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Any Way You Want It

Page 14

by Maureen Smith


  That morning he and Roderick had met with a defense contractor, who’d given Remy the classified diagram in exchange for information about the new technology under development by Roderick’s team of engineers at Brand International Corp. The project, spearheaded by Remy, featured a high-tech military uniform outfitted with a computer system to provide situational awareness displays, which would give soldiers a tactical advantage in combat. The technology was expected to be fully developed well ahead of the Department of Defense’s own version of the futuristic uniform.

  By the end of the meeting, Remy and Roderick had a new multimillion-dollar contract, which they celebrated with cigars and a back-slapping hug before Roderick left to accompany Lena to her first prenatal appointment.

  Remy was watching holographic soldiers march through the diagrammed compound when a knock sounded at his door.

  “You wanted to see me?”

  Remy glanced over his shoulder, meeting the glacier-blue eyes of a tall, muscular man leaning negligently against the doorjamb.

  “Yeah.” Remy pressed a button on the remote control, and the hologram vanished.

  Duke grinned, shaking his head. “That is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s like something out of Star Wars.”

  Remy chuckled. “Pull up a seat, Gannon.”

  Duke sauntered to the visitor chair and flopped down, thick black hair falling over his eyes. When he reached up to push the unruly mass off his forehead, his short sleeve rose over his biceps to reveal the same trident tattoo worn by Remy.

  Duke Gannon was the newest addition to Brand Security Solutions. After suffering a near-fatal injury during a reconnaissance operation gone awry, he’d been relieved of duty and sent home to Chicago to undergo months of therapy and rehab. He’d been doing well until he received his discharge papers, spelling out in black and white that his days as a Navy SEAL were over. He’d sunk into a deep depression until a friend of a friend referred him to Remy’s company.

  As Remy walked to his desk and sat down, Duke drawled lazily, “What’s up, Chief?”

  “I have an assignment for you.” Remy slid a folder across the desk to Duke, who picked it up and opened it. “I need you to go undercover as Jonah Spanier, a wealthy financier from California. You just relocated to Chicago, so you gotta lose the accent.”

  Duke frowned. “What accent?”

  Remy snorted out a laugh. He was a native Chicagoan, and even he thought Duke had the thickest damn accent he’d ever heard. He dropped consonants and flattened vowels so hard that words like “hockey” and “socks” became “hackey” and “sacks.”

  Remy shook his head at him. “Just lose it, all right?”

  “If you insist.” Duke perused the contents of the folder. “So let me get this straight. You want me to investigate an escort agency?”

  Remy nodded, guilt gnawing his insides.

  Duke frowned. “With all due respect, I didn’t realize this is the kind of undercover work we’re doing here.”

  “It’s not,” Remy grimly admitted. “This is more of a...personal favor.”

  Duke studied him, blue eyes narrowed with speculation.

  Remy offered no more.

  “There’s a lot of information here,” Duke noted, holding up the folder. “Can’t I just call up the agency and ask for a girl?”

  Remy grimaced. “It’s not that simple. The owner runs background checks on all prospective clients.”

  Duke raised a brow. “Suspicious much?”

  “Smart. Very smart. That’s why she’s the best in the business, and her escorts are first-rate.”

  “Yeah?” Duke suddenly looked interested. “How first-rate?”

  Remy sketched an hourglass with his hands, kissed his fingertips. “Bellissima.”

  Duke grinned. “This is sounding better and better. How many girls are there?”

  “Nine.” Zandra hadn’t found a replacement for Lena yet.

  Duke’s eyes widened. “You want me to go out with nine different women?”

  Remy cocked an amused brow. “Is that a problem?”

  “Not at all,” Duke drawled, grinning wickedly. “I’m sure I can handle it.”

  Remy chuckled. He knew that Duke, like any Navy SEAL, had enjoyed his fair share of attention from groupies—aka frog hogs—who hung around military bases and bars hoping to pick up a SEAL. Remy wasn’t particularly proud of the fact that he’d woken up many mornings neck-deep in tits and asses after a wild threesome or, on occasion, foursome.

