Satisfaction Delivered

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Satisfaction Delivered Page 10

by Marie Harte


  “Some guy with no friends. I think he intended to fill the place with kids, but something happened to the wife.” Or, you know, the guy’s parents had bought the place with plans and an unlimited budget then died. So his uncle had taken over the decorating while Hammer was raised to shoot first and ask questions later.

  “So, there’s this—you said tiny?—library. There’s a larger library in the place?”

  He nodded, pleased to see her so taken with the house. “You don’t even want to know how much space there is. There’s an indoor pool, basketball court, and bowling alley.”

  She sat up and blinked. “Did you say basketball court?”

  “Yep. A library, salon, sunroom, tons of bedrooms, a spa connected to the house, a wine cellar, a tasting room, a media room…” he paused, thinking. “Maybe a few more rooms. I might have forgotten some.”

  “Do you live with your uncle here when you’re not working a contract?”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes. I feel like I’m always working though. I’m not one for downtime.”

  “I would be if I had this.” She whistled. “I’d love to get a look at that spa.”

  He smiled, loving her wonder. “Come on. I’ll show you to your room. Then I’ll yell at you.”

  “If it’s anywhere as nice as this, feel free.”

  He showed her around, taking pride in the house. It was too much for one person. Hell, it was too much for twelve people, but Joe worked and lived in the place. He never went anywhere else. And he’d earned the respite.

  Hammer finally walked her into her room then shut the door behind them.

  She looked around her, scanning the area with her phone, he saw.

  He rolled his eyes. “There are no bugs, Vi. No video cameras. No one standing by to gas you, drug you, or kill you. Well, there’s me, but I’d do it by hand.” He flexed his fingers, wanting to put them on her skin. “Now how about you tell me why you followed me?”

  She ignored him in favor of the king-size bed. “Oh my God. Nag later. This is incredible.” She toed off her shoes and pulled the covers back then slid onto the bed and groaned. “What are these? Nine hundred million thread count sheets?”

  Ignored in favor of a bed. A big, firm, silky bed…

  He pounced, but she didn’t seem to mind. “We’re gonna talk.”

  “Hmm. After.”

  Again, they were on the same page.

  He dug his hands into her hair, holding her while he kissed her, so lost in her taste and touch he didn’t care why she’d followed him. He could only be glad she had.

  Their kisses turned carnal, and then her hand was holding his firm shaft, and his fingers were inside her, pumping while he devoured her mouth.

  Already unzipped, his cock freed from his pants and underwear, Hammer pushed her pants down and pulled her underwear aside, enough to thrust deep inside her.

  They both groaned, and then the race was on to see who could come first. He continued to brush against her clit with each thrust, and it wasn’t long before he shot deep inside her while she clamped tight around him, coming on a moan.

  He felt lightheaded when he finished and would have withdrawn but she stopped him.

  “What’s wrong? You want more already?” He felt loopy, high on endorphins.

  “No. Well, not right now. The bed is too nice. Don’t make a mess.”

  He grinned down at her, seeing a small dimple he hadn’t yet noticed. That last resistance to falling for the woman gave, and he allowed himself to revel in the love he’d never before felt for any woman not family.

  The danger, betrayals, and distrust would come soon enough. Right now, Hammer wanted only one thing. To love Violet Leon.

  Joe Montgomery laughed to himself as he finished cleaning up the kitchen. He’d missed the boy, and though he never admitted it, he loved when Monty came home. They would sit together, arguing and butting heads, too much alike not to, and be a family.

  Strolling through the living area to the public study, he looked at the framed picture of his dead brother and sister-in-law. Even after twenty-two years, he missed them with a fierceness that had the ability to rob his breath. He could still hear his older brother’s laughter, could feel the love Hamilton held for his wife and son.

  Little Hamilton—Monty—had been adorable, his father’s miniature in both looks and temperament. But that big heart he got from his mother. Kerrigan Montgomery had been an altruist, determined to help the planet one heartbeat at a time. A doctor who’d put her practice behind her to join her husband in his dangerous pursuit of justice and the truth, she’d been an invaluable asset to the family business.

