by Piper Stone
“Don’t you know?” David snarked.
“BDSM. Right? He has some thing for BDSM clubs.” The thought made her shudder, a reminder of Pierre’s words, his dominating actions.
The fact he’d shackled her to the bed.
Oh, no. She wasn’t going down this road.
“Yeah.” Snickering, her partner was far too amused for her liking. “I’ll send you some locations of various BDSM clubs in town. Maybe he’s staying with some chick. Who knows with these wealthy businessmen. However, I don’t know if you should go alone. Foreign country and all. Beautiful woman. You might end up on a slave ship heading for some third world country.”
“Very funny,” she chided, hearing his laughter.
“I’m not entirely kidding. I know an agent who’s been working on a nasty slave trade operation. You’re alone, which still pisses me off.”
“Yeah, well, this was supposed to be one night; securing Mr. Wallace then a return trip.”
“Then you lost him.”
Another round of laughter. She was going to kick his ass when she returned. “Fuck you, David.”
“That’s what you get for waking me up in the middle of the night. Just see if you can find a group of women to go with. That’s all I’m suggesting.”
She exhaled, a prickly sensation rocking down the back of her legs. She turned in a full circle, trying to find the source but could swear she was being watched. “That’s fine. Also, find out if his business trip took a different path and call me.” The face was unforgettable, the body mouthwatering.
“O-kay. I can do that.”
Pierre stood off in the distance, his hands in his pockets. He was staring at her intently. “There is an officer here by the name of Pierre Renier. Find out everything you can about him. I have a feeling he’s not who he purports himself to be. A picture would be good.”
“Jesus Christ. Can’t you—”
She ended the call before he finished the sentence, taking a deep breath as Pierre walked toward her, the biggest shit-eating grin she’d ever seen on anyone’s face. She’d learned to trust her instinct from day one on the job. She wasn’t going to stop now.
“I hear you missed me,” he said, lifting his sunglasses and whistling as he dropped his gaze far too slowly. “Woo-we. You are truly gorgeous.”
“How could I miss what’s clearly not wanted?” she retorted, even though her nipples hardened immediately from the sound of his husky voice alone. At least she knew he was who he said he was. Supposedly. “I guess there are no secrets in this town.”
“When a scrumptious woman asks for the likes of me, that is news.” He raked his hand through his hair, the move far too sexy.
Damn him. Damn the situation. And damn the fact her pussy was quivering, already dampening her panties. “Just cut the crap, Officer.”
“You’re still angry with me for handcuffing you to the bed but you can certainly call me Pierre after what we shared.”
Sophia slowly removed her sunglasses, allowing him to see the glare in her eyes. “Very funny gesture. Do you shackle every woman you have sex with? A perk of your profession perhaps?”
“I would have returned. Eventually.” His eyes twinkled.
Even if the man was on the up and up, the cavalier attitude was enough to warrant him a swift kick in the balls.
Twice.
“We had our evening. Now, why don’t you stay the hell away from me?” She gave him the sweetest smile she could muster before turning and walking away. How had she allowed the asshole to get to her in the first place? Her grand idea wasn’t going to work. She couldn’t stomach or trust him long enough to even gather a look inside a freaking BDSM club.
Pierre jogged in front of her. “You are pissed and with good reason. I am no gentleman. That was a horrible thing to do.”
Why did he have a shit-eating grin on his face?
“Yes, it was.”
“Allow me to make it up to you.”
She laughed, stopping short, ready to punch the hell out of him. Then she realized that having him around just might come in handy. “And how do you propose to do that?”
“Dinner at a fabulous restaurant. Wine. Music. Dancing. We have some delicious and very kinky clubs in town. Then who knows what else? We will watch the sunset together as we dream about all things dominating.”
“Uh-huh. Your style of bondage leaves much to be desired.” He certainly seemed to know his way around. Maybe this could work, if she didn’t beat him to death.
“Bondage can be a very beautiful thing, as long as trust is involved. Passion and pain go hand in hand. You don’t have to hide your desires and longings that no one else knows from me.”
“You don’t know a thing about me,” she said bitterly then reminded herself that she’d been trained to go undercover at a moment’s notice, no matter the circumstances. She could play the submissive with the best of them.
Maybe.
“But I truly want to. No more teasing about last night.”
The softness of his deep voice penetrated every cell, floating into her bloodstream. She attempted to fall into the act, vulnerable yet inquisitive. “All right. The club sounds... fascinating, but I’ve never been to one before. They actually frighten me, but do not use that against me.”
He slipped his index finger under her chin, inching closer. “Ashley, I truly am sorry. I had no intentions of hurting or embarrassing you nor will I ever use anything against you. Our little game just got out of hand. You are one of the most incredible women I’ve been lucky enough to spend time with. I meant everything I said last night, and I will prove to you that I am not the jerk you must think I am. Allow me to show you the darker side of desire, but in a controlled manner.”
She wondered whether his polished statement was true or not; however, this was one date she refused to turn down. The asshole had no real understanding of just how helpful he was going to be.
