One of his feet nudged the insides of her ankles, urging her to spread her legs and she willingly obliged. Anything if he’d just put his hands back on her body.
And then he did, beginning with her ankles, kneading gently again as he’d done earlier. Sliding his hands up her calves, massaging the muscles, up, up her thighs until again he reached—
But his hands were gone again and she moaned her displeasure.
Lane just gave that sexy chuckle again and turned her to face the wall of the shower, placing her hands flat against the wet tiles. Now he worked her shoulders and her back, fingers pressing against each bump of her spine and teasing the indentation just at the top of her buttocks. Then his soapy fingers were sliding into the crevice and teasing that tight ring of muscles that guarded her ass, the pucker of her anus. Rub, rub, rub and then one finger pushed its way in, probing gently, rubbing the sensitive internal tissues.
“Breathe, Bella,” he urged in a low voice. “Slow, deep breaths.”
She did and a second finger insinuated itself in next to the first. Lane worked them slowly in and out, scissoring them to stretch and ease the tissues. More of the slick gel, more penetration by his fingers. When he added a third one, slowly, slowly, heat surged through her and her pussy clenched in earnest.
In, out, in, out, setting up a rhythm that her body caught and rode.
By the time he eased those fingers from her she was filled with a riot of sensation, an urgent need to be pushed the last little bit to the orgasm that was rapidly uncoiling inside her. She heard the shower door sliding open, the familiar crinkle of the foil wrapper of a condom—had he brought it into the bathroom with him?—and then he was back.
Firm fingers opened the cheeks of her ass and thumbs pressed against that puckered ring again. Then pressure as the head of his cock nudged the opening and began the steady, slow thrust inside.
“Breathe,” he said again. “Just like before.”
In, out, in, out. Timing her breathing to the movement of his shaft.
When he filled her completely he held very still for a long moment.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Mmm. Sì. Very okay.”
One hand slid past the curve of her hipbone to the slight curve of her tummy and down to capture her clit again.
“Let go, Bella,” he urged. “Give yourself to me completely.”
He drove into her ass with powerful, steady strokes, his fingers rubbing her clit with the same even rhythm. She felt the orgasm reaching through her, pushing her, expanding until she was teetering on the edge of an abyss deeper than she’d ever seen before.
“Now,” Lane growled, pushing his fingers deep inside her. “Go ahead. I’ll catch you.” He nipped her shoulder. “I’ll always catch you.”
At the moment his body stiffened she gave herself over to him completely, letting the climax take her. With the water sluicing down on them she thrust back against him, feeling his release pump into her through the thin latex, one of his fingers sliding into her pussy where her walls clamped down on it.
She shook and shuddered, tumbling into the abyss but secure in the knowledge that Lane was with her, his strong hands grounding her. Her body clenched over and over until finally she stopped spinning in space, the fireworks behind her eyelids eased and there was just the seesawing of her breath and the thundering of her heart.
As she struggled to catch her breath, Lane pressed a kiss to the tender spot behind her ear. And she could have sworn she heard him whisper, Mine.
But then he was easing himself from her body, holding her with one hand while he soaped himself with the other, pulling her against him as he let the shower spray rinse them off. He turned off the water, opened the shower door and wrapped her in a big, fluffy heated towel. He sat her again on the lid of the commode while he dried himself then lifted her and carried her into the bedroom.
“I have to get dressed,” she murmured. “I have things to do.”
“And you’ll do them. But first, close your eyes for fifteen minutes. I promise I’ll wake you. Do it for me, Bella. You need to recharge. Trust me.”
She curled against him, closing her eyes. Trust him. Yes, she did.
* * * * *
Although they would have a very late dinner with Adam and Nicki, Lane had ordered something light from room service. He’d insisted that Isabella eat, knowing that the tension of the situation was draining her strength. Now they were dressed and preparing to head downstairs and get a report from Raul on activity in the lobby. Isabella was just pulling her hair back into a thick gold clip and Lane was fastening his watch on his wrist when his cell phone rang. He looked at the readout before answering.
