by Janet Leigh
“Na nearly as lucrative as the job we pulled last week, ’eh?” Ace gave Caiyan a toast. “The Confederate sword was worth the risk. It’s a beaut!”
Caiyan scowled at Ace. Ace realized he had just spilled the beans and took a long swig of his drink.
“What do you mean you stole a sword? From where?” My voice elevated a few octaves.
“Dinnae get all irrational.”
“I’m not irrational. You promised you wouldn’t steal things anymore.”
“A Confederate sword?” Gertie cocked her head. “Wasn’t there a recent exhibition of Confederate swords at the American Civil War Museum in Appomattox?”
Caiyan glared at Gertie. “I didnae steal it. I borrowed it for a time.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. Caiyan’s business as an antiquities dealer presented opportunities that walked a fine line between legal, illegal, and electric chair. “You mean like Mitch borrowed those items from the museum in Texas?”
Before we started dating, Caiyan’s deals involved traveling back in time and stealing precious artifacts. He would hide them in a secure location—usually a grave, one of his favorite hiding places—then retrieve them in present time. He ignored the proper chain of events the item should have taken. Caiyan justified his stealing by accounting the item would have been lost in a fire, or the item was in the collection of some recluse never to be seen by the human eye. Caiyan would sell it to a museum or a collector for a pretty penny, claiming he had “discovered” it. He had gained a reputation among collectors as a sort of Indiana Jones.
Gertie caught wind of my impending interrogation and suggested she and Ace find the little girls’ room.
After they left, I turned to Caiyan. “Didn’t you promise to stop stealing and be truthful?”
“Aye, I am truthful. I only borrowed the sword. The man I met with is the curator for the museum. He commissioned me to find the missing sword.”
“But you took the sword.”
“I did, indeed.” The small tug at the corner of Caiyan’s mouth twitched. “And I’ll return the sword to the museum and claim the finder’s fee after I sell it to another buyer then steal it from him. It’s a win-win.”
“Caiyan, you stole an artifact in present day from a National Museum. If you get caught, it’s a felony! And you’re a secret agent. You work for the government.” I threw my hands up in the air.
Caiyan raised a dark eyebrow at me as if my words were ludicrous.
“It’s genius. I won’t get caught.” He moved in for another kiss. Caiyan introduced me to sex. He turned me on in a way I couldn’t seem to turn off. His passion ran deep in his Scottish veins, and he pulled me in with just a look. This overly flirtatious behavior wasn’t normal for him. Neither was the promise he just broke.
I dodged the kiss. He looked at me confused and seemed almost pissed at the dismissal.
Something didn’t sit quite right with me. I turned the ruby ring on my right finger. The ring he gave me as a symbol. A promise to change his nefarious way of life.
I told myself to enjoy the attention, but my radar flashed red, and I couldn’t ignore the signs and look in the other direction. Caiyan’s sex drive had been on major overload for the last few months.
“Dinna fash yerself, sweetheart. It’s one last minor heist before I throw in the towel for good.”
I opened my mouth to complain, but Gertie and Ace returned.
Ace finished his drink. “Since Caiyan has business this weekend and Brodie is traveling, why don’t you girls come to a party with me on Saturday?”
Caiyan shook his head. “Ye will be at headquarters on Saturday night.”
“Don’t be silly,” Ace said, wafting a hand at Caiyan. “I’ll be in the midst of the rich and famous.”
“Boss’s orders. All transporters will be staying on base during the moon cycle.”
“You must be mistaken, hon.” Ace’s words were a little garbled, and his man bun bobbled in a circle as he shook his head. “I always get my orders, then I’m free until Brodie baby needs me to pick up the brigand. It’s how things work.”
“Naugh anymore. Agent McCoy has strict orders to keep the transporters on base.”
Ace’s eyes grew wide. He jarred the table, knocking over Caiyan’s empty glass, as he surged to his feet. “Over my dead body.” He flapped his arms, a scene in the making. “I’m not missing the biggest party of the century to sit around like some housewife and wait on my man to summon me.”
Gertie protested. “I wouldn’t mind being Brodie’s housewife.”
