Hidden Heat: Hauberk Protection, Book 4

by Leah Braemel

  Cooper cocked the cigar in a Groucho Marx impression. “Coming is the reason most people visit the Rouge.”

  Unable to find a curse adequate to meet his frustration, Troy snatched the cigar from Cooper’s hands and tossed it aside. Sparks showered across the tarmac in a brilliant blaze of orange as the cigar bounced to the far side of the driveway. “Fuck. Off.”

  “Again, that’s the whole purpose of the club.” While the grin stayed plastered in place, Cooper’s eyes narrowed, the amusement draining from them like a switch had been thrown.

  Ignoring the danger signs, Troy balled his fists in preparation to land his first punch. Before he could blink, Cooper grabbed him in a move Troy didn’t see coming. He landed face-first and off-balance against his own vehicle, Cooper’s arm wrapped around his neck, and Cooper’s knee in his back. “Watch your temper. This is not the place to bring that type of aggression.”

  He had to hand it to Cooper. While Cooper might not work in the field anymore, he hadn’t lost any of his training. The chokehold he had him in left no room for movement; he either relaxed or he choked himself to unconsciousness. Strangely, the dog had not moved from his place at Cooper’s side. Troy pounded the side of the Porsche with the flat of his hand, signaling his yield.

  “What’s got you spoiling for a fight?” Cooper released him and stepped back. “Or are you looking to have your teeth shoved down your throat?”

  Troy ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “I want to ask you about the guest house and whether I can book it for myself.”

  Cooper shoved one hand in his pocket in what Troy knew was his way of attempting to appear casual when he was anything but. When Troy didn’t say anything more, Cooper gestured to the club. “Let’s go inside and we can discuss it over a drink.”

  He followed the other man through a secret side entrance, Cooper swiping his security card in the reader so as not to set off the alarms. Few members knew this entrance existed. Most of the ones who did thought it led to the hallways used by staff so as not to disturb the members.

  Instead of opening the door to the main club, Cooper slid a section of chair railing aside. He pressed the button that had been hidden by the wood and a secret door sprang open. Troy walked down to the landing and waited while Cooper secured the panel back in place behind them.

  “Do Sam or Chad know about your bunker yet?” he asked as they trudged down the two flights of stairs, the shepherd’s claws clicking behind them.

  “If they know, they’ve not said anything to me.”

  At the bottom, Cooper lead him down the plain white corridor. They passed a large room resembling a small army barracks, a half-dozen beds lined up against the wall, their mattresses rolled up at the end of their steel frames. Beyond it was a small kitchenette, and the room with a metal table and two metal chairs they’d interrogated him after they’d freed Scott and the other hostages in Colombia.

  To his surprise, Cooper continued toward the large steel door at the far end of the corridor, a door he’d never been allowed past during his last visit.

  He waited as Cooper looked into the retinal scanner mounted on the wall beside the door. At the computer’s command, Cooper punched a number in its keypad. A click echoed down the hall before the door swung open to reveal another long, equally bland passageway.

  When Cooper gestured for him to precede him, Troy hesitated. “Why are you bringing me here? Why can’t we talk in the bar?”

  “Because I don’t want anyone overhearing what I have to say.”

  Inclining his head in a shallow nod, Troy stepped through the door. His footsteps echoing off the painted cinderblock walls, he passed another interrogation room, this one a plain room with a large mirror at the far end, a metal chair bolted to the floor in the middle, wires and cuffs hanging loosely from its frame. As he expected, the next room was filled with electronic equipment for Cooper’s agents to use to monitor their subject’s blood pressure and voice stresses during their interrogations of whoever was in the first room. He’d gotten off easy with his questioning, he realized.

  The next four doors were closed, preventing him from figuring out their purpose. Cooper directed him to the office at the end of the corridor. A massive oak desk, piles of papers littering its top, sat at one end of the room. The walls surrounding the desk were covered with screens displaying real-time satellite images from around the world. The dog slid past Troy and headed to a blanket-covered heap in one corner and lay down on it with a sigh.