“Hey, Maddie. Got something for us? I hope?”
“Maybe more than you want. I played every card I had to get an immediate answer from L.L. Bean and get past their customer confidentiality roadblock.”
Lane tensed. “So you found the buyer?”
“Oh, yeah. You ready for this one?”
“Spit it out.”
“The buyer is a woman named Rachel Krone.” Pause. “She happens to be Henri Liebermann’s niece.”
“Holy shit.” A zap of electricity skated over his spine, the kind of feeling he got when he was close to solving something.
“What is it?” Bella asked. “What has she got?”
He looked over at her. “I’ll tell you in a minute. Maddie, do you have an address for her?”
“Does Sunday follow Saturday? I’m texting it to you as soon as I hang up, along with her phone number. And get this, Lane. She lives in Paris.”
At that revelation every muscle in his body tightened. All the players were gathering here in the City of Light. Every one of his senses told him the last act was about to be played out. “Okay. We’re on it.” He disconnected and repeated everything to Bella. “I need to call Adam and Nicki right now.”
But before he could speed dial them his phone rang again. Nicki herself.
“I’ve cleared everything with the government so we can get into the building. Someone will meet us there in an hour. That just gives you time to meet with all the G8 heads of security and help them figure out the best way to protect their charges.”
“Good enough. We’re on our way downstairs right now. Wait until I tell you what Maddie found out.”
“Well, hurry. You and Bella get down here right now. We can finish going over this while we head to the meeting room where the G8 security heads have gathered.”
Lane filled Isabella in while they headed for the elevator, answering her questions as best he could. He looked her over with an assessing eye, satisfied that her color was good and her eyes clear. She’d been completely stressed out when they’d hit the room earlier, and that was no fit state for an explosives expert.
Mine.
He wondered if she’d heard him whisper that word in the final moment of orgasm. And if she did, what did she think? They’d been together such a short time, but it hadn’t taken long for him to realize this was the woman for him. Not just as the other half of his team but as someone with whom he was completely in sync. And not just for work. Forever.
Adam and Nicki were waiting for them in a corner of the lobby and Lane repeated everything for them.
“Holy shit!” Nicole was silent for a moment. “All right. I’m going to get Adam onto his contacts. With even this tiny lead we have a pretty good chance to find out who Octo really is.”
Lane glanced across the lobby to where Raul was seated in one of the big wing chairs, casually leafing through a magazine. “I see The Bull is still on the job.”
“Yes. He’s keeping track of the three heads of Kopf for me, as well as Liebermann who has come through the lobby twice in the past hour.”
“Anyone with him?”
She nodded. “Two men. He snapped their photos with his phone and sent them to Maddie to run through the face recog software.”
“Any word yet on Arturo Franzoni? Any clue as to where h
e could be?”
“I’m still on it. Again, I’m using Adam’s contacts from his Mossad days since everyone else has come up dry.”
“You’d think that since Italy froze the Kopf assets as they asked, they’d let him go,” he pointed out.
“I think they want to hang on to him to force everyone else’s hand.”
“Won’t the threat of a bomb do that?” Lane asked.
“They may be trying to cover all bases. There’s a sound of desperation in their messages and in everything they’re doing. Snatching the Italian Minister of Finance shows how frantic they are.”
Lane repeated to her what Isabella had told him about the bomb threat some time ago at Gottfried’s home.
“I’m guessing they’ve already tried going through channels to reclaim the stolen art—I’ve got Dan checking on that—and haven’t gotten anywhere. This is a personal thing, Lane, not political. Thousands of Jewish families had valuable art conscripted by the Nazis and have been fighting for generations to get it back.”
Lane raised an eyebrow. “And they’ve traced enough of it back to the three heads of Kopf that they’re taking these drastic actions?”