* * *
The rat was on the loose and Wrath was pissed. The mark had slipped through his fingers. This wasn’t going to happen a second time. Almost fucking up on the last job had cost him fifty thousand dollars and he’d taken a hit on his stellar reputation. Still, he was no monster, at least not by his standards.
He took no comfort in the fact that the illustrious and very powerful American had merely changed his plans instead of catching wind that there was a contract on his life. The situation had altered the very course of Wrath’s entire week. The five hundred thousand dollar payment was predicated on Mr. Wallace never making the conference in Belgium. He had exactly three days left to accomplish his mission, or all hell was going to break loose. Besides, he had plans for a two-week vacation and he refused to allow anything or anyone to get in the way.
Even a beautiful redhead. He’d seen a hint of her vulnerability, although he’d been surprised she’d actually admitted her fear. A BDSM club might indeed suit his mood for the evening, allowing self-absorption into the kind of darkness that fueled his needs. His thought of owning her hadn’t faded, although he was certainly just as cautious. He simply hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind since leaving her curled under the thin sheets, the outline of her voluptuous body irresistible.
The taste of her had been incredible, the feel of having his cock buried deep inside driving the savagery deep within.
He’d been furious with the slight weakness, vowing to walk away from her, making certain she couldn’t trail behind him. Now this. He took a sip of his drink, amused at the irony.
After realizing the mark had never set foot in the hotel, he’d gone to his own suite, finding out everything he could about Mr. Wallace’s extracurricular activities. The man had a penchant for giving pain, a true sadist. Well, he’d come to the right city in order to get his kink on. He wasn’t a man who believed in coincidences. There was only one club that a man of Mr. Wallace’s stature would bother setting foot in.
And Wrath could gain entrance with ease, everything carte blanche. The t
hought kept his cock as hard as a rock.
He sat in the hotel lobby bar, fingering the rim of his glass as he waited for Ashley’s arrival. Hearing his phone, he sighed, his gut telling him who was on the other end of the line.
His father.
This particular hit was just as important to the family as it was to members of the group who’d hired him. Maybe more so since millions of dollars were on the line. If Stephen Wallace brought what some experts considered the most reputable database system in the world to the forefront, various stocks owned by members of the group would plummet.
Including his father’s. Benedetto Constantino wasn’t a patient man nor was he forgiving, even for one of his sons. There would be hell to pay at home.
And Wrath’s reputation would be dropped into a cesspool.
There was also an additional and more viable reason for the hit, although certainly not something he could discuss with the consortium. Maybe he was getting soft in his old age. He snorted at the thought.
“Father. How are you?”
“I understand that Mr. Wallace has had a change in plans.” Benedetto spoke rapidly, no doubt busy being serviced by one of his concubines.
“He has, but not to worry. I have reason to believe he’s somewhere in town. The man will have yet another alteration within the next two days.” He laughed then took a sip of his drink. He was taking another significant chance by having Ashley on his arm, especially since she’d inquired about him. Granted, leaving her shackled to the bed hadn’t been one of his better decisions, but he’d anticipated hunting Mr. Wallace and completing his mission the night before.
Then leaving town before the real authorities arrived.
If the Americans got wind of the contract, they would send reinforcements soon enough.
Luck certainly wasn’t in his favor. At least the young hotel clerk was quite amenable, choosing the decision to live rather than running to the appropriate authorities. Wrath’s cover was intact at least for the remainder of the time he was in Monaco.
Why not enjoy his time while he waited? His decision had been made. Maybe his luck would change after all.
“That better happen, son, or you fully understand the ramifications of what will occur.” Benedetto had a snarl in his voice, the threat one he’d give to any of the men he trusted in his consortium.
Wrath snickered. “Don’t worry, Father. Everything is under control. Have I failed you yet?”
“We shall see, Ricardo. You know what’s at stake here.”
“As always. I am the best at what I do.”
His father was the one to end the call, taking only the minimal amount of time to conduct business. Granted, Benedetto was one of the wealthiest men in the world, even though on paper, no one would truly know or be able to appreciate it. He shoved the phone into his jacket pocket, rapping his fingers on the table, growing more impatient by the minute.
He’d certainly acquired his father’s demeanor and habits through the years. Like father, like son, which meant Wrath was a consummate killer, enjoying every aspect of his profession. Nothing was going to keep him from performing this particular task.
The drink was smooth but unable to squelch the nagging in his gut. Ashley. He had secure connections, ones that allowed him to find out the smallest details about anyone in the world. Her identity had been proven, various details about her life going back to junior high school. He’d even been able to crack her juvenile record. The girl had a colorful past. On paper.
The nagging remained. It was all too... perfect in his mind. Tonight her resolve as well as her trust would be in his hands. If she wasn’t who she said she was, he would find out soon enough.
The consequences of lying to him would be irrevocable.
As he brought the glass to his lips, he was able to see her in the distance. The garish outfit from before had been replaced by a stunning emerald green dress, highlighting her luscious curves. She’d swept her long hair into a bun, allowing the world to see her body’s beautiful long lines. His cock was instantly at full attention, his libido increasing to the point his entire body ached with desire. He’d taken pride over the years of never getting involved with a woman and certainly never allowing himself to get emotional in any manner.
