by Elle James
* * *
WHEN MUSTANG TOUCHED his tongue to that special place, Emily let out a small cry of passion and dug her heels into the mattress, lifting her bottom up. “Please,” she said.
“Please what?” Mustang asked, blowing a warm stream of air across that fevered strip of flesh.
“Please, I want more,” she moaned, letting her knees drop to the sides, opening herself to him.
He tongued her again, setting off an explosion of nerves that originated at her core and spread outward to the very tips of her extremities.
Emily weaved her hands into his hair and held on until the wave crested and ebbed. Then she pulled on his hair, urging him to give more.
Mustang climbed up the bed and settled between her legs, the tip of his shaft pressing against her entrance. There, he paused and searched the bed for the strip of condoms. When he found it, he leaned up on his knees, tore off one and ripped it open.
Emily took the condom from his hands and rolled it down over his erection, stopped at the base to fondle him. She loved how hard his shaft was in her hand and shivered at the thought of him inside her. And then it couldn’t happen soon enough. She tugged on him, guiding him to her. When he touched her there, she shifted her hands to his hips and pulled him into her.
He fit tightly, his girth stretching her deliciously.
Once he’d entered her with his full length, he pulled almost all the way out and drove in again, settling into a smooth, sensuous rhythm.
Emily pressed her feet into the comforter and lifted up, meeting every one of Mustang’s thrusts, driving him even deeper.
His body tensed. He dragged in a deep, ragged breath, thrust one last time and held himself there, filling her so completely, she tipped over the edge again and came undone.
His shaft throbbed inside her as her body shook with the force of her release.
When at last she fell back to earth, she lay limp against the mattress, drained and completely satisfied. For the moment.
Mustang dropped down and rolled both of them onto their sides, maintaining their intimate connection.
A chuckle escaped Emily’s throat.
Mustang leaned up on his elbow and frowned down at her. “I was expecting a wow, not laughter. Was it that bad?”
She cupped his cheek in her hand. “Not at all. Quite the opposite. I was just realizing how much I’ve missed all those years of studying and furthering my career. And, wow.” Emily shook her head. “Just wow. I really didn’t know it could be so good.”
Mustang brushed a kiss across her forehead. “Can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear that. You had me worried.”
“Trust me, sweetheart,” Emily said, “you have nothing to worry about. If you treat all your women that way, you’ll have no troubles finding one to warm your bed.” Her heart squeezed as she spoke the words. Mustang hadn’t said he was committing the rest of his life to be with her. Hell, they barely knew each other. At the least, she might have him for a couple more days. After they resolved her attacker issue, Mustang was under no obligation to continue their connection.
The thought of leaving Mustang behind made Emily’s chest tighten and a lead weight settle in her gut. He’d become such a part of her life in the past two days, she couldn’t imagine a future without him.
But what would keep them together?
Chapter Fifteen
Mustang lay long into the night without falling asleep. His time with Emily had taken an altogether different path than he’d ever imagined. A path he didn’t want to see come to an end. Especially such a permanent end as death.
If her attacker managed to slip by him and his team, she could be dead within a week. Heck, within the next twenty-four hours.
His fists clenched. Losing her was not an option. He’d risk his own life to save her. The woman had so much to offer the world in intelligence and kindness.
By the time the sun crept through the gaps in the blinds, Mustang was up and pacing the length of the room, trying to figure out how to capture the attacker without putting Emily up as bait.
“Hey,” a soft voice called out.
Mustang stopped halfway across the room and turned to the woman lying in the bed, her hair rumpled and her cheeks flushed with sleep. God, she was beautiful.
He wanted to go to her and make love to her all over again, but the worry eating at his gut kept him at a distance. He knew if he touched her, he wouldn’t be able to resist. And he needed a clear mind and a hell of a lot of focus to see this job through. And when it was over...when the attacker was captured and Emily was safe again, then Mustang would start over and woo this beautiful professor the proper way.
She reached out a slender arm and the comforter slipped lower, exposing a tempting breast.
Mustang swallowed a moan and turned away. “I’ll leave you to get dressed. We need to come up with a plan today.”
“Is it something I said?” she asked.
He turned back to her. “No, it’s something we have to do before this can go any further.”
She sat up, pulling the comforter over her chest, her cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink. “Having second thoughts?” She trapped her bottom lip between her teeth, a frown furrowing her brow.
“Far from it. Until we find out who is attacking you, I need to keep my focus.”
Her frown smoothed and a smile curled the corners of her lips. “And I make you lose focus?” She chuckled. “I suppose that’s a compliment.”
“Damn right, it’s a compliment.” He stood in the middle of the room, staring at her, wishing the circumstances were different. “Please,” he said. “Just get dressed. I’ll be in the other room.” He marched out of her bedroom, refusing to look back.
Her soft laughter followed him.
He could hear her moving around, opening the bathroom door, the sound of water running and the tap of a toothbrush against the porcelain sink.
He was so aware of her, he could imagine everything she was doing.
Finally she appeared in the door frame of the adjoining room, buttoning the front of a soft pink blouse she wore with a pair of gray trousers. “Just so you know,” she said, “you make me lose focus, too. But I don’t necessarily consider it a bad thing.”
