Seduced

by Angel Payne

“I’m so, so sorry to bust in on you here,” she declared to Lor, acting the part of a production minion to perfection. “I mean, everyone on set knows how important this photo shoot is. I normally wouldn’t have left to come bother you like a stalker in the corn, but with the shooting schedule changing up to allow all this, along with the extra rehearsals everyone’s attending for the live broadcast, I didn’t know when we would see you on set again, and—”

  “It’s fine.” The man had clearly reached the tolerance point for his accountant’s babbling, no matter how stunning her rack. “How can I help you?”

  “We just need these checks signed.” She giggled and bobbed her head back and forth. “You know what they say. Gotta pay the piper, right?”

  Lor obliged “Ronnie” by scribbling on a handful of checks. Luna maintained the chatter stream the whole time, commenting on everything from the weather to a “mighty fine wedding reception” she attended at the hotel up the hill a few years back. Tait couldn’t keep his eyes off her. The way the woman committed to her cover identity… It was goddamned impressive, a skill at which even well-trained agents had to labor. She fascinated him even deeper. Made him want her even more.

  Burned him up with the longing to protect her. Especially now.

  He wasn’t clueless about this shit. Luna had been sent here without previous notification to any of them, meaning it was urgent—and also required her to get so close to Lor, she could likely tell what he’d had for lunch just by sniffing his breath. It set Tait on a razor’s edge of apprehension, especially when he watched her slip a hand into the man’s inner jacket pocket.

  Screw the pooch sideways. If Lor noticed her action in the tiniest corner of his eye, “Ronnie” would be caught and—

  Caught at what?

  Tait muffled a growl. From the grunt that came from Kell, who’d made his way back to his side, it didn’t sound like he was the only one. “What the hell’s going on?” his friend grumbled.

  Tait gave him three syllables in answer. “NFC.” No fucking clue.

  Lor pivoted back on Luna just as her palm cleared the pocket.

  The man’s face darkened to a full glower.

  For two seconds.

  “Bee!”

  Luna whacked at his coat and the air, adding shrieks to the mix. A loud clang from the tent compounded the chaos. Ava winced sheepishly in front of the prop hookah and copper urn she’d just toppled.

  “What the hell?” Grant yelled.

  “My thought precisely.” Lor glared at Luna.

  “It…it was a big bee,” she explained. “Really. Willikers, it was huge!”

  “I just need to know if it’s gone.” The interjection came from Ava. She was in the corner of the tent, visibly shaking now. “S-Sorry. I’m allergic. A lot allergic. And my epi pen is—”

  “Where?” Ethan issued the charge, enforcing it by lunging off the bed and to her side. Fulsom fumed in impatience, Bella frowned in confusion…and Ava bowed her head in submission.

  Comprehension slammed Tait now. Archer wasn’t just playing with the idea of being with Ava. Hell, he’d already gone there—and was clearly burning to go back again. No wonder the guy’s tension level was taking bites out of the ozone layer. Adding insult on top of that injury on this crazy anomaly of a mission was the target who’d made Ava his target. If Lor hadn’t made that obvious before now, he did so by rushing to Ava himself, clutching both her shoulders in order to turn her totally from Ethan.

  “Mi dolce,” he murmured, “I had no idea about your condition. Perhaps it is not a good idea for you to be out here, sì?”

  “She’s not an invalid.” Ethan exhaled, clearly trying to be diplomatic instead of defensive. “She just has to make sure her epinephrine pen is nearby.” He hiked a brow at Ava. “And it is, right?”

  Tait didn’t know whether to slam his hands to his face or whomp them in applause. Had Archer just pulled an openly Dominant move on Ava while she stood in the arms of another man?

  As riveted as he was by the cojones of his teammate, another sight took urgent priority. Knowing Kell had an eye on things under the tent, he took advantage of the chance to beat feet toward “Ronnie,” who gathered up her folder and purse and then hustled her tight-skirted ass back toward the Huntington’s main entrance.

