Nobody_Does_It_Better_Kobo

by Lexi Blake

  And yet her eyes were wide as saucers as she looked up at the store. That almost childlike joy kicked him in the gut every time because he was the one providing the experience for her. This was a woman who wouldn’t get jaded or cynical. Who wouldn’t take for granted the little things in life. Hell, she talked to dolphins.

  “You ready to have some fun?”

  “Are you sure you want to come with me?” she asked, her eyes on the storefront. “I know you’ve got stuff to prep. I can handle this if you have work to do. I’ll call in a stylist to make sure I don’t pick up something embarrassing.”

  “I can read the new pages while you try stuff on,” he assured her. “I’ve got my tablet and I can jot down questions for Tyler Williams. He’s already sent me a list of mandatory training my character would go through and some interesting case files that can serve as backstory. Besides, I like your style. If we bring someone in, she’ll try to put you in as many trends as possible. You tend to like soft, feminine stuff. I like that, too. On you.”

  The limo drove away and they were left alone on the street. It was nice to be alone with her. He could pretend they were just another couple. He was the Dom, indulging his lovely submissive in a free-for-all shopping experience that would likely cost him six figures. Okay, maybe they would never be normal, but he liked it when they didn’t have an entourage around them.

  “Are you sure you’re not protecting your wealth?” She grinned up at him.

  He put a hand on his wallet. “Should I?”

  “Oh, yeah. I can do some damage,” she promised. “And seriously, it’s been years since I shopped this way. Well, the Santa Barbara mall version of this.”

  “I would have thought the life of a spy was filled with designer wear.”

  “See, that’s where Hollywood gets it wrong. We mostly try to fit in, not stand out. Though there was this one time when I infiltrated the king of Loa Mali’s…oh, let’s call it a harem, for lack of a better word. There was designer wear then, but mostly bikinis and lingerie. We were on this unbelievable yacht. There wasn’t a lot of evening wear.”

  He stopped, his brain working overtime. “The king of Loa Mali? The one who got married recently? What do you mean by harem? And how would you work in a bikini?”

  She started toward the store. “Oh, I can work in a bikini. It makes hiding weapons a lot harder, but it forces one to be more creative. I killed this dude with a straw from one of those coconut drinks once. I had to. That string bikini was useless when it came to hiding a gun. And yes, it was that king, and maybe I shouldn’t tell you these stories.”

  “Because they’re classified?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. Because you look a little crazy pants right now.”

  Because he was jealous. Didn’t matter that she told him he couldn’t be. He fucking was. He loved her stories. She’d started telling him crazy spy stories and he would sit and listen, soaking them in without ever quite believing them. But he could see her in a harem. He might not be able to truly visualize her assassinating the heads of the five top Yakuza syndicates at a conference with an ice pick and not getting blood on her catering uniform, but he could damn straight see a kinky king picking her out of a crowd for some dirty sex. Yeah, he could see that all too well. “I don’t like thinking about you using your body like that.”

  Her brows rose. “Are you serious?”

  He shook his head. “It’s different.”

  She stopped and the joking left her face. “How is it different, Josh?”

  Shit. Was it? He reached out to the only thing he could. “Well, for one you’re not lying to me. All our cards are on the table. We know this is an exchange, but then it always is. This is an honest exchange. I bet you didn’t tell the kinky old king who you were and why you were there.”

  “No, and just for the record, he wasn’t that old. He’s only a couple of years older than me.”

  Awesome. “Also, we’re involved in a D/s relationship. Did the king give you what you needed?”

  She frowned. “He was way too gentle. And see, you call him kinky, but he wasn’t. He called me his delicate flower. I actually hated that part. Kash is a good guy, but he was a little fucked in the head in those days. And I did eventually tell him. I had to because a man working for The Collective showed up, blew up Kash’s lab where he’d been building an engine that ran on water, and tried to kill us all. I managed to get the king off the boat with scuba gear and the last of his research intact. And that’s totally classified.”

