Love and Let Die

Chapter Three

Eli Nelson looked out over the Neva River. There was a fine mist over the water this early in the morning, but then Nelson had discovered that Saint Petersburg, Russia, stayed in a damn near perpetual gloom. Oh, they tried to brighten things up with red flowers and perfect green spaces, but Russia was just dark and dank most of the time no matter how much elegance the former czars shoved onto every street.

The sun was still hidden behind the never-ending clouds. There was a phrase he’d heard once about the hope for summer in Russia. The year was nine months of optimism and expectation followed by three months of disappointment.

Fuck, he hated Russia. One day he was going to have a little mansion on his own private fucking island where the days were hot and the nights were filled with some serious pussy—and by serious he meant some dumb bitch who was less than half his age and didn’t know better.

He felt it the minute Denisovitch walked up behind him. The Hermitage was across the river, and there was already a long line of tourists waiting though it wouldn’t open for hours. The Naval Museum was at his back. He was caught in the middle of tourist hell, and that was the only way he would meet with this snake. The Russian mob might rule, but they preferred to do their dirty work in the dark.

Mikhail Denisovitch stepped up to the wall, leaning forward in his immaculate suit as though the fog and mist couldn’t touch him. Of course, he hadn’t come alone. Nelson let his eyes drift back to the little park overlooking the Neva. It was lovely, with bright red begonias and those damn white and green park benches. But they were all empty as though even the intrepid tourists knew that the two men currently occupying the gravel inlaid paths were not something to be messed with. Denisovitch never went anywhere without his enforcer, a big scarred man who didn’t really try to hide the fact that he was packing. He was an overgrown ape someone had stuffed into a suit, and he wasn’t smart enough to hide the bulge his gun made. Or perhaps that was at Mikhail’s request. Perhaps Mikhail wanted everyone around him to know that he was protected. It was a lesson Nelson was sure he’d learned from his brother.

It was a lesson Nelson had taught Mikhail Denisovitch, though the man had no idea he’d been the teacher.

Gulls squawked overhead, but Nelson ignored them. “I thought you were going to miss our appointment.”

He spoke in flawless Russian. One of the perks of long-term training with the CIA was an intense study of languages. He could screw someone over in five different languages.

Denisovitch looked out over the water. “Our traffic can be a problem at this time of the morning. I had to come in from Moscow. The plane was delayed and then we fought through traffic.”

“Yes, I was surprised you asked me to meet you here. I rather thought you stayed in Moscow.” Saint Petersburg wasn’t a hotbed of activity. It was a tourist town, a place for artists and intellectuals. The power was all in Moscow for now.

Denisovitch chuckled slightly, his eyes watching a boat as it sailed toward the Palace Bridge. The Venice of the North was awake and alive. He pointed toward the Hermitage. “There is much to do here. This is our port city. We might stay quiet here, but don’t doubt we own all that’s in sight. Do you see that building?”

It took everything Nelson had not to roll his eyes. The building was a baroque masterpiece. Anyone who understood museums knew what the Hermitage was. Three separate palaces that together housed all the treasures of Russia, some stolen from Germany after World War II. Russia understood the art of the deal. To the victor went the spoils. “It’s the Hermitage. Do you want to give me a lesson in art?”

“No, just history. It was the summer palace of the czars. I am the czar now. I summer here like Peter the Great. It is more civilized here than in Moscow. Too many fucking politicians putting their hands in my pie. It’s nice here, and I can worship in the cathedrals.”

Saint Petersburg had more than its share of orthodox cathedrals. He’d heard Denisovitch was devout. It was good to know that hypocrisy was alive and well and living in Russia. “We all need to find a home.”

“This is true. Now, I am finished with small talk. You will tell me the truth. Have you found her?”

Nelson almost sighed because this was the part of the job he so deeply enjoyed. He’d loved it when he’d been in the CIA. He loved it now. He was fucking over multiple people who believed or had believed him to be their partner. It was a little slice of heaven. “I have.”

Charlotte Denisovitch could have been his queen. He’d been grooming her. Oh, she was nothing but a woman so he’d used her like one. Her beauty was her greatest asset, but then he’d never deeply prized purity. He didn’t give a shit that Ian Taggart had her first. It had been necessary. Had she followed his plan, he would have forced his way into her bed and taken her luscious body and that devious brain for his own. He would have used her as he’d liked, but he also would have taken care of her in his own way.

She’d decided on another route, and it was going to cost her everything.

“Tell me where the little bitch is,” Denisovitch ordered.

This was why he’d come all this way when he needed to be watching that fucking idiot playboy in India. “Yes. I believe you’ll discover she’s in Dallas, Texas.”

Denisovitch tensed. “Then she’s gone to him.”

She’d gone to “him” a couple of weeks back, but Nelson had missed it. He’d been busy trying to clean up the mess that fuckwad Taggart had caused for him by blocking a shipment of arms to Africa. Those dictator warlords didn’t like a working man to take their money and give them nothing.

Thank god he wasn’t an ordinary arms dealer. Ian Taggart had no idea what he was dealing with and that was how Nelson planned on keeping it. If Taggart ever found out how deep the conspiracy went, they would all be fucked.

“She and that cunt of a sister of hers bought a place in Dallas a few days ago. I’ve had a man case it. Whatever you want to say about the bitch, she’s thorough. She’s installed a state-of-the-art security system, and she takes multiple exits when she leaves. She never follows a schedule. If you’re trying to catch her coming out of her place, you’ll need three assassins to be sure.”

Charlotte Denisovitch was a problem. She’d proven to be too clever for Nelson’s satisfaction. He’d tried to have her killed three times now, but she’d proven elusive. He’d lost three good men to her skills. He couldn’t afford to look weak. His men tended to look down on any weakness.

“I will send them all then. I wouldn’t want my dear niece to think that I’ve forgotten her.” Mikhail leaned forward, his elbows on the concrete wall that kept them from falling in. “I had the same intelligence. I sent a few to America yesterday. It’s good to know we can trust each other.”

It was good that, for once, telling the truth got him somewhere. He was more enamored of lying out his ass. “I would never give you anything less.”

Denisovitch tipped his head. “It is good to have friends. Perhaps we should help each other out again.”

Yes. Yes. Yes. This was what he’d really come all this way for. A way to get rid of all of his problems. He schooled his expression to a polite blank. “What do you mean?”

