True Deceptions (True Lies)

by Veronica Forand

  “Fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” She lifted her arms over her head and yawned, as though she’d slept with a million guys.

  “Because my bedside manner sucks. I overreacted.”

  She didn’t want him to get all sentimental. “Simon. This is a professional relationship only. I need to be intimate with you so we’re convincing lovers to the rest of the world.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Absolutely.”

  His eyebrows lifted, and the corner of his mouth almost made it into a half smile. “And now we can just sleep together whenever the need arises, without any emotional attachment?”

  “Sure.” Sleeping with Simon on a regular basis would not be a good idea. She could name about thousand reasons to keep her distance, but her body craved him like it needed air.

  “Interesting. By the way, how many men have you slept with? I’m only asking in my capacity as your professional lover.”

  “You first.”

  “Forty seven. And I’ve never had a johnny break on me before.”

  “A what?”

  “A condom. And you?”

  “The same. I’ve never had sex when the condom broke.”

  “That’s not the question.”

  “Does it matter?” she asked.

  “Yes. Strictly on a professional level, I need to understand your level of experience.”

  “You do not. It wouldn’t matter if I was a virgin or had slept with a hundred men.”

  “You are so wrong.” He stood over the bed, staring down at her. Intimidating as hell, but in a really erotic way.

  She didn’t want to answer and should probably bluff to make herself seem more sophisticated, but he didn’t seem to find her sophisticated in the least. She covered her face with the blanket to her nose and whispered, “Four.”

  He stalked closer until he was leaning directly over her.

  “Come again?” He tugged the sheet to fall just below her chin.

  “Four.”

  His face came even closer to her, and she could feel his breath tickle her skin. “When was the last time?”

  “Twenty minutes ago. Fantastic, by the way. Those forty plus women must have been thrilled to be one of your conquests.”

  He didn’t even smile. “Before that?”

  She tried not to alter her face, but her mouth automatically tightened as though hiding something. The worst field agent ever. “I’m not a prude or anything. But I prefer to date guys a few times before I sleep with them. Not many stick around long enough.”

  He lifted his brows and waited for the direct answer to his question.

  Fine. “The last time happened about five years ago in graduate school. A drunken night on the beach, a bonfire and a sleeping bag, and then in the morning trying to forget it ever happened.” She lifted the covers again to hide the flames heating her cheeks, but he pulled them away from her face.

  He sighed. “You deserve better than that. And this.”

  “You don’t think I’m harboring feelings for you, do you? No offense, but you’re not really my type.”

  His hand pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear, and she struggled to restrain herself from moaning at his touch. “What is your type?”

  “Less violent, more of an equal in bed. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed being manhandled, but usually I like more control.” She turned away from him and tried to hide the tears threatening to form.

  “I think you had too much control in bed this time.”

  “I did?”

  He turned around, displaying wide shoulders tapering into a tight rear end and muscular legs. His perfectly shaped back, however, was marked by several red streaks. They seemed raw and painful.

  “I did that?”

  “I prefer the short blue daisies to the red daggers.” He spun around and grinned, and she almost melted into a puddle of lust.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  By the time he crawled onto the bed, he was fully erect and ready to continue this new aspect of their working relationship. Did she want this? Yes.

  He pried the edge of the sheet from around her body and pulled it down to her knees. “The bra has to go this time. And we’re using something that isn’t expired.” He tossed a new condom onto her chest, and reached between her breasts to unsnap the bra, letting it open in front.

  “I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

  “This has nothing to do with obligation. You seemed unhappy with my technique last time, so I’m giving you the chance to take control.” With a quick twist, he stretched onto his back and placed his hands behind his head, the same position he always slept in. “Do whatever you wish. No restraints, however. If someone comes in to kill us, I need to be able to reach my gun.”

  Cassie closed her mouth. Her jaw must have dropped the moment the huge, naked god stretched out beside her and offered himself to her to do anything she wanted. Could she really take him on? She did proposition him, and he did accept. Sure. She could take control of this situation and prove to him she wasn’t some wilting violet.

  Slipping the bra straps off her shoulders, she knelt beside the confident guy staring at her with a blaze in his eyes that incinerated any hesitation she might have felt. “First, I need you to promise not to move, unless an armed gunman breaks down the door.”

  He grinned. “I promise.”

  “Good. I’m not the best agent in the field, so I need to know you are. This is a test of your self-control.” She bent toward his feet and pulled her finger across the arch of his foot. His muscles tensed, but he remained in place. “Very good.”

  She rubbed his feet and then massaged his ankles and calf. As she moved up his leg, his muscles twitched, every intimate one of them. Instead of showering him with attention, she sat back and stared. He was not enjoying himself, if the creases in his forehead and the clenching of his jaw told the truth. Too bad. He’d given her control.

  She placed her hand in the middle of his chest. His heartbeat thumped against her fingers, but he remained with his hands tucked behind his head. A light dusting of dark hair covered his pectoral muscles, and she rubbed her hands over them then finally gave in and allowed her tongue the opportunity to enjoy tasting his chest, from the bottom of his sternum to the top. She took her own sweet time, until she needed more from him.