“Again, Dan’s getting that information, using every person he ever worked with overseas to call in favors. He knows we’re running out of time.”
“Lane.” Isabella put a soft hand on his arm. “You have no idea of the passions involved with regard to this stolen art. It’s worse than a blood feud.” She looked at Adam and Nicki. “Adam, I’m sure you can understand. Think of it. People were swept from their homes, their property confiscated and if they weren’t killed they were left with nothing. Families have struggled for generations to reclaim what they lost. This is very, very personal.”
Lane shook his head. “I hear you. And I agree with you on the desperation. Blowing up eight finance ministers will definitely send a message to the countries where Kopf has assets.”
A dark-haired man in an impeccable suit approached them and looked at Nicki.
“Miss Welles?”
“Yes?”
“I’m Charles Deschamps.” He pulled a flat leather wallet from his pocket and flipped it open to display his credentials. “I’ll be escorting you to the hall where the meeting is scheduled for tomorrow.”
“Excellent. And you have the G8 security heads together for us?”
He nodded. “Right this way.”
The eight people gathered in the small meeting room all had one thing in common—very grim expressions on their faces. They had a number of questions for the Nemesis people, which Nicki took the lead in answering. Isabella stood beside her, explaining the situation regarding the bomb threats and what she planned to do shortly. While she was dealing with them Nicki’s cell phone rang and Adam took it from her and answered it, moving into a corner for privacy. Lane watched him, saw some of the tension ease from his body, saw him nod two or three times and disconnect.
“What?” Lane asked when the former Mossad agent walked back to him.
“They’ve found Arturo,” he told Lane in a low voice.
Lane raised his eyebrows. “How? Where? Did Octo release him?”
“No. Some…contacts of mine were able to effect his escape.” A look of satisfaction flashed briefly over his face. “They also have two of Octo’s people ready to deliver to the Italian police when I give them the go-ahead.”
“Does Octo know that yet?”
Adam grinned. “Are you kidding? My friends were trained by Mossad. There’s a lid clamped down tighter than a vacuum seal.” His face turned serious. “We can let the others know but not anyone outside Nemesis. As soon as Dan calls back with the rest of the information we need we may be able to wrap this whole thing up.” He glanced over at Isabella. “Assuming your lady neutralizes the bomb threat.”
“Oh, she’ll do it. No doubt. She’s the best.”
Nicole walked over to them. “We’re ready to go.”
Lane looked at the eight people gathered behind her. “You’re taking them with you? Putting them in jeopardy?”
“I want them to understand that these people, Octo, can get into any place they want, do anything they want, and that freezing the Kopf assets will be the best alternative.”
“You know your stuff,” Lane told her. “Who am I to argue?”
Nicole’s cell phone beeped. Adam handed it back to her and she looked at the screen. “Time to go.” Her gaze shifted to Charles Deschamps. “Interpol is waiting at the hall with the dogs and bomb disposal equipment.”
“Then by all means, let us go.”
It was only a short walk from the hotel. Deschamps unlocked the massive carved doors and they all moved into the reception area.
“Please wait here,” Bella told the others. “You’ll be safe here. Following their pattern, the bomb will be inside the meeting area.”
Lane ground his teeth, watching her move away from him, the dogs and their handlers with her, but he knew she’d be distracted by his presence. But when he heard her voice he moved to the entrance to the room.
“It’s here,” she called, standing in the middle of a row of seats about halfway back from the front.
The handlers were tugging on their dogs’ leashes who had detected their prey and wanted to be let loose.
Lane and the others watched while someone brought Isabella the protective gear she needed, helped her into it and arranged the shield and robotic arms. Then a lead-lined box was placed next to her and everyone moved away. Lane was sure she’d be able to work better if they’d been able to take out some of the seats but that might have set off the bomb. And Isabella, being the very best there was, had worked in tight situations before. He had to believe she was in control.
