His Devil's Heat

by Linzi Basset

  “Yeah, but once it hits you, you are defenseless. Let’s hope you recognize it, Rhone. Samantha might love you, but unrequited emotions tend to fuck up a relationship.”

  “I’m hoping Samantha is strong enough and patient enough for both of us, Keon.”

  “Seems we’re both in the same boat this time, mate. I have to admit, I don’t like the thought of Lauren scening with other Doms. I don’t like it one bit.”

  “And yet, you allowed Max and Jack to punish her the other night?” Rhone teased.

  “It’s not the same and you know it. I’m talking a full scene, not controlled punishment, with me in attendance.”

  “Well, that in itself says more than you’d like to admit, mate. You weren’t this conservative with Amelia.”

  Keon didn’t respond. It had been on his mind as well. Amelia and he had scened openly with others but with Lauren, it was different. He wanted to be the one to awaken her body.

  * * * * * * * *

  “Testing, one, two, three,” Richard’s teasing voice crackled in their ears.

  “Bit late now, mate,” Keon grumbled. They were hunched down behind bushes, across the street from Adam Baxter’s house. “I don’t see any movement.”

  “Because there isn’t anyone guarding the house. The CIA only has satellite surveillance. They have no reason to believe anyone would break into a dead man’s house.” Richard said dryly.

  “How long before we can go in?” Rhone wanted to know, checking his watch. It was two in the morning.

  He glanced up the street which winded over the hill. This was an affluent residential area.

  “I find it strange that the CIA never questioned Baxter’s ability to afford such a house in this kind of neighborhood. He was a senior official. There’s no way his income could allow for this. Don’t they keep track of that as part of their internal security?” Rhone wondered aloud.

  “Yeah, they began doing that in the past couple of years, but I did some digging. Most of Baxter’s money is hidden in offshore accounts and investments. He created a couple of aliases for himself over time. One thing I’ve got to hand the fucktard, he’s as cunning as hell.” Richard said. “Right, mates. You’re good to go. I’ve hacked into the satellite and I’m running a pre-recorded surveillance on a loop. Oh, the security company does an hourly ride-by, so keep away from windows and your flashlights low.”

  “Got it. Let’s go, Rhone.”

  They entered the house, keeping low and within minutes entered the study. Their search was a lot faster and more meticulous than Samantha’s had been a couple of weeks ago. But, it was something they did often and knew what to look for.

  They took the Sixth Order files. They also found Precision Secure files in a hidden compartment in the desk.

  “Rhone, I just detected a signal being sent out from the bedroom. It wasn’t there before. It’s coming from the wall facing the back garden. Maybe another safe that’s linked to the security company?” Richard pondered while he tried to pinpoint the source.

  “Can you intercept the signal? If it’s linked to a security company, it means there’s something in there he didn’t want anyone to know about,” Rhone asked as they made their way to the back of the house.

  “On it. It’s a tricky one but I’ll crack it. Just need a couple more minutes. In the meantime, stay out of the bedroom, just in case. I have picked up a couple of security enhancements he’d done after Samantha’s . . . err . . . visit.”

  While they waited they searched the rest of the house but found nothing.

  “All clear,” Richard’s voice crackled in their ears.

  They found the safe behind a life size painting of a naked woman above the bed.

  “Kinky. Must’ve used her to jerk off, I imagine,” Keon snorted.

  “Hm, this is a very modern safe; custom designed lock. Any ideas, Richard?” Rhone asked. Their night goggles streamed front facing video feed to Richard.

  “I’ve seen these before. They usually need a thumbprint or an eye scan.”

  “Fuck, you’re right. It’s an eye scanner. And is there a way to override it?” Keon queried. “What’s this?” He flicked open a small hidden compartment in the lower corner. Voila! It’s a keypad.”

  “Well now, that’s strange. It means he made provision for not being able to use the eye scanner. I’ve never seen this before,” Richard pondered aloud.

