by Cathy Pegau
She was in no mood to deal with anything but a glass of whisky. A couple of drinks and some anonymous company was what she needed.
The soles of her boots rang on the tiled floor as she strode across the lobby to the main entrance. She shoved open the revolving door, overriding the electronic detectors that had sensed her approach and begun the perfect speed of revolution. Straining her muscles against the resistance of the metal and plasti-glass felt good, especially if she pretended the door was Garces.
Out on the street in front of the Pandalus office of CMA headquarters, Natalia cinched the tie of her coat tighter and stopped to take a head-clearing breath. Wind that had rushed down the slopes of the distant mountain range funneled between mega scrapers, blowing frigid air and grit along the walkway. Summer on Nevarro’s North Continent felt a lot like its winter.
It wasn’t snowing yet, and no one seemed to be in a hurry to get indoors. Ground cars hissed past on the wet street as air cars cruised high overhead, their speed deceptively lethargic compared to the vehicles on the street. Lighted signs flashed adverts for everything from bubbly drinks to new, smaller comms to eateries.
Natalia maneuvered around slower foot traffic and followed a familiar path to her favorite after-work bar.
* * *
The sign for The Hotel Carmen came into view, and Natalia sighed in relief as well as self-reproach. She visited The Carmen more often than she should, especially in the last few weeks. A drink after work was one thing. Several drinks several evenings in a row and one-nighters that rarely lasted until morning more than twice a week was not good. She could blame Garces all she wanted, but it would be better for her to find another way to cope with him and the stress of work.
Just not today.
She stepped inside and took a deep breath of the mingled scents of wood polish, fruity alcohol and warm bodies. Six or eight people sat at the bar, and small groups occupied a few tables to the right. Reba, the bartender, looked up when she entered. Natalia held up two fingers then gestured to the left. Reba waved acknowledgement and handed a tall glass of black beer to a man.
Soft lighting and dark paneling made the bar seem cool and dim, but it was a good twenty degrees warmer than outside. Natalia slipped her coat off and headed to a larger seating and dancing area to the left. She sat at a table for two with her back to the wall, facing the door.
Reba approached, tray in hand. “Rough day?” She set down the whiskies. Two centimeters of amber liquid gently sloshed in each squat glass.
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Natalia took out her comm. She approved the cost of the drinks and a generous tip to be deducted from her personal account. “Thanks.”
Reba glanced at the comm on her tray and gave a wide grin. “Thank you,” she said then returned to the bar.
As usual, the first whisky went down fast, burning despite the high quality of the liquor. Natalia closed her eyes, the heat filling her sinuses, throat and chest as it made a path to her stomach. Only after it settled there did the delicate oak and floral essence hit her palate. Some would say gulping fine whisky was a sin, but she needed the kick.
Opening her eyes, Natalia lifted the second glass and sipped, tasting the mellow undertones this time. A few regulars sat at the bar, ignoring her as she ignored them.
The door opened, and a tall, stunning woman with windblown, golden-brown hair walked in. She was about Natalia’s age, somewhere in her mid-thirties unless she’d had cosmetic nanos implanted. Her worn leather coat stopped at curvy hips; dark trousers covered long legs. She slid her hand along the closure of her jacket as she shut the door. The jacket slipped down her arms, and she caught it before it hit the floor. Her snug green sweater hugged generous breasts and a trim waist.
Natalia gave a soft moan of appreciation.
The woman scanned the front area of the bar, taking it in, not as if she were looking for a particular person. She swept long bangs back off her forehead. Her gaze traveled to the section where Natalia sat. Their eyes met, and Natalia smiled. The woman smiled back then took a seat at the bar, her profile toward Natalia.
Ah well, maybe she is waiting for someone.