  “Take a seat.” Cooper pointed to one of the plush armchairs grouped at the closer end.

  He chose the seat that left his back to the corner while Cooper walked over to the wall unit and opened a panel to reveal a bar. “What’s your poison?”

  “You think I’d trust anything you’d offer considering the last time I did? You spiked my drink and I was out for almost twenty-four hours.”

  Cooper chose a bottle of what was probably one of the world’s most expensive brandies and poured it into a glass. He returned with both the glass and the bottle and sat in the chair opposite Troy. “We had to get you out of Colombia and down here for questioning with the minimum of fuss.”

  “You could have asked me to come with you.” He wouldn’t have agreed, but not being given a choice still rubbed his balls raw.

  “You wouldn’t have agreed, and you know it.” He swirled the brandy in the glass, considering it, before he met Troy’s gaze again. “So why do you need to book the guest house? Who is your guest?”

  Was he really going to do this? If he didn’t, would he lose Sandy because she thought him too boring? Fuck it, she wanted excitement in the bedroom. He could do that for her.

  “I’ve been dating someone. She’s…” Delicate. Soft. Sensual. “I’m…” Not. He shook his head. He sounded like he was back in grammar school, right down to the short pants. “She has some fantasies I want to fulfill.”

  “She craves being watched?”

  “Amongst other fantasies.”

  “Is it someone I know?” Cooper took another sip of his drink. “Sandy perhaps?”

  How the fuck had he figured that out? Troy schooled his face so Cooper couldn’t read anything from his expression, though he wasn’t sure if he’d be successful “What makes you think it’s her?”

  “Because you’ve had your eye on her since you first met her.”

  The mask he’d donned slipped for a fraction of a second. “No, I haven’t.”

  “Maybe you weren’t aware of it, but you’ve always lingered an extra second on her whenever she was around. More than any other woman you’ve been around.”

  Son of a bitch. “Does it make a difference?”

  “Not to me. As long as she’s agreeable to our requirements.”

  “She will be. I don’t want to take her somewhere truly public. That’s why I’m—” Selling my soul to you. He shifted in his seat. “So can I reserve a suite any time in the future?”

  “There was a cancellation this weekend. If you’re interested, it’s yours. But you’d better make sure she understands what’s required. Because Sam’s assistant or not, if she talks about what she sees while she’s here, I will go after her.”

  Chapter Ten

  Troy tapped on Sandy’s desk as he passed, their private signal that he needed to speak with her. Sandy picked up her notebook and followed him into her office, not quite closing the door behind her.

  “Do you have any plans for this weekend?”

  There was something in the way he said it that told her he wasn’t talking about a trip antiquing in the country. “I think I can arrange to free my schedule.”

  The heat in his eyes was primal, untamed. “I’ve reserved a suite at a very special resort. I was wondering if you’d be interested in going with me.”

  A whole weekend together? Uninterrupted by Jazz and her boyfriend. Where did she sign up? “Will you be on call?”

  “Nope. I won’t even be able to bring my phone with me. Club rules.”


  A club? As in Club Med? Or the Porte Rouge? How could she ask without letting on that she knew of that private sex club? As much as she wanted to jump up and down in excitement, she forced herself to perch on the chair on the other side of his desk. “So it would just be me and you in a hotel room all weekend. No interruptions?”

  He reached past her and shut the door. “It won’t quite be just you and me.”

  “Oh?”

  “This resort isn’t quite like anywhere else you’ve probably been. It caters to clients with very specific tastes, where we can explore some of your fantasies.”

  Holy crap, it was the Rouge.

  Troy leaned one shoulder against the storage locker and watched Scott stripping the Glock. “You got any plans for this weekend?”

  “Nope, why?”

  “I may need your help. I’ve reserved a suite at the Rouge’s guest house for Sandy this weekend. I’d like you there to make sure her initiation goes off without any interruptions.”

  Scott looked up, a question—and doubt—clear in his eyes. “Are you expecting me to have a threesome with you?”