  “Do your magic, mate,” Rhone instructed. “Adam is a creature of habit. Try the obvious; his date of birth, that kind of thing.”

  It took less than five minutes for the safe to click open.

  “Got it. He uses the same password everywhere.” Richard laughed. “Stupid ass.”

  “Rhone, you’ve got to see this,” Keon’s voice had deepened in shocked surprise.

  Rhone looked at the two files he had in his hands and flicked through the contents.

  “And then there’s this too,” Keon opened the small silver square case he’d just lifted from the safe.

  “Holy shit!” Richard exclaimed. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Uncut diamonds and probably worth millions.” Rhone confirmed. “But I’m more concerned with what’s in these files. Wherever Adam Baxter is, he’s just become a real danger to the people of the United States.”

  “I think the two are connected, Rhone. He probably needs these diamonds to pay for whatever he intends to do with the contents of these files.”

  “You’re right. We need—”

  “Heads up, mates. Someone just pulled into the driveway and opened the garage doors. The person is on his way inside,” Richard warned while quickly checking the number plates. “The vehicle belongs to . . . fuck me, Damien Whittaker?”

  “The CEO of Black Diamond Corporation?” Rhone asked while he quickly stuffed the files and silver case in the bag.

  Keon closed the safe and flipped the painting back in place before they pushed the bed back against the wall. They slipped inside the massive walk-in closet and waited.

  “Yes, the one and only. Samantha uncovered Whittaker’s link to the Sixth Order last time she was here.”

  Keon and Rhone didn’t respond. They could hear footsteps falling heavily on the wooden floor of the hallway leading to the bedroom.

  The closet had slatted doors, so they could watch as the shadowed figure entered the room, his flashlight homed in on the large painting. He glanced around conspicuously.

  Richard grunted. “Bingo. Just what I needed. A good face shot.”

  The man labored to pull the bed away from the wall. It was a heavy wooden framed bed, granted, but a man of Damien Whittaker’s posture shouldn’t struggle with it. Except if he was somewhat weakened. “Fucking bastard,” his guttural voice sounded in the room. He leaned closer and cursed viciously when the eye scanner blinked red.

  Rhone and Keon glanced at each other and Richard sarcastically stated their thoughts out loud. “Now why would Whittaker think his eye would open the safe?”

  “The fucking bastard. He will pay for this. One way or the other,” Adam muttered irritably. He was wearing color contact lenses which didn’t work with eye scanner. He didn’t have the time to remove the lenses, so stabbed in the code to unlock the safe instead.

  He reached inside and the men watching noticed how his body went rigid. He shone the flashlight inside and it was evident that he was shocked mute. “I don’t believe this. Who could’ve known about this safe?” He sank down on the bed behind him; his shoulders slumped dejectedly. “It can’t be him. No fucking way.”

  He lowered his head into his hands. “I’m fucked. Totally fucked!” Then he sat upright and an evil laugh cackled in the air. “No, I’m not.” He closed the safe and put the room back to its former state.

  He left the room, whistling a happy tune by Dixie. Keon and Rhone waited until Richard confirmed he’d driven away before they left the closet.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking, mates?” Richard asked. They could hear the disbelief in
his voice.

  “I think we are. He might look like Damien Whittaker, but that man is none other than Adam Baxter,” Rhone grated through thin lips.

  “I don’t understand. Why did you allow him to leave?” Richard wanted to know.

  “Because now we know where to find him and he has no reason to hide. No mate, now, for the first time, we have the upper hand and Adam Baxter, or Damien Whittaker, whoever the fuck he claims to be. He is about to find out what it feels like to be the hunted.”

  “I agree, Chuck. We can’t rush into this. We need to plan his demise very carefully. There is no way Adam Baxter is going to escape us again. No fucking way.”

  They were on their way home before Keon approached the subject of the files they’d found.

  “What are we going to do with this information, Chuck?”