  He stopped, frowning because he’d heard that story before. “That sounds like that movie. Love After Death. Hey, did someone drown after she managed to switch a bomb to the bad guy’s boat, and then the hero pulled her out and made everyone leave because he didn’t know what she’d done. And then he brought her back to life?”

  That brilliant grin was back. “I have no idea how they haven’t arrested Serena yet. Probably because no one would believe it.”

  He followed her inside. “Holy shit. You were the crazy CIA double who saved Pierce Craig.”

  “I like to call him Big Tag,” she admitted and then sighed. “It smells like joy in here.”

  The well-manicured attendants were already circling like sharks, but he drew her close anyway. “Sometimes I think you’re too good to be true.”

  “Only sometimes?”

  “The other times I think you’re too crazy to be true.”

  She went up on her toes and met his eyes. “Maybe I’m both. Good and crazy, but I promise you, Josh. I am true. And you’re right. This is different.”

  When she got close to him like this it was almost impossible to not lean down and brush his lips against hers. She was right there and she would welcome his kiss. He could be normal for a moment.

  It didn’t do him any good to think like that. “If I stopped paying you would you stay with me?”

  Her stare turned serious. “Yes.”

  Why was he going down this road? He couldn’t seem to stop himself. “If I didn’t have money, would you still sleep with me?”

  “I would pay money to sleep with you, Josh.”

  A chill went through him and he stepped back.

  “Josh?” She reached out and put her hand in his. “Do you want to go somewhere and get some lunch? I don’t need clothes. I’m actually pretty stylish all on my own. We have the afternoon. Let’s go do something fun for you. I think the Dodgers are playing.”

  She killed him. This was how she fucking killed him. He knew how much she wanted those damn clothes. He’d watched her talk about designers and shit with his agent’s wife at a party they’d gone to a couple of nights before, but unlike the other women he knew, she would give up her shopping day to please him. This. This was why he said it was different with her, why the D/s part was different. In D/s, each partner had a role to play, but at the heart they were the same role—to please the other.

  She pleased him. He’d probably never had a woman in his life who pleased him the way Kayla did.

  He let go of the little ache that had come with words she hadn’t meant to wound. He brought her hand to his lips. “I want to see you in pretty clothes.” He leaned over. “Although you look best naked. Now spend some cash, baby.”

  She moved in, brushing her body against his, her head tilting up. He loved how small she was compared to him, though he knew damn well no matter what his muscles said, she was the deadly one. “Are you sure? Because I would love to make you happy. I don’t know what I said…”

  It took everything he had not to kiss her. He wondered if that was inevitable. Of course then he remembered where his lips had been and it was easier to back away. “You say all the right things. Ladies, this is the most beautiful woman in the world. Do you think your clothes are worthy of her?”

  “Mr. Hunt, she’s going to look beautiful in the new collection,” one of the circling salesladies said.

  “I think the colors this season will highlight her hair,” another said.

&n
bsp; “I don’t know. She’s gorgeous. I think she’ll make our clothes look good.” The one male salesperson stood back, eyeing her with a totally non-sexual gaze.

  “You”—he pointed to the man—“anything she wants, she gets. Now, I’m going to need a spring water and a quiet place to read. Can you do that for me?”

  As always in his life these days, the answer was yes.

  * * * *

  Three hours later, he sat in Carolina Herrera’s North Rodeo boutique as Kayla fluttered about, three saleswomen working overtime to find her things to try on. He planted himself in one of the chairs between the bookshelves that lined the walls of this part of the store.

  Three hours. Five stores. God only knew how much money he’d spent, but he liked this particular role. Indulgent Dom. That’s what he would call it. His submissive was being treated like a queen, and even then she’d found the time to pick out a new tie for him at Louis Vuitton. She’d claimed the blue reminded her of his eyes, and she’d insisted on paying for it.

