to let every man out there, who even thought about speaking to her, know that she was mine.

  Intimidated by the ferocity of my pursuit, she took a step backwards just as I reached her. The craving to lift her into my arms and carry her to bed was overpowering, but I fought against it. She needed tender and gentle from a man that was anything but. Bracing one hand on the doorframe above her, I gripped it so hard I thought it might crack, as I eliminated the space between us and let my other hand sweep its way along the dips and curve of her spine. She was perfection, and her reaction only added fuel to the fire. Like she was born for my touch and my touch alone, wherever my hand was, that part of her body arched towards me. Closing her eyes, she gripped the lapels of my tux and sighed against me. That breathy moan would be my undoing. Bending my head, I ran my nose lightly along the side of her neck. Her scent was sexy and subtle, and I filled my lungs as I tried to memorise it, knowing instinctively it would smell differently from the bottle. As with everything else, she took it and made it her own. Cupping the globe of her perfect arse, I pressed her harder against my body, letting her feel every inch of her effect on me. We had yet to kiss, but it was still the single most erotic thing I had ever experienced. Because the moment wasn’t just about sex. It was about so much more. It was a promise of the passion and pleasure and everything I had yet to experience with someone I cared about. It destroyed the notion that meaningless encounters with faceless women would ever be satisfying again, because I couldn’t imagine anything comparing to this.

  “Do you think anyone would mind if I marked you just here?” I whispered, touching my lips to the peach-soft skin of her neck.

  “I wouldn’t,” she replied breathlessly.

  “Ready at the gate,” came the crackle followed by the voice in my earpiece.

  “Motherfucker,” I muttered. Touching my forehead against hers, I tried desperately to regain my composure.

  “Soon,” she said.

  “Soon,” I agreed.

  Since I’d moved in, the team had complete access to the main gate and keys to all the doors. When Sarah was home, only Eli, posing as her chauffer and additional security, ever came to the door. He knocked to respect her privacy, but no longer bothered with the formality of buzzing at the main gate. The downside to this was that he was at the entrance long before I was ready to leave.

  “Come on. Let’s get this over with,” she said, threading her fingers though mine, squeezing them ever so slightly. I led her downstairs and opened the door for her as she grabbed her clutch bag from the side table.

  “Hi!” she greeted Eli.

  He let out a long wolf whistle as he took in her dress, and she curtseyed as she giggled. My first instinct was to slap him upside the head for looking at her that way, but the smile on her face took my breath away. For the first time since I’d met her, she looked happy. I locked the door as Eli helped her into the car. She knew the protocol and said nothing for the first few miles, but neither of us could stop the little touches that no one could see. Usually there was at least a foot between us, but tonight our legs were pressed up against each other. Her hands, hidden behind Eli’s seat, rested in her lap. Reaching over, I turned up her palm and slid my fingers between hers. Back and forth we caressed each other, finding erogenous zones in the most unlikely of places. This prolonged foreplay between us was the most intensive kind of sexual torture. I’d only ever indulged in sex that was hard and fast and completely forgettable. How naive I was not to realise that it was these hidden touches and secret caresses that would burn their way into my soul forever.

  Will’s voice in my ear broke the spell and brought me back down to reality with a crash.

  “You’re not going to like this, boss, but you’re about to make a stop,” he said, and a feeling of foreboding came over me.

  “Talk to me, Will,” I said, into my cuff.

  “You’re picking up Masterson. He’s Sarah’s date for the evening,” he repli
ed.

  “You’re fucking kidding me!” I felt my anger building uncontrollably at the thought of that dickless wonder anywhere near her. I’d seen the way he looked at her at the briefings and knew that this was no coincidence. The slimy fucker had engineered this somehow. “Why wasn’t I informed?”

  “Why do you think? MI5 submitted the request shortly after we left, and Davies signed off on it. Sarah’s going to be photographed from the minute she gets out of the car. Masterson’s an analyst, not a field agent, so it doesn’t matter if he’s pictured with her, but you don’t have that luxury. So for tonight, you slip in unnoticed and act as her close protection whilst being as inconspicuous as possible. Davies gets a man in the field, some distance between you and Sarah, and keeps MI5 happy. It’s a done deal, my friend,” Will explained.

