His Devil's Chains

by Linzi Basset

  William knew that ‘gone’ in this instance meant dead.

  “Remember what Mr. Z said, Seely. Under the radar. They would already be on guard and most probably under FBI protection by now. Stay out of their way. Find out what you can and report to me on a daily basis. You’ve been warned. Fuck this up … I don’t suppose I need to tell you what would happen if you do?”

  “I’ll be careful.” Seely sounded like a surly child.

  “You have five days to find out every little detail about their lives. I want to know where they are, what they do, and who their friends are. Find something I can use to get close to them.” He turned a dead-eye on William. “But you stay the fuck away from them unless ordered otherwise. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, what are you waiting for?”

  William scrambled to his feet, rattled and unsure of himself for the first time since he’d been accepted as an operative into the Sixth Order.

  Dexter stared after him as he rushed out. His expression was inscrutable. Mr. Z had been right; Seely wasn’t the right man for the job but the necessity to eliminate Brad Flint quickly, had left him with no choice. For now, he had to fill the void. In the meantime, he would have to start looking for a replacement. He needed someone with steel in his veins but also a sharp brain that could think outside the box.

  “They’ve become cocky. Murdering someone in broad daylight in a building filled with people … although somehow it doesn’t quite fit their usual MO.”

  Rhone’s deep voice boomed through the boardroom. It was just after dawn on Saturday—not unusual for them. When circumstances required immediate action, they were called to an emergency meeting over the weekend.

  They were all studying the video footage that Richard had been able to retrieve from the County Recorder’s office.

  “Clever bugger. He knew where all the cameras were and made sure his face was turned away every time. We’ve got no clear picture of him,” Max said in a disgruntled voice.

  “Which means we don’t know who he is,” Keon confirmed.

  “Have you discussed this with Jordan, Jack?” Rhone’s sharp gaze landed on his friend who seemed completely at ease and relaxed for the first time in a very long while.

  “No, and I’m not going to.”

  “Jesus, mate, her life is in danger.” Max pointed to the picture of Lillian Dunn’s corpse.

  “I’m aware of that, Max, but she’s already under my protection with a security team in place to protect her when I’m not around.” He reached for a croissant and bit into it with relish. “She’s got an agenda. I’ve told you this before and now that I know she’s Brad Flint’s daughter, I’m even more intrigued to find out why she singled me out.”

  “I suppose you’ve got a point,” Rhone mused as he studied the visuals on the screen. “One thing the death of this woman confirms is that she’s not working with or for the Sixth Order.” He frowned. “There’s something that doesn’t make sense. The Sixth Order doesn’t make mistakes and this to me screams like one.”

  “You’re right. It might be that they got rid of Flint without having a proper contingency in place. His replacement might be a little too keen to show his worth and in the process,” Lance pointed to the picture of Lillian Dunn’s corpse, “he fucked up.”

  “There’s something else we need to consider,” Jack said. His jaw moved as he chewed thoughtfully. “Max confirmed that CI was used as the money laundering shell company for the Syndicate, right?”

  “Yep, we have,” Max nodded.

  “It might be that there are some of their funds still in holding, which could be why they’re so keen to find the new owners.”

  “And because they’re young and suddenly lambasted with the responsibility of a very lucrative company, the Sixth Order probably believes it would be easy as pie to lure them into their lair of deceit with promises of more financial gain,” Keon speculated.

  “Yeah, the money laundering aspect has been running smoothly under Flint’s control, so they’ll try everything in their power to keep CI as the shell company for that vein of their business,” Jack said. He ran his hand over his neatly trimmed beard.

  “From past experience, the Sixth Order will play one off against the other.” Ethan glanced at Jack. “And your sub is the most vulnerable one of the two, Jack.”