  Joe fingered the frame, hoping he’d raised his nephew the way they’d have wanted him to. The Montgomery family lived to serve, and they had no interest in glory. When his great-great and more great grandfather had founded the Business in 1913, they’d started small, helping the war effort. And in time, their practice had grown.

  Technology continued to advance, as did the many villains doing their best to destroy humanity. It wasn’t much, perhaps, in the grand scheme of things, but Joe felt proud his family had helped rid the world of the rapists, murderers, and degenerates destroying so much good. While his brother continued to work with the Business, Joe had joined the CIA.

  He’d learned a lot about the world his brother had been too humane to handle.

  Joe also knew he wasn’t necessarily better than anyone he’d ever terminated. He’d killed, and he’d had no problem with it. He’d done his share of wetwork, like his nephew, good with his fists, a knife, a gun. But now, working from the sidelines enabled him to do so much more.

  Much more than Monty’s handler could do.

  Running the Business was by no means cheap, and sometimes bargains had to be made.

  Monty wouldn’t understand that. Violet might.

  He smiled, knowing what the pair had likely gotten up to on their tour. His nephew had never seemed so agitated—or enthralled—with a woman before. Then again, Violet was extraordinary.

  Unlike her sister’s troubled inability to let the past lie, Violet operated on practicality and a honed instinct to detect danger. She knew who to talk to and how to best get information, had a network of informants that rivaled his, and never let herself fall prey to weaker emotions.

  Poor Angel had been a mess when he’d first met her. But he’d seen the potential, even then. She liked puzzles, and she had an innate sense of how to right wrongs. She had no problem operating in the gray and often did. Until she’d started falling for all the wrong men, something within her too broken to fix.

  He’d tried to help her. But Angel had done what so many troubled souls do—she’d equated lust with love, thinking she might find herself salvageable by giving her body to men and women who clearly didn’t deserve her.

  He’d made a mistake by mentioning her value, and she’d gone undercover to investigate the Prince. Had he known how bad off she’d been, he never would have suggested she pair with the sadistic playboy. But Angel had been so good at playing pretend, she’d convinced everyone that she’d been just fine, one step ahead of Jonas until the end.

  Except she hadn’t been.

  A baby.

  When he’d learned from Hammer about the baby situation, about a few botched assassination attempts against Noel, Deacon, and Hammer on U.S. soil, Joe had immediately intervened.

  He’d fully expected Noel to go to his handler for help with the baby. But Noel hadn’t. Instead, he’d done the smart thing, trying to take care of his problems with his peers, on their own away from prying eyes. Smart.

  Monty too thought he could ignore what his uncle told him and find the truth on his own. A truth that would get him, his friends, and too many others killed.

  Joe knew how to play the game. Monty and his friends only thought they did.

  He picked up his secured phone and dialed. As soon as the other person picked up, he said, “I have them here. I know you want the girl.” He’d b
een debating whether to play his trump card this soon in the game and decided to keep it secret a while longer. “Scoria is headed your way. The story about him being in lockup in Vologda is holding. Remember, we need Scoria alive to take the fall when this mess unfolds.” And “mess” was putting it lightly.

  “Roger that. I’ll be in contact soon.”

  “I’ll send you coordinates to pick up the girl.”

  “You do that. Joe, don’t disappoint me again.”

  The Prince disconnected, and Joe stared at his phone as he placed it back on his desk.

  Sometimes you had to make a deal with the devil to get shit done.

  If only more people understood that the world only existed in the gray. Too bad his black-and-white nephew had never understood that harsh lesson.

  But he soon would.

  Twelve

  Hammer frowned at his charming uncle. The big bastard was keeping something from him, but he had no way to get his answers. The man had undergone years of interrogation training, been captured and tortured by the best, and had never broken. Decorated with ribbons and commendations more times than Hammer could remember, the clandestine operations agent had always been a man to look up to. Hammer couldn’t put his finger on it, but lately Joe had been different.