“It would be bad in my case if my loss of focus left you vulnerable to attack.” He nodded at her bare feet. “I’d wear something comfortable.”
One side of her mouth lifted in a sardonic grin. “In case I have to run?”
He nodded. “Precisely.”
She disappeared into her room and came back wearing a pair of black-leather flats and carrying her cell phone. “Will these do?”
He nodded. “Let’s get downstairs and see if Cole’s made any progress on locating the hotel where Phillips snapped that photo.” He strode to the bedroom door, pulled the chair away and yanked it open. He stood back as Emily passed so close he could smell the scent of her shampoo.
She leaned closer. “Your focus is slipping.” Emily’s grin spread across her face as she walked ahead of him to the top of the staircase.
He hurried past her to take the lead, descending to the main level.
He followed the voices emanating from the dining room.
Declan gave him a chin lift as he entered. “Oh, good, we were just about to come get you.”
“What have you found?” Mustang held a chair for Emily and waited for her to be seated before claiming the chair beside her.
Charlie, Grace, Jonah and Cole sat at the table with half-eaten plates of food in front of them.
“Jonah and Cole were able to hack into Phillips’s tablet and retrieve the digital images. We found the one you were talking about that showed Blunt and the ambassador’s daughter with Viktor Sokolov in the alley in the background.”
Mustang paused in the middle of scooping scrambled eggs onto his
plate. “And?”
“We think we know where they were,” Cole said.
“The Trinity Hotel.” Jonah jabbed his fork at a piece of chicken. “It’s located in Alexandria.”
Emily pushed back her chair. “Well, let’s go check it out.”
Mustang grabbed her arm and urged her to take her seat. “Not without a plan. And I’m not so sure you need to go. Declan and the others can check it out. You and I can stay put until they return with whatever they find out.”
Emily scowled. “I’m not good at sitting around doing nothing.”
“Then you can work with Jonah as he hacks into the embassy database,” Charlie said.
Jonah nodded. “I understand you understand Russian. All the information in that database might as well be Greek to me.”
Emily seemed to consider the prospect. “You’ll let us know what you find, as soon as you find anything?”
Declan held up his hand as if swearing before a judge. “Promise.”
“Okay.” Emily settled back in her seat. “I’ll stay and translate.” But she didn’t look all that happy about being left behind.
Mustang was more than relieved. He could keep a closer watch on her if she stayed inside the house. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep her housebound for long. The woman had a life and she’d refuse to be held captive for any length of time.
Grace reached over and covered Emily’s hand. “The guys are only trying to keep you safe.”
Emily sighed. “I know. I’m not used to being the target of some nut job. If I knew who it was, I’d confront him.”
“No, we’d send the police after him,” Charlie said. “Whoever these people are, they are playing for keeps. You’re not trained in warfare. That’s why we have Declan’s Defenders. They’ll help keep you safe, if you let them.”
Mustang wanted to cheer Charlie for her comments, but he kept quiet, letting her words sink in with Emily.
“You’re right,” she said. “And I’m grateful for all you’ve done for me. I wouldn’t be alive today without their help.” She slipped her hand beneath the table and captured Mustang’s, giving it a squeeze.
After a quick breakfast, Declan and Cole left the estate, destined for the Trinity Hotel in Alexandria.
Emily and Mustang helped carry dishes into the kitchen where the chef and his staff made quick work of cleaning up.
Jonah led them to the computer room where he had an array of six monitors lined up in front of a single keyboard. He tapped on the keys and brought up a screen filled with files all labeled in Russian.
For the next two hours Emily translated file names and searched through data on the Russian embassy’s database. For all the work, they came up with nothing substantial. Names of people, biographies of individuals, schedules of visiting diplomats and records of Russian ships entering American ports all over the US, including some in the DC, Maryland and Virginia area. Nothing jumped out at them as being something that could help them determine who was after her and Jay Phillips or why.
Emily pinched the bridge of her nose and stood. “I need something for a headache.”
“Let’s take a break.” Mustang walked with her to the kitchen where the chef offered them a cup of coffee or hot tea.
“I’d like the tea,” Emily said.
“I could use some coffee.”
They collected their steaming cups and sat at the solid-oak kitchen table. No sooner had they taken their seats than Emily’s cell phone buzzed with an incoming text message.
She glanced down, a frown forming on her brow. “It’s from Sachi Kozlov.”
Mustang leaned over her shoulder and read the message.
Found Tyler’s journal. You need to see this. Meet me at DC’s Eastern Flea Market at 2:00 pm. I’ll be at the Crepes food truck wearing a gold scarf.
Emily checked the time on her cell phone. “That gives us an hour to get there and find her.”
“Us?” Mustang shook his head. “I don’t feel good about you being out and about. What if this is a setup? We just did a meeting that didn’t end well. Call her back. Ask what’s up.”
“I’m not calling her back. If she wants to meet, it could be because talking on the phone is difficult. People might be nearby she doesn’t want eavesdropping. I won’t do anything that might put her at risk.”