  “Fuck,” I muttered, furious that the evening had gone completely to shit.

  “You got this handled?” he asked. “Because you have less than two minutes before the car stops. He’s going to be pushing your buttons all night, so you need to make sure you have this locked down.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” I told him, before dropping my hand.

  “Tom?” Sarah asked quietly, her happy expression now replaced with one of apprehension.

  “Trust me?” I asked, and without hesitation, she nodded her reply.

  Sarah

  “What’s going on?” I asked him.

  “Simon Masterson’s about to join us. MI5 put in a request for him to escort you to the function. My job depends on protecting my identity, so they don’t want me to be photographed.”

  “I understand that, but why not just let me go alone? Why make someone I’ve never been seen with before be my date?”

  “I guess they think you being seen with someone else takes the focus off me. Believe me, I’m not any happier about this than you are,” he replied.

  I looked down at our hands and tried to focus. I’d been so caught up in the chemistry between us, I hadn’t stopped to think about what it would be like without Tom by my side.

  “Hey, I’m still going to be there you know. Guarding over you and making sure you’re safe. Only now I get to focus all my attention on you tonight rather than making you laugh with my pathetic attempts at small talk,” he teased. Tom wasn’t the sort of man to tease. Minutes ago, I could practically feel the violence vibrating from him in waves. He was putting on a front, and he was doing it for me. Tonight was all part of the job, and whether we stood side by side or a few steps behind the other, we were in this together.

  “You’re right,” I agreed. “Let’s get this done and out of the way. But first I need to do something. Can I please speak to Will?”

  He looked at me with some amusement, but held out his cuff for me to talk into.

  “Will, can you hear me?” I asked, feeling a little foolish at talking to a hand. Tom nodded at me as Will spoke to him in his earpiece.

  “Can you please inform your superior officer that whilst Tom may be part of the British Army, I am not. My cooperation here is completely voluntary. I don’t take orders and I don’t appreciate having dates or companions scheduled for me without my consent, especially if you’re expecting me to smile like an idiot and pose for photographs. If you wouldn’t mind passing on the message, I’d be very grateful,” I said, before huffing quietly and wishing that Tom’s senior officer were actually here so that I could yell at him in person.

  Tom smiled at whatever Will said back to him, and if nothing else, I knew I’d taken a little of the wind out of his sails.

  “Don’t ever change, buttercup,” he said to me as the car rolled gently to a stop.

  Tom climbed out and moved into the passenger seat. We were still in the same car and already I missed him. Holding the door open, Eli waited patiently for Simon to settle himself in the back. I thought it rude the way he completely ignored them both, but neither of them seemed bothered. In fact, Eli seemed downright amused by Simon’s presence.

  “How wonderful to see you again,” Simon gushed. “And I must say, you look absolutely ravishing.”

  The weather was far too cold for a simple shawl, so I’d opted for a thick black coat. There wasn’t a great deal visible for him to find “ravishing,” but I appreciated the compliment.

  “Thank you, Simon. That’s kind of you to say.”

  “Not kind at all, I assure you. I mean every word. I must say, I was rather pleased to have the opportunity to be able to spend some time with you socially. I’m afraid that our previous meetings have, out of necessity, been a little serious,” he said.

  I must have misheard. I was tied up with Russian gangsters who were using me to transport arms to terrorists, and he was dismissing the reason for our association like it was nothing at all.

  “I believe this evening is just as serious as our other meetings have been. Being photographed, watched, and recorded everywhere I go is not my idea of fun I’m afraid.”

  “No, I would imagine not, Sarah. But let’s do our best to forget all that tonight, shall we? A few drinks and a little dancing should help.”

  I was quite sure my jaw literally dropped open. I had no idea what Tom and Eli were thinking, because I couldn’t stop staring at Simon. When Tom told me he’d be joining us, I considered that this could be MI5’s response to my going home with Tom. That perhaps this was their way of helping me to stay on point and maintain my cover story, the fiction of the part I was supposed to play. It never occurred to me that Simon might actually consider this to be some warped version of a date.