Denosivitch laughed, but it was a harsh sound. “I mean you have a problem and so do I. Our problems are very likely screwing each other as we speak. It should be easy to take them out, no?”

So easy. Now Denisovitch could deal with this shit and he could get back to his real score—India and that fuckwad royal from nowhere Loa Mali. “Taggart has been an issue for a while, but if you kill him, the rest of that team will come after you.”

Denisovitch snapped his fingers and the stoic-looking goon in a suit stepped forward, a file in his hand. “This is an issue I have already thought about. Will this do?”

Nelson took the folder and quickly flipped through it. Sean Taggart. Alexander McKay. Liam O’Donnell. Jacob Dean. Adam Miles. Eve St. James. “What about the Brit? He hired a Brit a couple of months back.”

“Do you really think he’s loyal?”

The bastard had been MI6 and given up his place to follow Taggart. Sure as fuck he would be loyal. Taggart commanded nothing if not a crazed sense of loyalty from his men. It had been that way during his Army years. Luckily the CIA discouraged loyalty to anyone but the Agency. “I think it’s safe to say he could cause trouble. Kill him, too. Accidents would be best but assassinations are fine.”

Denisovitch pointed to the picture of Eve St. James, who had recently changed her name back to McKay. “You really think the woman is a threat?”

He couldn’t let the man back out now. “Don’t underestimate the women. Didn’t your brother make that mistake?”

Denisovitch grimaced as though he’d smelled something rotten. “I told my brother not to marry that American whore. When she ran off, I told him to let the cow’s children go, but he had to punish her. All right then, I’ll kill the woman, too.”

“Grace Taggart,” Nelson said. “Don’t forget about Sean’s wife and child. It’s always best to take out the entire line. After all, your brother killed his disloyal wife only to be killed by a disloyal daughter.”

Nelson had unfinished business with Grace and Sean. Oh, he wished he could see Sean’s face when his wife and baby were gone and he realized he was next. That would be a lovely day, but he had better things to do. He would just have to imagine it.

“All right. But Charlotte is first. She will die and then her sister and then the rest will follow shortly after. I insist on this.”

If the fucker didn’t get Ian and Sean first, there would be a war on his hands. But then again, a war with the syndicate would keep Taggart occupied and allow Nelson to work freely. Not such a bad thing.

Nelson held out a hand. “I’ll leave it all to you then.”

“I will take these people down. Anyone who is involved with Charlotte and her sister will die. This I will swear when I pray today.”

The Russian started talking about vengeance and God, but Nelson stared out into the city. Off in the distance were the high spires of the Church of the Spilled Blood. Nelson stared at them.

It was fitting since he was going to make Taggart bleed.

* * * *

Ian came awake to the smell of bacon frying. And promptly wanted to vomit. Oh, he joked about vomiting a lot, but today was the real thing. His stomach rolled and rumbled and threatened to blow.

How much fucking Scotch had he gone through last night? Enough to have had the craziest dream. Charlie had come back. She’d walked right up to his house and dropped to her knees and sucked his cock in that enthusiastic, crazy-hot way of hers.

And she’d had strawberry blonde hair and new scars.

And she’d punched him in the face.

He reached up and felt his nose. Yep. No dream.

“You might as well wake up. The sooner you give in, the quicker you can move through the hangover, brother.”

Sean. This wasn’t a dream. It was a nightmare. He forced his eyes open and sure enough, his brother was sitting across from him, one leg negligently crossed over the other. The sun was streaming in through one of his bedroom windows. It must have been courtesy of Sean because he never opened those blackout drapes. He liked it dark, but the sun shone in and practically gave his younger brother a halo. “What the fuck are you doing here? Come to think of it, how did you get in?”

Everyone was getting through his security these days.

“You let me in, Ian. I showed up at the gates. You buzzed me in after making me promise I was the pizza man.”

It was worse than he thought. “I did not.”

Sean nodded, his eyes wide and an amused grin flashing on his face. “Oh, yes, you did. You got the munchies somewhere around midnight. It’s all right, man. You were very controlled and perfectly manly when you threatened to shoot me if I put anchovies on your pizza.”

His stomach rolled at the thought, but he made sure his face was perfectly clear. “All right, I’ll rephrase the question. Why are you here?”

“Because your wife said you needed me.”

He was going to kill her. He was going to wrap his hands around her pretty throat and squeeze. Except the minute he had the vision of killing his back-from-the-dead wife, she was suddenly naked and he wasn’t thinking about throttling her anymore. Maybe he could fuck her to death. That would be a better way to go.

“I was surprised to get that particular call,” Sean continued. “Since I wasn’t aware you had a wife.”

“I don’t.” He needed to get up. He needed to take a shower and get moving. He couldn’t lie around in bed. He had to figure out if Charlie was lying about Eli Nelson. She was too smart to completely fabricate a story, so he was sure there was a kernel of truth somewhere in it. It was his job to pull the truth from the bullshit, to beat her at her own game this time.

“She seemed really clear about it.” Sean leaned forward. “There’s water and ibuprofen on the bedside table. What’s with the Guns N’ Roses overload? Seriously, you listened to that song three hundred times last night. I wanted to blow my own ears off after an hour.”

He really hated her. How could she have brought Sean into this? “I like Axl Rose. Something about the hair just does it for me.”

He downed the pills. If anyone else had been sitting across from him, he wouldn’t have taken them. He would have assumed they were poison meant to horrifically liquefy his insides. Hell, he rarely drank a drink he didn’t pour himself, but he trusted Sean. Even though Sean rarely talked to him anymore. Come to think of it, this was the closest he’d been to Sean in a year.

He trusted his team—Alex and Eve and Li and Jake, and even that fucker Adam. He trusted Grace and Serena and Avery because they loved his brothers, but that was the extent of it. He hadn’t known Simon long enough, and he trusted Jesse as far as he could throw the little fucker.

Charlie was proof positive that he couldn’t trust anyone outside his circle.

“Come on, man. I’ve never seen you the way you were last night.”

He sent his brother a questioning look. “Did I behave in some way I shouldn’t have?”

Sean ran a frustrated hand through his hair and sat back. “No. You sat. You drank. You yelled at me when I tried to turn off the music. You were utterly stoic and refused to talk about anything except your pizza. Which I’m honestly surprised you managed to keep down. I had to make that crust from scratch, you know. If you’re going to force me to cook in the middle of the night, let’s talk about stocking your kitchen. I had to call Alex in with supplies. How do you survive on Fruity Pebbles and days-old Chinese food?”