  He followed her into the next themed botanical area, a collection of palm species that formed a lush grove around winding paths. Despite tottering on the hard-packed trail in those damn heels, Luna picked up the pace, looking like she was fleeing a swarm of zombies.

  He caught up to her at a spot where the path expanded into a little clearing that included a bench and natural rock waterfall. He would’ve chuckled at how incongruous she looked, missing only the pencil in her ear in a setting that warranted more a caftan and flats, but he was busy fighting off the alarms of apprehension she’d set off ever since her hand came out of Lor’s pocket.

  “Luna. Luna.” After a burst of speed, he was able to pull her into an area submerged in deep shade. He expected her to struggle a little. He didn’t expect the whack she sent across his face. “What the hell?” he seethed. “It’s me, damn it.”

  “I’m aware of that.” She stared back with eyes that were darkened by abject panic as well as the dreaded blue contacts. “I’m also aware that I don’t have time for your drama right now, Weasley. Let me go.”

  Good thing for her he was an expert on shoving aside frustration in favor of rational thought. “Imagine that. I don’t have time for drama either, especially after I watched you pinch something from Lor’s jacket. Based on the determination that those checks are fakes and your real reason for getting here so urgently was whatever you took from—”

  She silenced him by holding up one object. A black computer memory stick. “You mean this?” While he gaped at the treasure, she explained, “Rhett caught a break when he lingered after a script revision meeting. He saw Lor move the stick from his satchel into the jacket. We moved fast, not knowing how long he’d keep it there.”

  He clenched his jaw as his senses seesawed between elation and irritation. “I don’t know whether to kiss you for the stones it took to do that or boot your ass for not letting us handle it.”

  “Right,” she sneered, “because Lor’s suspicions wouldn’t have spiked with even one of you Tarzans pawing at him. And don’t harp at me about how you would’ve tricked him out of the jacket by spilling something on him or whatever the new SOF trick is. Short of burning the thing off his body, none of you were getting close to it anytime soon.”

  “Okay. Point taken. But what happens when he notices the stick’s gone? He tucked it in close for a reason.”

  “I’m new, not stupid. Slipped a duplicate in its place. With any luck, we’ve bought ourselves a few hours, maybe longer. Let’s just hope the stick still works with the first laptop.”

  She finished that by peering around him, still breathing hard as if she expected those zombies to bear down on them any second. Tait gave in to the craving to nudge her face around with a firm hand, backing it up with an unwavering stare down at her. “So you headed back to the studio now?”

  “No!” She forced down a long breath before repeating in a more subdued cadence, “No. Ronnie is leaving the Accounting pool and going back to Arkansas right away. From now on, I’m back to playing exclusive engagements at the Foxfire. Laudia the smart-ass bartender will keep mixing the G and T’s while praying her buddy Enzo isn’t into playing the gee, you remind me of someone game.”

  The words shifted into sarcasm, but everything about her face, from the evasion of her eyes to the trembles of her lips, betrayed what was really going on beneath her bravado. “Hey,” he murmured, prodding her face higher. “Listen to me. Colton knows Lor’s going to be jumpy. He also knows he can’t have you at that bar without some backup in place, and—”

  She cut him off by beating his hand away. “Stop it!” The thin veneer of her composure toppled. Her face crumpled and her body sagged, despite how she hugge
d herself so tight, she rocked from the effort. “Don’t do that to me. Don’t make me think everything’s simply going to be all better.” When she glanced at what must’ve been the mute perplexity on his face, she grated, “I’m the last thing on Dan’s mind right now, okay? Whatever this is—whatever the hell Lor and the Aragons are up to—it’s a giant arrow dipped in some crazy-ass poison, and we still have no idea where it’s coming from or whose ass it’s aimed at. You know what that means? Collateral damage, that’s what that means.”

  She stopped and forced herself to breathe again. Like that did any good. From the way she ground her lower lip into hamburger, Tait now realized the woman wasn’t just skittish. She was terrified. His logic, born from years of instinct and field training, took the next step from there.

  “What happened?” He asked it in a tone that conveyed he not only knew there was an answer but expected to get it. “What happened, Luna?”