  I was still trying to think of an appropriate way to respond when we pulled up at the beautiful turn-of-the-century hotel that was to be the venue for this event. As Aunt Elizabeth promised, a gaggle of photographers was in attendance, though in deference to the cold, the red carpet and backdrop for photographs had been laid out inside. Eli helped me out of the car, and within seconds, Tom was standing a discrete distance behind me. Walking alongside Simon up the steps to the hotel, I turned back just in time to see Eli drive away.

  “He’ll be back when we need him,” Tom assured me. The glass turnstile was a wonderful window into the majesty of the historic building that had recently been renovated, bringing it back to its former glory.

  “Wow,” I exclaimed, looking up at the dome ceiling and gilded mouldings.

  “Pretty fancy, huh?” Tom replied, sharing my appreciation of the amazing view. It disappointed me to see so many people walking around, and not a single one taking a moment to appreciate the magnificence and grandeur of this amazing sight. I wondered if that might have been my fate if I hadn’t walked away from the family money and everything it represented, to make my own way in the world. Would I have become so conditioned to wealth and opulence that I missed the beauty in the everyday?

  “Can we get a picture, Miss Tatem?” one of the photographers asked.

  “Of course,” I said, smiling tightly, hating that I had to put on a show.

  “Why don’t I take care of your coat and you can make them all fall in love with you,” Tom whispered so that only I could hear.

  “I’ve been dreading this part all day. I’m so rubbish at smiling for pictures. Somehow I always look like I’m in pain,” I admitted.

  “Try picturing Dickless over there posing naked in front of the mirror. That should keep you laughing long enough for them to get their shot,” he suggested as he nodded towards our companion. Following his gaze, I watched Simon alternate between checking out the red carpet line and perfecting his hair and tie in his glass reflection. It occurred to me then that his appearance tonight had absolutely nothing to do with me. It was about the parts of me that were completely meaningless. The money. The society connections. The company. Not one of those things defined who I was in any way. As far as I was concerned, they stopped me from being who I was meant to me. It was an anathema to me that anyone would covet them. While he was distracted by his own vanity, I gave Tom a cheeky wink and sauntered to the spot the photog
rapher indicated. Twisting and posing, I let them snap shot after shot of me smiling naturally as I took Tom’s advice. After that, I gave a few of them soundbites about how much I relished taking over my father’s work and guiding the company towards a bright future. When I was done, Simon’s face was practically puce.

  “I was hoping to accompany you on the red carpet,” he commented. “I know how much you detest being in the limelight, and I wanted to be there for you to lean on.”

  “Don’t worry, Simon. Having you here was actually really helpful,” I replied, a glimmer of mischief in my smile as I caught Tom’s eye. Somewhat mollified, his face returned to a normal colour, and he offered me his arm as guests began to file into the main function room.

  Accepting a glass of champagne from a passing waiter for Dutch courage, I imagined that it was a stronger arm that I was holding on to, one that cared more for me than my money. My circuit around the hall wasn’t nearly as painful as I imagined. I conversed with the people I recognised from the funeral first and discovered that they were actually an eclectic group of people. The weight of the chip on my shoulder about Dad’s ethics and the corruption of wealth had me making sweeping generalisations about a crowd of people I assumed were all the same. It was slightly shaming to converse with couples who genuinely wished me well, knowing that I had completely misjudged so many of them under the umbrella of my father’s character.

  Tom seemed to slip effortlessly into the crowd, but I always felt him close by, his presence giving me the confidence to keep going. By the time we were seated for dinner, I’d even begun to relax slightly—until Simon realised that my dress was backless. He was seated alongside my Aunt Elizabeth at dinner, and spent a great deal of time engaging with her and playing to her vanities in a way that he had tried to do with me. At first I presumed he was trying to redirect her ceaseless ire away from me. Quickly, it became apparent that he was trying to win her over for his own cause. Even then I was unfazed, until his efforts to include me in the conversation seemed to involve him touching my lower back frequently, something that was making me extremely uncomfortable.