The butler stopped in front of a door and addressed Rachel. “Ms Ford-Talbot, as per your request we have joined two suites together to meet your requirements. I apologise again, on behalf of the hotel, that the Royal Suite wasn’t available for you at this time.”
“Not at all.” Rachel strode through the group. “It was a last minute decision on my part. I’m sure the accommodation you’ve arranged will be more than adequate.”
The butler nodded and opened the door. Megan followed everyone into the suite as the man waxed lyrical about the amenities. She felt her jaw hang open. The guy called the décor Elizabethan. Megan wasn’t sure what that meant, but to her it looked like they were staying in a castle. From the French style armoire, to the velour-covered chaise, the room was a study in elegance—which made her standing there in her mini dress, sans underwear, beyond tacky. She felt like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman when she’d turned up at the Beverly Hills hotel in her hooker outfit. It wasn’t a good feeling.
“I’m afraid these rooms do not have a private dining area large enough to accommodate your party. If you would like, I could reserve one of our private dining rooms for you and your group this evening.” To give the butler credit, he didn’t bat an eye at the fact Rachel’s group would have fit in better at a backpackers’ hostel.
“A private dining room would be wonderful. We don’t have a preference in regards to the restaurant.” Rachel looked at Callum. “Half an hour?”
“Make it an hour. I have some calls to make first.” Callum made no attempt to appear friendly to the help.
“Excellent.” The butler actually bowed. A tiny little one, but still. Megan wanted to wrap him up and take him back to Scotland to show her sister. It would be nice to have a souvenir of her time as a mercenary. One that didn’t make her feel bad.
“If there is anything more I can help you with, please do not hesitate to call,” the butler said.
Rachel inclined her head and the man left. Leaving the team standing in a set of rooms that were designed for aristocracy.
“Okay,” Rachel said. “There are four bedrooms. I’m taking one of them. I don’t share.”
“What a shock,” Megan muttered.
“The rest of you can fight over the other rooms.” Rachel turned on her heel, wheeling her suitcase behind her.
“I want a river view room!” Elle shouted and raced off. She threw open a door. “This one is perfect. There are two beds. Who’s with me?”
“I am.” Julia sounded determined as she kept her head down and hurried after Elle.
The door closed on the sound of Elle whooping loudly about the view.
That left two rooms, three men and Megan. She looked at the three men in front of her.
“One of you needs to take the sofa.” The sofa was a formal, upholstered design with delicate carved wooden legs. “It looks comfy.”
She didn’t wait for an answer. Instead she headed for the bedroom near Rachel, hoping that it too had a river view. She was lucky. The view was perfect. Closing the door behind her, she made a beeline for the windows. Lights flickered on the gently lolling waters of the Thames. The London Eye across the river was lit up, a strange big wheel of fairy lights in the city skyline. Boats chugged up and down the river, people strolled along the walkways lining the Thames. To her right she could just make out Parliament building, but Big Ben was too far back to see. She wondered if Rachel’s room had a view of the world’s most famous clock.
The door opened making her jump.
“Hey, roomie.” Dimitri strode inside.
“I’m not in the mood to argue with you. There’s only one bed, I got here first, you need to find somewhere else to sleep.” She was in no mood to deal with Dimitri. She felt as though she was bruised on the inside.
Dimitri completely ignored her. There was snick sound as the lock turned.
Megan had to fight a sudden urge to run. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Dimitri leaned back against the door. He folded his arms over his grey T-shirt and lazily crossed his ankles. Only the calculation in his eyes and the fact he was barring her exit betrayed that he wasn’t as relaxed as he seemed.
“I’m tired.” It was an understatement. She was emotionally exhausted. A limp rag version of her usual self. “Can we do this, whatever it is, tomorrow?” Or never, which would suit much better.
The infuriating man didn’t answer. Instead he just stood there, staring at her. Thinking so loudly she could practically hear him. Slowly, purposefully, he pushed away from the door and stalked towards her.
Prey. She felt like prey.
Before she could stop herself, Megan stepped back and felt the chill of the window press against her back. Dimitri came to a halt in front of her. He placed his hands palms down on the window above her head. His face was close enough for their breaths to merge.
“You and I are gonna have that talk now.” It was a rumbled order.
“Now isn’t a good time for me.” It was the understatement of the year.
Her defences had been broken apart by the realisation that her actions caused more problems than they’d solved. The soft underbelly of her soul was exposed. The wounds from words hurled at her earlier in the evening were raw. There was no space inside her for more of the same.
“I can’t.” It was a whispered confession. She closed her eyes at the truth of it, as accusations from earlier that evening flooded her mind.
“You’re irresponsible. Reckless. You’re dangerous. And you don’t give a shit about your team.”
“You treat this like a game. It isn’t a game. People’s lives are on the line. Nobody wants someone on the team who they can’t trust to have their backs in a situation.”
“What do you want?” she whispered. “To make me bleed?” She held up her hands, wrists out. “Trust me, I’m already bleeding.” You couldn’t see the blood that poured from her wounds, but she hoped Dimitri could feel it. Could recognise it.