  She let out a leaden sigh. “Galvaz is dead.”

  He didn’t gasp or groan. His knowing nod might have skated at the edge of callous, but it was also the display of strength she needed right now and hadn’t gotten from Colton. Not that Tait could blame the guy. Losing Galvaz was a loss that couldn’t have come at a shittier time, especially if the Aragons had dealt the blow. He had a feeling he could already solve that little mystery too.

  “I take it he didn’t go peacefully in his sleep?”

  “Bullet through the forehead.” Her voice was a rasp. Her forehead crunched and her eyes squeezed shut.

  “Colton has proof?”

  She dipped her head. “They…they took a picture. Dan got it as a text from Galvaz’s number.”

  “That’s certainly a way of telling the spooks you’re onto them.”

  Luna fell into a taut stillness, which got him even more stressed than all the frightened fidgeting. “He…he knew it was going to happen.” Her stare stayed riveted to the center of his chest. She raked him there with her fingertips, the motions awkward and needy, which clearly deepened her fear. “Weasley…he knew. When he called in two nights ago…remember what I told you? He gave us specific directions about all of it, about taking care of his family. He made Dan promise that his wife and kids would get US citizenship and witness protection. He talked about his little girl. He wanted her to get a college education. He told us she’s really good at math. He was so proud of her.” Tears shone in her eyes and then brimmed and rained down her cheeks. “He was so calm,” she uttered. “He was so…resigned. He knew what was going to happen, and yet he did it anyway. He thanked Dan for the chance to do something right. Said he’d spent so many years doing shitty things but he wasn’t a shitty person. He was just lost. Just…lost.”

  Tait slid his hand around the back of her neck. But instead of compelling her face back up, he tilted his down. He let her see that he valued every drop she cried and understood every word she spoke.

  “And you told him you’d been lost once too.”

  She gazed at him. No. Not just at him but into him, slamming his soul with the shimmering force of her sorrow. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I did.”

  “And today, you’ve done what you had to—but now you’re afraid to feel calm about it.”

  She didn’t answer him in words. He didn’t care. As her tears turned into chokes and then sobs, he folded her into his arms and let her plummet into the emotion she needed right now. If the world was perfect, he’d be giving her this pain in the form of cuffs, clamps, and whips, but they were miles from perfection, and the best he could offer was a few minutes of safety so she could strip down her heart and give it release.

  Incredible, intense woman. Her emotional nakedness was as stunning to him as her bare body and just as precious a gift. He still didn’t know anything about her beyond the few details Zeke had shared about meeting her on the street when they were teens, but in moments like this, Tait didn’t need her baby pictures and a life journal. Now, just like that night when he’d helped her through the subdrop at Bastille, she made him feel like a human skyscraper. A lion king. Her personal hero.

  The guy who’d fallen hard for her.

  After a few minutes that raced by too fast, she snuffled, swiped the mascara off her cheeks, and stepped back. “Damn it. I’m a mess.”

  He couldn’t hold back from cupping the side of her face again. “A beautiful mess.”

  She shot him half a smile. “You seriously need your head ex—”

  He pulled the rest of the word off her lips by dragging her close and kissing her hard. Reckless move? Yeah. Completely unavoidable? He gave that a giant check mark too. Ahhh, God… The sweet nectar of her mouth, the lingering salt of her tears, the lush taste of her lips… He’d never tasted such a wonderful ambrosia in his life. And doubted he ever would again.

  “My head’s working just fine.” He said it when he finally let her go, still pressing his forehead to hers. “Both of them, as a matter of fact.”

  “Shit.” She got it out between a couple of labored breaths. The action made that damn sweater set go tight in all the right places, which didn’t help the protest she tried to stammer. “Weasley…we really can’t—”

  He handled that just like the other nonsense she tried to blurt. He simply meshed his mouth and tongue to hers again. When she finally tore away, he grated, “Come to the hotel tonight.” He traced her eyebrows, her cheeks, and her lips with the pads of his thumbs. “Luna…come be with me.”