  Eight-hundred dollars versus the tens of thousands he’d spent on her wouldn’t be fair in some people’s eyes, but Josh understood the difference. He had eighty million socked away and it grew every single month. Kayla was not in the same position. Eight hundred meant something to her, so in a way, it was far more precious than what he was giving her. He had a hundred ties like it, but this one would be special to him.

  Shit. When was the last time anyone had bought him a gift?

  He pulled his phone out, the screen gleaming in the low light. It was peaceful in here. He could make some notes on the script changes. Notes like who the hell wrote this? And why hasn’t he been fired yet? His DEA agent shouldn’t sound like a just-out-of-college dipshit. The dialogue was peppered with youthful slang when this was a man who’d gone through the military and was pushing forty.

  It all had to be changed and fast.

  “Mr. Hunt?”

  He looked up, expecting to see one of the saleswomen. It was their job to take care of not only Kay, but him, and he’d known at some point they would ask after his welfare. Saleswomen and men in Beverly Hills were the best trained in the world. They knew when to offer and when to step back.

  And these were no different, every single one of them paying attention to Kayla as he’d asked. If he’d taken every glass of champagne he’d been offered today, he would be drunk. Unlike his girl over there. He glanced her way, but she was staring at a cocktail dress. She’d had way too much champagne and there she was, steady as a rock. His girl could handle her liquor. He would give that to her. He glanced up and the woman wasn’t wearing a name tag, but sometimes managers didn’t. “I’m fine, but you might see if Kayla wants a glass of champagne.”

  If he got her tipsy, maybe they could play a game in the limo on the way back. She could be the naughty wife who’d bought way too many clothes and would be forced to pay her hubby back the only way she could…

  “I’m not an employee, Mr. Hunt.” She was a tall blonde, maybe in her mid-thirties. Utterly perfect, and that made him wary. Everything about her was flawless, from her honey-colored hair to a body she probably worked on a few hours every day. He glanced down and sure enough there was a ridiculously large diamond on her left ring finger.

  “All right, then. What can I do for you?”

  If she asked for an autograph, he would force himself to smile and do it. Kay was mere feet away and she’d talked about how important it was to put a smiley face on in public. He preferred to shove people away, but this was her day.

  The woman in front of him smoothed down her dress, making sure she cupped her ample breasts. “I’m your biggest fan, Joshua. You should know that. I’m also a regular here. I know every inch of this place. I thought you might like to take a tour of the dressing rooms. They’re very private. Very quiet.”

  He frowned, his body going cold. “What would you like me to see there?”

  She leaned over, giving him a view of her assets. “You could see anything you liked.”

  Again he caught sight of the ring on her finger. He glanced up and it was apparent she wasn’t alone. A woman was watching her, frowning all the way, as though she couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

  “I don’t like anything you have to offer. In fact, I’m insulted you would think I would take you anywhere at all.”

  She seemed to fumble, going from seductive to a little horrified in an instant. “I was just…it’s more private in case you want to work.”

  Sure. “I’m fine right here, and before you attempt to give me another private viewing of what you have to offer, try to remember that I came in here with a woman. Does she look like my sister? Hell, even if she was my sister, what kind of brother would I be if I left her alone to screw some random chick in a dressing room? You have a wedding ring on. I suspect that’s a present from the man who’s paying for this outing. Perhaps I should talk to him. I suspect the sales associates know who you are. Would your husband enjoy talking to me?”

  She pulled back. “You’re an asshole.”

  “A faithful one.” He didn’t cheat. He didn’t play around and he no longer sold himself. “An asshole who won’t mind calling out a faithless wife. Go away. Don’t come back or I’ll do something worse. I’ll ask my girlfriend what she thinks. You won’t like what she thinks.”

  The woman practically ran the other way.

  One of the salesladies stepped in. She wore a black sheath dress, her face pinched in consternation. “Are you all right, Mr. Hunt? Did that woman bother you? I’m sorry.”