Several more patrons entered, giving Natalia a few more subjects to absently watch while she sipped and pushed the mess with Garces as far out of her mind as she could. A couple in the corner argued quietly, tense faces and abrupt hand gestures broadcasting their disagreement as loudly as a shouting match. She turned away, allowing them what little privacy they could have in a crowded bar, and focused on the smiling, laughing customers. Who might be looking for the type of company she desired tonight? Something—someone—to keep her mind off the job for a couple of hours?
Dance music suddenly blasted out of the concealed speakers. People made their way to the open center of the floor and started gyrating. Watching the couples, threesomes and foursomes swaying together, sometimes kissing or stroking, separating then finding new partners, mystified Natalia. Casual sex was one thing, but she wasn’t one to share once she was in a longer relationship. Her ex, Sophie, had said it was her jealousy and need for control that kept Natalia from enjoying more inspired encounters. Natalia had argued it was more a matter of focusing on that one person. Sophie certainly hadn’t complained about Natalia’s single-mindedness when they were together.
Reba wove through the bodies, tray held high, and set another whisky on the table.
Natalia peered up at her, one eyebrow cocked. She hadn’t ordered a third but had been considering it. “You reading customers’ minds all of a sudden?”
The younger woman smiled. “Nah. This one’s from an admirer.”
The brunette in the green sweater stepped from behind Reba. Her brown eyes found Natalia’s, and Natalia stifled a sharp breath; she was even more striking up close.
“My name’s Gennie,” the woman said, her voice as mellow as the whisky in the glass. “Mind if I join you?”
* * *
Natalia stood behind Gennie at the hotel room door while the other woman fished her key card from her jacket pocket. She ran her hands over the brunette’s hips and brought their bodies together while nuzzling the back of her neck. The floral aroma of her silky hair filled Natalia’s senses.
Gennie turned her head and brushed her lips across Natalia’s, breaking contact before Natalia could deepen the kiss. “You’re making it very difficult for me to open the door.”
Natalia slipped her hands under Gennie’s sweater and caressed her way up the flat stomach to the undersides of her breasts, controlling the urge to go further. “Sorry.”
She grinned. “Liar.”
The lock mechanism beeped, and Gennie levered the handle. Natalia guided her through, shutting the door behind them. Hands back on the other woman’s waist, she turned Gennie around and pressed her against the wall, body to body, mouth on mouth. They were almost the same height, their breasts creating delicious friction as they moved together. Gennie’s full lips parted, their tongues twined. She tasted of whisky and heat, and Natalia wanted more.
Gennie moaned into Natalia’s mouth as she ran her hands along Natalia’s arms. She pushed the long coat off Natalia’s shoulders, and the garment dropped to the floor with a soft thud. For half a second, Natalia thought about the pulser holstered at her hip. The piece and holster were bio-coded, so there was no fear of Gennie getting the weapon out, let alone using it against her. Would the pulser scare the woman? Turn her on?
Gennie trailed her fingernails along the front waistband of Natalia’s trousers then up under her sweater. She caressed Natalia’s side with one hand, moving higher with each stroke until she reached Natalia’s breasts, her palm hot. The other hand stayed at Natalia’s back, fingertips tracing a tantalizing figure-eight pattern that dipped below her waistband.
Natalia’s heart rate kicked up, and her breathing increased. An electric zing shot fro
m her nipples to her groin. She kissed Gennie’s neck, taking in her sweet, musky scent as she nudged the green sweater up. She cupped Gennie’s bare breasts and circled the taut nipples with her thumbs.
Gennie arched her back, pressing her hips against Natalia’s.
She took the gold stud in Gennie’s earlobe between her lips and tugged, smiling when Gennie sucked in a breath. Natalia gently bit then kissed the side of her neck, her cheek, her lips. “You taste and feel amazing.”
“You too,” Gennie said, “but...”
Natalia felt a hesitancy shimmer through the woman. Was she having second thoughts about inviting a stranger to her room? But then Gennie deepened the kiss, belying that notion.
Still kissing, Natalia guided her toward the bed across the room. A little apprehension could be as erotic as confidence.