  “I agree. If they get their hands on her, they’ll use her to force her brother’s hand,” Richard interjected. “From what I’ve been able to uncover about the twins, they’re very close. Gideon helped Peyton, or Jordan as we know her, to start her own Private Investigation business, Tactical Private Investigations, in London. The company is an investigative, surveillance and process serving firm. They specialize in insurance and criminal defense, and domestic family law matters.” Richard tapped on his iPad as he relayed the information. “They serve attorneys, businesses, corporations, organizations, and private individuals throughout the entirety of Europe. The majority of investigators on her staff have a police background, as does she. She started off in the police force but found her niche as a PI. Quite a successful one at that. Your little sub is sharp, mate.”

  It didn’t slip the team’s attention that Jack didn’t protest with his usual comeback that she was only his trial sub. It was evident there had been a shift in their relationship.

  “I understand that you’re biding your time, Jack, but perhaps it will be wise to push her to open up to you. The sooner she realizes her life is in danger, the better.”

  “You’re right, Max,” Jack conceded, but the pensive expression on his face didn’t set his friend’s mind at ease. Of all of them, Max knew better than anyone how hard headed he could be.

  Jack was pondering his own reaction on the way home. He didn’t want to dissect the reason for his delay in exposing Jordan for the fraudulent role she was playing. He didn’t have to. He already knew. He wanted her to trust him enough to be the one to admit the reason why he was the one she had set her sights on and what she was trying to gain.

  The night they had just spent had spun Jack’s world off its axle. He’d started off by fucking her with his usual wild abandon. Hard and rough like an unstoppable train. It had shaken him when his touch became tender, his hard hands turned gentle and the sex morphed into lovemaking. It was something he’d never wanted to feel again because with it came emotions and expectations.

  Neither of which he had in him to feel or had any intention of offering.

  Yeah, right, Jack, my mate. If that’s the case, then why the change in you?

  Jack shook himself. It was a fucking mess. One that threatened to disrupt his well-disciplined existence. He didn’t have the time or the need in his life for a woman, not a permanent one at any rate.

  “Yeah, three more weeks and then it’s over. Maybe even sooner, if she admits to what it is she wants from me.”

  Jack ignored the tightening in his gut at the thought of watching her walk out of his house when the time came.

  Chapter Ten

  “Oh, my, this feels heavenly,” Jordan sighed in blissful contentment. She was still disoriented and not completely awake but who could resist the soporific effect of a hot jacuzzi tub filled to the brim with fragrant bubble bath?

  The gentle pulses of the water soothed her aching muscles—some she didn’t even know existed. All as a result of the sexual overindulgence of the previous night. Not that she was complaining. Anything but. Sex with Jack Blackmore was so much more than she had dreamed. It had been explosive and completely rocked her world—threw it topsy-turvy and left her gasping for breath. Instinct warned her that she would never find the same level of satisfaction with another man.

  “Oh, lord, I’m so seriously fucked,” she wailed.

  Jordan squeezed her eyes shut as she recounted the discussion she’d had with Gideon and his strict instruction to keep playing the role they had set out for her.

  It wasn’t as easy as Gideon or she had believed it would be at
the outset. She’d admitted as much to herself days after her first encounter with Jack. She had been too attracted to him to remain aloof. Now, after last night, she was afraid she was doomed. There was no way she’d be able to keep lying to him. It just wasn’t in her nature. Besides that, she didn’t want to keep secrets from him. Not since she aimed to become a permanent fixture in his life.

  Whoa! Slam on the brakes, Jordan Clark! Supersonic sexual prowess doesn’t automatically migrate to love. You know that better than anyone.

  A smile curved her lips upward. She’d still been fast asleep when Jack had picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. Her initial shriek of surprise when he’d lowered her into the tub had turned to a purr of pleasure when the hot water closed around her body. His smile had been like a ray of sunshine in her still sleep-muddled mind. Her nose wrinkled as the aromatic flavor of bacon and coffee filled her nostrils.

  She squinted upward through her eyelashes. Jack stood over her with an enigmatic look on his face as he stared at her.

  “Sit up, lazy bones. It’s time for breakfast.”

  Her eyes opened wide. “I’m having breakfast in the tub?”

