by Anna Durand
Her dimpled cheeks told me she was teasing.
I loved the way she teased me.
But I could not let Alex off that easy. Not when he kept smiling at Serena.
So I hit Alex with—what had Serena called it?—my deadly calm stare. "Are you aware Catriona has invented several colorful, insulting nicknames for you?"
"Has she?" He affected an air of disinterest, but I wasn't convinced.
"Aye. She calls you the British Bastard, the Limey Louse, the Soulless Sassenach, and several other things I won't repeat in front of a lady."
"I see." Alex braced his elbow on his chair's arm and scratched his cheek with one finger. "How enterprising of her."
Two women bustled into the room, one pushing a cart. They went to work setting our meal on the table and serving each of us before they bustled out again.
Serena took a bite of food before she asked Alex, "What does the name of your house mean? Moirai, is it? That sounds Greek or Latin or something."
"You're correct. It's Greek." He pushed the food around on his plate but didn't eat it. "The Moirai were goddesses who set each mortal's fate at birth. Essentially, we're all fucked from the moment we crawl out of the womb."
The bitterness in his voice surprised me, but I decided his attitude toward fate was irrelevant to the mission.
Alex regained his annoyingly cheerful attitude within minutes, and throughout dinner, Alex and Serena blethered about things of little interest to me, like archaeology and home decor. Serena laughed at his jokes and smiled at him often. I tried to remember she was being friendly, nothing more, but the way Alex looked at her made my shoulders bunch up and my hands curl into loose fists.
If he didn't stop smiling at her, I might throw my plate at his head.
To stave off an assault charge, I sneaked my hand onto Serena's thigh and massaged her flesh.
Her breathing grew uneven.
I watched Alex, my lips curving into a self-satisfied smile, and kept massaging her thigh.
She slapped her hand over mine, but instead of peeling it away from her leg, she guided my hand down to the hem of her dress and slipped it underneath the fabric. When she pulled her hand away, I eased the dress up until my fingertips brushed her panties.
They were damp.
I swallowed a Gaelic curse. She was ready for me, right here, right now, in front of Alex Thorne. A fleeting thought tormented me, that maybe she was aroused for him and not me, but then I realized how daft that idea was. Though he'd been flirting with her all through dinner, she hadn't reciprocated. Her laughter and smiles had been friendly, not seductive.
Besides, I was the one currently sliding my fingers inside her wet panties.
Serena jerked, though only a little. Her pupils had enlarged, and her cheeks sported the faintest speckles of pink.
And Christ, she was getting wetter by the second.
I sneaked a finger between her folds, stroking her up and down, slowly and deliberately. I wanted my head between her legs, but for now, this would have to do.
Our host made a bad joke, and Serena laughed with a hint of panic in her voice.
Did she mind me touching her this way in this setting? With Alex talking to her? She had put my hand under her dress, so I decided she liked what I was doing.
She took a sip of her wine and spluttered when I pinched her clit.
"Are you all right?" I asked calmly, despite the fact my cock was getting harder by the second. "Maybe you drank your wine too quickly."
"No, I'm fine." She spread her thighs, giving me full access to her body. "Alex, tell me more about those cuneiform tablets. It sounds fascinating."
He launched into a mini lecture about the tablets.
I moved my whole hand between her thighs, rubbing the heel against her hard nub, curling and uncurling my fingers to tease her folds. While she pretended to be engrossed by Alex's lecture, I thrust my middle finger inside her.
"How fascinating," she said to Alex, though I was fair certain she had no fucking idea what he'd just said.
Thrusting my finger in and out, rubbing her with the heel of my hand, I watched her expression. When I added a second finger, her eyes flared wider for a second. Her body tensed.
She was about to come.
In front of Alex.
"Suddenly, I'm in the mood for Talisker," I told him. "Would you mind getting that bottle?"
"Happy to."
Alex got up and left the room, though the door stayed open.