  More secretive, were that possible.

  They’d spent the evening playing pool, a few rounds of basketball, then bowling.

  “Come on, Joe. I need that DNA,” Hammer insisted as Vi stepped up to knock down her remaining pins. “If you can’t give me that, then I need more info on Jonas Hood and a few other contractors.” He gave Joe a knowing look. “My handler has been a huge pain in the ass, leaving me hanging.”

  “I told you to leave it alone. Jonas is not your concern.”

  “I know he’s alive.”

  Joe didn’t react, which neither confirmed nor denied his death.

  Hammer frowned. “What the hell is really going on? You’ve never been this difficult before.”

  Joe smiled, all teeth. “Not sure what you mean. I’m always difficult.”

  Vi returned, looked at them, and sighed. “He’s not giving you the information you want.”

  “Not a thing.”

  Joe shook his head. “You can badger me all you want, but I don’t have what you need. Now let’s talk about something else. I know, an exercise in values.”

  Hammer groaned. “I hate this.”

  “I know you do, boy.”

  Vi frowned and studied Joe more carefully.

  Hammer didn’t think Joe noticed.

  “Here’s a situation to consider,” his uncle began. “A terrorist has kidnapped a room full of dignitaries, important people holding a summit that will decide the fate of opposing nations, in say, a war-torn landscape, which could have an impact on the world at large. Now this terrorist demands the release of his infant girl. The girl is in her mother’s custody on U.S. soil, where the mother is trading information for safety. Do you give up the baby so hundreds of thousands of people can know peace?”

  “Hold on,” Vi cut in. “That’s a little too simplistic a solution. The baby for world peace?”

  “Not world peace, peace between two smaller countries who’ve always been at war, and who may in turn affect the rest of the world.”

  Hammer shook his head. “We don’t negotiate with terrorists. So, no.”

  Joe sighed. “This is why they call you Destroyer.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Vi interrupted before an argument could break out. “Can I trick the terrorist into thinking I’d give him the girl then renege?”

  “Fuck that,” Hammer said. “He’s a terrorist. Blow his head off and take your peace by force.”

  Vi sighed. “I’m no diplomat, but even I know that never works.”

  “You see?” Joe pointed to Hammer. “You always want to use brute force. Destroying things. Sometimes the enemy has to be wooed, then eliminated.”

  “At what cost?” Hammer shot back. “By giving them an innocent life to protect all those others?”

  “One for the many.” Joe nodded. “Isn’t that what you were taught?”

  Hammer leaned in, tired of these exercises in morality that continued to convince him his uncle had none. Which only made him angry with himself, because Joe had sacrificed an entire fucking life to protect his country and raise his dead brother’s kid. “That’s what some people might say, but we’re not some people. An innocent life is never a fair trade. It’s bullshit.”

  Joe looked to Vi. “Is it, Violet?”

  “Well…”

  Hammer turned to stare in surprise. “Vi?”

  She frowned. “I’m not about killing for the sake of killing. And I’d never want to hurt a child, but I’d look at all my alternatives before making a decision.”

  Hammer didn’t know what to think. “Hold on. You’re telling me you’d take a baby away from her mother, giving the kid to some terrorist who will either end up killing her or making her into another indiscriminate killer, for the greater good?”

  His uncle, he noticed, appeared mesmerized by their discussion.

  “I’m not saying that.” Vi glared at him. “But you’re missing the bigger picture. If one life can save hundreds of thousands of other innocent lives, isn’t it worth it to at least think about how to work around the terrorist’s demands?”

  Joe grinned, loving nothing more than starting shit. “She’s got a point, Monty. One baby’s life to save thousands of other innocent babies? Or does the one baby live, and those thousands of other innocent lives die?”

  Hammer rubbed his temple. “I hate these discussions. They give me a headache.”

  “They aren’t easy, that’s for sure.” Vi agreed.

  “I like you, Violet.” Joe smiled. “You’d cheat your way to victory, I’m sure.”

