Dark Obsessions - Volume I: Four Intense Capture Fantasies in One Sizzling Collection

by Claire Thompson

  Khalil smiled. “I am glad to see you share my philosophy regarding a woman’s role.” He turned to Devin. “And you, Mr. Lyons. How refreshing to find a Westerner who is not judgmental about ancient cultures, and can appreciate that our ways have worked well for us over thousands of years.”

  Devin nodded and tried to smile, not trusting himself to speak. Khalil turned back to Amir. “Alas, my dear friend, I am content here. I have made this my home. I am sure you appreciate that I hadn’t considered selling. I extended the courtesy of a visit out of respect to a fellow Arab, but I’m quite happy here, sir. Quite happy, indeed.”

  Amir had told Devin that sources indicted Khalil had in fact been putting out initial feelers for a new location. He never stayed anywhere for more than a few years at a time, no doubt to keep one step ahead of the law with his slave trafficking operations. But Amir only said, “Quite. I do understand. You are a man of refinement—someone who appreciates beauty in all its forms.”

  Khalil nodded in a smug, self-congratulatory way that made Devin’s knuckles actually itch as he fantasized landing a solid right on that handsome, square jaw. “Nevertheless,” Amir went on smoothly, playing his part to the hilt. “I sense you are also a man of business. A man who doesn’t hesitate to seize an opportunity when it is presented.”

  He paused and spread his hands, palms upward, in Khalil’s direction. “I am prepared to offer twice the market value. My agent, Mr. Lyons has drawn up a contract. We’ll leave it for your review, along with the money in that briefcase as a gesture of my good faith.” He nodded toward the case, which sat at Devin’s feet.

  Khalil said nothing. He lifted his tiny coffee cup and took a sip. Amir, too, lifted his cup. He glanced at Devin, giving him a nearly imperceptible nod.

  Devin took his cue, as they’d planned the night before, and stood. “If you would be so kind, may I use the facilities?”

  “Of course. Just through that door.” Khalil gestured toward a small door on the side of the room. Devin stepped through it into a bathroom, pulling the door shut behind him.

  He could hear the two men murmuring on the other side of the door, and knew they were speaking in Arabic. Amir was now moving in for the kill, trying to get the guy to spill the beans. His plan was to insinuate that he himself was in the market for a slave girl or two, and, as a fellow Arab, would appreciate any light Khalil might be able to shed on the process.

  Devin stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, surprised that he appeared calm, though his heart was jumping and his intestines were twisted into knots. Leah might be close by, chained in some dungeon, or locked in some harem with a dozen other women. He refused to entertain the possibility that she wasn’t here. His desire—his need—to find her, to rescue her, outweighed any possibility of failure.

  He lingered as long as he dared in the bathroom to give Amir enough time, before finally opening the door and returning to the room.

  Amir turned to him, saying the words that let Devin know he’d fooled the man into believing he was in the market for human flesh. “Mr. Lyons, if you will forgive us, my dear friend and I have something private to discuss. I’m sure you understand.” He gave an imperious wave of his hand. “You may wait in the car until I have further need of your services.”

  “I’ll have an escort show you to the door,” Khalil added.

  You wouldn’t want me stumbling on the slave quarters, now would you? Having no choice, Devin allowed one of the men who had frisked him to lead him back through the house and to the front door. Outside, the policeman posing as their chauffeur was leaning against the car drinking a bottle of orange soda. As Devin approached, he straightened up smartly and opened the back door for Devin. Devin slipped into the backseat.

  The man slid into his seat in the front, pulling the door closed behind him. Without turning around, he said, “He’s in?”

  “Yes,” Devin replied.

  They sat in silence, waiting. Devin closed his eyes and counted slowly to one hundred. Then he did it again. When he was on eighty-six, he heard a beeping sound from the front seat. Amir’s mobile phone had a GPS tracking device on it. He was to give a signal when he was in the quarters where the abducted women were being held.

  The driver pulled a mobile phone from his breast pocket and punched in a series of numbers. “Ten minutes,” he said.