  Straddling him, she reached for the condom and opened it. Simon’s thigh muscles twitched as though he wanted to jump up, but he remained where he was.

  After rolling it over him, she placed herself slowly on top. A position of control. Or so she’d heard. She leaned forward, and her hands rested on his shoulders. “You can use your hands, if you want.”

  “You trust I won’t take control?” His hands wrapped around her waist.

  She rocked forward and back, taking the time to experience every bit of him. His groans made her feel even more powerful.

  Minutes passed as pleasure and ripples of ecstasy pulverized her senses, and then Simon tightened his grip on her waist, lifted her off him, and forced her back down. Hard. The axis of the universe shifted into something so amazing, she could have died right then with a smile on her face and zero regrets.

  “Should I move my hands back behind my head?” he asked, almost in a challenge.

  Cassie’s head fell back as she experienced the best ride of her life. “I’m granting you control for this one task. Don’t stop. Ever.”

  They continued until she was coming apart, and he was dominating the situation. She didn’t care. The pressure built, and the unrelenting pounding took her higher than she’d ever gone. He controlled them right to the end, until he fell back on the pillow, and she fell forward onto his chest, exhausted and completely sated.

  Simon’s arms felt like home. Her plan to prove how capable she was as a field agent only proved how vulnerable her heart was where Simon was concerned.

  “I could stay here forever,” she mumbled to herself.

  He turned his head away from her and exhaled. “This isn�
�t the life for you, angel. You need to finish the assignment with me and then move on to someone who will be a forever type of guy.”

  “Trust me, I know.”

  After Simon, however, forever with another man seemed impossible to fathom.

  Chapter Nine

  Each night, Simon watched Cassie sleep and wished he could tether her to him—for both her safety and his happiness. By morning, however, reality would kick its way into his psyche. She deserved so much better than him. Yet how could he ignore her blushing rose-colored cheeks after a night in bed, or the way she feathered her fingers over his hand when she wanted his attention?

  He’d once prayed that Nicola had cared about him in a similar way. Nicola, however, had been a different bird, more like a hawk than a sparrow. And the hawk had focused on avenging her brother’s death to the exclusion of everything else. The sparrow, however, seemed content just to be in Simon’s presence. No alternative agenda. No plan for world domination. Her innocence dug deep into his skin.

  Late one afternoon, as he stared at his computer screen and tried to concentrate on the meeting in Jordan, he heard the patter of Cassie’s bare feet.

  “I made dinner.” She’d slipped in behind him and was pressing his shoulders with her thumbs in a move that could start as a massage but escalate quickly into something that involved the edge of his desk and the disappearance of her clothes. He dropped his head back and looked up at his biggest mistake to date. Blue eyes, blonde hair, and lips that felt perfect on his own.

  He swung around in his chair and faced her. “If you’re offering lentils, you’ll have to eat alone. I’ll head down to the pub for a burger.”

  “It’s linguine with vegetables. Not a lentil on your plate.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful for the lack of lentils, but what are we having for protein.”

  “I have chickpea salad to go with it.” She led him to the kitchen.

  “I’m shocked you’re not anemic.”

  “I’m shocked your arteries aren’t completely blocked with all the meat you eat.”

  “It’s necessary. Meat builds muscle.”

  “I do appreciate the muscle.” She clasped his shoulders and gave him a quick kiss.

  He appreciated her.

  She’d set the table with a single candle, a small vase of flowers she’d picked up at the market, and his old white dishes. With the lights low and the candle flickering, the room had a rustic and romantic charm. Two glasses of red wine perfected the peaceful setting. He could eat like this every night, meat be damned.

  Cassie strolled over from the counter with a bowl containing the main course. “I eat better than you and take a multivitamin to make up for what I miss.”

  Before he could educate her on the problems with multivitamins, his phone rang.

  “Dunn.”

  “Teodor. We have a problem.”

  Their last transaction involving the diamonds had wrapped up fine. Even Bio had walked away unscathed.

  Simon clasped Cassie’s hand and pulled her into his arms. “We don’t have a deal brewing presently, so I don’t have any problems.”

  “I arranged this deal with Grisha before you came back.”

  “So let Grisha finish it.” As a middleman, Simon brought buyers and sellers together and made sure everyone received what they’d ordered. He also handled transportation logistics and methods of payment. Failure to work cooperatively resulted in negative economic—or other more creative—repercussions.

  Grisha, born within walking distance to the Kremlin, hated Teodor’s Ukrainian blood and the money he made from his corrupt practices. The Russian would rat out his mother to save his arse.

  “Grisha was arrested outside his flat in Moscow this morning. They’ve already seized his assets and have sent a team of inspectors to claim my cargo for Russia. I emptied the warehouse as best I could, but the FSB is in pursuit. Our plane hasn’t touched down yet. If they reach us, they’ll claim we stole everything in our hold from their weapons cache.”

  “You did.”

  “Semantics. These are the guns we’ve been selling for three years. No one has claimed them before. Just help me split up the cargo and hide it for a few months.”

  Shit.