“Yes, but you’re bloody shagging him. I’m merely going to taxi home his latest conquest.” He placed his hands on his hips and swayed slightly. “I’m going to speak to that git Agent McCoy about this disrespectful rule.”
He stormed out of the bar.
Caiyan motioned toward the door. “Ye better go calm him down. I’ll get the check.”
Gertie rolled her eyes and took off after Ace.
Caiyan kissed me good-bye with a longing that stirred things I wanted to suppress. My body needed to be angry at him.
“Come see me later tonight, yeah?”
Caiyan was my potion and my poison. I needed to take Gertie home, and then I would decide. “I’ll think about it.” He pouted, and the small scar that cut through his upper lip reflected the light. My inner voice puckered her lips to kiss the old wound. I averted my gaze and stood to leave. He stood and kissed me again with lots of tongue. His hand came up and grasped my right breast, caressing it openly. I broke away from the kiss, and Caiyan almost fell over me. The bartender was staring. The couple at the next table yelled at us to get a room. “Jen, I cannae seem to get enough of you, please come over later?”
“Maybe,” I said and left him to pay the check while I searched for a tub of ice water to douse my burning lady parts.
* * *
Gertie had a taxi waiting when I exited the bar. She had hustled Ace inside and he seemed calmer as I climbed into the seat next to him. I gave the driver the address to a shop located across from Central Park, our favorite place to depart the city.
“What’s up with the Scot?” Ace asked me.
“What do you mean?”
“He was overly cuddly in there in case you didn’t notice.”
“I thought the same thing,” Gertie said. “He was all over you, like zombies on an overweight bridesmaid.”
“He did show an unusual amount of PDA.” I agreed and twisted the ruby ring on my finger.
“And when we stole tha’ sword, I swear his eyes turned red and smoke came out of his nose. It was brilliant and scary at the same time,” Ace said, keeping his voice out of earshot of the cabbie. “Instead of sticking to the plan and exiting the way we came in, Caiyan barged out the front door and cleaned out the guard like he was a linebacker for the Denver Broncos.”
I wasn’t surprised Caiyan changed the plans on Ace, but Caiyan was more of a sneak than a brute. I needed to see him alone to investigate his sudden change in demeanor. I sighed. “He wants me to come over later. Maybe I can figure out what’s going on with him.”
“That means you’re going to sacrifice yourself first, and when he’s all tired out, maybe you can get to the bottom of it.” Gertie gave a giggle-snort that sent Ace into a fit of laughter.
“Or on top of it,” Ace said as he and Gertie gave each other a high five. “Way to take one for the team.”
“Y’all think you’re so funny.” I frowned at them and changed the subject. “Do you think Caiyan is right about the general ordering us to stay on base?”
“I am not going to miss the party of the century,” Ace said. “I’ve already got me dress.” Ace dropped us off in Central Park before taking the cab to a friend’s apartment on the other side of the city.
Gertie kept watch while I called my vessel.
“Every time you do that I get the heebie-jeebies. It’s just not right, traveling across the nation in a rickety old outhouse,” Gertie said a
s she climbed inside.
In the blink of an eye, we were back in our garden. The outhouse landed with a sharp bump and sent Gertie sprawling across the lawn.
“Dammit!” she hollered, standing and brushing off the grass.
I smiled and whispered, “Rickety old outhouse indeed.”
Chapter 7
I went upstairs to freshen up. After I curled my hair and reapplied my makeup, I changed into a jumpsuit I’d picked up at Anthropologie and a pair of low heels that said let’s have dinner and chat about your behavior, rather than take me to the bedroom. It was Caiyan’s least favorite outfit because it required a lot of work to remove. The garnet color went perfectly with my favorite Brave Red M.A.C. lipstick.
I landed in Central Park shortly before nine. Caiyan always met me when I landed after dark, but he was nowhere in sight. I exited from the clump of trees that hid our secret landing spot and searched the walkway. No Caiyan. I texted him thirty minutes before I left home, and he responded with a Can’t wait to see you. Why didn’t he meet me? I was getting a bad feeling about this date.