  “Uh huh, while I massage your limbs,” he murmured as he placed the tray within her reach. “Eat up, love.”

  The plume of her breath puffed out in a soft exhale against his cheek as he leaned forward, reaching for the fragrant liquid soap she had brought with her. He breathed in deeply as he rubbed his hands.

  “You have a liking for fresh scents, I see,” he conversed as he gently brushed his hands over her shoulders, leaving a soapy residue behind. “Your perfume has a similar smell.”

  Jordan blinked in surprise. “I’m amazed you noticed. Hmm,” she cooed as she bit into a crispy piece of bacon.

  He began to massage the soothing foam into her skin. A soft exhale signaled his contentment with the moment. Jordan flashed him a look from beneath her eyelashes. The sound of that single breath dispersed into the steaming mist swirling upward from the warm water.

  He shot her a brief glance. “I would’ve thought you had been in the lifestyle long enough to know a Dom doesn’t miss anything, my pet, especially not when it comes to his own sub.”

  His voice drifted into her psyche with a soft overtone that reached deep inside her soul. She was certain she detected a question in his tone and stared at him, searching. As usual, he hid his feelings behind an impassive expression, however, she didn’t fail to notice the tension in his taut body, the deep lines that cut into the sculptured rigidity of his chin.

  “Ahem … I’ve never been in a D/s relationship before,” she admitted with a catch in her voice. She reached an impulsive decision to open up to him and offer him a slither of the truth.

  “That much I already know.” Jack slowly began to massage her legs, using firm, soothing circular motions from her thighs to ankles.

  Jordan relaxed her head against the side of the tub, chewing on a piece of toast as she watched him intently. His expression didn’t change. She had the eerie feeling that Jack suspected, or for that matter, knew more about her than she cared to consider.

  “Is it your way of telling me that so far I’m failing as your sub?” Jordan waited for his response with bated breath.

  Jack slanted an amused look at her. “Do you really need me to answer that?” He was surprised when her expression fell, instantly turning her sunny face pale and drawn. He patted her nose, leaving a clump of foam to slither down her face. “You’re still here, Jordan. If I wasn’t happy with our arrangement, you would’ve been out on your ass the first night you so brazenly arrived on my doorstep.”

  Her smile was like a field of sunflowers opening to bloom all at the same time. She sighed as he began to massage the instep of her foot.

  “Gawd, that feels so good,” she lilted softly. She speared bacon and eggs onto the fork and held it against his lips. He took the bite without thought.

  “It’s the least I can do after keeping you awake most of the night.”

  “You can keep me up every night, Master Black. You’ll never hear a complaint from me,” she said tongue-in-cheek which culminated in a heated exchange of eyes and a bright red blush blooming over her cheeks when his smile turned carnal.

  “Remember that, my pet. Last night was nothing compared to what I’m capable of.”

  The atmosphere between them was relaxed as they eased into light banter while he continued the magical massage. Jack ignored her protest as he lifted her from the tub and dried her body with strong, firm strokes.

  “Oww!” she shrieked as his palm cracked against her buttocks.

  “Enough loafing around. The sun is drawing water. It’s time to get dressed.”

  Jordan leaned her hip against the vanity, still completely in awe of the tender treatment she’d been subjected to.

  “It’s Saturday, do we have to?”

  “Yes, miss lazybones. We’re going to lunch with a lovely young lady I have a standing monthly date with.”

  Jordan’s eyes narrowed.

  Jack’s smile broadened.

  “A date?”

  “Sheath those claws, Jordan. You’re my sub, not my wife. Don’t overstep your boundaries.”

  “Of course. We wouldn’t want to upset your lovely young—”

  “Careful, love. I might just decide to leave you at home.”

  Jordan’s lips snapped shut. There was no chance in hell she was staying behind while he went on a date!

  She dressed with care—well, of course she did! She had no idea who the lovely young lady was and Jack had gone mute when she tried to prod him for more information. She stood back and twirled around in front of the mirror.