  They were the longest ten minutes Devin ever experienced. Amir and that motherfucking bastard Khalil might at that very moment be in a room with his beloved Leah, and he was sitting here like a jerk in the back of this car.

  Finally he heard the droning sound of approaching helicopters. Within seconds they had landed on the perfectly manicured lawns on either side of the circular drive, the whirring blades slashing the air. The doors opened and a half a dozen men dressed in black uniforms, guns in hand, came swarming from each ‘copter.

  Though Devin had been told to stay put, he found himself opening the door and tumbling from the car. There was no way he could sit idly by while the rescue was going down. The men moved quickly. About half of them battered their way into the main house, while the rest took off to other parts of the compound, weapons at the ready.

  Devin ran behind the uniformed men through the door of the main house. The man in front of him turned, barking something sharply in Thai as he pointed his weapon at Devin. Devin froze.

  The commander, a man who had been at the meetings at headquarters when Devin was being briefed for his part in the sting, turned back and said something in Thai to the man, who lowered his weapon. To Devin, he said, “I told him you’re cleared. But make sure you stay behind the men. Don’t do anything stupid. There are lives at stake.”

  Devin nodded. The commander was holding a tracking device that presumably would lead them to Amir and the women. “This way!” he shouted, sprinting toward the stairs. The men thundered up the stairs and ran along a labyrinth of hallways to another set of stairs. Devin was right behind them, spurred on by adrenaline.

  They burst into a room, halting just inside the door. The commander called out in Thai, Arabic and finally English, “Po-lice! Freeze!” as he aimed his weapon at Khalil and Amir. Khalil stared open-mouth at the men and then stood, slowly lifting his hands above his head. His eyes slid toward Amir, shock, realization and then fury moving over his face in quick succession.

  He had been sitting in a large, throne-like chair, Amir standing beside him. In front of them a young woman was kneeling with her head on the floor, her back toward the door, arms stretched along the floor in front of her head.

  “Leah!” Devin cried, before he could stop himself. The girl rose with a cry, and Devin saw it was not Leah at all, but a smaller, slighter woman with long, dark hair. She was clearly naked beneath gauzy veils that were artfully draped over her body. There were thick gold bracelets around her wrists and ankles, and a thin gold collar around her neck.

  While the police entered the room and swarmed over Khalil, cuffing his hands behind his back, the girl locked eyes with Devin and whispered, “Leah.” She pointed toward a small door at the back of the room.

  Aware he was going to get into all kinds of trouble with Amir and Interpol, Devin pushed his way past the hubbub and reached the door. He slid back the bolt and turned the knob. Opening the door, he slipped inside, his heart beating high in his throat.

  ~*~

  Leah tossed in the bed, unable to get comfortable. She felt weak and spent, literally beaten down by the horrific events of the past few days. How much longer could she go on like this? Would she come to accept and even embrace her lot, as Naeemah seemed to? Or, more likely, would she just lose her mind and become a zombie, going through the motions, doing whatever it took to avoid pain and seek what pleasure was offered.

  This horrible specter, as much as the pain, kept her from sleeping. By her calculations, this was her fourth day. Hadn’t she heard somewhere that the first twenty-four hours were the most crucial? She knew as each day passed, the odds of her being found and rescued d
windled. Would she end up just another statistic, another unaccounted for missing person?

  No. Don’t think that way. Don’t give up. Devin knows you’re missing. Devin will find you. Leah sighed, not sure if she believed this anymore or not, but what else did she have to cling to?

  If only her body didn’t ache so. She was bruised and battered, and it wasn’t only the brand that was hurting. The steward had awakened her not long after Naeemah’s visit, furious that she hadn’t properly reciprocated the young woman’s attentions. Apparently, the creepy bastard and his fucking boss had been watching the girl-on-girl action the camera had recorded, and they were pissed Leah hadn’t gone down on the girl.