He ate at the office more often than not. Grace smuggled whatever Sean had cooked the night before into the fridge at the office and everyone knew that if they took that food, Ian would murder them.

God, his life had become a pathetic circle of sleeping, eating at his desk, and forcing himself to work out. He’d been sleepwalking through life for years because of that woman. It had to stop. If her showing up on his doorstep had taught him one thing, it was that it was time to let her go.

“I need to take a sub. That’s my problem. I need someone to take care of the everyday shit and then I’ll be okay. I’ll tell Ryan I’m taking applications.” That would do it. He’d been a pussy about his own needs for years. He needed a full-time submissive who would take care of the house, deal with the inanities of life, make sure he was fed, and see to his sexual needs. In exchange, he would offer financial support and his own unique brand of discipline.

Yes, that was what he should do. Maybe he would take two subs. He had a lot of needs.

Sean’s eyes had gone wide again. “I think that would be a mistake.”

“I would think you would be thrilled. I rely on Grace far too much.”

Sean sighed a little, the same way he would when he was younger and admitting something he’d done wrong. “Grace loves you. She doesn’t mind. And I make extra. I know you think she’s risking my wrath, but I’ve always known she was feeding you. As mad as I’ve been at you, you’ve always been my brother. I won’t let you starve. God knows you didn’t let me.”

Their shared childhood sat between them. Their father had left them high and dry, and their mother had needed someone to tell her what to do. Ian had been forced to take over. He’d had to get a job and bring in money while he finished high school and made sure Sean had what he needed. There had been plenty of times during those years when there wasn’t enough food, and Ian had made sure Sean went to bed full to the detriment of his own stomach. He’d had to do it. Sean was younger. Sean had needed him. He’d known that from the moment Sean had been born. “That doesn’t matter now.”

“You have no idea how that attitude bugs me, but I’ll let it go. I’m glad you let Grace help. Kris won’t take Grace’s head off. I worry about what she’ll do if you start auditioning subs. You have a wife. They tend to get pissy about other women taking their place.”

“She’s not my wife.” He’d forgotten briefly that Sean had already met Charlie. They had worked together in Florida. “And her name isn’t Kris.”

Sean’s blue eyes rolled. “I know. Sorry. Charlotte. I wish everyone would just stick to one name. I’ve been out of the game too long to remember everyone’s fake names. My sous chef is named Hans. I don’t know his last name. I don’t need to. It’s just Hans. One name per person, please.”

His head was pounding. Hangovers sucked ass. “Good for you and Hans. I hope you’ll be very happy together.”

“Yeah, well, the point is you won’t be happy when Charlotte starts beheading the subs at Sanctum. She seems like a nice woman, but there’s a crazy bitch in there, too.”

He’d seen the crazy bitch in her from the first moment. It had been right there in those crystal blue eyes. Yeah, that was kind of why he’d loved her. Wanted her. Wanted to fuck her. That was all. “She’ll be gone soon.”

Once she realized he wouldn’t give her what she wanted, she would move on and he could forget her again.

Except he’d never managed to forget her in the first place.

“Does she know that? Because I don’t think she got the memo,” Sean said. “Look, why don’t you tell me the story from the beginning? Where did you meet her?”

He had no intention of rehashing old history. Something was wrong. It played around in his mind. He was missing something important. “She was at a club. I fucked her. She wouldn’t go away. Then she died. Story over.”

“God, you’re obnoxious. You married the woman. There has to be more.”

What the hell was he missing? “I’m not joining your pussy-whipped men’s therapy group, Sean.”

Sean shot him the finger. “It’s called a poker club, asshole, and we wouldn’t have you.”

The bacon. That was the problem. He got still, forcing himself to really listen. Someone was cooking, and it sure as hell wasn’t Sean. “Did you bring Hans with you?”

Sean waved that idea off. “Nah, that’s Alex.”

Motherfucker. He rose to his feet, his head only threatening to crack wide open. A man couldn’t simply drink himself to death quietly around here. No. His friends had to show up to watch the show. “He’s supposed to be on his honeymoon.”

Alex’s big body was suddenly in the doorway. “Eve and I canceled. This is so much more important.”

God, Alex was going to kill him. He really was going to vomit. “I don’t need anyone to hold my fucking hand.”

“Oh, no. You misunderstand. I wasn’t talking about being here for you emotionally. I know you would never let me do that. I was talking about how much fun it’s going to be to watch you deal with Kris…Charlotte. Eve and I agreed watching this shit go down is going to be way better than Hawaii.”

Now he sent his best friend his happy middle finger. “Fuck you, Alex.”

“Come on, man. You were always there for me. You have woman troubles. You can lean on me.”

“You make it sound like I’m menstruating, Alex.”

Sean nodded. “That would explain the mood swings, and so very much of my childhood.”

He sent his brother a look that should have had him running. “I don’t have mood swings. I just hate everything. See, that’s what they mean by even tempered.”

Alex just chuckled. “I think Eve would disagree, but it’s good to see last night didn’t change you. I worried your beloved would come back from the dead and you would be a changed man, all hearts and flowers.”

“She’s lucky I didn’t kill her.” He hadn’t really even thought about it. He’d had a gun in his hand. He’d had someone who betrayed him in his sights, but no, he’d just convinced her to give him a blow job and insulted her and sent her away. Maybe Alex was right. He was totally going soft. If he didn’t watch out he would be at Sean’s Thursday night “poker” club which was really just an excuse to drink imported girlie beer and discuss their feelings. They played poker so they could nominally call themselves men.

He should have shot her. Then he could be in a nice comfy jail cell far away from his meddling friends.

Alex frowned a little. “I was actually surprised she wasn’t still here. I thought you wanted to question her. I came over to make sure she wasn’t tied up somewhere.”

But if he’d tied her up, he wouldn’t have been able to leave her alone. He would have spanked that juicy ass of hers and it wouldn’t have been long before he shoved his cock up her tiny asshole.

God, he’d never fucked her ass. He’d been training her for it when she’d “died.” That’s what he should have gotten out of her. He should have gotten some nasty anal sex.

“I don’t care what she has to say.” He wasn’t going to talk about what was going through his head. Alex didn’t need to know he still had a perverse obsession with his ex’s ass.