“I don’t like doing anything that puts you at risk,” he countered.
“I can go in a disguise,” Emily said. “I’m going. You can come with me or not.” She responded to Sachi’s text.
I will be there.
Mustang already knew he wasn’t going to talk Emily out of going. “Fine. But we will have to make your disguise good enough to fool the best. Where’s Grace?” He stood and held her chair for her.
She rose and hurried through the house. “Grace? Charlie? I need your help.”
Meanwhile, Mustang was on his cell phone clicking on his team lead’s number. “Declan, I need your help.”
* * *
AT PRECISELY 1:58 P.M. Emily, dressed in baggy jeans and a hooded sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over her hair, stood twenty yards from the Crepes food truck at DC’s Flea Market at Eastern Market, searching for a woman in a gold scarf. “I don’t see her,” she said to Mustang, who stood beside her, wearing a similar outfit, his hands in his jacket pocket, resting on his handgun.
“It’s not quite two. Give her a minute,” he said softly.
From around the other side of the rendezvous truck, a woman emerged, dressed in a gray trench coat and a gold scarf.
Emily’s heart beat fast. “There she is.” She stepped forward but Mustang’s hand held her back.
“Wait a moment in case she was followed.” He scanned the area, searching for anyone watching Sachi and her movements.
Emily kept her head down to disguise the fact she wasn’t the teenaged boy she was dressed as. She’d scrubbed her face, pulled back her hair and tucked it into the hoodie she’d brought for her disguise. She’d had Grace and Charlie give her thicker eyebrows. Charlie had invested in costume makeup on the off chance Declan’s Defenders needed to disguise themselves. She’d been excited that they would actually put the makeup to use for a good cause...keeping Emily safe. Charlie had also found the hooded sweatshirt and helped Emily into it. Then Charlie had hugged her. “Don’t lose the hoodie. It will help us find you.”
They’d left the estate in the back of a delivery van and caught a taxi once they’d arrived in the DC city limits. They had the taxi drop them off several blocks from the flea market and walked the rest of the way like two guys just hanging out.
“Well?” Emily asked. “Is it safe?”
“I can only hope so. I don’t see any suspicious characters.”
Sachi had settled into a seat at one of the bistro tables with her back to a shade tree, her face and body cloaked in the shadows.
“We’ll order a crepe before we engage with Sachi. Stay close to me,” Mustang ordered.
“No argument here,” Emily said in her gruffest guy-voice.
They walked over to the crepe truck. Mustang ordered a crepe with strawberries.
Emily stood beside him, watching Sachi out of the corner of her eye.
The woman pulled her scarf over the lower half of her face, but her ice-blue eyes were unforgettable and gave her away.
“I’m going to join her,” Emily said.
“Wait for me. It will look more natural if we both sit together. The other tables are filling up.”
Emily saw reason and waited for the man in the food truck to finish making the strawberry crepe. Then she and Mustang looked around as if searching for an empty table and not finding it. Sachi’s table was the only one with a single occupant.
Mustang carried his plate with the strawberry crepe and stopped in front of Sachi. “Mind if we share your table?”
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The Russian ambassador’s daughter started to shake her head. “I’m sorry, but I’m waiting for someone.”
Emily looked down at Sachi, willing her to recognize her despite the disguise. Finally she whispered. “It’s me, Emily.”
Sachi’s gaze darted to Emily’s eyes. Her own narrowed. Then she glanced around nervously and nodded, her gaze lighting on Mustang, whom she seemed to remember from the classroom visit. She relaxed a little. “Please, take a seat.” She shifted her chair to make room for them.
“I’ll eat, you two talk.” Mustang cut off a piece of the crepe and popped it into his mouth.
Sachi glanced down at the purse in her lap. “This was one of the places Tyler and I would meet when I could escape my bodyguards. It’s easy to blend into the crowd, as long as I change the color of my scarf. The trick was to wear something unmemorable besides the scarf.” Her hand fluttered to the gold cloth. “But that is not the reason I asked you to come.” She shifted in her seat and unzipped her oversize purse. “I found these in the safe deposit box Tyler and I share at a local bank. They’re the journals he kept when he was doing an investigation.”
“Did you find anything about you or the Russian embassy in it?” Emily asked softly, barely moving her lips lest someone see her talking to the stranger.
Sachi nodded, almost imperceptibly. “He was following a story about human trafficking in the DC area. He wrote that he suspected someone in the Russian embassy was responsible for transporting women out of the US.” She pulled a small leather-bound journal out of her voluminous bag and pushed it across the table. “I bent the page where Tyler noted that he suspected one of the higher-ranking embassy staff was involved. He’d seen the man outside a hotel with a very young woman who’d appeared to stagger and drag her feet, maybe drugged.
“He’d gone back to that hotel and asked questions of the staff, most of whom knew nothing about any potential human trafficking going on beneath their roof. But some of them were less talkative and more guarded. Tyler had planned a stakeout to capture more evidence on video. He’d even given up a chance to be with me in order to gather the evidence he needed to turn the mastermind behind the human trafficking in to the authorities.