by Blake, Lexi
Praise for Lexi Blake and Masters and Mercenaries...
“I can always trust Lexi Blake's Dominants to leave me breathless...and in love. If you want sensual, exciting BDSM wrapped in an awesome love story, then look for a Lexi Blake book.”
~Cherise Sinclair USA Today Bestselling author
“Lexi Blake's MASTERS AND MERCENARIES series is beautifully written and deliciously hot. She's got a real way with both action and sex. I also love the way Blake writes her gorgeous Dom heroes--they make me want to do bad, bad things. Her heroines are intelligent and gutsy ladies whose taste for submission definitely does not make them dish rags. Can't wait for the next book!”
~Angela Knight, New York Times bestselling author
“A Dom is Forever is action packed, both in the bedroom and out. Expect agents, spies, guns, killing and lots of kink as Liam goes after the mysterious Mr. Black and finds his past and his future… The action and espionage keep this story moving along quickly while the sex and kink provides a totally different type of interest. Everything is very well balanced and flows together wonderfully.”
~A Night Owl “Top Pick”, Terri, Night Owl Erotica
“A Dom Is Forever is everything that is good in erotic romance. The story was fast-paced and suspenseful, the characters were flawed but made me root for them every step of the way, and the hotness factor was off the charts mostly due to a bad boy Dom with a penchant for dirty talk.”
~Rho, The Romance Reviews
“A good read that kept me on my toes, guessing until the big reveal, and thinking survival skills should be a must for all men.”
~Chris, Night Owl Reviews
“I can’t get enough of the Masters and Mercenaries Series! Love and Let Die is Lexi Blake at her best! She writes erotic romantic suspense like no other, and I am always extremely excited when she has something new for us! Intense, heart pounding, and erotically fulfilling, I could not put this book down.”
~ Shayna Renee, Shayna Renee's Spicy Reads
“Certain authors and series are on my auto-buy list. Lexi Blake and her Masters & Mercenaries series is at the top of that list... this book offered everything I love about a Masters & Mercenaries book – alpha men, hot sex and sweet loving… As long as Ms. Blake continues to offer such high quality books, I’ll be right there, ready to read.”
~ Robin, Sizzling Hot Books
“I have absolutely fallen in love with this series. Spies, espionage, and intrigue all packaged up in a hot dominant male package. All the men at McKay-Taggart are smoking hot and the women are amazingly strong sexy submissives.”
~Kelley, Smut Book Junkie Book Reviews
A View to a Thrill
Masters and Mercenaries, Book 7
Lexi Blake
A View to a Thrill
Masters and Mercenaries, Book 7
Lexi Blake
Published by DLZ Entertainment LLC
Copyright 2014 DLZ Entertainment LLC
Edited by Chloe Vale
eBook ISBN: 978-1-937608-29-3
McKay-Taggart logo design by Charity Hendry
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.
Acknowledgements
Thanks to my team—editor Chloe Vale, beta readers Riane Holt and Stormy Pate and the wonderful Liz Berry and Fiona Archer for all the help in getting this book ready to go. I also thank my husband and kids and the amazing Top Griz for his service to our country and for sharing his knowledge with writers.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Cherished: A Masters and Mercenaries Novella by Lexi Blake, Coming October 28, 2014
You Only Love Twice by Lexi Blake, Coming February 17, 2015
Their Virgin Mistress by Shayla Black and Lexi Blake
An excerpt from The Flame by Christopher Rice
An excerpt from Forbidden Legacy by Mari Carr and Lila Dubois
An excerpt from His to Take by Shayla Black
About Lexi Blake
Other Books by Lexi Blake
Prologue
The village of Norsely, England
Thirty-one years ago
Simon opened the door from the garden. The light of day seemed to fade away as he moved into the house. Quiet. It seemed too quiet, but then he had to be quiet when the tours came through. Every now and then his mother would walk through the hallways with a group of people he didn’t know, telling them all about the house, though she always neglected to show them the best parts. She showed the people the grand parlor, but never the football goals their father had set up for him and Clive. She didn’t even show them the smashing new game room with toys and a table where he could play tennis with his brother.
Though Clive was always tired now.
He ran through the halls, his feet pounding against the wood floors as he moved from light to shadow with each window. His brother used to play a game with him. They would try to jump from the patches of light the big windows made just before afternoon turned to dusk. They would leap over the shadows in between and most often one of them would fall and laughter would ensue, and their father would sometimes join them calling them little monkeys and tickling them until they couldn’t breathe.
“Simon?”
He stopped at the sound of his mother’s voice. He turned and she was standing in front of the hall that led to the family rooms. She never took people down that hallway. It was for them, she said. The rest of the house could be for history, but that wing was their home.