“Ian, she’s smart,” Alex pointed out. “If she says she has a line on Nelson, we should check it out.”

“She was working for Nelson, so we can’t believe her. She’s also a criminal.”

“I don’t think she does that anymore. You didn’t see her in Florida.” Alex leaned against the doorjamb. “I think she’s been trying to redeem herself. For you.”

Getting remarried had made mush of his best friend’s brain. “She’s a liar. She fucked me for money and information, and that’s why she’s here now.”

Sean whistled. “Tell me you didn’t call her a whore.”

Ian shrugged. He tried not to lie to his brother.

“Fuck,” Sean cursed and reached into his pocket, pulling out what looked like a stack of twenties.

Alex took it with a shake of his head. “I told you.” He turned to Ian. “We had a bet on how you got the shiner.”

“Fuck you both. Get out of my house.” He stalked toward the bathroom. He needed a shower. He needed to get back on an even keel. Whatever Charlie was trying to do by contacting his brother, it didn’t matter because it wouldn’t fucking work.

“Don’t feel bad. It’s how he says I love you,” Sean explained to Alex.

Alex laughed, shaking his head. “Breakfast is ready when you can stomach it, brother.”

He slammed the door. Those two wouldn’t go away. He might be able to scare Adam into leaving. Jake would follow orders. Simon didn’t care enough to fuck with him, but Sean and Alex wouldn’t believe him even if he threatened to shoot them both.

Maybe he needed to rethink the whole “inner circle of trust” thing. It was kind of biting him in the ass now. He should be able to wallow in his misery, but no, he had to deal with this crap.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Damn, he looked like shit. He reached up and touched his left eye. It wasn’t horrible, but it had bruised. Charlie knew how to throw a punch.

He didn’t like to think about how many she’d taken. There it was again, that gnawing guilt that he wasn’t going to give into.

He turned on the shower, not bothering to let the water heat up. He didn’t fucking need any heat. Ice. He needed to remind himself that he had ice in his veins. He shrugged out of his slacks. He’d apparently passed out still wearing them.

What the fuck had that woman done to him? He’d lost control. He never lost control. He’d gotten drunk and blacked out. Even during all the years of mourning her loss, he always remembered every moment. Once a year, on the day she died, he would listen to that fucking song and drink Scotch and remind himself why he wouldn’t let another woman in. Not once had he passed out and forgotten the majority of the evening. It was dangerous. It was stupid.

She was going to kill him in the end.

He stepped into the shower, his head still pounding. The cold blasted his system, but he welcomed it. At the very least, it shriveled up his cock some. The damn thing hadn’t gone down since the moment she’d walked in.

Despite the ache in his head and his rolling gut, the minute he’d thought of Charlie, his cock had gotten hard as a rock.

It didn’t matter because she was gone, and he wouldn’t let her in again. If she showed up, he would call the cops. That little criminal mastermind wouldn’t want to see the police. Despite what Alex said, he knew damn well she was still working some sort of con. It was just who she was.

And he was a professional with a job to do. He couldn’t let Charlie get in his way.

“Coffee?” Alex held out a mug. “Holy shit. Is that cold water?”

No one left him alone. Not even when he was naked. He took the coffee, downing about half the mug before handing it back. “Yeah. It’s the only way to wake up. I’ll take that breakfast to go. You’re going to be sorry you missed your honeymoon because all that’s going to happen today is another meeting. Call and make sure everyone’s at the office. I have some intelligence to check out about Eli Nelson.”

“Oh, everyone’s at the office already. They’re in the meeting.”

Ian stared at his friend. “What meeting? I didn’t call a meeting, and you were supposed to be on a plane. Has Adam decided to start a coup, because let me tell you, I’m in the mood to put someone on their ass.”

“Uhm, your wife called a meeting. Seems she thinks she owns half of McKay-Taggart and she said since the boss was sleeping one off, she would take over for the day.”

The cold water could no longer touch him. “She wouldn’t fucking dare.”

“Oh, she dares. See, totally worth missing out on vacation,” Alex said with a grin.

Ian turned off the water. He wouldn’t bother getting clean. It was going to be a bloody kind of day.

* * * *

“Give me one good reason why I’m sitting here.” Simon Weston’s clipped British accent cut through the quiet of the conference room.

“Because I’m your boss and I told you to be here.” The best way to get through a rough sea was to plow straight ahead. Charlie had gotten through many a tough situation because she just acted like she owned the place.

She wondered if her asshole Master’s head was aching. He’d been downing Scotch like it was going out of style the night before. She knew he kind of deserved it with all the name calling and such, but she couldn’t help but wish she was there to take care of him. Sean better have done his job and taken care of his brother. They were family. It was what family did.

Or at least that was what Ian had taught her. Family didn’t give up. Family kept going even when one of them was a complete nitwit jerkwad who called his wife a whore.

Simon was staring at her as though mentally fitting her for a straightjacket. “I don’t know about that.”

Eve McKay set down her ever-present travel mug of coffee, a grin on her face. “Come on, Simon. You know why you’re here. You’re curious. Just like the rest of us.”

Adam clapped his hands and tossed his body into one of the chairs. “I’m thrilled. I think Kris is going to set Ian on his ass, and I’ve been waiting for that.”

She liked Adam, but she had to side with her Master. Despite the whole punching him in the face thing—which she would totally do again—she was trying to be a good submissive and that meant siding with her Master. It was obvious he had some difficult employees. “You should respect Ian, Adam.”

Adam frowned. “I thought you would be more fun than this.”

Eve leaned over. “Alex told me Ian has a black eye.”

Adam fist pumped. “Fuck, yeah. You go, girl.”

Serena slapped at her husband’s arm. “Be polite.”

Jake was on the other side of Serena, a mug of coffee in his hand. “He doesn’t know how. He thinks tact is a made-up word.”

Adam frowned. “Well, we all know tact just means lying about shit. How many of us cheered when we found out Kris was Ian’s long lost wife? Come on.”

Eve, Jake, and Serena raised their hands.

“Well, I was just pissed to find out she’d lied about her name.” Jesse Murdoch was sitting beside Simon, a sour look on his face.

“I was undercover.” She didn’t really like Jesse. He’d totally shot her.

“So was I but I used my real name. It’s confusing to keep changing names,” Jesse shot back.