  “That depends upon what Sandy wants.” If that’s what she wanted, he’d give it to her, but only on the condition it was a one-time deal because he damned well didn’t want to have to watch any other man touching her regularly. “Mainly I want you to make sure that Cooper Davis doesn’t interrupt us.”

  The door squeaked open as Hauberk’s youngest agent walked into the equipment room. When the newbie debated over what type of bullet to use, Troy wanted to growl. “Take some of each, kid. Take ’em all. Just make up your goddamned mind.”

  The tips of Kris’s ears flushed bright red, but he grabbed his pistol, and enough ammunition to fight off an entire squadron and stalked from the room.

  Once the door to the firing range closed behind him, Troy straddled the bench where Scott had returned to cleaning his gun. “So are you in?”

  Scott swabbed the barrel with more attention than it deserved. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  Troy paced the length of the room, not speaking until he reached the end and turned around. “She’s always on about how she wants excitement. How boring it was back in Minnesota and that’s why she moved to D.C. It’s what she wants.” That he was willing to give her anything—even consider letting another man touch her—showed how deeply he was in over his head. “I thought about flying her to Palm Beach for the weekend. Renting a sailboat and teaching her about the joys of the motion of the ocean. Finding a secluded cove and having sex on the beach, but I can’t leave right now and I think this is what she wants.”

  “Is it what you want?”

  What did he want? Marriage? The house with a white picket fence? Children? Maybe. The thought of them wasn’t as scary as they’d once been. Not that she wanted any of it. So what did he want, he asked himself again and could come up with only one answer—her.

  Tied up and blindfolded while he fucked her. Hard.

  “Man, you’ve got it bad, don’t you?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re in love with her.”

  “No. Maybe.” Shit. Maybe he wasn’t in love with Sandy. Maybe he was in love with the idea of having someone in his corner. Of holding that brass ring—or in this case wearing a gold one. Of having what Sam had with Rosie. What Chad may have rediscovered with Lauren. “I don’t know. We’ve barely started dating.”

  “You’ve known her for two and a half years. It’s not a big leap from friendship to love.”

  “It’s not love.” Even as he spoke the words, he knew they were a lie.

  “So tell her you want to make it exclusive. You don’t have to commit any further than that. Yet.”

  Why was he unwilling to reveal that he’d already taken that step? “So she can take me home to Minnesota and introduce me to her parents? ‘Hey, Mom and Dad, this is my new boyfriend. He used to be an assassin and he was exceptionally good at his job.’” He laughed darkly. “It’s all moot anyway. She’ll never want to get involved with me long term. I’m just a way to kick up her heels, to have an adventure while keeping things safe.”

  “From what I’ve seen of Sandy, she’s not the Madonna you’re making her out to be. There’s a lot of fire inside her. Waiting for the right man to set it free. If she’s the right woman for you, she’ll accept you for all your flaws.”

  Or she’d see his flaws and punch him right in the gut.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Shit. I’m running so late. Troy’s going to be here in like ten minutes and I’m not anywhere near ready.” Sandy grabbed a blouse from her closet and held it up in front of her. “What do you think, Jazz? This one?”

  “The color washes you out a bit.” Jazz reached across the pile of tops Sandy had already discarded and plucked a blue sweater from the middle of the pile. “I liked this one better. It brings out the highlights in your hair.”

  “I don’t know. Troy likes things he can undo easily.” Sandy swiped at the ginger cat hairs clinging to the wool. “The sweater sorta leaves the girls hard to get to.”

  “Ah, so he’s a breast man, huh?” After frowning at the abandoned clothes, Jazz uncurled her feet from beneath her and joined Sandy to stare at the closet.

  “Breast man. Butt man. Leg man. He likes it all.” Together they went through the remainder of Sandy’s wardrobe before settling upon a peach shirt Sandy had folded away for spring. “It’s a little thin but with my coat I should be okay.”