  She winked. “Maybe.”

  “Kind of like she’s been cheating with bowling,” Hammer noted, amused. “You keep going over the line, Vi. My uncle’s too nice to say anything. I’m not.”

  She sniffed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Joe laughed. “Yep, I like her. Now I hate to do this, but I’m heading out tonight. Duty calls. So, this is my goodbye. Take a few days and relax here. It’s safe, and the place has everything you could ever want.”

  “I did want to check out that spa,” Vi said. “Though we should head back.”

  “Your friends are fine without you. In fact, they’re probably safer with you away.”

  Hammer sat up straight. “What?”

  “I don’t know much, but I do know your enemy wants Violet. You’re a throw-away, Monty. Your death satisfies, but it’s not a necessity.”

  “And mine is?” Vi asked, her voice tight.

  Joe shook his head. “Your death is not on your enemy’s menu. But if he’s who I think he might be, I’d rather be dead than in his care.” Joe stood.

  Hammer stood with him and accepted his uncle’s bear hug. He watched Joe lean over to plant a kiss on Vi’s cheek, taking care not to crowd her.

  “Now, kids, I’d better be off.”

  “But Joe, we need that information,” Hammer said for the umpteenth time. He couldn’t understand his uncle leaving him high and dry like this.

  “Why come to me? Why not ask Phantom? She knows more than anyone in our intelligence crowd.”

  “Her?” Hammer snorted. “Good to know I’m not looking for a man anymore. And sure, I’d get some answers out of Phantom…if I could find her to talk to her.”

  Joe laughed. “Really? Because she’s right here, you big idiot.” He winked at Vi. “Nicely played, dear.” He looked back at Hammer. “Be good, boy. I’ll talk to you later.”

  * * *

  Joe left after dropping that huge-ass bombshell. Hammer looked shocked. And Vi wanted to slap both men—Joe for screwing her cover, and Hammer for lying about his uncle. Be good, boy/girl was their handler’s trademark signoff on any conversation.

/>   Joe Montgomery was in fact Big Joe.

  The name coincidence between Hammer’s uncle and Big Joe aside, Joe had been too nice and unassuming to be truly trusted. But she’d once again ignored her instincts and listened to Hammer when he’d claimed his handler and uncle were not the same.

  I deserve to feel foolish. I know better. Why am I letting great sex muddy my thinking?

  Hammer stood, his expression darkening like a thundercloud, and glared down at her. “Fuck me sideways. All this time you’ve had access to all the intel we could ever need, and you never volunteered it? Seriously?”

  “Big Joe is your uncle. Our handler is your uncle, and you never mentioned that? You have more intel than I ever could! And you want me to believe you still don’t know who’s really behind all this?” She waved angrily around her. “This house. Is it yours? His? Who owns the Business, anyway? Who do we really work for? Do you know or even care?”

  He gave an angry laugh. “I love how you’re blaming me for this. You lied to me.”

  “You lied to me!”

  They stood glaring at each other, frustrated and angry.

  And that anger started turning her on.

  Sometimes she hated herself. “I need space away from you.”

  “Fine. Leave. In fact, feel free to go wherever the hell you want. I’m done chasing after you, Phantom.” Hammer muttered under his breath as he stormed away, and Vi wanted to yell at him to just go, if only to have the last word.

  But I’m not that immature. She consoled herself with that fact as she sat and stared at a freaking bowling alley in a huge ass mansion owned by her handler. If he did own it, which he’d claimed he didn’t.

  And then the real truth settled in, and she had to face facts.

  Hammer’s uncle was Big Joe—a man who knew about all of them. He’d also been Angel’s handler. Now she had to wonder if he’d known Angel and Vi were sisters. And if he did, how did that relate to baby Gunnar, to a nameless enemy out to get her, and to Jonas Hood?

  Her brain hurt, and she decided to enjoy what little time she had left before she should go. Her heart felt heavy, as if she mourned the loss of fragile trust between her and Hammer with a greater weight than she should feel.

 

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