  “How am I gonna explain wanting to go out with all of the escorts?” Duke asked.

  “When you set up the date,” Remy explained, “you’re going to be asked some interview questions. Just explain that you’re new in town, looking to meet new people and make new friends. And hint that you’re tired of being a bachelor, and you’re thinking about settling down.”

  Duke raised a brow. “You’re telling me to make them think that I’m auditioning for a wife?”

  “Basically.” Remy smiled wryly. “Believe me, they’ve heard everything under the sun. And when you’ve got moronic reality shows on television, it’s not a stretch for anyone to believe that a rich, good-looking guy would want to test-drive a bunch of women to find his soul mate.”

  Duke chuckled, rubbing his stubble-roughened jaw. “But what if the girls talk and compare notes?”

  Remy grinned. “Then I guess you’d better give them something good to talk about. But not too good,” he added warningly. “You’re not supposed to get laid, Gannon. You’re going undercover to see if any of the escorts will try to have sex with you.”

  Duke made a face, shaking his head. “It’s really gonna fuck up my ego if none of them do.”

  “I’m hoping they won’t,” Remy said grimly.

  His date with Noelani had produced mixed results. It was clear that she’d been attracted to him. What wasn’t clear was whether she’d have allowed things to go further if he didn’t have feelings for Zandra.

  Duke frowned at him. “Why me? Why did I get stuck with this job?”

  Remy grinned. “Have you seen some of the other men who work for me? Rough-looking motherfuckers who’d probably scare the bejesus out of those poor girls. Sorry, but you’re the only pretty face I’ve got around here.”

  Duke scowled. “Gee, thanks.”

  “Hey, don’t blame me. Blame genetics.”

  Duke glowered another moment, then heaved a resigned breath and muttered, “Fuck it. You wanna pay me to go out on dates with a bunch of hot chicks? Suit yourself.”

  “Your gratitude is overwhelming,” Remy said dryly.

  Duke gave him the finger, and Remy laughed. Working with these men was almost like being part of a platoon again.

  As Duke rose to leave, Remy told him, “Do a good job on this one, and I’ll put you on the Norwegian op.”

  Duke’s eyes sparked with interest. “Norwegian?”

  Remy nodded. “Hot extract. Off the grid. We’ll take a submarine to get there.”

  Duke’s face lit up, as Remy had expected. Uncle Sam may have declared him unfit for duty, but Duke was a warrior. Once a warrior, always a warrior.

  “Hooyah!”

  Remy grinned. “Hell, yeah.”

  After Duke left, Remy decided to tackle some of the paperwork on his desk.

  Moments later, Mona announced cheerfully from the open doorway, “You have a visitor.”

  He glanced up.

  At the sight of Zandra standing behind his assistant, he felt a surge of pleasure, followed by a jolt of alarm.

  Duke had just left his office. Had Zandra passed him in the hallway?

  “Hi.” She smiled hesitantly. “Is this a bad time?”

  “For you? Never.” Remy stood, came around the desk and crossed the room to greet her. As Mona stepped aside, he wrapped his arms around Zandra and hauled her close, savoring the honeysuckle scent of her hair and the luscious warmth of her body. She clung to him, pressing her face into his chest, and he wondered
if she was as happy to see him as he was to see her.

  Drawing back reluctantly, he kissed her forehead and smiled into her eyes. “Hey, you.”

  “Hey, yourself.”

  Her hair was scooped back into a high ponytail. She wore a pink T-shirt, a fitted denim skirt and flat sandals. She looked fresh and wholesome. She looked like the Zandra of his youth.

  His chest swelled as they stood there staring and smiling at each other.

  “I’ll just leave you two alone,” Mona said, her voice laced with knowing amusement. She’d always liked Zandra, so she never gave her a hard time about showing up unannounced—which Zandra didn’t do often enough, as far as Remy was concerned.