I laid a palm on Serena's cheek and turned her face toward me, taking her mouth in a hard, hot kiss while I worked her body with my fingers and palm. My mouth muffled her cry when she came. Her entire body went rigid and jerked with every spasm, but I kept rubbing until her climax faded.
When we pried our lips apart, her mouth curved into a dreamy smile. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen.
My cock was stiff as steel.
Alex sauntered back into the room carrying a bottle of Talisker single malt Scotch whisky and three glasses. He sat down and poured two fingers of whisky into each glass, then handed one to me and another to Serena.
She swigged hers in one gulp—and promptly started coughing.
I patted her back. "Easy there, gràidh. Whisky is for sipping, not pouring down your throat."
Alex observed her like he couldn't quite figure out why she'd done that.
"My fault," I whispered into her ear. "I shouldn't have done that to you, but I couldn't resist. You are so fucking beautiful when you come."
Alex observed us with his brows furrowed. "Did I miss something?"
"Nothing that's any of your business," I said.
Serena picked up her water glass and took a dainty sip. "I could really go for something sweet."
Alex's gaze darted between me and Serena, but then settled on her.
Would he figure out what we'd been doing? He was clever...
His lips crept into a knowing smile.
I might've been smirking.
Serena affected a look of innocence that was not at all convincing. "So, is there dessert?"
"Yes," Alex said, "there is. Shall we have it in the living room?"
While we trailed Alex down the hall, with a few meters between us and him, Serena tucked her arm under mine and pressed close to my side. She spoke in a voice too soft for Alex to hear, unless he had unnaturally sensitive hearing like Superman, which quite frankly wouldn't have shocked me, knowing how strange and secretive the man was.
"You looked kind of testy for a while there," Serena said. "Jealous?"
"No," I hissed, sounding like the jealous man she was accusing me of being. Calming my voice, I added, "I didn't like the way he was looking at you."
She clamped her teeth down on her lips to stifle a laugh, resulting in a soft snorting noise. "That's the definition of jealousy, Logan."
"No, it's called guarding what's mine."
"Uh-huh, sure." She looked up at me with her lips tight from the smile she was struggling not to show. It twinkled in her eyes anyway. "Whatever makes you feel better."
"You like Alex."
"Sure, he's fun to talk to. But don't worry, I'm interested in only one man." She craned her neck to peck a kiss on my cheek. "That's you, in case there was any doubt."
I sighed with mock disappointment. "Guess I won't have to murder him, dismember his body, and bury the pieces across the State of Montana after all."
"Nope." She rested her cheek on my arm. "You're not fooling me. I know you like Alex."
"He's an erse and a bod ceann."
"Come off it, Logan. You may not trust him a hundred percent, but he is your friend."
I made a rude noise.
She tipped her head back to aim a tender smile at me. "You won't admit Evan is your best friend. You won't admit you like Alex. I remember a time when you thought I was a raging bitch. At least now you admit you like me, but you really should cut Alex s
ome slack. He's still in love with Catriona."
I didn't have the chance to ask how she arrived at that conclusion, because we had reached the living room. Serena was right about Alex, I was sure of it, but I wanted to know how she'd figured that out. I had years of experience in ferreting out secrets.
The three of us enjoyed a pleasant conversation over dessert. Afterward, Alex announced he was "retiring for the evening," which I took to mean he was off to bed. As he headed for the stairs, he told us, "The servants are asleep, so you have the house to yourselves. Explore, if you like."
"You call them servants?" Serena asked. "Isn't that kind of outdated?"
He paused at the bottom of the stairs. "Would you prefer I call them employees? Either way, they do my bidding."
She gave him that skeptical look I knew so well, having been on the receiving end of it many times. It translated roughly as you're blowing smoke up my erse, but I'm not having any of it. "Thank you for a lovely evening, Alex."
"You're welcome." He waved for us to follow him. "Come, I'll show you the room I think will work best for the two of you. I'm assuming you want to sleep together."
