Identity Crisis (Blood Brothers #4)

by Manda Mellett

  Oh shit, I’ve cocked this up. But it’s too late to wish I’d kept it in my pants. She was just too tempting, the way she dressed last night, taunting me with her suggestion she was a Domme, piling on my desire to prove her wrong. And being in the dungeon with the scents and sounds of arousal surrounding us, it had been impossible to keep lewd thoughts out of my head.

  And now we’re both going to have to pay for our indiscretion. Mine really, I was the one who made the approach. Well, what’s done is done, and all I can do is man up and deal with it.

  Not knowing how or even if I can make this right, I’ve no option but to go to see her. Returning to the room I so recently left, I cross to the bed and switch on the lamp on the bedside table, and my eyes fall on Nessa sobbing, her fist pushed into her mouth as though to stifle her cries.

  “Oh, Nessa. What have I done?” I reach down and sliding my arms under her, pull her to me. I’ve slipped on my jeans, but my chest is bare, and I can feel the wetness of her tears against my skin. Her bountiful breasts press into me, and my cock, with a mind all of its own, starts swelling. I shift so it’s not too obvious.

  Holding her to me I rock her gently, and gradually those heartrending sobs start to slow. I pass her a tissue, and she wipes the tears from her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, babe.” I don’t know what to say to her.

  I give her some time, just letting her feel the warmth of my arms surrounding her. After a few minutes, she presses against me. “It’s not on you,” her voice comes out jerky as she talks through her remaining sniffles, “I could have said no.”

  Yeah, but I’m the more experienced one. In every way. I’ve never held a woman before, except to give aftercare, never wanted to cuddle. But strangely, she seems right in my arms. Manoeuvring her with me I move up until my back is against the headboard, and she’s lying beside me, her head resting on my shoulder. I’m in no hurry to leave, however awkward the situation.

  “You were right.” Her voice sounds calmer now, “Letting go, letting you take charge. That was the most intense experience of my life.” She hiccups, then bravely gives a soft chuckle, her breath tickling my skin, “I suppose I ought to look for a Dom now.”

  I stiffen at the thought of her looking for someone else and then tamp that thought down. Although my cock would be very willing for a repeat performance, once was a big enough mistake and one I mustn’t make again. But the thought of her submitting to another man makes my hands clench. Another man feasting his eyes on that glorious body that she keeps hidden? Well, that’s like a bucket of cold water being thrown over me. The idea I could walk into Club Tiacapan and see her on a spanking bench, another man turning her bum cheeks red with his hand touching that glorious skin―I’d been right, it had coloured up beautifully under my palm. I’ve never felt possessive of a sub before, have shared subs often enough. So why are these alien thoughts coming to me now?

  Resting my chin on her head, I try to think of the right thing to say, what I should do. Is it because she’s become a friend? Am I just feeling protective of her as she so obviously can’t look after herself? Though I try to compose the words, I’m unable to offer to help her find a suitable man to dominate her. And what’s even weirder, I’m finding it hard to walk away and return to my own room. I want to stay here, with her she fits so easily up against me. To my surprise, I search for an excuse so I can remain longer, and try to dredge up something to say.

  But she gets in there first, “Sean, Do you wish you’d been involved? In Danielle’s pregnancy?” she probes.

  That’s a difficult question. I take a moment before responding, “Yes, and no. To see a woman’s belly swelling with my child, to be there at the birth? Fuck, yeah, that would be good. But Danielle? She was fun, Nessa, and we clicked for the night in bed, but that’s all it was. There’s something off about her, something wrong. I don’t particularly like the woman now I’ve had a glimpse into who she is. If I were to choose the mother of my child, I wouldn’t have chosen her.”

  She’s quiet for a moment, but I can feel her head dipping up and down as she agrees with what I’ve told her. “Do you hate her for what she did?”

  Another difficult question. I hate that she took my choice away, but… I speak my thoughts aloud, “Hate her? How could I? She gave me Mollie. Dislike the person she is? Certainly.”

  I feel her grow tense as I mention my child’s name, something I’ve noticed before. “What is it, Nessa? Why don’t you like me talking about her?”