  The steward had yanked her from the bed and thrown her to the floor, using a riding crop to smack every inch of her naked body, while also kicking her with the sharp point of his boot. He’d been careful to avoid the brand—no doubt not daring to mar Khalil’s mark of ownership. He’d left her huddled in a corner, sobbing and shaking.

  Alex came to her some time later, taking her for a soothing bath. Gently and carefully he cleaned and dressed the brand, and though he said nothing to her, she thought she saw the disapproval on his face. At least she hadn’t been forced to see Khalil directly afterward, but was instead allowed to return to the small bedroom.

  She was given a plate of sliced apples and a glass of water, but nothing more. She stared at the unblinking eye of the video camera as she ate, noting that the red light had been turned off. They only recorded when there was a show to see, apparently, the voyeuristic dickwads.

  Leah must have dozed because she came awake suddenly to the sound of rumbling and clomping that got louder and louder, until she realized it was coming from behind the door Naeemah had slipped through. There was shouting and commotion. She thought she heard the words, “Police! Freeze!” in English.

  With a gasp, she grabbed the sheets and pulled them around her, her heart slamming in her chest. Someone was here! Someone had infiltrated the compound. She had to make sure they knew she was here too.

  “Help,” she cried, but her voice came out as a choked whimper. She rolled from the bed, taking the sheets with her. Her body screamed its protest, still aching from the steward’s brutal treatment, but she had to get up. She had to get to that door! She had to get it open.

  As if she’d willed it, at that moment the door flew open, and Leah, startled, screamed.

  A man stood there, silhouetted against the bright light behind him, which flooded into the bedroom, lit only by the single lamp near the bed. “Oh, my god. Leah, it’s you. My darling, you’re alive.”

  Before Leah could process what was happening, the man advanced into the room and leaned down, lifting her into strong arms. It couldn’t be real—she must be dreaming, and yet, and yet…

  “Devin,” she breathed, pressing her face against his broad chest, tears of relief and joy coursing down her cheeks. “I knew you would come.”

  Chapter 12

  Devin knocked lightly on the hospital room door, which was ajar. “Leah?” He pushed the door all the way open and stepped inside, aware he was holding his breath. She was sleeping, curled on her side like a golden angel, a white hospital gown over her shoulders. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her long, thick lashes brushed her cheeks.

  The nurse had told him she was dehydrated when they brought her in, but other than some slight malnutrition, some bumps and bruises, and the burn on her back, she was in excellent condition. An IV drip, a few good meals and plenty of rest had made a huge difference, the nurse told him.

  Devin had seen the bandage on her back when he’d scooped her into his arms during the rescue. She’d been crying too hard to explain, clinging to him and kissing his face through her tears. He hadn’t wanted to press her then, nor had there been time, even if he’d wanted to. He’d wrapped her in a blanket and held her close, letting her cry.

  One of the task force officers had entered the small bedroom moments after Devin. Using a walkie talkie, he called for two medics, giving his location. Not long after, two men carrying a stretcher came bursting into the room. Leah didn’t want to let go of Devin, nor he of her, but he’d given her one last kiss and whispered, “They’re going to take to you to hospital. I’ll be right behind, I promise.”

  Leah, along with three other young women, had been whisked away by helicopter, taken to Bumrungrad Hospital in Bangkok for evaluation. Devin tried to stay out of the way while Khalil, Hajiz, the two burly guards and several other men were handcuffed and loaded into the large police van that had arrived on the premises.

  Amir had left with the police, while Devin had been driven back to Interpol headquarters in Bangkok, where he was debriefed, as they called it. Basically, he had been thanked for his assistance in the operation, and then lectured about civilians sticking their neck out and risking the safety of all involved in a police operation.

  As soon as he could get away, he had hightailed his way to the hospital, only to be stonewalled there because Leah was in a high security ward, with no visitors allowed. By sweet talking a nurse on a nearby unit, he was able to get information as to Leah’s general health, which was good overall, the nurse had reassured him.

