Reid: Wild Mustang Security Firm

by Delta James

  “Your account has been closed and classified,” Markoff told him when he glanced up. “We’ve added five years severance pay on top of it and free medical care for the rest of your life. You will, of course, not be able to keep a penny of what Fariq has paid you over the years.”

  “That’s fine,” Christian said, knowing there was no way they knew about the bulk of that money that he had squirreled away in a dozen hidden accounts. “Not a problem. I don’t want it.”

  “Wait a minute,” Aliya said from beside him. She made no move to open the envelope he’d given her. “I don’t know that I actually ever worked for you, either. I was given the impression what I did was more of a volunteer kind of thing… for the greater good, as they say.”

  “Your envelope,” Markoff stated, “contains the details concerning the inheritance your brother ensured we wouldn’t be able to touch should something happen to him. Most of it seems to have been passed down from your father if that makes a difference.”

  “I don’t want it.” She immediately dropped it on the table, but just as quickly, Reid picked it up. “I don’t want it,” she repeated as he opened the envelope and poured out the contents.

  There were two bank forms, legal contacts in Rome as well as Switzerland, and another NDA from the government, although under an independent contracting company name to prevent anything from leading back to NATO should she go back on her word somewhere later down the road. Her check had four more zeros than his did. She’d been given houses in Morocco, Scotland, and Finland. She owned an 8-acre island in Fiji, a 169-acre island off the coast of Greece, and was the reigning stockholding in eleven major worldwide companies, including JP Morgan Chase. She was also a founding member in the world’s leading investment company, BlackRock, a position she wasn’t able to inherit and was even now being cashed out.

  The man had been a crook, a thief, a terrorist, and nothing short of a wizard when it came to money.

  He didn’t need to worry about Aliya. Financially, she was going to be just fine.

  The look she gave him said she realized it, too.

  Grabbing the wheels of her chair, she jerked back away from the table and would have pushed herself out the door if he hadn’t grabbed her wrist.

  “She’s going to need a permanent visa,” he told the general.

  Closing his briefcase, the general shook his head. “I am under orders to strongly encourage you to find somewhere else to live. I am also under orders to tell you this is a package deal. You all accept, or you all get put away, and I promise my half-chewed ass and I will find the worst prisons on the planet to put you in. I’ll give you a few minutes to decide.”

  He left, closing the door behind him, although not for a second did Reid believe no one could hear them.

  “We all either accept the deal or we all ‘get put away’?” Brody asked, the first to speak up. “What’s to stop them from doing that after we accept the deal?”

  “We stick together,” Cobb said.

  “What, for the rest of our lives?” another asked, then groaned. “Because I’ll tell you, I’ve been stuck in a cell with Alex for only two days now, and I’m already plotting how best to kill him. The man snores like a chainsaw.”

  “You think it’ll be any quieter in prison?” someone—possibly Alex—shot back.

  “If we separate, we won’t notice if some of us start disappearing until it’s too late,” Cobb interrupted. “Plus, I hate to say it, but the U.S. government is the least of our worries. I don’t know what the rest of you have done, but one of my last jobs was the bombing of an African warlord at the request of another, who Fariq then betrayed to the U.N. So, whoever throws the dart, just stay clear of Africa.”

  “Mexico, too,” another said.

  “And pretty much the entire Middle East,” a third added.

  “Suits me fine. I’m tired of heat and sand. I want to go skiing. Hey, we should do that!” Brody said with enthusiasm.

  “Go skiing?” Cobb asked, arching his eyebrow.

  “No, well… yes, but I mean, we could pool our money, open up a ski lodge in the middle of nowhere in Switzerland, maybe the Matterhorn. Somewhere we haven’t pissed off the ruling entities,” Brody continued. “Hell, we could even gear it toward people in the lifestyle.”

  “Yeah. Half the year, we could run a nice, quiet, relaxing, off-season resort that caters to those so inclined. We could build a helluva dungeon with this kind of money. And on top of that, people could spend their time fishing, camping, and hiking,” Alex continued, warming to the idea.