  “We need to examine the contents properly. From the brief glance I took, it seems like a detailed plan to assassinate the President of the United States and it implicates the Sixth Order. Either he’s trying to set them up or they have a political agenda of their own. I’ll chat with Alex, but I’ll be damned if I know who to trust at this stage and that includes the directors of the CIA and the FBI.”

  “I agree, but we better act quickly. Baxter might have a new face, identity and life but inside, he’s still the same corrupt fucktard. I’m not all that convinced that he’ll leave Lauren and Samantha alone. Especially if he needs the best sniper he knows to do his dirty work.”

  “Ace,” Rhone acknowledge, his voice was bitter and chilled like the frost on an early winter’s morning.

  * * * * * * * *

  An hour later Rhone slipped quietly into the bed and cuddled against Samantha’s back. She turned and wrapped herself around him. He locked his arms behind her back and held her tight. His heart hammered in his chest as he recalled Keon’s words. His jaw turned rigid at the danger Adam Baxter once again presented to her.

  Rhone couldn’t envision his life without her. She’d brazenly crawled into his existence. He was in awe of her love for him. It was there for everyone to see. He wanted to give her the same and tell her in flowery words. But it always came down to the questions he was dissecting and eliminating in his mind.

  What is love? What does it feel like? And how do I know it’s real and won’t wither and die?

  He sighed heavily; his arms tightened around her. He needed was more time.

  “I’ll keep you safe, luv. He won’t get you.”

  It was a vow Rhone intended to keep.

  * * * * * * * *

  Baloo growled when Keon entered Beckie’s room. His tail thumped heavily on the carpet when he sensed who it was, before he relaxed.

  Beckie murmured softly and turned on her side. Keon stared at her face, lit up in the silvery moonlight beaming through the window

  Innocence. Love. Happiness. Childhood. It was all reflected on her face. So different from the haunted girl she’d been when they’d arrived. He often thought about what he’d lost, even now with her here, safe and in his care.

  He sighed deeply. It was time to bury the sadness. Amelia wouldn’t want it any other way. Their happiness had been the most important thing to her. It was there for him now; a path that promised new beginnings.

  It was time to make new memories.

  He placed a soft kiss on Beckie’s cheek and with a quick pat on Baloo’s head, he walked down the hallway. His footsteps hesitated when he neared Lauren’s room. Her door was slightly ajar, like always, in case Beckie needed her during the night.

  Keon didn’t make a conscious decision, but found himself next to her bed, staring at the ethereal angel splayed on the bed. Her red hair was spread over the pillow and her face, as serene as always.

  “No,” she whimpered, her legs began to move restlessly as she kicked off the covers.

  His eyes followed the curvaceous body as she turned this way and that.

  “Stop. I beg you, stop,” she croaked.

  Keon sat down next to her and brushed her hair from her face.

  “Easy, Red. You’re having a nightmare,” he soothed in a deep voice.

  “No. Not again. Not that. Oh god, I’m sorry! Please don’t . . . ahh!”

  She shot upright, looking around wildly while she struggled to find her breath. Her gaze settled on him and she scuttled back against the headboard, shaking her head.

  “No! No!”

  “It’s okay, Red. You had a nightmare. It’s me, Keon,” he repeated.

  “Keon?” She whimpered and the next moment flung herself into his arms. He held her trembling body close.

  Just what the fuck did Adam do to her over the years?

  “Shh, it’s okay, little one. You’re safe now. I won’t let him get close to you. Never again.”

  “Promise?” She asked in a small voice.

  “I promise. Now, go back to sleep.”

  Her arms tightened around his neck. “I . . . don’t want to be alone. Please, stay with me,” she begged sweetly and then held her breath expectantly.

  Keon knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t leave her upset. Her body still trembled and he could feel her tears against his neck.

  “I’ll stay until you fall asleep,” he conceded and settled on the bed next to her, before dragging her against his side and cuddling her close.

  Her arm circled his chest. She sighed as she felt his warmth infiltrate her chilled bones, slowly calming her down.

  He’s in my bed. Finally, I have him in my bed.