He was a little behind the curve, but she’d sworn to be kinder to all of God’s creatures, even the slow ones. “Sorry, Jesse. It’s Charlotte. I’ll try to be more clear in the future so you know the full name of the woman you’re shooting and leaving horrific scars on.”

She was perfectly satisfied with the way he blanched.

Simon chuckled under his breath. “She’s got you there. Don’t be such a fucking idiot. I’m your damn sponsor. Don’t make me look bad.”

“I’m only here to find out what you know about Eli Nelson.” Liam O’Donnell wasn’t playing around.

God, she felt like shit when she looked at him. The only way to deal with Liam was honesty. “I know I’m the reason he had the chance to blow up the apartment you were in and send your brother running with the bearer bonds. You might not believe it, but I didn’t know what he was planning. He didn’t let me in on it.”

Liam hadn’t brought his wife with him. Charlie knew this wasn’t entertainment for him. This was serious. She’d betrayed more than just Ian. “Would it have changed a damn thing knowing what would happen?”

She hated the answer but had to be truthful. “No. Eli Nelson had my sister by then.”

“Your sister, Chelsea Dennis. She was taken from her elementary school in North Carolina by her father, Vladimir Denisovitch, and brought to Moscow. He kidnapped her right off the playground. You were older. Did he use your sister to get you to go with him? Or were you afraid because he’d murdered your mother by then?” Adam asked, proving just how smart he was.

Charlie felt her jaw drop. She thought Chelsea had buried that information. “How do you know that?”

“Is your sister the hacker?” Adam’s eyes flared as though he’d found a challenge.

Charlie nodded. “She’s the best in the world.”

Adam sat back. “Second best. Tell her she didn’t go far enough. No information is ever really lost. You just have to know which threads to follow and which lead to nowhere. I have amazing instincts. It’s not just about talent. I’d met you. I didn’t know if it was you or someone else who had covered the tracks. I made an educated guess. Can she walk? Her medical records were inconclusive.”

Charlie took a deep breath. God, he’d found out far more than she’d expected. “She has a pronounced limp.”

Adam’s voice had a gravely tone, as though he was deeply sympathetic. “From the compound fractures of both the tibia and the fibula in each leg. I can’t imagine the pain of that. She was left like that for a long period of time? I found the X-rays online. They showed a healing process. The doctors had to refracture the legs to set them. She was ten?”

The truth could only help her here. She needed these people on her side. But it was so hard to talk about. Especially with Ian’s accusations running through her head. “She was ten years old. The only reason my father took her to the hospital is that I agreed to comply with his training. My father was the head of the Denisovitch syndicate. My mother ran when she was pregnant with Chelsea. She realized she didn’t want her daughters being raised by a monster. She paid a man to smuggle the two of us out of the country. We lived in North Carolina for ten years. She thought he’d forgotten about us. He hadn’t. He killed my mother and took my sister and me back to Russia. I was a bit rebellious, to say the least. He realized that Chelsea was his best method of controlling me so he broke her legs one day. I did what he asked after that.”

“How terrible,” Serena said, her eyes tearing up.

Terrible didn’t begin to cover it. One day she’d been a happy junior high kid whose mom adored her. She’d had a future. She’d wanted to go to college. The next her mother was dead and her only future was with the Thieves-in-Law. “My father ran drugs and women, and Eli Nelson tried to make him out to be an arms dealer. Nelson used my love for my sister to get me to run an operation for him. He told me he would off my father if I would just spend a couple of weeks distracting a CIA operative for him.”

“Ian.” Eve sat forward, an encouraging look on her face. “You were trying to save your sister.”

Well, at least they were giving her more room than Ian had. “Yes. I didn’t know Ian then. My mission was to spend a little time with him. I didn’t expect to marry him. I didn’t expect to love him. He would have done the same for Sean.”

“Yes,” Jake said. “He would have. So why are you back?”

Grace brought in a tray of coffee and donuts. “The donut shop delivered. Why did you order ten lemon filled?”

“It’s Ian’s favorite.”

Jake sat back. “So you love the big guy. Damn, good luck to you.”

Grace looked down at the four dozen donuts Charlie had ordered. “Ian doesn’t eat donuts.”

Charlie waved her off. “He thinks he can’t handle carbs. He loves them, trust me. Now can we get to the point of this meeting? Is anyone interested in Eli Nelson, aka Mr. Black?”

Serena sat up, a notebook in her hand. “I am.”

Great. The novelist was interested in what she had to say. So all her hard-won data only meant something to the chick who would combine it with double penetration and lubricant in a literary extravaganza. “Look, this is serious. I want everyone except members of the team out of this conference room. This is not playtime, people. Eli Nelson isn’t a joke.”

Grace frowned her way. “Yes, I know that. I have a metal plate in my head to prove it. You’re not telling me anything we don’t already know. Except that you’re here without Ian. I know Serena. Serena is here because she’s a member of our little family. No matter what Sean says, you haven’t proven anything to me so far. So I would tread carefully or we’ll call security and have you taken out.”

Damn it. She’d lost Grace the minute she’d questioned Serena. So there was a “girl power” thing going. She didn’t need to piss them off, but she did need to make herself clear. “I’ll make my marriage license available to you.”

Simon smiled, but it was a predatory thing. “We won’t need to call security, love. I’ll escort you out myself.”

Yeah, she was sure he would escort her out in the nastiest way possible. “I’m here because I love Ian. I’ve already bled for this team.”

“Grace, she saved Alex,” Eve explained.

“She’s the reason Evans’s whole terrorist plot was brought down,” Serena added. “I was there. I might not have been right there, but I know she was helping. They wouldn’t have taken him down without her.” She turned to Charlie. “I’m only here because I’ve been spotting lately and Jake and Adam are twelve kinds of freaked out about me losing the baby. I can wait in Adam’s office if you prefer.”

Yep, she was a bitch. God, life was easier when she hadn’t cared about her conscience. “No. Please stay, Serena. I’m sorry. I’m trying to do something I’ve never done before—be professional. I want Ian to be proud of me.”

“He’s likely going to be mad pissed off at you,” Liam pointed out, but even he was studying her with something other than complete rage.

She perked up a little, thinking of just how well Ian had spanked her in the past. He had a very strict set of rules.