  “God knows, we’d be able to keep people safe, maybe even become the local experts in search and rescue for lost hikers,” one of the others said.

  “And the other half,” Alex said, “we can make our money work for us by operating a first-class ski resort, catering to those with our mutual bent. We can have the best subs and pretty little ski bunnies bouncing on our balls.”

  “We could vet Doms and subs and make it a safe place for folks to play.”

  The men exchanged glances and included Reid in their non-verbal agreement to band together.

  “You had me at quiet and relaxing,” Cobb finally said.

  “You had me at fishing,” the second laughed.

  “What part of bouncing ski bunnies and subs did you guys not understand?” Alex asked.

  Reid grinned as the others rolled their eyes and gave their companion a look. He turned to Aliya, sitting quietly in her chair.

  “What do you think, Princess? Want to wear my ring and my collar, play dress up in the snow, and do some bouncing?” He waggled his eyebrows, hoping to get her to smile, but she barely looked at him.

  “You’re inviting me along?” she asked, averting her eyes. She was still a horrible liar. He saw right through her uncertain frown to the insecurities she was trying to hide.

  Turning to face her again, he caught her chin, forcing her to look at him.

  “What part of ring and collar do you not get, Princess? If you don’t want to throw in with the guys, that’s fine. We can go anywhere in the world you want, so long as you understand I’m going to be right there with you. I told you, you belong to me… in the same way, I belong to you. I’m willing to give being a part-owner of a resort a try, but I’d be just as happy tending bar with you in Scotland, farming tulips with you in Holland, or counting koalas with you or whatever they do in Australia. The point is, unless you safeword out of this relationship and tell me you’ve lost interest in being with me, then the keyword in this entire discussion is ‘with you.’ You need to get it through that beautiful, stubborn, temperamental head of yours that unless you opt-out in no uncertain terms, I intend to be with you.”

  “What if I prefer to be alone?” she asked, her fear of his answer evident in the tightness of her body.

  Reid took a deep breath and shook his head slowly.

  “Then I’ll very gently take you out of that wheelchair, put you over my knee, and blister your backside.”

  The reaction of the men in the room was split between stifled laughter and quiet groaning.

  “Granted,” Reid continued, “it won’t have as much impact as if your bottom was bare, but I’m fairly sure I can put enough sting in your tail to make you settle down and behave.”

  “And if not,” Cobb offered, “we can give you the room to do what you need.”

  Aliya looked into the faces of each of the other men and knew she would have absolutely no support from any of them.

  “Why?” she whispered. “He tortured you because of me.”

  Reid pulled her gently from the wheelchair into his lap.

  “He tortured me because he was a monster. And sick with sepsis, beaten to within an inch of your life, dehydrated and starved, you picked up a weapon you’d never used, and ended his miserable, misbegotten life, and saved me. Do you get that, Princess? You. Saved. Me. If you’re still able to see me as your knight in shining armor, you need to know, I see you as my warrior princess. Xena’s
got nothing on you,” he said quietly.

  “I don’t think Ares ever spanked Xena’s ass.” Aliya giggled as she relaxed into his body, tucking her head under his chin and snuggling against him.

  “Thus, the reason she was forever riding around doing stupid things. You should know, Princess… I’m smarter than Ares and know how to handle a brat.”

  “I thought I was a princess.”

  “Yes, a princess brat. So, Switzerland or…”

  Once again, she looked at the faces of the men gathered around the table.

  “We can have a four-poster bed?” she asked, blushing profusely.

  “Oh, Princess, we’ll have a four-poster bed, and as Alex said, we’ll create one of the best dungeons in Europe. After all, every princess has to have a dungeon…”

  Aliya smiled up at him, her face telling him everything.

  “More,” she stated simply and definitively.

  Reid nodded, knowing somehow, inexplicably, he had found his way to an improbable home with the woman cuddled in his lap.