It was still early, and people were out for a casual stroll after dinner. I searched faces for Caiyan, but he wasn’t there. With my WTF training and the small taser I kept in my pocket, I felt safe walking through Central Park. I exited the park and crossed Central Park West. The doorman greeted me as I entered Caiyan’s building, and I took the elevator to the tenth floor.
I knocked on the door. No answer. I checked the door handle and it clicked open. My radar escalated to karate chop level. I entered slowly. Fifteenth-century medieval relics and leather were the primary decor in his apartment. The Scottish coat of arms hung on the wall opposite me as I inched in the doorway. Smooth jazz music played from speakers hidden throughout the apartment. This was not the scene of a man in distress. The musky, manly scent of freshly oiled antique furniture and cinnamon greeted me. It smelled like him, but there was a light fragrance in the air as well. Something sweet, feminine. My inner voice started making assumptions. I fiddled with the ruby ring on my finger and prayed she was wrong. Caiyan and I were monogamous, right?
“Caiyan,” I called out. No answer. I picked up a cast-iron finial from the breakfront. It weighed heavy in my hand as I turned the corner. Rose petals were strewn on the ground with a trail of them leading to the bedroom. This was not like Caiyan at all. Gooey romance was not his thing. Hot, mind-blowing sex, yes. Nice dinners and presents, yes. Stereotypical romantic gestures used in movies-definitely not his thing. I tightened my grip on the iron head basher and tried to remember where he kept his gun. The roses trailed into the bedroom and stopped at the bathroom door. The sound of water running inside gave me flashbacks of the movie Psycho. At least I wasn’t the one in the shower. Was Caiyan in there with a lover, or did a brigand have him strung up by the shower rod?
I raised my makeshift weapon and opened the door. The shower was a glorious marble and glass beast that extended the entire width of his bathroom. His silk boxers were on the floor, and his body was a gray silhouette behind the steamed shower glass. He was alone. I blew out the breath I was holding followed by an increase in my temper. I lowered the fleur-de-lys finial and pulled open the door. His lean, muscular, naked body greeted me. The Thunder key gleamed against his well-tanned skin. His green eyes sparkled when they met mine. He smiled that weird, quirky smile and beckoned me inside.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
“I see that, but maybe we should talk first.”
He looked me up and down and then frowned at my outfit. “Ye wore the restraints tonight, lassie, but no matter. I’ll have you oot of that in no time.” He reached out with a soapy hand and yanked me inside. My outfit was ruined. I started to protest but he covered my mouth with a deep, sensual kiss. Fire shot to my lower half and I relented. After the sex, we could talk about his strange behavior.
Caiyan maneuvered me onto the stone bench and removed my shoes, tossing them aside along with the piece of iron I still had tight in my fist.
“Ye won’t be needing that,” he said, raising an eyebrow, the question of head bashing left unasked. I wasn’t convinced I wouldn’t need it later.
“I was worried when you didn’t meet me at the park.” I crossed my arms over my chest as the water rippled down his body, sliced into tiny waterfalls by the cut of his muscular biceps.
“Aye, I wanted to surprise you. The doorman alerted me to yer arrival, and I made ready.”
“We might have ended up here without giving me a heart attack in the process.”
“Might is an evil word. Now stand up, I want to pleasure ye before I get pruney.”
I stood, and he made a turnaround motion with his index finger. Untying the complicated straps of my outfit that were supposed to keep him at bay, Caiyan released the straps and my soaking wet jumpsuit slid to the floor.
His body was ready for me as I stepped out of my cheeky panties. He spooned my back into his chest and began soaping up my front. Gentle kisses tickled my neck as he skimmed his hands across my breasts. Rolling his fingers around my nipple, he circled and pinched, making me cry out. The pain was erotic and sensual. He turned me around, parting my lips, and our tongues touched and roamed. He reached out and with a touch of a button the warm water sprinkled on us from the showerhead above. Tiny beads of water tapping on my skin made me quiver in his arms. He lowered his head and took my breast in his mouth, his fingers finding their favorite place to explore. The water glistened off his back, and his muscles tightened as I caressed his firm buttocks. My insides burned and I begged him to make it stop. He braced his back against the wall and lifted me, sliding inside me. Our bodies moved in a wet dance of passion. My insides heaved, tightened, squeezed, and his eyes stared deeply into mine as he followed my lead. The reason I had agreed to come see him was a distant memory.