  “Fully armored,” she chortled to herself. The white Boho style, floral, chiffon dress with elegant off-shoulder sleeves, fit her to perfection. One long shapely thigh peeked through the slit that left it bare when she walked. The matching tan sandals had a heel that wasn’t too high but gave her legs the added tension to show off her rounded calves.

  Jack didn’t say anything when she joined him at the bottom of the stairs but she didn’t miss the glimmer of appreciation in his eyes when he watched her walk toward him. He waited until they were on the freeway before he spoke.

  “You never told me where you were yesterday.”

  Jordan hesitated. It felt wrong after the closeness they’d shared earlier to continue the farce. She fisted her hands.

  “At work.”

  Jack’s glance was brief. He felt the disappointment rise inside him. He’d hoped that she’d come to trust him enough by now to be honest.

  “You have a job?”

  Jordan turned big eyes at him. “Yes, Jack. I have a job, like the majority of Americans do to make ends meet. I mean, really? Have you seen my rust bucket, Beckie, in the driveway?”

  Jack snorted. He shook his head. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you named your car.” His tone was clipped and sharp, which didn’t escape Jordan’s attention. A cold chill shaped around her heart as she once again had the feeling that Jack was on to her.

  “So, what do you do?”

  Jordan bit her lip. She had hoped he wouldn’t pry any deeper but she should’ve known better.

  “I work for an Investment Firm as a receptionist,” she lilted. At least that was the cover Gideon had created for her at one of his companies, Blue Chip Holdings, in DC Center.

  Jack’s eyes seared her from top to bottom.

  “Somehow I don’t see you as an office worker.”

  Jordan’s lips opened to defend herself but she closed them just as quickly. It would only feed his suspicions if she became too defensive. The silence that settled between them was strained, but she elected to keep quiet.

  Twenty minutes later, the big GMC truck rocked to a halt in front of an impressive three-story mansion. Jack opened the door and got out.

  “Wait here. I won’t be long.”

  Jordan fiddled with the hem of her dress as she watched him disappe
ar inside the house.

  “Great going, Jordan. Now you’ve pissed him off. He knows you’re lying to him,” she groaned out loud. “And that while he’s on the verge of a hot date … what the fuck?” Jordan’s jaw gaped open as she watched Jack and a young teenage girl appear in the doorway. She skipped next to him on the way to the truck, gazing up at him with obvious hero ship in her eyes.

  “Hi. You must be Jordan. Jack told me about you,” she said the moment she settled in the back seat. Her eyes shone with interest. “I’m Dixon Douglas.” Her nose wrinkled in response to the quirk of Jordan’s lips. “Yeah, I know, it sounds corny, but my father insisted on naming his eldest after his hometown. I guess it would’ve sounded better if I had been a boy.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I think it suits you,” Jordan said, smiling at her. The day suddenly seemed as bright and as shiny as it had when Jack had first woken her. A thought crossed her mind. “Wait a minute. Douglas? Senator Kevin Douglas? He comes from Dixon if memory serves me correctly. Is he your father?” Jordan had always been fascinated by the American Congress and politics.

  “Yep, the one and only.” Dixon scooted forward to hang onto the two front seats. “If not for that, I would never have met Jack. He was my bodyguard when Dad received threats some months ago. Well, at the time they claimed he was my long-lost uncle.” She slapped Jack’s shoulder. “I suppose that’s why I love him. He feels like family, even though he was only doing a job.”

  “Yeah, well, you kinda grew on me, squirt.” He looked at her sideways. “Anyone who had to deal with teenage tirades like I had to during those few months, deserves a medal.”

  “Pfft. You love me, and besides, imagine how boring it would’ve been if I didn’t offer some challenges at the time.”

  “Slipping out of the house to meet that scruff neck boy wasn’t a challenge, Dixon. It was reckless and dangerous.” Jack rumbled darkly as the memory of the fear that had lashed at his heart when he’d found her room empty filled his mind.

  Dixon giggled. “I’ll never forget Grant’s expression when you suddenly towered over him while he was trying to steal a kiss.”