  Epilogue

  Present Day

  L’Amore Sofferente Hotel

  Base of the Matterhorn, Switzerland

  “You’d best behave while they’re here,” he said, reluctantly uncoupling from her.

  “Or what?” she teased as she moved off their bed.

  Christian stepped off behind her, swatting her rounded backside.

  “Or else I’ll remind you in no uncertain terms, you aren’t yet too far along to get your backside paddled,” he rejoined. “I’m serious, Aliya, I catch you plotting with Zara or Avery, and you won’t sit for the rest of the time they’re here.”

  “Oh, fie! You are so serious.”

  She turned back to him and wrapped her arms around him, rubbing herself against him as she pulled his head down and kissed him deeply.

  “Kiss me all you want, Princess, but I’m not putting up with the same level of crap I did the last time the lot of you got together.”

  “Christian, you have to let that go. It was a joke. It was funny, and it was deserved.”

  “It was not,” he growled. “I didn’t order the hit on Zara. Fariq did that using my name, and when I found out, I tried to get it canceled and alerted both Scotland Yard and the Home Office.”

  “And if Zara hadn’t made Noah laugh, I’m not sure his way of getting even might not have been far more painful.”

  “What do you call that punch to the gut he gave me?”

  Aliya shrugged. “As Zara pointed out… he didn’t put you in the intensive care unit. And honestly, is it any less than you might have done had the situation been reversed?”

  “Point taken,” he reluctantly agreed.

  She kissed him lightly and hissed when he tweaked her nipple.

  “Behave yourself, Princess.”

  “Yes, Sir. Why don’t you take a shower, and I’ll go downstairs?”

  Christian scooped her up in his arms.

  “I have a better idea. How about you take a shower with me?”

  Thirty minutes later, they left the private elevator that traveled only to and from the top level of the ski resort, which housed the seven owner suites, Christian and Aliya and the six mercenaries who had thrown in with him that fateful day—Cobb, Brody, Alex, Nate, Jake, and Liam.

  “Mr. Reid,” Siggy, the prissy manager of the resort, greeted him.

  Realizing they were gambling an inordinate amount of money on a venture they knew little about, the CenterPoint Group had conducted an extensive search for an experienced, exclusive ski resort manager. It had taken a lot of talking and even more money to convince Sigmar Von Stauffenberg to sign on.

  “Siggy, what’s up?” he responded, knowing full well the dapper and proper German hated the nickname the group had bestowed on him.

  “Your guests have arrived… as has some of the equipment for the,”—he blinked, drawing in a deep breath, the only sign he showed of his dismay—“the lower level.”

  He couldn’t even bring himself to call it what it was—a BDSM play dungeon. Christian grinned.

  Von Stauffenberg straightened his jacket, regaining his composure. “I really must insist one of you deal with the workmen down there. I don’t even know what most of it is.”

  “Siggy, my friend,”—Christian clapped the little man on the shoulder—“you have no idea what you’re missing…”

  Reid, Aliya, and the rest of the CenterPoint Group will be back this Spring…

  From the start, Sigmar Von Stauffenberg had reservations about this job, managing the L’Amore Sofferente, “Love Hurts,” Hotel for seven of the most aggravating men he’s ever met. They are brash, uncouth, at least one rumored to have topped Interpol’s Most Wanted list, and they’ve put a BDSM dungeon—a dungeon, for God’s sake—in the basement of his beautiful ski resort. Still, the pay is decent, he has free rein to run things to the utmost perfection, and Sigmar is nothing if not good at his job.

  Then comes opening night and the worst snowstorm in living memory. All travel is suspended, and attendance on their most lucrative night is dead. His employers are very disappointed, but his resort looks fantastic. That is until Melina Birchmeier appears—without reservations—at his door. She is beautiful, lost, not at all dressed to survive a blizzard, and never has Sigmar been so drawn to anyone this incapable of telling him the truth. He begins to suspect there might be a reason when suddenly the power goes out. Now gunmen are taking over his lobby, his employers are arming for war, Melina is running for her life, and his hotel is being shot all to hell.