  It was the last thought in her mind before she fell asleep, tired beyond measure from the recurring nightmares that kept her awake most nights.

  Keon lay stiff as a plank, cursing the arousal that spiked through him, when her leg came to rest between his. She curled around him like a clinging vine and he couldn’t hold on to the denial any longer. Why he’d been fighting it for so long, he didn’t know. Finally, after she slipped into a deep, relaxed sleep, so trusting and warm in his arms, he acknowledged the truth.

  Lauren Francis had broken through all his defenses and wrapped her small hands around his heart. It was done so stealthily that he was still bewildered.

  Was it love? It felt different from what he’d experienced with Amelia; a lot different, but way more intense; maybe because it was mature love.

  He loved being in her company. It was like a little slice of heaven every time their eyes met, like she was an elixir for his soul.

  It’s too soon. If I take this road again, I have to know it will be forever. There are no shortcuts when it comes to love. Not for me.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lauren woke up with a start but for the first time since escaping that monster, she felt relaxed, rested. She stretched her arms high above her head and sat up.

  Her eyes fell on the indent on the pillow next to hers.

  “It wasn’t a dream,” she whispered. “He did sleep with me.”

  That’s why she’d slept so soundly, protected in his strong arms, until he’d gotten up earlier. She instinctively knew that he didn’t leave her all night. She glanced at the bedside clock. “Oh, my goodness!” She jumped up, took a quick shower and was downstairs within five minutes. The soft hum of the vacuum cleaner was coming from the living room. She found Doretta, Keon’s housekeeper, in the kitchen busy putting away dishes.

  “Oh, you’re awake. I was just about to come and wake you up with a hot cup of coffee in hand,” she said with a smile.

  “I can’t believe I slept so late. Beckie? Where is she?”

  “Mister Keon took her to school. She was brimming with excitement. Apparently, she wants to show off her warrior father.”

  Lauren shared her laughter. A little put out that she’d missed the exchange between father and daughter, but she’d needed the sleep.

  “Oh, Mister Keon wanted to let you know that he’s going straight to the office from there and will pick up Beckie from school after tennis practice.” She was busy at the stovetop while talking and pointed to the bre
akfast nook. “Sit down, Miss Lauren, your breakfast is ready. We need to get more meat on your bones,” she chuckled at the look on Lauren’s face. “According to Mister Keon, of course.”

  Lauren glanced down at herself. She was dressed in a pair of jeans, a light sweater and pumps. For the first time, she realized that she had lost some weight over the last few weeks. But the dratted man didn’t need to mention it to Doretta.

  Doretta kept the conversation going while she made sure Lauren ate every morsel she’d dished up. After breakfast Lauren walked around the house, feeling listless. She wasn’t used to being idle. Teaching had kept her busy and she’d enjoyed it. She had to convince Keon that she needed to go back to work.

  She understood his reasoning and concern for Beckie’s safety.

  “But Adam Baxter is dead, so I don’t see any reason why I can’t go back to teaching.”

  She made up her mind there and then to broach the subject again. There were many schools in the area and she might be lucky to find a job close by.

  Her cell phone rang. It was an unknown number, but the attorney had mentioned he’d call this week, so she answered the call.

  And got silence.

  “Hello? This is Lauren Francis. Who is this?”

  Breathing; softly at first, then heavier.

  Lauren felt a chill settle in her veins. She’d heard that sound in her ear many times before; right against her ear while he, Adam Baxter, fucked her.

  She ended the call and for moments stared at the cell phone with fear rising inside her until she felt like she was choking. She got up and ran outside, down the pathway toward Rhone’s house. She rattled the gate between the two properties, screaming when it wouldn’t move.

  “Let me in!”

  “Miss? Can I help you?” One of the gardeners approached her wearily.

  “Please open the gate. My sister . . . I need to get to . . .” she choked up and couldn’t talk but pointed furiously in the direction of the house. She couldn’t remember the code to unlock the gate.