His jaw clenched, tight. His eyes blazed. “You nearly cost me my sister.”
Another slash. Another wound. She wasn’t sure how she managed to stay on her feet.
“I know.”
There was nothing else to say. No apology great enough. She’d chanced a woman’s life because she’d thought she knew better than everyone around her. And although she’d convinced herself that she acted to protect Claire, she’d also done it to pander to her own ego. She was beginning to see that the damage she caused by acting then thinking, was long lasting. There were always consequences—for her and for the people she dragged into her plans.
“You took risks with Katrina’s life to protect Claire.” Another accusation.
That one bristled. She met him eye to eye. “You did the same.”
He shook his head. “No. We always intended to protect Claire. The only thing that changed was the timeline.”
That reasoning would never be good enough for Megan. “She’s my twin.”
He moved closer, the length of his body pressing against hers. There was no personal space from this man—he wouldn’t allow it. “It doesn’t excuse what you did. You put yourself in danger. You took risks you’re not equipped to deal with. You took your phone into a dangerous situation and gave a sociopath the ability to track you. You relied on luck and charm to get you out of there alive. You were unprofessional. Nothing you did was smart or sane.”
He was breathing hard when he finished. Megan couldn’t say anything. He was right. They were all right. She’d gone in armed with bravado. The fact she’d gotten out again was pure luck.
“You put yourself in danger.” His words were barely a growl. “You went in there without backup.”
Unable to look at him, she turned her face. Her hands fell limply at her side.
“That is not acceptable.” Dimitri rumbled the words against her throat.
It was unacceptable because she was an amateur. Because she was untrained. Unskilled. Inexperienced. Because she’d been playing at
being a mercenary, while the people who actually knew what they were doing were left in the dark. There was nothing she could say to change things. She deserved every angry word fired at her.
“Do you have any idea how crazy I was, knowing I couldn’t watch your back? Knowing if something happened I wouldn’t be able to get to you in time? You left me helpless.” He hissed the word. It was the final insult to him, the fact she’d taken away his ability to protect.
Megan blinked back tears that threatened. It hurt to swallow. Her throat was tight with words she couldn’t say. Words she had no right to say. What was the point of an apology now? Empty words, offered too late.
“It was the longest twenty minutes of my life,” Dimitri said on a growl. “Waiting for you to come out of there. I felt every second. You can’t be in danger. It drives me insane when I know you’re in danger.” Dimitri’s nose rubbed up her throat. He nipped her earlobe. A chastisement that had her jerking within the cage he’d made of his body. “It can’t happen again. I won’t allow it.” His forehead fell to her shoulder. “Megan.” There was agony in the word. “How could you make me choose like that?”
Megan stilled. “Choose?”
“You or my sister,” he whispered. “Save you and ruin the chance to get at Rudi’s records. Or let you get hurt in the hope I’d get another chance at the records down the line.” His eyes closed slowly. Megan stopped breathing. Slowly, his eyelids fluttered open. The black depths of his eyes held emotion she was terrified to name. “You made me choose. Don’t ever do that again.”
“You didn’t have to choose,” Megan whispered, her heart beating so loudly she almost couldn’t hear her own words. “I made it out. I got the information. We’re both going to be fine.”
He shook his head slowly. “No. I had to choose. I had to be prepared. I had to know what I would do if you didn’t come out on time, if something went wrong. I had to know.”
She couldn’t ask. She didn’t want to know what his choice had been. The fact he’d had to make one was enough. Pain enough. Promise enough. She felt her bruised heart crack open and she felt Dimitri slip inside.
He bit her bottom lip. Hard. It wasn’t the teasing caress of a lover, it was the reprimand of a man on the edge.
“Never.” His words came out as a breath. “Never again.”
Unable to take her eyes from his, Megan reached up with a shaking hand and cupped the back of his neck. She tugged him to her, closing the scant distance between them. And then she poured her promise into a kiss.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The beast inside Dimitri, the one that had been barely leashed since Megan walked into Rudi’s house alone, broke free. She’d taken his control from him when she’d removed him from the operation. Now he wanted it back. But only she could give it to him. Only she could ease the fear that had been riding him, hot like rage, since she’d walked away from him and straight into danger.
Her nails scraped his scalp as she threaded both hands through his hair and tightened her hold. Flattening one palm to her nape and the other low on her back, he pressed her against him. She burned with the heat of her intensity. That fearlessness of hers, which was dangerous when she was in the field, made her unrestrained in her passion. Their kiss was a tussle of wills. A fight for dominance. A battle of untempered need fought out in clashing teeth and tongues.
He needed to feel her skin against his. He needed her naked. He needed it now.
Keeping her pinned against the cool glass, he fisted his hands in the neck of her dress at the base of her throat and ripped. The material was no match for his strength. Megan wrenched her lips from his, but her fingers remained tangled in his hair. She looked down, then back up at him. Her eyes sparkled, the blue luminous.
“You owe me a dress.” Her hands fell loose at her sides. What remained of her dress slid down her arms to the floor, leaving the woman dressed in a leopard print bikini.