“Yes, I’m totally counting on that.” She sobered up. “I understand that the majority of you have zero reason to trust me. Adam, what else have you discovered about me in the last twelve hours, because I’m betting you haven’t slept a wink since Alex figured out who I am.”

Adam sat up straighter, his eyes lighting with enthusiasm. “I’ve figured it all out, honey. You’re deeply interesting. Your name is Charlotte Dennis, born Charlotte Denisovitch, though I think maybe that name change wasn’t completely legal.”

It hadn’t been, but her mother had been desperate. “Mom thought an American name would help.”

“Your father was a son of a bitch. He was a brutal, violent man, and he didn’t limit it to his business.” His eyes softened slightly. “He didn’t break you the way he did Chelsea.”

She didn’t like to think about those times now. “My torture was more mental than Chelsea’s, but I assure you I was put through his rigorous tests. My father believed his children should be strong or they should be dead. We’re lucky, Chelsea and I.”

“Is the syndicate still looking for you?” Adam asked. “Is that why you’ve had thirty-four residences in the last five years?”

Had it been so few? It felt like a hundred. “Yes. My uncle took over after my father was killed. Uncle Mikhail took Dad’s death personally. He blames me. He should. I traded my work for Eli Nelson for his assassination services. At the time, I didn’t feel like I had a choice. I could work for my father and hope he didn’t kill my sister or I could hope Nelson upheld his end of our bargain. He did, in the end, though he tried to take more than we’d originally bargained for.”

“He wanted you to continue to work for him?” Adam asked.

Jake huffed, sitting back in his chair. “Shit. He’s looking for you, too.”

Charlie shrugged a little. They weren’t telling her anything she didn’t know. “Not personally, but he’s sent plenty of assassins after me. I might have stolen a whole bunch of his money.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked her,” Eve said. “You know, besides the whole saving my husband’s life thing.”

At least she had one person on her side. “Chelsea and I have been on the run ever since. I’ve had one goal in life. I’m going to get my husband back. I’m going to make everything up to him and spend the rest of my life making him happy. I’ve done some terrible things, but I’m trying to do good now. I’m trying to make things better, and the best way I can do that is by helping you bring down Eli Nelson. Chelsea and I managed to damage him financially about a year and a half ago.”

Adam’s eyes went wide. “Shit. You’re the reason he was dealing with the Chinese. You stole his backup money.”

And just like that, she was back in the doghouse.

“Most agents keep a stash in case they get burned. Normally it’s like a hundred grand or something, but not Eli. No. He was dirty as hell and it had paid well. He also liked to make certain business investments. When I took his two million, he owed a nice chunk of it to some South American gentlemen. Yeah, he had to think fast to make that up. It’s probably why he went with the bearer bonds finally. I know he’d planned on keeping them for his retirement, but I forced him into the open. I’m sure you blame me for that, O’Donnell.”

“I got a nice girl out of it, so we can call that one even.” The Irishman was still studying her, but he’d relaxed a bit. She didn’t think he had his hand on the trigger anymore.

“Where’s this sister you’ve talked about?” Simon asked.

“I didn’t know you had a sister, Kris. I mean, Charlotte.” Jesse looked like someone had taken him shopping, possibly the Brit. He was in a suit and tie that he only looked slightly uncomfortable in. She had to admit, he cleaned up nicely.

“Yeah, again with the undercover thing,” she replied. “I thought I would come in and see if someone shot me before I brought my sister in.” That wasn’t the only reason. Chelsea didn’t get out much. She preferred to live her life in front of her monitor. “But I have the information she’s uncovered. I thought we could talk it through before Adam does his thing.”

“You know where Nelson is?” Jake asked.

“I know what he’s interested in. I can’t get a good line on him, but I have some ears to the ground. He’s been spending a lot of time in India the last couple of months.”

“India?” Simon asked. “Mumbai?”

“No, he’s been seen in Goa. Southern Goa to be exact, though the reports have him running all along the western coast of India.”

“Goa?” Adam asked. He had his laptop out, his fingers already flying across the keyboard.

“It’s the smallest state in India, but it’s right on the coast so it’s known for its tourism. Europeans flock there for holiday. I thought we could send Simon in to take a look, maybe ask a few questions. He could easily be mistaken for a tourist if someone pulled the stick out of his ass and stuffed him into some board shorts.” She ignored his huff and opened the packet she’d sat up all night making for her new crew. “If you’ll look at page three, you can see I have a list of businesses he’s frequented in the area using one of his known aliases. Unfortunately, unlike London, these seaside towns aren’t outfitted with CCTV cameras on every corner, so I’m having to rely on informants and his paper trail. You’ll see that he’s used several guide shops. I can’t tell if he’s buying products or services because he’s been using cash there. He might be on to me because my informant in the area has gone silent.”

“So he’s dead,” Jake surmised.

“Probably.”

“And you want to send me in next,” Simon said with a droll little grin. “How very flattering.”

“Well, I expect you won’t allow Nelson to catch you,” she shot back.

“What’s in Goa that Nelson would want?” Jake leaned forward, grabbing a donut.

She bit back a smile. She’d felt vulnerable. It was so stupid, childish, but she’d been hurt no one would eat the donuts she’d brought. She hadn’t poisoned them or anything. They were just chock full of sugar and artery-hardening goodness. The fact that they had been sitting there untouched had made her feel deeply unwanted.

Once Jake reached for one, Jesse grabbed a couple and the men all started eating. Even Simon sniffed around a couple before selecting a jelly.

“I’m not sure yet, but there are a couple of scientific teams in the area, one energy project, and several billionaires. He would likely be interested in the billionaires, and I’m curious about the energy project. Mostly because I can find very little on it. It’s being run by a small consortium of scientists hosted by the royalty of a small island country named Loa Mali. The island is one of the smallest countries in the world. I have no idea how it’s managed to stay sovereign, but it’s actually quite flush with cash. It’s been a country for the last two hundred years, and the same family has been at the head of government. The king’s name is Kashmir Kamdar.”

“The high-tech guru?” Adam asked around his chocolate éclair. “I’ve heard of him. He’s like a billionaire playboy.”

“Or he’s a terrorist working with Eli Nelson. I’m a little worried that Nelson is trying to get back into the arms market by selling to the factions in Kashmir, the region of India Kash is named for. His family has close ties with India. He’s a big proponent of keeping Kashmir in Indian hands.”