"That's very considerate," Serena said.
He showed us to the room farthest from where he slept. It was enormous. The massive bed seemed small in the cavernous space, and I swore my breathing echoed off the high ceiling. While Serena went into the attached bathroom to get ready for bed, I poked my head in to tell her I was going downstairs to get a glass of water.
"You're going to snoop," she said, glancing at me over her shoulder.
I should've known I couldn't fool her. "No, leannan, it's called reconnaissance. But only if you're an ex-spy. For average people, it's called being nosy."
"Have fun being nosy, then."
"Cheeky lass." I slapped her erse. "Stay here. I won't be long."
Before she could complain about my command that she stay put, I hurried out the door. What I expected to find, I had no idea. Alex was hiding something, probably several things, but I didn't know if those secrets affected the mission I'd agreed to undertake for him, or if they were unrelated and therefore none of my business.
I was examining a locked door across from the dining room, mulling whether to break in, when I heard the stairs creak.
A soft "shit" followed.
Chuckling, I walked back to the stairs.
Serena had just reached the bottom, hunched over in some sort of attempt to be stealthy. When she saw me, she grimaced. "Busted, huh?"
"Where are you going?"
She hunched her shoulders.
I took in her appearance—a knee-length satin robe and nothing else. "You're barefoot. Are you at least wearing something under that robe?"
"Nope, I'm naked as a jaybird."
Her statement both irritated and aroused me. She was the only woman on earth who could do both to me at the same time.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Snooping. Like you."
"You're bloody awful at it. I heard you coming down the stairs." I tried to frown at her but couldn't quite pull it off. "Shouting 'shit' isn't very stealthy."
"I did not shout. I hissed."
"Whatever you say."
She glanced around, looking for all the world like a cartoon character making sure the villains weren't lurking nearby. Then she took my hand. "Come on, let's go to Alex's study."
"Why?"
"To snoop."
I let her lead me off toward the study, enchanted by her excitement over the prospect of rifling through Alex's desk. Had I corrupted the lass? If I had, I couldn't regret it. She was endearing as a somewhat bumbling would-be spy.
Light spilled out of the study into the hall.
Serena stopped us at the edge of the light. She tiptoed sideways, dragging me by the hand, until we could see into the room without moving into the glow the lamp inside cast out here. Alex was reclining in his chair, facing the doorway, his eyes closed. A half-empty bottle of Talisker sat on the desktop beside an empty glass.
Serena gave me a puzzled look. She mouthed, "Asleep?"
I shook my head.
"Not asleep," Alex announced, opening his eyes. "You might as well come in. Sorry to interrupt your plans to... What were you wanting in my study? A shag on the desk?"
Now that he mentioned it, aye, that would've been perfect.
Serena dragged me into the study. "We were planning to snoop. You know, go through your desk drawers and stuff. Since you're not in your bedroom, maybe we'll start there instead."
"Logan, you are one lucky bastard. Serena is delightfully naughty."
Aye, she was. But I didn't like hearing him say it.
"Why aren't you in bed?" I asked. "You said you were retiring."
"I needed to think, and I do that better here."
"You mean you wanted to get drunk, and your liquor is in here."
He lifted one shoulder.
Serena moved closer to the desk. "Why did you want to get drunk?"
Alex picked up the empty glass and turned it in his hand. "I'm a British Bastard, remember? We Limey Louses tend to do things like that."
Serena and I exchanged glances.
Looking into her eyes, I knew she'd come to the same conclusion I had. Despite his flippant response when I'd told him about Cat's nicknames for him, the truth had knocked him back on his erse. He might have said Cat despised him, but he hadn't really believed it until tonight.
"Never mind," Alex said breezily, getting up from his chair and wobbling the slightest bit. "The study is yours, to do with as you please."
He hurried out of the room. His footsteps clomped on the stairs, fast and loud enough to echo down the hall.