She was all lean muscle, rich curves and satin smooth skin. He trailed a fingertip from the hollow of her throat, down through the valley of her breasts, across the satin cream expanse of her stomach to hook in the top of her bikini bottoms. She watched his progress, her cheeks flushed a perfect rose. Brilliant blue eyes turned black as she looked up at him through her lashes.
“What now?” It was a challenge.
“Take this off.” He barely recognised the low husky timbre of his voice. “Unless you want me to buy you a new bikini too.”
Her shrug was slight, but he felt it. “It isn’t my bikini. Rachel can afford another one. Do what you like with it.”
He didn’t have to be told twice. He hooked his thumbs into the thin elastic at her hips and tugged. A fleeting glimpse of delectable blonde curls protecting paradise, before his attention turned to the fine elastic straps keeping her bra top on her shoulders. He tugged. They broke.
“You like ripping my clothes from me.” It wasn’t a question. And from the flush in her cheeks and the dark need in her eyes, he would say she liked it too.
He snapped the clasp in the middle of her back and the top of her bikini fell away, leaving her gloriously naked—except for the high heeled black pumps on her feet. He took a tiny step back to look at her, folding his arms over his chest to stop from grabbing at everything he could reach. She stole his sense. What little he had left of it.
“Kick off the shoes.” Another order. He wondered if she’d humour him enough to obey. One way or another the shoes were going. Abramovich had seen her in those shoes and he didn’t want that evil son of a bitch in the room with them. Not now. Not for this.
She steadied herself by gripping his biceps and kicked off the shoes. Once they were gone, she leaned back against the window. One leg bent lazily at the knee, she ran her fingertips down his chest until they hit his folded arms. Her touch burned through the cotton of his shirt.
“You’re still dressed, Dimitri.”
“You’re not.”
He looked his fill. His eyes traced the curves of her body before returning to caress her full perfect breasts. And his look was a caress, he made sure of it. One filled with heat and promise.
“I’m losing patience,” his little cat said, making him smile.
He glanced at the picture window behind her. The lights flickering in London’s night. “People can see you.”
A glance at the darkened room and a shrug. “It’s dark in here and we’re high up.”
His lips began to curl. This woman was full of surprises. “Turn around.”
She considered him for a moment. “This is the last order I follow.” But she turned, letting it be known through her easy grace and cheeky smile that the only reason she was doing so was because she wanted to.
Her attitude made him so hard it was painful, and then he caught sight of her perfect ass and his jeans almost cut off his blood supply. He groaned in appreciation. She placed her hands high on the glass in front of her and arched her back, lifting her ass towards him like an offering.
A seductive glance over her shoulder. “Better start touching, Soldier Boy, or I’ll get bored.”
Yeah, right. Confident that she loved every minute, he let his eyes feast.
“I’m giving you until the count of three and then…” The steel in her voice didn’t match the mischief in her eyes.
She was perfect. And she was his. Tonight. Forever. He didn’t give a shit if she fought him on it. It was a done deal.
“One.” Her Highland lilt was husky.
Dimitri caught sight of her breast as her hard little nipple grazed the icy cold glass. He bet that felt good.
“Two.”
Her heart shaped ass swayed enticingly in front of him.
“Three.” She pushed away from the window.
And fast as lightning he fitted his front to her back. His arms caged her, pressing her to the glass. He felt her shiver at the dual sensations of cold, smooth glass against her front and the rough heat of his jean clad thigh pressed between her legs.
&
nbsp; “You are perfect.” He fought his way into the crook of her neck, because Megan wouldn’t give up control easily. If at all.
He pressed his thigh into her warm, wet core as he nuzzled the sensitive spot where her shoulder met her neck. How was it possible she smelled like a warm spring day on a cold dark night? She widened her stance and pressed herself against his thigh. His muscles flexed. Her backside wriggled against his erection making him groan. His hands squeezed between Megan and the glass to cup her breasts. They overflowed his grasp as he warmed the chill left behind by the window.
No longer able to resist, he bit her shoulder muscle, then soothed the mark with his tongue. She groaned and writhed against him, making it clear that she was letting him play. For now.
Reluctantly he released her. “Done sharing, Buffy.” He reached out and pulled the curtains closed in front of her. He was more than happy to indulge her exhibitionist side—another time.
He turned her in his arms, wrapping her tight against him as he opened his mouth over hers. Luscious. Delicious. His arm clamped around her waist, keeping her in place as his other hand cradled the curve of her backside. Fingers tugged at his hair as she angled his mouth to suit herself. The sensation of her tongue against his drove away the last of his anger. All that was left was need. Need for this woman who had turned his world upside down. The woman who was fast becoming an addiction for him. His woman.
She twisted fast, out of his grasp. Dimitri spun, taking a step towards her, but she held up a hand to stop him as she backed up to the bed.
“I’m getting into bed now. If you want to join me, you’d better get naked.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “Give me a show.”
He grinned, delighted at playing with her. “What do I get for making the effort to entertain you?”
She turned to climb on the bed and he almost crumpled to the floor. Knowing full well the effect the sight of her crawling onto the bed would have on him, the vixen looked over her shoulder at him.
Reckless (Benson's Boys Book 1) Page 18