  Well, life in the service industry has never been easy, and everyone comes with a past. Sigmar’s is about to teach them all a valuable lesson—never mess with a man’s hotel.

  Or his Melina.

  Thank you for reading Reid! We hope you loved it.

  While you are waiting for the start of the next series why not check out Always Daddy’s Girl another book in the Wild Mustang Security Firm series.

  Turn the page to read the first chapter from Always Daddy’s Girl.

  Always Daddy's Girl: Chapter One

  Avery shook herself, every muscle tense and ready to move. In less than a minute, the gate would be thrown open and nearly a ton of raging bull would come barreling out of the chute, a cowboy in the middle of its back just trying to stay on long enough to score points for an eight-second ride. As soon as that ride was over, it was Avery who would keep the bull distracted, taunting the beast until it charged her instead of the rider. Avery was one of only a handful of female bullfighters, or rodeo clowns, as they were called. As far as this rodeo was concerned, however, no one knew her character, Casey the Clown, was a girl.

  Her entire world closed down to the space between the gate and her. The noise from the crowd, the smell of the animals, and the taste of dirt all receded so that only she, the cowboy, and the bull existed. There were other bullfighters in the arena, but none of them mattered. Her heart pounded. Excitement sang through her veins as she readied herself to distract more than seventeen hundred pounds of thundering hooves and goring horns long enough for that idiot on his back to scramble for safety.

  But first, they had to get through the ride.

  The gate swung open and Cowboy Crusher exploded from the chute. He jumped, landing on his front feet, twisting his enormous black body as he kicked his heels almost over his head; poor Dempsey never had a chance. Less than two seconds into his ride, he went flying.

  Show time.

  Sounding her clown horn, Avery whipped off her large, droopy hat and waved it over her head. She wore large jeans held up by red suspenders tucked into specially made red boots with running soles on them, and God knows she put those boots to good use. Her red-striped shirt was five sizes too big. Between the oversized clothes, binding her breasts, and Casey the Clown’s well-known shtick of never speaking, she’d managed to keep the fact that she was a female a secret from everyone here. It was her knowledge of bulls, her fast reflexes, and her acrobatics
in the ring that made her a hell of a clown.

  Normally, the noisy horn was enough to attract the angry bull’s attention. Combined with the flapping of her floppy hat and her almost gymnastic jumps and gyrations, most of the animals she dealt with became far more interested in chasing her. From the moment Dempsey went flying, however, Crusher became fixed on destroying the irritant that had been on his back. Winded, Dempsey was just rolling from his back to his knees, but Crusher was faster and the bull meant to get him.

  Bolting left, Avery ran, flapping her hat and honking her horn in an attempt to catch the periphery of the bull’s attention just as it was turning for a charge. Dempsey was scrambling for the nearest fence, but Crusher was too close. He’d never make it.

  “Hey, big boy!” she hollered. “Come to Mama!”

  She would never be sure if the bull registered the fact that she was a female, but she realized the other bullfighters and everyone within hearing distance sure as hell had.

  Swinging his heavy head to lock her in his angry sights, Cowboy Crusher lowered his horns and pawed the ground.

  “Come on, you overgrown mutant piece of steak, why not take on someone with more brains than a rodeo rider!”

  She vaguely heard the crowd’s laughter, but Avery was far too focused on the enraged creature as it promptly bellowed back and charged. There was no feeling quite like this one, the cold tremble—part fear, part excitement—that slithered in through her gut as she held her ground, watching as that massive animal bored down on her. It could kill her easily, and yet she didn’t run. She waited instead, her body locking into readiness until the very last second when she charged the bull in turn. Grabbing the poll of Crusher’s head, her hand smacked flat between his horns as she vaulted up and over him in the signature flip that had made Casey the Clown so well known. Leaping over the beast, she smacked him on the rump with her hat and sprinted for the relative safety of the arena walls.