  He spent the night in a nearby hotel, watching a strange Thai movie with English subtitles on the television until he fell asleep, sometime near dawn. Amir had pulled a few strings after the twenty-four hour observation period, procuring a family visitor’s pass for Devin, once he’d gotten Leah’s okay.

  Amir had warned Devin about the brand on Leah’s back, explaining that the branding of women abducted by slave traffickers wasn’t all that unusual. It was a way to stake a claim, marking the prostitute or slave as property. Devin shuddered to think of Leah being subjected to such brutal, dehumanizing treatment. At least she’d only been held for four days. Imagine if they hadn’t acted fast enough, and Khalil had disappeared before they got there, taking Leah with him.

  Now Devin sat in the visitor’s chair beside Leah’s bed, drinking in the sight of her. He had never permitted himself to think she’d been killed, not while she was missing, but now, staring down at her, he realized how incredibly lucky they had been to find her at all, and to find her alive.

  He wanted to lean over and scoop her into his arms. He wanted to enfold her into him and keep her safe always. At the same time, he was almost afraid to touch her, as if she might shatter on contact. She looked so fragile lying there.

  When she woke up, would she be glad to see him? They’d known each other for all of a day before the horrendous abduction. It was possible she’d want nothing to do with him after this. It was possible she couldn’t wait to get on the next flight to the States, putting this nightmare behind her, Devin included.

  Leah sighed in her sleep and her eyelids fluttered open. “Leah,” Devin said gently, not wanting to startle her. “Hi, there,” he added inanely as she fixed him with those startlingly blue eyes.

  “Devin.” She reached out a hand and instinctively he leaned closer. She stroked his cheek, her eyes pooling with tears. “Devin,” she said again, the word like a caress.

  “Leah,” he replied, blinking back his own tears as he smiled at her, his heart swelling.

  Turning slightly, Leah lifted herself on her elbows. Devin stood, reaching to plump the pillows behind her. She winced as she leaned back against them.

  Alarmed, Devin said, “You okay? Should I get the nurse?”

  “No, no, I’m fine. A little sore, but I’m good.” She smiled at him. “Sit down. I’ve had enough of people clucking around me. Just sit down and let me look at you, Mr. Bond.”

  Devin grinned at the reference to his looking like Sean Connery, for a moment transported back to that first day on the beach, and the light, sexy banter that had gone on between them. Would they be able to get back to that sweet, easy place?

  He sat, a million questions burning on his lips about what she’d been through. Instead he said, “How’s the food in this place?”r />
  She smiled. “Not bad. They bring me meals like every twenty minutes. The nurse is worse than my mom.”

  “Speaking of,” Devin said. “Have you contacted your parents? Are they flying in?” In his mind, Devin had already decided Leah would be on the first plane out of Asia as soon as she was released and given clearance by Interpol. He realized he didn’t even know what state she lived in. He knew next to nothing about this girl, other than that she had occupied most of his brain and all of his heart since the moment he’d met her.

  “God, no,” Leah said emphatically. “I haven’t told them. They would shit bricks. My dad would go nuts with the I told you so lecture about a young woman traveling abroad and my mother would just cry and fix me with her mournful cow’s stare. No, thank you.”

  “Oh,” Devin said, genuinely surprised. “I just assumed—“

  “That because I’m twenty-three and American, the first thing I’m going to do is run home to mommy and daddy?” Leah interrupted, her lovely eyes flashing with the spark that had first attracted him. “It’s my life.”

  Devin couldn’t suppress a grin. Leah was her feisty self, or so it seemed. “My apologies, Ms. Jacobs. I meant no offense.”

  Leah shook her head, a sheepish smile moving over her face. “Hey, I’m sorry. The Interpol guys keep asking me about my parents, and when they’re coming for me, like I’m twelve or something. Do I want to get out of Thailand? Hell yeah. But not so I can go running into the arms of my parents. I was thinking…” She paused several beats, fixing Devin with a bold stare, though it was belied by the color creeping up her cheeks. Reaching back, she tugged at the elastic holding her hair back and wound the long, silky golden strands around her fingers.