  As Mona closed the door behind her, Zandra asked, “Are you sure I’m not disturbing you?”

  She really had no idea, did she? “Positive.”

  She smiled. “Good.”

  He watched as she brushed past him and strolled across the room, ponytail swinging from side to side. She walked around his desk, sat down in the chair and propped her feet up on the corner, her skirt riding up her thighs just enough to make him salivate. As she crossed her silky legs at the ankles, Remy cocked his head to one side, angling for a better view.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you trying to look up my skirt?”

  He gave her a look of sham innocence. “Of course not.”

  “Better not be.”

  He grinned. He loved seeing her like this, all sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks. He knew, even without asking, that she’d just come from the cultural center where she volunteered several hours a week, working with disadvantaged youth through a community arts program.

  Remy sauntered over, rounded the desk and perched a hip on the corner. “How’d everything go today?”

  “Wonderful.” She beamed. “Those kids are amazing, Remy. So gifted. So much raw potential.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Oh, yeah. You should see some of their work. One boy drew a picture of the Buckingham Fountain that was so good, it ought to be a postcard.”

  Remy smiled. “Impressive.”

  “Very impressive.” Her soft smile held a trace of sorrow. “My mother would have loved working with these kids.”

  “I bet,” Remy murmured.

  Autumn Kennedy had been an elementary school art teacher and a tremendously talented artist. Her death had devastated Zandra. She hadn’t been the same since, and sometimes Remy worried that she never would be.

  As he watched, she leaned her head back against the chair and sighed.

  “What’s up, baby girl?”

  She hesitated. “I’m thinking about changing my last name.”

  Remy was surprised. “Really?”

  She nodded.

  “Why?”

  A shadow crossed her face before she shrugged. “No particular reason.”

  Remy didn’t believe her.

  After another moment, she said almost defensively, “It’d be one thing if I were close to my father. But I’m not, so there’s no reason for me to keep his name. Honestly, I don’t know why I never changed it before.”

  Remy swallowed at the sudden tightness in his throat. “Well,” he said carefully, “why don’t you just wait until you...you know, get married.”

  Zandra snorted. “That won’t be happening anytime soon.”

  Remy winced, her words plunging a dagger through his heart.

  Oblivious to his reaction, she reached across his desk and picked up the small rubber frog she’d sent to him when he became a SEAL. She’d enclosed a card with the message, A frog for the new frogman. May you keep each other safe.

  The simple gift had meant more to him than anything he’d ever received before. His teammates had joked that it was his good luck charm, because he’d carried it in the left breast pocket of his uniform, close to his heart.

  He watched as Zandra absently toyed with the rubber frog, lost in thought.

  “What’s on your mind?” he gently probed.

  Her eyes lifted to his. “I’ve been thinking about going somewhere.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t really decided.” She sighed, setting down the frog. “I know we just returned from St. Lucia, and it was wonderful. But I guess I wouldn’t mind taking another trip, just to get a change of scenery.”

  “Funny you should say that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I have to travel to London next week. I’ve been invited to speak and serve as a panelist at an international conference for private security service providers.”

  “Really? That’s wonderful, Remy.”

  He made a face. “You know I’m not big on public speaking, but I figure my attendance will be good for business.” He paused. “I was going to ask you to go with me.”

  “To London?”

  “No. The moon.” He chuckled. “Of course London. Go with me.”

  Her expression turned wary. “I don’t know.”

  “Come on. You haven’t been back to London in years, and I know how much you loved living there when you were at Oxford.”

  A soft, reminiscent smile touched her mouth. “I did. And I always enjoy visiting whenever I can.”

  “So come with me,” Remy cajoled. “We’ll have fun, and you can show me some of your old hangouts.”

  He could tell the idea appealed to her. But she wavered, tugging her lush lower lip between her teeth.

  “Let me think about it and get back to you.”

  Remy swallowed his disappointment. “Fair enough. In the meantime—”

  She let out a squeak of surprise as he suddenly scooped her out of the chair and into his arms, then sat down and pulled her onto his lap. The lush curve of her ass sent an instant rush of heat to his groin.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded teasingly.