“Mummy.” He raced toward her. She’d been gone all day. They’d all been gone. “Where’s Dad and Clive?”
She got to one knee, and he could suddenly see the lines on her face. She always looked pretty, but there were little black streaks around her eyes now and her mouth had a grim turn. “They’re upstairs. Clive is resting, but your father is packing.”
“Where are we going?”
She shook her head. “You’re staying here, love. You start school in a few weeks. I’ll try to come back to help get you settled, but if I can’t, then Nanny Deborah will make sure you get to school.”
“Where are you going?”
“To London. We’re taking your brother there. Clive is very sick, Simon.”
Sick? Clive always seemed sick. He wasn’t sure how going to London would help, but it was all right with him. He just didn’t want to be left behind. “I can go to London, too. I can help.”
She sniffled and then s
tood up. “I’m sorry. I think it’s best you stay here, love. It will be very boring in London. When school starts you’ll be busy, so busy you won’t have time to worry. That’s what I want for you. Normalcy. You need normalcy.” She squared her shoulders. “We’ll be back in a few weeks so we should see you at the next holiday.”
Holiday? But that was months away.
“But I want to go with you,” he said. He suddenly felt very small. Like he wasn’t really there at all.
His mother shook her head. “It’s decided. You have to be strong. Your father and I want what’s best for you and that isn’t living in some hospital for months at a time. Your brother loves you. He wants you to have a normal life. None of us wants you affected by this.”
By cancer. He’d heard the word. Clive had cancer and cancer was a bad thing. But it was affecting him because he was being left behind.
He nodded though because crying wasn’t the Weston way. Westons stuck together. That was what his father said.
Except he seemed to be the only Weston not sticking together.
His mum kissed his forehead and turned down the hall, her heels clicking as she walked toward the place where his father was likely packing up for the trip.
Simon sat on the bench in front of the big windows and watched as the light faded. It didn’t matter that he was five. He had to be brave. He had to be strong.
Because he suddenly understood that he was alone.
* * * *
North Carolina coast, USA
Seventeen Years Ago
Chelsea ran, her bare feet sinking into the sand. It was hot, but she was used to it. She was a beach baby, as her momma said. She’d lived her whole life close to the ocean.
“Chelsea!”
She turned and saw her sister. Charlotte’s hair whipped behind her as she ran to catch up. She had sneakers in her hand, her feet still wet from splashing through the waves.
“Hi. Were you with your boyfriend?” She used a little singsong voice, absolutely sure to make her sister crazy.
Charlotte’s nose wrinkled up. “Ewww, gross. Bobby is not my boyfriend.”
“He looks like your boyfriend.”
“Does not.”
“Does, too.” Charlotte spent entirely too much time with the pimply faced kid. And his feet smelled.
“He’s just a friend. Trust me. When I get married someday I’m going to marry a man who treats me like a princess.”
Chelsea smiled. This was one of their favorite games. Someday. Someday Charlotte would be a lawyer or doctor or actress, depending on the day. Chelsea knew what she wanted to be. A teacher. She wanted to be just like her mom and teach little kids all about how to read. She wasn’t sure she needed to get married. Her mom didn’t need a man.
Still, sometimes she thought it would be nice. Sometimes she thought Momma was lonely. She caught her every now and then reading a book of poetry and crying.
It’s just because it’s so lovely, dear. The poems remind me how much I love you.
Someday she was going to read those poems.
But now it was just fun to tease her sister. “I don’t think Bobby is a prince.”
They started walking toward the little cottage on the beach that had been their home for as long as Chelsea could remember.
“Someday, I’m going to marry a handsome man who is polite to everyone around him.” She turned around, her arms out as she made a full circle before starting to walk again. “And everyone will love him. He’ll be the sweetest guy in the world.”
Charlotte would find that man. Her sister was the sweetest girl in the world, and she deserved the best guy possible. A man who would love her and treat her gently.
If she ever got married, Chelsea wanted someone smart and kind and who would never, ever hurt her.
“Whose car is that?” Charlotte stopped, her hand going up over her eyes, shielding them from the sun.
Chelsea looked up and there was a big black SUV parked next to their clunky station wagon. A man stood at the front, his face turned toward their little cottage. She caught the glint of metal at his waist, but she wasn’t sure what the sun was catching. His belt maybe.
Charlotte reached for her hand. “I don’t know. He looks scary. Maybe we should go to the Johnsons.”
Chelsea slipped out of her sister’s grasp because there was a roll in her gut. Something was wrong. Her mother only had female friends and none of their husbands drove ominous black SUVs. She started to run, the sand dragging her down, but she knew she had to get to her mother.
“Chelsea,” Charlotte said beside her. “Chelsea, Momma told me to hide if we ever thought strange men were after us.”