* * *
After the shower, we had sex again on the giant four-poster bed he had glommed from a sixteenth-century castle.
Then again on the breakfast table.
By midnight I was done for. I couldn’t move my arms because the last sexcapade involved holding myself up as I rode Caiyan like a wild beast.
I vaguely remembered Caiyan pulling on his boxers and I donned one of his t-shirts and coming into the kitchen earlier in an attempt to cook food. Now, we were both naked and exhausted.
He pulled on the pair of boxers that had been discarded on a nearby lamp. “I’m hungry. How aboot I order food?”
My stomach rumbled, and I agreed with his idea.
“Thai OK?” His hair stuck up wildly in all directions and he looked like a little boy that had already played with the prize from his happy meal and was ready to eat the chicken nuggets.
I laughed and went in search of the t-shirt I had borrowed earlier, while he ordered takeout.
The food arrived. It seemed like the entire Thai restaurant menu was spread out on Caiyan’s coffee table.
“That’s a lot of food,” I said.
“I have worked up an appetite.” He returned from the kitchen and handed me a glass of wine.
“Well yes, but Caiyan that’s enough food for six people.” I picked up a carton of Pad Ka-Pow and dug in.
“Ye make me hungry with all yer wild sex.”
“Me?”
He clicked on the TV and we watched an episode of Criminal Minds as he devoured the entire lot of Thai food.
“We need to talk about our relationship,” I said and finished the wine in my glass.
He smiled. “Aye. I think based on tonight it’s going pretty weel.”
I huffed, stood, gathered the empty boxes, and dropped them into the trash. As I passed him on the way back to my seat, he grabbed me around the waist and bent me over the couch. I started to protest.
Lowering himself to his knees, he did that thing with his tongue that I like and then moved me to the sofa. He had me on all fours with my face pressed into the soft goatskin pillows that adorned his couch. I was in awe. The man wa
s relentless. My inner voice was grabbing her lubricant and whooping loudly.
We were both escalating up the hill to oblivion.
“Jen, this feels great. I want to marry you, so we can do this every night.”
I stopped short. Did he just ask me to marry him while he had me doggie style?
He flipped me over and smothered me with kisses.
“Don’t you agree?” He asked and entered me again.
“Agree on what? Are you asking me to marry you?”
“Aye, that’s what I’m askin’,” he said under heavy-lidded eyes.
I opened my mouth to tell him I didn’t know, and he kissed me deeply, slowing his rhythm into a pulsating composition of pleasure. I couldn’t resist. The heat was pushing up from inside me, bubbling and boiling like an angry volcano about to erupt. The melody of our lovemaking increased to form an intense, ravenous score. He called out my name and his key boomed as our passion exploded into a frenzy of fireworks.
“My god, ye were spectacular,” he said, catching his breath and wrapping me in his arms. “I cannae wait until we are married.”
“I’ll have to think about it,” I answered. It was the only answer I could come up with. A few months ago we were at odds. Caiyan still had a long way to go to prove to me he was done with his thieving ways. Stealing the Confederate sword was an example he wasn’t holding up his end of the bargain.
“What’s there to think aboot?” He pouted and rolled off me. “Ye can live here, and we can make love every night.”
“What about my job?”
“You can just pop over and work if you want, but ye dinnae have to work. And the traveling will have to stop.”
Whoa, buddy. “Why would I stop traveling?”
“When we’re married ye won’t need to travel. Working for the WTF's too dangerous. Besides, ye will stay home wit’ the wee bairns.”
I shot up from the sofa and put both hands on my hips. “Wee bairns? Are you out of your mind? I’m not ready for children. We are not ready for children. Two months ago, you lied to me and risked my life in Berlin, and now I’m supposed to forget everything and marry you?”