  Dampness on my chest is the only sign she’s crying again. Placing my hand under her chin, I lift her head to face me, not surprised to see tears glistening in her eyes. She pulls away, hiding against my pectorals once again.

  “Please, Sean, I’m alright now. I’ve just got bad taste in men; that’s all.” As she feels me pulling back from her, she adds, quickly, “No, I don’t mean I don’t like you, I do. I value our friendship, and I want to go on working with you. But as a bed partner, well, I’ve been there, done that, and enjoyed it. I won’t be making the mistake of thinking there’s anything more to it than that.”

  “I enjoyed it too,” I tell her, softly, and it’s the truth. And something cuts me inside as she takes the initiative and denies wanting a repeat performance.

  She huffs a laugh; it comes out as a snuffle, “Sean, don’t worry, I know what happened between us is what it is, a one night stand. You don’t need to have any concern on that score. I know that’s all I can expect.”

  All at once I feel angry. Angry with her that she thinks that’s who I am, and fury at myself that she’s right. And all I want to do is to lie her back down and show her that she’s wrong. And that would be the biggest mistake of all.

  “I want to go to sleep now, Sean. On my own.” She tries to dismiss me.

  I’d thought she was asleep when I left her earlier. If I’d know she was going to wake, I’d have stayed with her. The way we came together, the way she submitted to my domination, like any sub she should have had the aftercare that I should have provided. Realistically, I muse, that’s the reason for her tears, she’d come down hard after an intense experience. That’s all it is. And now I’ve comforted her; she’s back to her old self again. If there can be any going back after this.

  Smoothing my hand over her face, I look her in the eye. She returns my gaze steadily, as though trying to impress on me that she wants to be left alone. I’m out of my comfort zone, wanting to be her friend, if not something more. I can truthfully say I’ve never fucked a colleague before. She seems composed, so placing a gentle but platonic kiss to her forehead I disentangle myself from her arms and get off the bed. At the door, I turn, she gives me a nod and a little smile, and a dismissive wave of her hand so I leave.

  Back in my room, I get under the covers I turned back another lifetime ago, and slip under the sheets. But it’s a very long time before I fall asleep.

  I wake to sounds of movement in the suite. Quickly dispensing with the morning’s ablutions, I dress and go out to find Nessa unloading a trolley that’s just been delivered. Anxiously, I look into her face, but apart from the betraying redness around her eyes, she’s pulled herself together. And better than I. Fuck, seeing her hair, not yet tamed, framing her pretty face I have the urge to take her in my arms and kiss her senseless but clamp my hands to my sides to avoid doing anything so stupid. It would only suggest I want a relationship with her. And even if that was my desire, her dismissive words last night suggested I’d be the last man she’d look to for that.

  “Hey, Sean,” she glances up when she notices me, “I didn’t know what you’d want, so I ordered a bit of everything.” It’s a typical continental breakfast with croissants and rolls, jams and fruit. Not a man’s breakfast, in my opinion, give me bacon and eggs any day. But there’s coffee there, and I reach for a cup and fill it.

  “Thanks, Nessa.” I’m about to say more when my phone pings. Looking down, I read the incoming text to find I’m saved by the bell. “Hunter’s on his wa
y. He’s in the hotel now.”

  She’s nodding, it seems her mind is as last back on the job. Moving on from last night seems to have been easier for her than I’m finding it myself.

  While we’re waiting for him to arrive I go into my room and discreetly place a quick call to Mum, checking up on Mollie. I’m relieved to find she’s fine, the Calpol having helped with her sore gums and she slept through the night. As I hear her gurgling in the background, I’m suddenly eager to get back to London and see her again. In such a short time, she’s become the most important female in my life.

  The knock on the suite door brings an end to my call, and returning to the sitting room I’m pleased to see Hunter has arrived. But not so pleased to see him giving Nessa a full-on hug, and at that moment understand why Nijad is so wary of Cara’s friend. A low growl rises in my throat, but I swallow quickly to suppress it. Forcing my features into an approximation of a welcoming smile, I step forward.