“And the Pakistani government wants it for its own,” Simon said, neatly summing up hundreds of years of conflict. “It’s perfect for a man like Nelson. So I get to go and get some sun and figure out if Nelson is trying to get that part of the world to go nuclear. Well, I’m going to need a per diem. If I’m going in as a tourist, I should definitely be a wealthy one.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Ian was standing in the doorframe, his big body in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. His hair was still a little wet as though he’d run from his shower to the office. He looked big and dangerous and completely sexy. He made her mouth water just looking at him.

He even looked good with a black eye. Maybe she shouldn’t have hit him so hard. Well, there was only one way to get through this and that was to be brazen.

“Hello, Ian. I brought your favorite donuts. Lemon cream. Would you like some coffee? Did Sean give you ibuprofen? I told him he should get you some.”

He simply walked in, reached down, and hauled her up. Without a word from him, he slung her over his broad shoulder and started carrying her out.

“All right, then, Adam, you know what to do,” Charlie said, trying to hold her head up. Unlike her husband, she wasn’t willing to have it out in front of his employees and friends.

“God, I wish I had a video camera. Someone make sure security doesn’t erase these tapes,” Adam said.

“Adam!” He could be so damn obnoxious. She had to keep him in line.

He straightened up immediately. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll check into it.”

A hard hand slapped at her ass, making her skin tingle. “He’s not going to check into anything except getting new locks for our fucking doors.”

“Mommy and Daddy are fighting, Jake. What should I do?” Adam asked.

From what she could see, they were all following her and Ian out of the conference room, snacks in hand.

Jake was watching the scene with an amused expression. “I think we figure out who’s scarier.”

“I’m writing this into a book,” Serena said, taking notes on a small pad of paper.

“Is the meeting over?” Grace asked. “Should I clean up?”

Charlie knew exactly what was going to happen. “He’s going to say he doesn’t want a donut, but he totally does. Save him three. He’ll eat them before lunch and then pretend he didn’t. Oh, and he likes his coffee really black, like almost espresso like.”

Grace stopped. “Seriously? I’ve been making it medium.”

“He likes really dark roast.”

Another swat hit her ass. “I hate everything.”

He was so annoying. “You can toss me out on my ass. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

He walked out the glass doors, allowing them to slam shut behind them. “Not if I kill you you won’t.”

Like that was a real threat. “Sure, Superman, slay me hard, buddy.”

He talked such a good game. He talked like he was the biggest badass to ever walk the face of the earth and, in some ways, he was. He could eviscerate a man who did evil and never think twice about it. He was perfectly capable of taking someone’s head off.

But only if they deserved it.

She’d figured him out long ago. He would take apart the bad guys—and no one else. He would have a hard time taking out a woman, even if she did deserve it. He had his code, and he stuck to it rigidly.

Ian Taggart would undoubtedly tell her it made him vomit, but he was a hero. A real live walking and talking American hero.

He was her hero. And damn, his ass looked fine in a pair of jeans. She thought seriously about cupping those strong muscles with her palms, but decided against it. She could only push him so far before he did something he would regret.

“Or I could just send you to the street, where you belong.” The elevator dinged open and he strode inside.

She took a breath, steeling herself against the close quarters. “Ian, come on.”

Ian ignored her, looking toward his crew. “You guys stay the fuck in the office or you’re fired.”

“I won’t fire anyone,” she shot back. The elevator was large and elegantly appointed and empty. She’d handled it on her way up. She could take a trip down. “Except Jesse. He nearly killed me.”

She heard a sad little sigh. “But I just got an apartment.”

“You’re not fucking fired, Jesse,” Ian said, frustration evident in his tone. “This is still my company. I wanted to fire you but now I won’t because I know she doesn’t want you here. But if you try to follow us down, I’ll kill you.”

He turned so she couldn’t see anything except the back of the elevator and how fine his ass was. She concentrated on that and not the fact that they were in a small, enclosed space. “He’s a drama queen. He’s not going to kill anyone. He’s definitely not going to kill Eli Nelson because he won’t find the fucker without me.”

A hard smack. Yes, he was definitely coming to the end of his rope.

He slapped a hand at the buttons and the door closed. He made not a single move to let her down.

“I’m not going anywhere, Ian.”

“I’ll bar you from the building.”

“That’s going to be hard since I own half of the top floor.”

A small pause. “No, you fucking don’t.”

It was time to point out a few irrefutable truths of his situation. “We didn’t have a prenup, babe. Even if we did, this is property you bought after our nuptials. Texas is a community property state. What’s yours is mine. On the happy side, I have a ten million dollar condo I’ll share with you. I even bought thousand thread count sheets. I know you have sensitive skin.”

He let her down with a little shove, placing distance between them. His hand shot out, pressing the button that caused the elevator to stop mid-descent. “What the fuck are you trying to pull, Charlie?”

She preferred it when he was carrying her like a sack of flour. At least there had been a connection then. Now she felt the space between them. And the tightness of the elevator. “I’m trying to make things right.”

“You can’t. I can’t ever trust you again.”

“Ian, I made a terrible mistake. I should have trusted you. I should have told you what was happening.” That was her real crime. She’d thought he would help her, save her, but she hadn’t risked it. From the day her father had kidnapped her until that moment when she’d taken Nelson’s drug, her life had been a careful balancing act, a constant game of not tripping over the landmines of her father’s world. Everyone in that world wanted something from her and they were all willing to hurt her to get it.

She hadn’t known there was trust and love and softness in the world until she’d met Ian Taggart.

“I would have had you taken back to the States and placed under custody,” he explained. “You did the right thing if you wanted to stay out of the rendition pool. You played me and you played me well.”

“You knew something was wrong, Ian. You knew it, but you didn’t do a damn thing about it because you were in love with me.” If she could just get him to admit it, maybe they had a chance. Her hands were starting to shake. Just a little. She could handle it.

“I was thinking with my dick. I don’t do that anymore. You cost me my job, Charlotte. How on earth do you think I would ever give you another shot? Do you want to kill me this time?”

“If I wanted to do that I wouldn’t be here.”

He leaned against the elevator wall, studying her through hooded eyes. “Or, the more likely scenario is you need intelligence for your boss and you think you can seduce me again. I’m not going to lie to you. I’m attracted to you. You’re exactly my type. Big tits, nice hips. You’re not some petite little thing I could crush. I wish it wasn’t true, but I want to fuck you hard. I want to do it here and now. You might have control over my dick, but it won’t change a damn thing. I’ll fuck you and then I’ll kick you out of this building and then I won’t give you another thought.”