A sharp pain surged across Natalia’s lower back. Instinctively, she pushed away from Gennie, blinking at sudden blurry vision. Her legs wobbled, and she stumbled in an effort to brace herself against the wall.
“I’m sorry,” Gennie said, her voice sounding like it was coming through layers of cotton wool.
“What the hell did you do to me?” The words formed in Natalia’s brain but came out a mumbled mess. Then there was nothing.
Chapter Two
Genevieve Caine dropped the sedative cartridge and rushed forward to catch Natalia before she crashed to the floor. It was bad enough she’d just drugged the CMA agent; adding a concussion to the mix was not ideal.
“Umph.” The agent was heavier than her slender body suggested, likely due to the physical training required by the CMA. No weakling herself, Gennie managed to slip her arms under Natalia and lay her on the bed.
Gennie straightened her arms and legs and checked the pulse at Natalia’s throat. Strong and steady. The fast-acting drug was relatively safe, but adverse reactions were not unheard of. It also wore off almost as quickly as it took effect.
She removed Natalia’s belt and holster and set them on the floor beside the bed.
She didn’t want an angry, armed woman waking up in the confines of the hotel room. An angry, well-trained CMA agent. No sense in taking chances.
Gennie retrieved a small black bag from under the bed and opened it. Inside, beneath her neatly folded clothes, were three cans of Insta-Heat soup, two more sedative packets, a throwaway comm, thin leatherette gloves and several lengths of cord. It paid to be prepared for anything.
She withdrew the cords and slid the bag back under the bed. The soft, woven polycarbon blend would hold without abrading flesh. She secured the first cord around both of Natalia’s wrists then raised her arms over her head. Gennie tied her to the bed’s sleek, slatted headpiece. A second cord secured the agent’s feet to the lower end of the bed.
When she’d checked into The Carmen, after following Natalia for several days, Gennie had noted the design of the furniture with satisfaction. The need to secure the agent had been a potential part of this encounter; the slats saved her from tying Natalia’s wrists to her ankles, an uncomfortable and humiliating position.
“These would have been much more fun to use under different circumstances.” She tugged on both cords to check the knots and looked at Natalia’s face, peaceful and relaxed under the influence of the drug. A lock of blond hair lay over her eyes. Gennie tucked it behind her ear, gliding her fingers along Natalia’s smooth cheek. “Much more fun.”
Natalia mumbled and her eyelids fluttered. Gennie quickly withdrew her hand and settled into the lone straight-backed chair beside the bed. She crossed her legs in a casual manner that belied her roiling stomach. This had to work, or she was screwed.
As if someone threw a switch, the CMA agent came fully awake and strained against the cords, her beautiful face a snarling mask. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m sorry, Agent Hallowell, but this was the only way I could think of to get you to talk to me without being arrested.” Or without being found by the Reyes family.
If Natalia was surprised Gennie knew her last name and position, she didn’t let it show. “You could have made an appointment. That’s the normal procedure.”
Gennie shifted on the hard chair. “These aren’t normal circumstances.”
“No fucking kidding.” Natalia took a deep breath and released it slowly, her eyes hard on Gennie. “Who are you, and what do you want?”
“My name is Gennie, but you might know me as Genevieve Caine.” She let that sink in for a moment, wondering if the agent recognized her name. Natalia’s features never wavered from torqued curiosity. “I wanted to speak to Nathan Sterling, but he wasn’t available.”
“Again, you could have left a message.”
Gennie couldn’t contain her wry smile. “Saying what? That the woman who used to work for Sterling’s companion’s drug-dealing ex-lover wanted to see him? I have my reasons for avoiding a record of my whereabouts.”
Her eight-year employment with drug dealer Guy Christiansen had been responsible for many life-changing events. Most surprisingly positive, considering what he’d had her do. But her history with Christiansen wasn’t the problem. Not directly.