  Jazz crawled back on the bed as Sandy dressed. “You’ve been seeing a lot of him lately. What’s it been now? A month?”

  “Just about.”

  “You getting serious?”

  “I don’t know.” She wished she had the time to flop on the bed and discuss what the heck was happening in detail with Jazz. “I mean, the sex has been great. I told you about the time he had me do him at the booth in that little bar, right?”

  “In graphic detail, babe. You also told me about the time he got you off at the theatre. And the time you two did each other in the parking lot later. So what’s the matter? You think he’s one of those guys who doesn’t like to commit?”

  “No, that’s the problem. I think he might be. I don’t know.” She lifted one shoulder before dropping it. “I’m not ready to settle down yet. I’ve got too much I want to do with my life.”

  “Like what?”

  “I want to travel more. I want to take courses at GW. Maybe get a degree. I don’t know. Just…do stuff.”

  “You can travel even if you’re in a relationship. Hell, with the way you say Troy travels, go with him on his business trips. And if you want to take courses, hello, why haven’t you enrolled already? You’re the only one stopping you, babe. None of that will stop you from being in a relationship.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “Yeah, but? You’ve got a really great guy interested in you, girl. Don’t fuck this up.”

  Great, here she wanted someone to back her up and Jazz decided to be the logical one all of a sudden. What did they say about the best defense? “What about you and Mitch? I haven’t seen him around much lately.”

  “He’s coming over tonight. But I’m thinking of breaking it off with him. He’s getting too intense, you know?”

  Ha! So she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t commit. “I thought he was kind of cute.”

  She must have hit a sore spot because Jazz wandered to the window and stared out. “Yeah, he’s cute enough, but he’s always on his laptop, you know? And there’s something creepy about the way he’s always hanging around here. Do you know I found him waiting for me outside the apartment again the other night? We didn’t have a date or anything, he was just there, waiting.” Jazz pressed her forehead against the glass. “Wow, you should see the size of the limo that’s pulled in.”

  Sandy peered over her shoulder in time to watch the driver open the rear door and Troy emerge. “And there’s my cue to leave.”

&n
bsp; “Mine too. If I don’t get my ass in gear, I’m going to be late for work.” Jazz hugged her at the same time as someone knocked on the door. “Don’t worry about anything this weekend, okay? Just have fun.”

  Exactly what she’d planned. She dashed out to the entrance and grabbed her coat, Jazz trailing her. “I’m so excited, I can’t stand it. Now open the door.”

  With a laugh, Jazz unlocked the door and swung it open. “Hey, Troy, come on in. Your girl’s all ready to go.”

  Troy’s gaze skimmed down Sandy, hardly sparing Jazz a glance. “You sure about this, sunshine?”

  Holy crap, he looked hot in leather pants and a black shirt. “You betcha. I can’t wait to see what you’ve got lined up. Let me grab my purse.”

  “You won’t need it.” Troy grinned and Sandy’s heart sped up at the promise in his eyes.

  “I need to bring my phone. In case there are any messages. And to check my email.”

  “You’re not going to have any time to check your email. And where we’re going, they make you leave all electronic devices at the gate. So there’s no use bringing it.”

  A thrill went through her as she remembered what she’d heard of the Rouge’s policies to prevent blackmail. Whoa, Momma, she’d asked for excitement because she was tired of the usual hundred and twenty volts and he was delivering a sixty-thousand watt experience.

  “I like the sound of that.” She reached up on her tiptoes to kiss him. “Anything else I need to bring?”

  “Just yourself. Come on, the car’s waiting downstairs.” He took the keys from her hand and led Sandy into the hall. Once Jazz locked the door, he laid his arm across Sandy’s shoulder and hugged her.

  He didn’t say anything in the elevator, and Sandy was too juiced to talk anyway. Her imagination, however, ran overtime trying to come up with the various scenarios they might act out over the weekend.

  She stopped when they walked outside and the chauffeur opened the rear door of the limo. “This isn’t a Hauberk car. You went out of your way to rent one? That’s so sweet.” So extravagant.