Power and Possession

by C. C. Gibbs

  Chapter 19

  The computer room had two dozen computers running, and Ganz was overseeing the technicians, moving from person to person, issuing instructions in crisp, blunt commands, waiting each time for either a confirming nod or a question that required further clarification. Every man’s facial expression was earnest and resolute. Everyone understood the stakes: Contini Pharma’s R&D, clinical trial results, and potential blockbuster drugs about to come on the market were all targets for the state-sponsored hacking.

  The system that Ganz had shut down for almost two days had come back online an hour ago with a vengeance, flooding the company’s bandwidth with a brute-force wave of DDoS attacks. Under Ganz’s direction, the technicians were defending with the full range of response tools, denying access, setting up additional buffers to any port that looked even remotely vulnerable, double-checking the security of their servers, bolstering their firewalls, ultimately funneling the massive amount of traffic through their own scrubbing center facility that separated bad from good. Everyone working at full capacity to stop the huge volume of challenges.

  Security of another kind was evident on the entire back wall of the large room, where thirty security screens overlooked the property, inside and out. Three men sat at a long counter scanning the monitors, part of a shift that changed every six hours. The protection was simply a fact of life for Rafe. His father had generated a number of enemies in his destructive path through life and both as heir and now CEO, Rafe had value in terms of ransom. Personal security was routine.

  Lounging on a wine leather chesterfield across the room from the technicians, Rafe was frowning, his phone to his ear. “How many?”

  “Three,” Carlos said. “We dumped them in the water two miles out. They won’t be found.”

  “I expect they’ll send more. Ganz is high target.”

  “Especially since he cleaned out the unit’s bank account when he left.”

  Rafe grunted. “They owed him, he said. I’m sure they did. He had to have made them billions. Fuckers are greedy.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Yeah. So. Here’s the plan,” Rafe said. “We have to be in Geneva no later than two. Ganz needs to check some of the corporate computers to make sure they’re secure. I’m leaving you behind to take care of any missed tails on Ganz. We’ll meet you in Geneva whenever you break free.”

  “Couple days, I’d say. Once they know they’ve lost Ganz and three of their men, if any of the team is left, they’ll wait for new orders. These people aren’t allowed to operate independently.”

  Rafe laughed. “Unlike Ganz. I’m surprised he lasted in Shanghai as long as he did.”

  “He was their star player, their prima donna. They were willing to bend a little for him, give him a little leash.”

  “But not enough.”

  “You don’t have to tell me about the price of freedom,” Carlos said drily. “I’ve seen a helluva lot of people die for it.”

  “Including Ganz’s father.” Rafe exhaled. “That was unnecessary; dumb as hell because Ganz is going to pay off that score in spades. As soon as he’s done with us, he’s going on the offensive. Speaking of settling scores, do you have enough men? We can send some down from Geneva.”

  “We’re fine.” Carlos chuckled. “Monaco is too rich an area for the squads after Ganz. They don’t blend in. They need better clothes.”

  “Next assassin manual. Item one. You tell them.”

  Carlos laughed. “No way. I love those cheap windbreakers. They might as well have a sign on their foreheads. I gotta go. Malcolm just walked in. Ciao.”

  Dropping his phone, Rafe noticed Nicole standing in the doorway. “Hey, baby. Have you been here long?”

  “Not long. I didn’t want to interrupt your call.”

  He tapped his phone. “Done.” He smiled. “Don’t you look fine. Perfect fit, perfect babe, come”—he patted his lap—“tell me what you liked best.”

  Rafe could have been a surfer, barefoot in shorts and a T-shirt, his hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, untidy bits of dark hair sticking out in disarray. But even dressed down, he was breathtakingly beautiful; not a single imperfection marred his flawless face and graceful, muscled body.

  As Nicole approached, Rafe held out his arms and grinned. “Jump. I’ll catch you.”

  Without hesitation, she did.

  And he laughed out loud as he caught her. “You’re my lovely wild thing, aren’t you?”

  She grinned from up close. “You make it supergratifying, Contini.”

  He dipped his head and brushed a kiss down her nose. “You are so awesome.” Then he dragged in a breath and got his shit together before he went off the rails about how awesome she was and made everything more complicated. “We have to get out of here soon. That okay with you?” He smiled. “You understand only one answer is allowed.”

  “Where?”

  “Geneva. Ganz has to lock down the software at corporate. Better safe than sorry, he says. Although he’s been building barricades in triplicate this morning, closing even the most insignificant access points in our systems. He’s headed them off at the pass.” Rafe held up crossed fingers. “So far.”

  “Good.” She smiled. “So take me and my new wardrobe anywhere. Thanks, by the way. The gifts were outrageously too much, but beautiful. You shouldn’t have done it, of course. I kinda mean it. Even though I love everything.”