“There aren’t any warrants out for your arrest.” Natalia tugged at the restraints on her wrists. “Yet.”
So she did know who Gennie was. That would make this somewhat easier.
“If I couldn’t speak to Sterling, I needed to talk to someone he trusts. The only person I could think of is you.”
Agent Sterling had infiltrated Christiansen’s drug business six months ago to rescue his sister. After Gennie had helped them escape, Sterling had had her take his sister to CMA headquarters, specifically naming Natalia Hallowell as the person to meet. Gennie had dropped the girl off at the building then promptly made herself scarce. When she decided it was time to call in the favor, Gennie had sought out Sterling, to no avail. She couldn’t wait for him to eventually show. Talking to Hallowell seemed to be the next best option.
“Being tied to a bed doesn’t exactly foster trust, or interest in anything you have to say,” Natalia said.
Gennie leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “I know, and I’m sorry, but I couldn’t just walk up to you and start a conversation. Not this conversation.”
“I promise not to arrest you. Let me go.”
Gennie shook her head. “Not yet.”
Natalia went still, her blue eyes as intense as twin laser torches. “Why not?”
“You have to understand that I didn’t choose this method lightly. Believe me. I have no intention of hurting you. In fact, I need your help.”
Gennie expected her to laugh. After being knocked out and tied up by a woman with criminal associations, how could she do anything but laugh at the insanity of the request?
Instead, Natalia stared at her. “Sterling let me in on a few things he didn’t include in his official report,” the agent said evenly. “He told me about you, about what you did to help him, Sasha and his sister. That is the only thing you have going for you right now. Luring me up here and doing this is negating all that good will.” Her hands fisted over her head, turning her knuckles bloodless white. Without changing her tone, she said, “Let. Me. Go.”
“Agent Hallowell, I’m going to be completely honest with you on this account. I have no plans to untie you until after you listen to me. Accept that now, or this is going to be a very long, very uncomfortable night.”
The muscles along Natalia’s jaw bunched and her body tensed. Gennie was glad she’d opted to restrain her. Merely holding a stunner on the agent would have been risky, considering the woman’s training.
“It seems I have no choice.”
Neither do I. “A choice to listen to me, no. To do what I’m asking afterward?” Gennie shrugged and shook her head. “I’ll have to take my chances.”
They held each other’s gazes for several moments. Natalia relaxed against her restraints, but her eyes never lost their intensity. Gennie almost smiled. Having Natalia Hallowell as an ally would likely accomplish her plan. Having her as an enemy would be distressing, to say the least. Even if Natalia decided to help her, Gennie knew this episode would not be forgotten, nor easily forgiven.
“Fine. So what do you need from me, Caine?”
“Reyes Corporation is giving me trouble. Help me distract them so I can leave Nevarro.”
Natalia’s eyes narrowed. “Reyes? The ore buyers? Why are they bothering you? Why don’t they want you to leave the planet?”
“I have something they want.” Gennie didn’t react to the image that surfaced in her head. She needed to keep her focus and not betray herself to the agent. Branson and Melaine were none of her business.
Natalia frowned. “You stole something from them. I can’t—”
“No,” Gennie said, digging her fingertips into her thighs. The pain helped to keep her from losing control at the thought of what Marta and Jackson Reyes were doing. “What I have is mine. But they have a hell of a lot more ways and means than I do at the moment.”
That was an understatement. It had taken all of her resources and then some to dodge the Reyeses for the last three months. Her credit account was dwindling, and she was getting more tired and anxious every day. That would lead to mistakes she couldn’t afford.
She crossed her legs. Natalia flicked a glance to her raised foot then back up to her eyes. Gennie realized her foot was bobbing, showing agitation she hadn’t suppressed. She stopped her jittery movement.
Damn it.
She laced her fingers together and sat back in the chair, projecting as much cool confidence she could despite the fact that her gut had tightened. “I need to distract them so I can get off-world. Then you and I will both be happy, I assure you.”