  “Hunter, man. Good to see you.” My words make him break away from Nessa at last, and we shake hands.

  “Sean, how you holding up? Heard you found this Smith woman?” He slaps me on the back in a friendly manner.

  “Found her, but she got away again,” I tell him, despairingly, but don’t miss the look of concern Nessa throws me, so I give a little shake of my head to reassure her I’m not going to be explaining how. “She left something with me.” As Nessa looks puzzled, I extract the USB drive from my wallet and hand it to him.

  He turns it over in his hand examining it then his eyes flick to me, “What’s this?”

  Raking my hands through my hair, I explain succinctly, “Highly explosive, I imagine.”

  “She left it with you?” Nessa’s glaring at me, “Why didn’t you say something.” At first, her hands go to her hips, then her fingers rise to cover her mouth as the penny drops. “Bloody hell, Sean, we could be in danger if anyone knows we’ve got this!”

  “Look, fill me in, will you? What’s on that stick?” Hunter’s looking from one to the other of us, a frown settling on his face.

  “Information about Amir al-Fahri’s organisation, if Danielle is to be believed.” As Hunter’s eyes widen, and his hand opens as he stares at the tiny device in his hand as though it’s going to bite him, I continue, “I wanted your input before I did anything with it, Hunter. Who the fuck do we give this to?”

  “I’ll need to know what’s on it first,” he says. He indicates the coffee, and at my nod, pours himself some then waves at the dining table, and we cross over to it. Nessa gathers some plates and pastries and puts them in the middle. Grabbing an inadequate croissant, I dip my head toward him.

  He’s still staring at the device he’s holding as though it’s a dangerous snake. “Have you looked at it, yet?”

  When I shake my head, he shoots a pointed look toward Nessa. “Fancy doing what you do best, Van?”

  Honestly, I swear her eyes light up in excitement and her gaze settles on the stick that he is now holding out. “Gimme.” Opening and closing her fingers in the way a child might ask for a sweet, Nessa shows her eagerness to get on with the type of work she’s famed for, sorting out puzzles and cracking codes.

  Extracting his laptop from his briefcase, Hunter opens it and inserts the USB drive. It clicks and whirrs, and then a screen opens asking for a password. Nessa looks at me, “Danielle said she had the password.”

  I hadn’t remembered that, and I swore under my breath. Out loud I admit, “She didn’t give that to me.”

  With an expression that suggests she’s only mildly dissatisfied at that information, without saying another word, Nessa picks up the laptop and disappears into her room.

  Hunter grins as she walks away. “Don’t know why she wants to work in the field,” his eyes fall on the now closed bedroom door, “She’s a fucking genius with brainteasers. Don’t get me wrong; Nafisa is good, but nothing like Van. We’re going to miss her if she permanently leaves the office to take an active role.”

  He’s telling me nothing I don’t already know, and from what I’ve seen so far, she’s not going to hack working on the practical side, either. But I say nothing. Just give a jerk of my chin to show I agree.

  Knowing there’s nothing we can do for the moment, Hunter helps himself to more coffee, and a pastry. “So, Smith. What did you make of your baby mama?”

  I tell him the truth, “Huh! Not a lot to be honest. She’s a spoilt, privileged bitch playing games with everyone.”

  He’s staring at me, his eyes narrowed, “You going to be happy giving your baby back to someone like that?”

  As part of my sleepless night had been spent thinking about that very thing. I sigh deeply, then fill him in on my conversation with her, finishing up by saying, “She says she loves Mollie and I suppose she might in her way, but fuck, Hunter, wouldn’t you have expected the woman to come out and ask how her baby is as soon as she saw me? For all she knew, I’d handed her over to Social Services.”

  Another intense stare from my companion, “You want to keep her?”

  I breathe in deeply, and wipe my hand over my face, “If I don’t, as far as I see it there’s a good chance Danielle will end up in prison or dead if she keeps on the way she’s doing. How could I subject a baby to that? Will need some fucking changes to my lifestyle, but yeah, I think I want to find some way to make it work. Fuck knows how. Hunter, it’s only been a couple of days, and I miss the little mite already.”