  If Teodor went down, half of Simon’s European operation would falter. He needed him in the game for at least another year or two until Simon could secure a more permanent retirement. Teodor’s words had definitely screwed up Simon’s plan for a quiet night with Cassie.

  “Land your plane as soon as possible. Find a field if necessary,” he demanded.

  “My pilots want to land in Paris. France is the safest place when it comes to extradition.”

  “Don’t kid yourself. The Russians make deals with France all the time. Land in Austria. It’ll be safer.”

  “They won’t let us land.”

  “Where’s the transfer site?”

  “The Paris location.”

  There was nothing else he could do but go save the idiot’s ass. “You owe me, Teodor. My price is double, plus you pay for the gas in my bird.”

  “Fine.”

  “I’m on the way.” He hung up and ignored Cassie’s confused expression. Then he dialed up Fitz, his head of operations, and gave him the details of the meeting. “I need a car to the heliport. And a full crew. Thanks.”

  Cassie was still holding his hand and waiting with a thousand questions.

  “You’re leaving right now?”

  “I need to change first.” He kissed her cheek and then let her go.

  “Oh.” She picked up the bowl of pasta and vegetables and placed it back on the counter. “When will you be back?”

  If things didn’t go as planned, he’d need someone on a computer to assist. Someone with a PhD and a need to please. And if things went well, there was always an evening in Paris to look forward to. He tipped back half his glass of wine and made a decision, for better or worse. “Get dressed, angel. You’re coming with me.”

  “I am?” A slow hesitation laced her words, but the spark of excitement in her eyes told him he’d said the right thing.

  “You need a cocktail dress, preferably black. And heels so high you’ll intimidate every man who comes near you.” Except me.

  Her eyes scanned her table setting.

  “The helicopter leaves in twenty minutes. Dinner can wait.”

  “Helicopter?” she asked.

  “Battersea to Paris. We’ll be in the air about an hour and half. Can you handle it?’

  “Yes.”

  “Then get ready. I need an international model at my side, and you look like I’ve dragged you from a farm somewhere.” Actually, she looked like she just fell out of his bed, in soft gray sweatpants with hair that he’d held tight as they kissed.

  “Okay.” She headed off to the bedroom.

  He followed, but ignored her so he could think clearly about kicking Teodor’s ass for bringing him in at the last moment. It only took ten minutes to throw on a black Armani suit and the appropriate accessories. Cassie took a bit longer. The extra time was worth it. She wore a short black dress that exposed her legs to mid-thigh, and heels that took her height to the stratosphere. Her hair was secured in a twist, leaving her neck exposed…and very vulnerable to his lips.

  “Is this all right?” she asked.

  He pulled her in to his arms. “Perfect. Just make sure to stay by my side at all times. And act sort of clueless.”

  “That shouldn’t be hard, according to Tucker.”

  “Tucker’s an imbecile.” He grazed her skin with his teeth and held back on letting his hands drift down to her thighs. They needed to leave.

  When he pulled away from her, she sighed. At that moment he would have sold his soul to steal her away to the countryside and live out their lives with a million kids and a vegetable garden. To hell with Tucker and MI6.

  But they’d find him again. And Cassie. And fuck everything up.

  “Wait here.” He went to the
safe in the front closet and took out a ruby necklace and earrings—the same color as those blood red nails of hers. “If you’re going to be seen as my date, you need to look like I spoil you rotten.”

  Her eyes widened with admiration and some hesitation. “Thanks. I promise I’ll take care of them for you.”

  She put the earrings on and allowed him to drape the necklace around her neck. After he clasped the necklace, he lingered at an earlobe, biting at the earring. Then he pulled away before he carried her to the couch and forgot about Teodor.

  “They’re yours to keep. Consider them a hardship bonus.”

  Her hand touched the ruby on the necklace. “I can’t take these.”

  “Angel, no one deserves them more. Come on, our car is waiting.”

  Cassie had no idea what to expect on this trip to Paris, but it was already more exciting than the journey to Sofia and back. She touched the ruby in her necklace. The stone alone was worth more than all of her current assets combined. It would be the perfect souvenir for her time with Simon. The thought of leaving him after her assignment shot a pain straight through the center of her chest, but Simon didn’t seem the type to settle down to an office job, long commute, and only one woman. He seemed more prone to one-night stands and moving from hotel to hotel.

  He helped her into a chauffeured car, and they were whisked away to the heliport at Battersea, just across the river from Simon’s flat.

  “Remember. You’re a receptionist at Sainsbury’s main offices. You dropped out of university, and you live with me.” Simon’s words came out as a command, as though he were speaking to one of his men on the phone. “And don’t talk to anyone, about anything.”

  “Then why do I need to memorize my background information?”

  His eyebrows furrowed, and his mouth pinched. His threats, however, didn’t work on her anymore. He was egotistical, a control freak, and a demanding boss, but he was also protective, considerate of her feelings—when work wasn’t involved—and an amazing lover. “I need you to know who you are for when someone guns me down and kidnaps you. If you don’t reveal your skill set, they won’t torture you for hours trying to gain any information you may be holding. It matters.”