Men with accents. Her mother had told her the same thing, but these men didn’t seem to be after her and her sister. They were in the house with Momma. Chelsea had to know. She couldn’t run and hide when her mother was there. She didn’t think, simply acted, running toward the house she’d known her whole life, the place where she’d been safe.
She was almost up the hill when the door opened and a man stepped outside, casually wiping something off his hands. He was a big man, maybe the largest Chelsea had ever seen. He had hair like Charlotte’s, blonde threaded with streaks of red, but unlike her sister, he wasn’t smiling. There was a grimness that made Chelsea stop in her tracks.
Charlotte stopped beside her.
“Is that blood?” her sister whispered.
Chelsea couldn’t take her eyes off the handkerchief in the man’s hand. Bright-red blood marred the white fabric. Blood.
Why was he bleeding? He didn’t look hurt. He was standing tall, his shoulders perfectly straight. He looked out over the beach as though searching for something. He spoke then, and Chelsea shivered at the sound.
“Найти ее.”
Charlotte pulled on her hand and this time Chelsea didn’t fight, but when they turned they found the way blocked.
And the sun. The massive man in front of them blocked out the sun, casting a long shadow over Chelsea and her sister. Charlotte’s hand squeezed hers so tight that Chelsea’s eyes filled with tears for two reasons. There was pain, but the only reason her sister would ever cause her that pain was out of fear.
Something bad was going to happen. Something very bad.
“Charlotte?” a deep voice asked.
Charlotte turned, pulling Chelsea with her. “Where’s my mom?”
The big man with the accent shrugged negligently. “She’s suffered an accident. I’m afraid she’s gone, but I’m your father and I’m here to take you home.”
Gone? Gone where? Her mother never left for long. She went to work, but someone always watched them and it wouldn’t be a scary man with blood on his hands. Where had her mother gone?
She wouldn’t leave them. Momma wouldn’t leave.
Unless…
Chelsea saw the world through blurry eyes as the truth hit her. Gone. It was a word that adults used. She’d learned that adults had lots of words that meant more than one thing. Gone was adult speak for the truth.
Dead. Gone was dead. It was a stupid word because gone meant leaving for something, but dead was just dead. Dead was a useless word and her mom wasn’t useless. Her mom couldn’t be dead.
Charlotte started to struggle beside her as the big man picked her up. Their hands came undone, and Chelsea had the horrible fear that Charlotte would be gone and she wasn’t sure in what way.
Charlotte kicked and screamed out Chelsea’s name. She pleaded with the man taking her as Chelsea stood, her feet planted to the ground because she wasn’t sure what else to do.
She closed her eyes. When a dream got bad, she had to remind herself that it was only a nightmare and that she could wake herself up. She was going to wake up. Tears squeezed from her eyes, dripping down her cheeks like warm rain.
Let me wake up. Wake up. Wake up.
When she woke up, Momma would be there making breakfast and Charlotte would say she didn’t like Bobby even though Chelsea was
sure she did. The screaming would stop when she woke up. The crying would stop.
“Bring the other girl. She could prove useful,” a dark voice said.
A hand wrapped around her arm, and Chelsea opened her eyes. A man with a huge scar running down his face frowned down at her as she heard a car door slam.
“I’m sorry, little one. If it were up to me I would reunite you with your mother quickly. It looks like fate has other plans. Come along.” He started to walk, seeming not to mind when she stumbled.
Her feet hit the concrete, skin tearing in little streaks of pain and blood. She tried to keep up, tried to make her legs move faster, but it was useless.
She was shoved into the car. Immediately her sister was there, arms going around Chelsea.
She huddled in the car with Charlotte as it took off. She looked back, the little cottage fading into the distance, and wondered if she would ever see it again.
She closed her eyes and prayed to wake up.
Chapter One
“Someone’s trying to kill me.”
Simon Weston tried to let the words settle on his brain, closing the door as Chelsea walked through. Chelsea Dennis, otherwise known as Denisovitch, the daughter of former Russian mobster Vladimir Denisovitch and niece to the recently deceased head of the Denisovitch Syndicate. Recently deceased because Simon’s boss, Ian Taggart, had taken care of the fucker. Simon often wished he’d been the one to stick a blade in the bastard’s heart.
He turned and couldn’t help but stare. Chelsea wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever met and yet she stopped him in his tracks. He’d escorted some of the world’s great beauties on red carpets and to royal events, but it was a little criminal mastermind who got his cock hard just by walking in a room. She wasn’t exactly plain, either. With chestnut-brown hair and a petite figure, she was actually quite pretty until one noticed her hips and ass. Those catapulted her into goddess territory. Anything she lacked in the tit department was more than made up for with that healthy ass and curvy hips a man could hang on to while he fucked deep inside.