  He watched the yes enter her whole face, bringing a new sheen to her eyes and a slight part to her lips before the shadow of fear conquered it again. “I have to get the stick to Dan. We have no idea what this is going to unlock on that laptop.”

  “And after that? Don’t you have to sleep sometime?”

  “Of course.” She guided his hand to the back of her neck again but made him press into her skin. His fingers hit a little ridge that felt like a staple under her skin. “In the bed where they can find me, via this fun little tracking chip.” She sniffed and attempted a smile. “Karma’s quite a bitch, huh?”

  “Fine.” She wanted to play this for the jugular? He could do that too. “Then I’ll wait.”

  Her laugh wasn’t surprising. “You’ll wait,” she repeated. “Right. Sure.”

  He squared his shoulders. Tightened his jaw. “I know exactly where you’re going with that, Ms. Lawrence. Be my guest. I’m right behind you.”

  She folded her arms and jutted her chin. “For the next year? Because you realize, no matter what goes down with Lor and the Aragons, that’s the crazy assignment you’re volunteering for, right?”

  He didn’t alter his position by an inch. “I’m a smart guy, flower. And a patient one.”

  Finally, the words seemed to sink into her. Her generous lips curled a little. She gazed up at him, the darkness in her gaze beyond anything she’d ever hit him with before. He almost felt like she was looking at him for the first time ever.

  “You mean that, don’t you?” Her tone warmed him like someone had distilled the afternoon’s sunshine and urged him to take a shot.

  Tait swallowed hard before brushing his knuckles across her cheek. “Don’t you remember what they say at Hogwarts, honey? The beautiful, crazy witch is always worth the wait.”

  She gave him the gift of another laugh. It filled his senses with melody and light, making him grin like an idiot in return.

  In another two seconds, the moment was gone. She turned away, still teetering in those heels even though she reached more level ground after leaving the palm grove. As Tait watched the sway of her enticing backside, a jolt of something strange hit his chest. He rubbed his sternum, unable to recognize the shit at first. It had been such a long time since he’d felt it…but the connection finally struck. It was pure, unfiltered joy.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ethan was pretty sure he was going to hell.

  There had to be some cosmic law against using a Sunday night for dressing up in Dominance leathers and a T-shirt laced with sil
ver sparkle threads, pretending to top a starlet who was as submissive as Xena the Warrior, in front of ten floodlights, a catty photography crew—and the woman on whom he’d much rather be wielding the crop. Yeah, the same woman who’d been watching him for the last two days like a hen eyeing a fox outside her coop, while a filthy fox named Ephraim Lor kept slinking in through her back door.

  Yep. Hell. He had no doubt it was already stamped on his mortal train ticket. Didn’t have a problem letting the track take him there either, as long as he got to kill Lor first. Slowly. Painfully. Since tonight’s photo session was taking place in Ricochet, one of LA’s largest and best-equipped BDSM dungeons, he was sure he could find a stretching rack or a high-intensity electro-stim kit that would help him carry out the mission in style.

  As Fulsom and his crew worked with the Ricochet maintenance team to pull a St. Andrews cross into an area that better depicted the “undercover kink club” theme for the shoot, Bella clacked away on her latex boots to swap her red leather skirt for a long black lace thing held up by Fulsom’s fashion consultant. Sure, because that was more conducive to depicting a “naughty spy sting” in D/s land, right?

  He quashed the thought as soon as it hit. He should be grateful for the costume change. It would force Lor to ease the suction cups on his octopus hold around Ava. She’d be called away to help toss Bella’s hair, straighten an eyelash, adjust the cinch on the corset from which the woman’s plastic cleavage was already tumbling… He didn’t care what the emergency was, as long as he could take a break for even five minutes from the torture of watching the man conduct a hands-on topographical survey of her body, apparently with her full permission.

  Goddamnit. The woman thought she’d been making crappy choices in men before? He was of half a mind to march across the room and tell her about the “prize catch” maneuvering to get between her thighs now. An imposter who’d been raised by a pair of zealots, politically radicalized at the age his hormones raged highest and now deceived the world into thinking he was Hollywood royalty while partnering with international criminals.