  “Never thought I’d hear you of all people say something like that.” Hunter laughs openly now. I can understand how he’s surprised, fuck, the admission of the direction of my thoughts astounds me too.

  Getting off the more personal side of the case, we start to discuss what we already know, and the myriad of things we don’t. Over an hour passes, and then Nessa appears. We both look up at her in expectation.

  “Right, I used the Grade A software to crack the password, so we’re in.” Ness gets straight down to it. We’re still at the dining table, so she comes over and plonks the laptop down. Hunter and I draw up our chairs so we can all see it. “Sean, you read Arabic, don’t you?”

  “Not as well as I speak it.” I glance across at Hunter who doesn’t disappoint.

  “I do.”

  She throws a little nod toward him and pushes the screen in his direction. His lips move as he starts to translate the script in front of him. As he reads, his brow furrows. He flicks a glance at me, and I see his eyes have opened wide. Then he brushes his hand down his face. We’re both waiting for him to speak, and it’s not long before he does.

  “Fuck.”

  Dipping my chin, I tilt my head, “Can you expand on that, Hunter?”

  His eyes flick from one to the other of us. But it’s Nessa who takes on the role of enlightening me. “The first page is the list of contacts within Amir al-Fahri’s organisation.” She points to it. “It was a fairly easy password to guess, and possibly, all that Danielle had found and thought was on there. The rest of the info,” she points to the document Hunter’s now rapidly scanning, “That was securely encrypted. Took me a while longer to get into it.”

  The list, at least, was as I expected, even though it was possible that Danielle had been lying, and there was nothing of value on the USB at all. The thought that it was all a con had crossed my mind. But it seems she’d been telling the truth. “The list was all she told us about.”

  Nessa lifts her face up, “I doubt she found what else was there. It was hidden beneath some layers.”

  Hunter’s finished reading through, and he looks stunned, “This is gold dust…” He breaks off, then comes to a decision, “There’s no time to waste. Get Emir Kadar on the phone. A secure line.”

  “That bad?” At his nod, I don’t delay ringing Kadar’s office and explaining. A quarter of an hour later, my burner phone rings. Putting it on speaker, I put it in the centre of the table.

  “Kadar.” The emir confirms his identity with just one word. “Cara’s assured me this lin
e is clean. And for your peace of mind, the Wi-Fi is securely encrypted in your suite at the hotel; we use it sometimes when we need to discuss business in private.”

  “Good to know Kadar, thanks. I’ve got Hunter Wright and Nessa here with me. Hunter’s got some info that he thinks you need to hear.”

  “Speak.” The emir’s never one to waste words.

  Hunter leans forward, “We’ve had some intel come our way. It’s bad, Your Excellency. And it involves Amahad.”

  “I expected that when I got Sean’s call. Bad news doesn’t get better for the waiting, so you better give it to me now.” Kadar’s also a man who likes things told to him straight.

  “Amir al-Farhi has got Amahad in his sights again.”

  There’s a brief sigh; then Kadar speaks pragmatically, “Hasn’t he always? But I suspect the fact we’re having this conversation means you’re talking about a specific threat.”

  Hunter takes a second and then briefly explains how we got possession of the USB drive, “He’s going to make some hits on your tourist spots. And soon. Some of his people are heading your way if they’re not already in the country.”

  “Any specific targets?”

  “The casino is one. And the main souk is also mentioned.”

  “Fuck! Alllaena!” After his impassioned exclamation in both English and Arabic, the emir is quiet. I sit shaking my head. Kadar’s worked hard to make Amahad a tourist destination, attracting visitors from all over the world. It’s the last thing he’d want to put his country on the map as one of the places not to visit.

  “What about the oilfield, Hunter? Any threat to that or the pipeline?”

  “Not mentioned, Your Excellency. But it wouldn’t hurt to beef up security there as well.”

  “Hunter, you’ve had your hands on my sister-in-law, I think we can drop the formalities between us.”

  Hunter grins, “Thanks, …Kadar.”