Although it took less than fifteen minutes for the purse to be lifted and placed in the box and the lid locked down, Lane felt as if it really took hours. He was soaked with perspiration by the time they got the all-clear signal. He didn’t even care who was watching. When Bella was out of her gear and standing next to him again he pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her as if he’d never let her go.
“Mine,” he whispered in her ear.
This time she smiled and gave a barely perceptible nod and he knew she’d heard him.
* * * * *
For people who had been through an incredibly nerve-racking few hours the five members of Nemesis attacked their late dinner with incredible appetites. With everything wrapped up Raul had gratefully joined them.
“I’m always starved in the aftermath,” Nicki told them, soaking up the garlic butter from the escargot with chunks of hot, fresh bread. “I could eat everything on this menu.”
Adam ran his knuckles lightly along her cheek. “And you deserve whatever you want, babe. You pulled off a big one today.”
“Not without a lot of help.” She took a slow sip of her wine, then looked around the table. “And a huge amount of help from everyone here. Especially Isabella, our newest team member.”
“Everyone played a big part,” Bella reminded her.
Lane was watching Bella carefully, making sure she ate, rubbing her shoulders to ease the residual tension. Once the bomb had been placed in the box and taken out to the bomb disposal van she’d separated the vials inside and placed them in individual boxes for the bomb lab to dispose of. Dan had come through with more information about Octo now that they’d found a lead and Adam’s Mossad contacts had been instrumental in identifying the others. Very quietly Henri Liebermann, his niece and the others, including the two who had kidnapped Umberto, were all in Interpol’s custody.
But there had been side benefits to the whole mess. Realizing that others might move in to take Octo’s place if they didn’t do something, and sufficiently alarmed by the kidnapping and the bombs directed at their groups, the other seven of the G8 countries had moved quickly to freeze the Kopf assets. Giorgio Umberto and his two partners were very busy trying to catch the falling pieces of their conglomerate and all of the art each of t
he men possessed was being carefully scrutinized along with the documentation.
“So, Isabella.” Nicki studied her. “I usually like my major players to headquarter in the States, but I’m prepared to give you flexibility in that if you’re too rooted in Italy.”
Bella smiled and leaned into the shelter of Lane’s arm. “Actually my partner and I had a long discussion while you were finishing up with Interpol. I’m going to keep my apartment in Florence but I’ll be sharing Lane’s quarters with him. We thought it might be more efficient that way.”
“Efficient,” Adam repeated. “Yes, I’m sure that’s the word Lane had in mind.”
“You’d think Nemesis was a damn dating agency,” Raul complained, finishing his vichyssoise. “Look at you, the four of you. And Dan and Maddie back in Texas.”
“Well,” Nicole told him, “you know what they say about danger being an aphrodisiac.” She shifted her gaze to Lane and Isabella. “So I guess I can assume the two of you are satisfied with being teamed up permanently?”
Lane pulled Bella into his side. “At least for the next fifty or sixty years.”
“Well.” Adam cleared his throat. “A good day’s work all around, then. I think it deserves a toast.” He lifted his wineglass. “To Nemesis, the goddess of retribution. Once again she scores a victory.”
“To Nemesis,” they each echoed, and the clink of crystal as they touched glasses floated on the air.
Epilogue
The fifteen people who sat around the long table in the plush conference room looked beyond grim. Not even the coffee made from specially roasted beans and the exquisite French pastries could sweeten the situation. The person at the head of the table, addressed only as The Chairman stared at each person individually.
“This has been another disaster,” The Chairman said. “Three in a row. All caused by the group called Nemesis.”
“What do we know about them?” the man at the immediate left asked.
“Not as much as we’re going to,” The Chairman said in a tight voice.
The person to the immediate right carefully replaced the coffee cup in its saucer. “So far they’ve disrupted our arms deals, our plan to put Paul Trask in office as the president of the United States, our international drug distribution, and now they’ve virtually emasculated Kopf Industries owned by three of our members.”
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