At least he wasn't drunk enough to fall down the stairs.
"That was odd," I said. "Alex Thorne upset? I've never seen it before."
"He's still pining for Catriona." Serena turned toward me and undid the belt on her robe, letting it fall open to reveal all of her creamy skin. "But let's not talk about that anymore."
"Aye, let's not." I slung an arm around her waist and pulled her snug against me. "Let's defile Alex's desk."
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Serena
We didn't see Alex at breakfast. We didn't see him when we left for the airport. On our way out the door, we asked Reginald where Alex was and if he was all right. The butler almost sneered when he told us, "Dr. Thorne is indisposed." I wondered if Reginald's opinion of his employer wasn't a good one, despite the fact Alex clearly thought of him as a friend. Logan and I agreed "indisposed" meant Alex had a hangover. Jeez, he must've gotten drunker after he went upstairs last night. Hearing the nasty nicknames Catriona had given him must've upset the man a lot more than he wanted us to know.
Once we'd boarded Evan's jet, which our CEO had given us permission to use for as long as we needed to go wherever we wanted, Logan and I settled in on the sofa. He slipped his arm around my shoulders, with his fingers trailing down my arm.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"Cairo."
"Egypt?"
"Yes, gràidh. Alex gave me all the information about the tracking device he planted on Falk Mullane. The last ping came from Egypt."
"Why would Falk take Babylonian tablets to Cairo?"
Logan brushed his fingertips up and down my arm. "To sell them, no doubt. Mullane must have underworld connections, and he's found a buyer for the tablets. The lad has a record, for petty crimes like shoplifting and vandalism. He's also spoiled. To excess. His parents aren't billionaires, but they are upper middle class—very upper. They've bought Falk everything he wanted, from a Mustang convertible to a small house near the university."
"Why would a man who's sitting pretty risk everything by committing crimes?"
"Boredom." He traced circles on my arm while he gazed straight ahead at nothing in particular. "I've seen it many times. A prince will become a terrorist because he h
as nothing better to do, and what the hell, he might get into heaven sooner and have a harem of women at his disposal for eternity. Falk Mullane isn't likely to get a harem, but he will have the thrill of doing something dangerous and clandestine."
"Do you wish for the same excitement? Even a little bit?"
"No." He turned his face to me, his features tight. "Do you believe me?"
"Yes. If you say it, I believe it."
The tension eased out of him, and he sank back against the sofa. "I've sent Evan all the information about the tracking device. He's offered to check it out for us. The device isn't one of a kind, it's an off-the-shelf model, so he should be able to get an identical one and deconstruct it."
"Will that help us?"
"It might. Or it might not."
"Pretty handy to have a billionaire tech genius as your cousin, and your best friend."
Logan threw his head back and groaned. "Mhac na galla. Will ye ever stop pestering me to admit Evan and Alex are my friends?"
"Afraid not." I tickled his lips. "And in case you've forgotten, I know what your Gaelic curse words mean."
He hissed something under his breath that I couldn't quite make out.
"What was that?" I asked.
"Russian." He kissed the tip of my nose. "Since you know Gaelic, I'd better start cursing in a different language."
"Stick to Gaelic. It suits you."
"In that case, let's test your knowledge." He pulled me close, our noses touching and our gazes locked. "An toir thu dhomh pòg."
The smoldering heat in his voice set off a matching fire between my legs.
"Sorry, I don't know that one," I said. "But it must be about sex. You've got that lusty look in your eye."
"An toir thu dhomh pòg means give us a kiss."
"Us?" I glanced around like I was searching for other men. "Do you want to have a foursome with the pilots?"
"No. I'm wanting you to kiss me."
"Why didn't you say that? The word us implies—"
He covered my mouth with his.
When he pulled away, I was breathless from the intensity of his kiss. This man had skills, in kissing, in bed, in detecting fake accents, everything. I was sure Logan could do anything he wanted and do it very, very well.