  At least he was getting stellar service. He forced his expression to clear as the woman and her friend—who was probably a nanny because she was pushing a baby stroller—fled the store. He didn’t want to put anyone on edge when they were being professional. “She asked a question I couldn’t give her an answer to, that’s all. Make sure my girl tries on the blue jumper. I think it would look wonderful on her.”

  The saleslady grinned. “She’s wonderful. So funny and kind.”

  That was his girl.

  His cell buzzed in his pocket and he glanced down at the number. Fuck. Unknown. It was either honestly unknown and someone wanted to attempt to get him to vote one way or another or…it was time.

  His gut was in a knot. “Is there someplace private I could take this?”

  She pointed to the back of the store. “There’s an alley behind us. Follow me.” She led him past Kayla, who was slipping into a dressing room. She didn’t notice him. “We take smoke breaks back here. The door is going to lock, but the alley leads around to the front of the store. I could prop it open if you like.”

  And risk anyone overhearing him? Not a chance. Actually, this was one of the reasons he’d decided to take Kayla out today. He had a long lunch planned for tomorrow and a meeting the next day, all so he could easily slip away from her and take this particular call.

  He didn’t like hiding things from her. That was a surprise since most of his life consisted of hiding his past. He was used to it. Didn’t give it a second thought, but the fact that he was manipulating things in order to make certain she wouldn’t overhear a phone conversation bothered him.

  When had he lost the upper hand?

  He slid his thumb across the screen to accept the call as he made his way to the back. “This is Hunt.”

  He pushed through the door going from the cool darkness of the back room into the heat of day.

  Her voice rasped as though going through some kind of filter. It was always like this. “Tomorrow night. Solstice Canyon, eleven p.m. Leave the package at the foot of the statue of the Virgin Mary. As usual, come alone or we’ll have to believe you’re all right with everyone knowing your secret.”

  “I know the spot.” Shit. They were supposed to go to The Reef tomorrow night. There was a party after the play session that he would be expected to attend. He would have to sneak away.

  Fuck. He would have to sneak away from his bodyguards. That was easier said than
done. Though they tended to think he was safe in the club. Likely he could convince Dec and Shane to merely do drop-off duty since Kayla would be with him all night.

  “Don’t be late.”

  There were other problems with his blackmailer’s plans. “And if there are hikers? You know night hiking is kind of a thing around here.”

  “Then I suspect you’ll find a way,” she replied. “And watch out for the local wildlife. I’ve heard they get hungry at night. Don’t bring that new girlfriend of yours or she might get eaten right up.”

  A chill went down his spine. “Leave her out of this.”

  “I can’t. You brought her in. I find it curious that there’s little information about her out there. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I can find a bunch of well-crafted documents meant to throw off the casual investigator. I’m not casual, Mr. Hunt. I’m concerned that you’ve suddenly hired one of the premiere security firms in the world to do your security.”

  Thank god it wasn’t about Kayla in particular. Although it really worried him that this woman knew so much about his business. Had he been fooling himself all this time thinking she was merely concerned with their business dealings and nothing else about his life? Was she always out there watching him? The thought irritated him, made him less cautious than he normally was. “Yeah, well there are more threats out there than some nasty bitch who knows about my past.”

  Her voice deepened, whatever tech she used to disguise it making her sound the slightest bit demonic, and wasn’t that fitting? She was his personal demon made flesh. “Don’t think that opening up old wounds is all I can do to you. I can give you some spectacular new ones. If I find out McKay-Taggart is trying to find me, you’ll have some new scars that will make the old ones look minor.”

  She hadn’t talked like this in years. Not since the one time he’d rebelled. “What’s changed?”

  He probably shouldn’t question her. He should get off the line and get back inside and try to figure out how he was going to slip away from the club tomorrow night, but he found the curiosity overwhelming. And a bit terrifying if her answer came close to the one in his head.