  He nipped her ear. “Reclaiming my chair, woman.”

  She giggled, reaching across the desk and picking up the remote control to the hologram schematics. “What’s this?” she asked curiously.

  “Nothing for you to worry about,” Remy murmured, smoothly plucking the device out of her hand.

  “Ooh. Sounds top secret.”

  “It is. If you saw it, I’d have to kill you.”

  She looked over her shoulder at his face. “That’s not funny.”

  “Sorry. It was a joke...sort of.” Nuzzling the nape of her neck, he savored the scent of her skin, an elusive fragrance he’d never smelled on any other woman. He wished he could bottle it.

  “So,” she began casually, “I spoke to Noelani this morning.”

  He instinctively tensed. “Yeah?”

  “Umm-hmm.”

  “What’d she say?” Remy asked, matching her casual tone.

  Zandra hesitated. “She said she had a wonderful time with you.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Another pregnant pause. “She thought you were very handsome and charming, and she said she wouldn’t mind going out with you again if you’re ever interested.”

  Remy smiled. “Good to know,” he murmured, loosening Zandra’s ponytail and sifting his fingers through her soft, thick hair.

  She purred in her throat, arching against him like a contented feline. Lust heated his blood.

  “So are you?” she whispered.

  Remy buried his face in her fragrant hair, closing his eyes. “Am I what?”

  “Are you interested in seeing her again?”

  “Who?”

  “Remy,” Zandra warned.

  He chuckled softly. “I had a great time with Noelani. She’s a beautiful woman, like you promised.”

  “So is that a yes?”

  Some perverse impulse made him respond, “I wouldn’t mind going out with her again.”

  “I see.” There was an edge to Zandra’s voice. “Are you going to set up another date with her then?”

  He swept her hair over one shoulder. “Maybe.”

  “That’s not an answer.�
��

  He pressed an openmouthed kiss to her nape, making her shiver. “Why are you so concerned?” he murmured, sliding her shirt aside as he nibbled his way across her bare shoulder. “Aren’t you dating what’s-his-name?”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  “Answer my question.”

  She let out a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m not dating Colin. I told him we should just be friends.”

  If she’d been facing Remy, she would have seen the slow, satisfied smile that curved his mouth.

  “Just friends, huh?”

  “Yes. Are you satisfied?”

  “Very. Speaking of satisfaction...”

  Zandra gave him a sultry look over her shoulder, her hips provocatively undulating against his crotch. His dick hardened even more, straining against the seam of his pants.

  “Oh, my...” Zandra purred wickedly.

  He leaned forward and kissed her, running his tongue over the plump bottom lip that had been tormenting him. She let out a soft moan, sending another jolt of lust to his groin.

  He opened her mouth with his tongue and slid inside. She tasted so damn good. Sweeter than the sweetest honey.

  “Should we be doing this right now?” she murmured.

  “Doesn’t matter. We’re going to.”

  She didn’t protest as he hiked her denim skirt up around her waist and reached between her thighs. She gasped at the brush of his fingertips as he pushed aside the damp strip of her thong. He eased his middle finger inside her creamy wetness, and almost lost his mind.

  She was soaked. So soaked he had to have her. Not later. Now.

  He fumbled down his zipper, gripped his throbbing cock and slid inside her, groaning as her soft flesh expanded around him.

  She moaned, her head falling back as she slowly spread her thighs, taking him deeper.

  He shuddered. The hot clasp of her pussy, coupled with the lush roundness of her ass, was almost too much for him.

  Bracing her hands on the arms of the chair, Zandra began riding his dick with long, deep strokes that made his toes curl inside his boots. Reaching beneath her shirt, he slid his hands up her stomach and cupped her luscious breasts. She shivered as he rubbed her hard nipples through her satin bra.

  “Remy... Oh...”

  There was a sudden knock on the door.

 

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