Why did this girl challenge him in every way?
She tipped her head, finally locking eyes with his. Her smile was more knowing than alluring as she headed toward the bar. There wasn’t a man in the lobby who hadn’t taken notice. She was by far the most beautiful woman in Monte Carlo.
Wrath swirled his finger around the rim of his glass, studying her intently. She could very well be his demise. That could lead to making a very difficult decision with regard to her life. Hell, no. He might be a brutal assassin, a man without a conscience, but ending the life of someone so precious wasn’t something he could stomach. There were other ways of keeping her in line.
If...
Ashley stood over the table, sweeping her gaze down to his Italian loafers and sockless feet. He’d purposely chosen a more casual look for their date, even though he had no intentions of staying dressed for very long. She was far too tempting to resist.
“You look ravishing,” he commented, easing back in his chair as his gaze became an indication of the true predator he was.
“And you look at me as if you’re ready to feast.”
Chuckling, he pushed away his drink. “I do enjoy a good meal.”
She gripped the back of the chair in front of her, giving him a doleful look. “Where are we going?”
After rising to a standing position, he held out his hand. “Come with me, but in doing so, you also agree to allow my control. Where we’re going, I will keep you safe.” He could see the same expression as before, self-doubt as well as consternation about the man standing in front of her.
“I’ve been down this road before, Pierre. Remember? That didn’t end well, and I am no fool. I’m not certain I can do this after all.”
He took careful steps closer, allowing her space. There was no mistaking the vibe they both shared, the intense tethering. “As I promised, that will never happen again without your permission. I assure you that the pleasure you experienced can be heightened in methods you’ve only dreamed of.” He allowed the carrot to dangle.
“Can I trust you?” Her grasp was tentative, her voice like that of a purring kitten.
She was used to being in full control in her professional life but now? She was putty in his hands and he couldn’t wait to experience the club with her. The realization was... enlightening. He pulled her hand toward his mouth, rubbing his thumb back and forth before pressing his lips against her knuckles. The sensations rocketing through him made him feel so alive.
The girl had more control over him than he dared to believe.
“Hmmm... Excellent question, Ashley. My answer? With your life.”
Chapter Four
With her life.
The words were difficult to relate to in several ways. Or maybe Sophia had no interest in believing them. She wasn’t even certain her partner could be trusted with her safety, but as she sat across from Pierre, she was beginning to question several aspects of her profession and her passion.
Dinner on the French Riviera, the sun setting over the ocean. She was forced to admit, she was enthralled by the ride in his sleek Ferrari as well as the conversation.
David had called, assuring her that the convention in Belgium hadn’t changed schedules in any manner and that Stephen Wallace was slated to make an appearance in two days. His flight had also arrived as anticipated, the man renting a car immediately after. At this point, there didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary.
Except for the CEO’s disappearance.
It was vital that she pretend she wanted to go to the club, no matter how many reservations she had. She could find herself in a terrible predicament, even life-threatening. There was no way of determining when the assassin was going to make a hit or where, and she had to be
prepared for anything.
At least the picture David had sent of Officer Renier had confirmed Pierre’s identity. Then why wasn’t she feeling entirely comfortable?
She made certain her purse was never far from reach given she had no other choice but to bring her gun. There were too many red flags with no solid information and she certainly wasn’t going to be unprepared if Mr. Wallace made an appearance. She’d thought of several excuses if Pierre found her weapon, although none of them would necessarily keep her from either forfeiting it or answering questions she wasn’t prepared to answer. Very few civilians carried a Sig, her weapon of choice.
“Who are you really, Pierre?” she asked as she sipped on the last of her wine, twilight settling in.
“Just a man with an interest in a beautiful lady.” He smiled after his response. When she didn’t respond, he shrugged. “This is a temporary gig, I guess.”
“You mean securing a casino?”
“Monte Carlo. Everything in my life right now. I was trained in the military, which brought me here. Quite frankly, I never had any desire to uphold the law. I mean at least in the terms of catching the bad guy.”
“I thought you were the bad guy.”
“You really believe that?” Pierre leaned over, folding his arms on the table. He was so damn boyish-looking in the candlelight, even though everything about him screamed of his rugged and carefree nature. She was caught off guard how much she’d missed the closeness of just having dinner with someone she cared about.
Holy hell, no. She couldn’t actually care about this man after what he’d done to her. She bit the inside of her cheek, hiding behind her glass as she brought it to her lips. He’d managed to see right through her in ways other men hadn’t. She’d layered herself with protection after one horrible breakup, pretending she didn’t need a man in any regard.
“You aren’t the man you say you are. That much I do know. I’ve been around the block more than once, Pierre. I’m very observant.”
“Given your job as a thief?” he teased.
“This was a foray into fulfilling a certain level of danger I crave. I have no intentions of continuing. Gambling isn’t my thing.”