She hated how much his words could torch her, but she’d figured out a long time ago that this was the price she had to pay. This terrible vulnerability was the price all women paid for loving a man. If she closed herself off, built up a wall between them, then she would never get back to that place where she’d been loved and safe and pure. God, loving him had made her pure, and she hadn’t felt that way in such a long time.

She reached out to him, letting her fingers brush the bristly skin of his jawline. He hadn’t bothered to shave. “I always think about you.”

He forced her hand away. “No, Charlie. Not like that. If you want to throw down, I’ll do you, but I won’t listen to that shit again.”

Because it wasn’t shit. Because he’d loved how she’d loved him. He couldn’t fool her. He could lie all he liked, but it was there in his eyes.

“Will you kiss me?” It would all be worth it if he would put his lips on hers again.

His head shook, a sharp rejection. “No. I don’t kiss.”

“You did.” He’d kissed her so long. He’d spent what felt like hours drugging her with kisses.

“I don’t now.”

“So you haven’t kissed anyone since me?”

Ian’s lips curled up in an evil little smile. “I’ve fucked probably a hundred women since you, darling.”

But he hadn’t kissed a single one of them. It made her heart leap. “I haven’t kissed anyone either. Not in all these years.”

His eyes went stony. “I don’t care.”

She had to find a way to make him care. “Will you just let Adam look at the data I collected?”

“I’ll find my own,” he replied.

“God, you are so stubborn.”

“It would do you well to remember that.” His phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and grimaced. “Speak of the devil. What is it, Adam?” He snarled into the receiver. “No, I am not fucking my fucking wife in the fucking goddamn elevator. I’m having a discussion with her. And she’s not my fucking wife. And tell security I’ll start the goddamn elevator when I’m good and ready. You know I can fire you, asshole, so watch it.”

He slid the phone back in his pants and jabbed the button on the elevator.

“I forgot about the claustrophobia. I’ll have you at the bottom in a minute.” He sounded almost tender, but then seemed to remember he shouldn’t do that. “When we get to the lobby, you don’t have to worry about close spaces because you never have to walk into this building again.”

The elevator slid down the shaft, and Ian turned away from her.

The doors opened, revealing a pretty young woman in a yellow skirt and a blouse that was at least a size too big for her. She wore glasses, and her dark hair was in a messy bun.

She’d been smiling, but she lost it once she looked at Ian. She looked like a deer in the headlights of a raging oncoming truck.

“Phoebe, you’re late,” Ian said in a pitch black voice.

The girl, who couldn’t be much past twenty-four, blanched. “I’ll just take the stairs, Mr. Taggart.”

She ran as fast as her kitten heels could carry her.

“That was mean. Are you having fun scaring little girls now?”

He took her by the elbow and started hauling her out. “They seem to be the only ones I can scare anymore. I’ll be shocked if she makes it up all fifteen flights. Someone’s going to have to go get her. Why do I pick up fucking strays? At least you’re one I can get rid of. Security!”

Two men immediately stepped up. They were dressed in almost military looking uniforms. “Mr. Taggart?”

He pointed a finger her way. “Don’t let this woman back in the building.”

She couldn’t allow that to happen. “I will sue the holy fuck out of everyone here. He’s my husband. I own half of the fifteenth floor.”

Ian’s jaw squared, his eyes hardening. “We’re not married.”

“Yes, we are and I have the documents to prove it.”

Ian smirked. “And I have your death certificate. It’s all framed and everything.”

She pulled out her ace. “You’re the only one who has it.”

He stopped. “You didn’t.”

“Of course I did. I wasn’t going to leave that hanging out there. I’m sure there are some files with MI6 and the Agency, but good luck getting those. I think you’ll find they’re classified.” Actually Chelsea had recently erased all the pertinent info, but she let Ian believe what he wanted to. The minute she’d known the Florida operation was going to be a success, she’d put her plan into motion. “The marriage certificate is back in place as of yesterday. According to all public records, we’ve been living together happily for almost six years now.” She smiled at the security guards. “We’re trying to have a baby. The doctors told him he has sluggish sperm. It’s made him really cranky.”

He took a step toward her, his voice going low. “Sweetheart, I am going to settle in on that bench right over there and I’ll pull up that little skirt you’re wearing, pull down your underwear, and spank you until you scream and all in front of these very nice, very vanilla people. Do you want that?”

She shook her head. “I’m not wearing any underwear, Ian. You told me I wasn’t allowed to. It’s made packing so much easier.”

He gripped her wrist and started hauling her out of the building.

He seemed to be under some kind of impression that she had dignity to protect or something. Dignity didn’t mean crap to her. She planted her feet. Unfortunately, the smooth marble surface helped her to slide right along.

“Out you go, Charlie. If I see you here again, I’ll call the cops. And you should understand my first call when I get back upstairs is going to be to my lawyer. If we’re still married, honey, we’re getting a divorce.”

“I don’t want a divorce, Ian.”

“I don’t care what you want.” He used one broad shoulder to open the glass doors, letting in a blast of pure Texas heat.

Charlie stumbled a little as her feet went from marble to concrete. Ian cursed and caught her before her ass found the ground. “Ian, please. Let’s talk about this. I can prove I’m not working for Eli Nelson.”

He made sure she was steady on her feet before moving away again. “No, you can’t.”

“There has to be something.” She wasn’t sure he would believe her if God came down and whacked him over his very masculine forehead with the truth. Her righteously paranoid husband would just decide that the heavenly father was a double agent sent to kill him. “Ian, you have to trust your instincts. Look at the data in front of you. Read what I’ve sent you. Look at it dispassionately and then form a logical conclusion. You’re the smartest man I’ve ever met.”

“Follow my instincts? I did that once. I shoved all the facts aside and followed my instincts. That’s how I lost my job and I damn near lost my life. You taught me that lesson, Charlie. Good-bye.”

He started to turn away, and Charlie felt her heart squeeze.

He stared for a moment, his eyes on the door, and then she saw it. A single glint off the metal handle.

“Get the fuck down!” Ian yelled, his body moving with predatory grace.

He hit her with the impact of a locomotive, and she found herself tackled and thrown to the ground just as the bullets started flying.