  “I’m glad.” He ran a fingertip down the front of her dress, lingering briefly over one nipple. “You look nice. Umm… that feels nice.” He grinned. “Do I have to get through panties or have you left me easy access?”

  “You’re not getting through anything with a room full of people watching.”

  “They’re busy. They won’t even notice if you don’t scream.”

  She tensed. “Don’t you dare.”

  He grinned. “You can’t say that to me. Seriously, I take it personally.”

  She tried to swing her legs onto the floor.

  His hand came out, clamped on her legs, and pulled her back. “Now, panties or not? Yes or no?”

  “Yes. New ones. Expensive ones. Ones you better not tear.”

  “Then I’ll slip in from the side.”

  “You’ll do no such thing. I will scream if you so much as touch me—”

  “Here?” he whispered, brushing her clit every so lightly.

  She stifled a gasp.

  “What about here?” He added a finger and slid both digits inside palm deep.

  She began to tremble. “Please, Rafe.” She swallowed hard. “Don’t, oh God, don’t do that,” she breathed, flame-hot desire swelling through her senses.

  “Just a little orgasm. I’ll turn you so your back’s to the men. Better?” he murmured, stroking gently, running his fingertips over the soft cushion of her G-spot, sliding up and down her aching flesh, easing in a third finger with a casual push.

  Better was a relative word: sexually yes; scarily no, with potential exposure imminent. But she felt herself turn liquid inside, melt around his fingers, and like a coward, she shut her eyes. Like an addict, she gave in to the haze of lust beginning to engulf her. And when he whispered, “God, you’re beautiful, tiger. Smoking hot, tight, slippery wet,” she forgot where they were or didn’t care where they were, and pressed into his hand with enough force to let him know she was eager, impatient as always when he touched her.

  She started to quiver as his penetration deepened, softly moaned as he shifted into the exquisitely delicate, perfectly placed, lightly teasing strokes that had effectively turned her into a nymphomaniac in less than a day. Not that she was interested in any kind of therapy right now. Not that she was actually capable of logical thinking as her delirium mounted, and the aching pressure racheted up. “Are you okay?” he whispered just before he pressed his fingers in so deep she could only nod as carnal frenzy melted her brain.

  But short moments later, she squirmed faintly against this hand, asking for more
. “Good to go?” he murmured, smiling, knowing that artless eagerness, liking her uninhibited desire. Recognizing that he was on the clock too, with a roomful of techs in view. Quickly covering her mouth with his, he caressed her, testing the limits of her sleek, honeyed warmth until she was panting, barely breathing—his fingers and thumb flexing lightly, then harder, then with a subtle, tactile, targeted perfection guaranteed to make her scream.

  Like that.

  He swallowed her frantic sound as she convulsed around his fingers and glanced up under his lashes to see whether they had an audience. Just Ganz, who smiled, gave him a finger gun salute, and turned back to the tech huddled over his computer.

  Rafe kissed her gently while she purred under his mouth and slowly returned to the world.

  “I hate you,” she murmured when she finally opened her eyes.

  “Yeah, I could tell. Sadly, I’m going to have to wait for you to pay me back.”

  She stared at him for a moment before she winked. “Are you going to get off in public too?”

  He gave her a lopsided grin. “Whatever turns you on, babe.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re incorrigible. You know that, right?”

  “Just trying to keep up with you, pussycat.” He smiled and gently withdrew his fingers. “And you said you didn’t want to come. Liar.”

  “Don’t look so smug. You’re good, okay? I turn into a wet mess of goo whenever you touch me.”

  “That is so hot, tiger. Better than anything, I kid you not.” He glanced up when Ganz cleared his throat. “Looks like duty calls. Want something to eat? Henny can bring something up for you.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  “Not yet.” He pointed at a phone with about thirty buttons. “Call him. The one marked kitchen gets you there. Order anything. I don’t care.” He lifted her to her feet, gave her ass a little pat, then rose from the sofa. “I’ll be over talking to Ganz. Feel free to interrupt.”

  They left for Geneva shortly after breakfast.

  A helicopter landed on a wide expanse of lawn and Rafe escorted Nicole out to the plane, Ganz and Simon following behind.

  “We’re flying to Nice, where a jet’s waiting for us,” Rafe explained. “Have you ever been to Geneva?” He spoke with casual courtesy, as if they weren’t in a race against a dangerous, unscrupulous enemy. As if collateral damage wasn’t a possibility. As if his security wasn’t on high alert with all hands on deck.

  “No. You live there, right?”

  “Part of the year. Depends on business. I travel a lot. Here we go. Watch your head getting in.” He handed her up the small ramp into the copter. “Hi, Davey. Good weather for flying. Did you talk to Carlos?”

  “Yeah. He’s going to call when he’s ready.”

  “Good. The usual precautions.”

  “We’re on it, boss. Everyone buckle in. This won’t take long.”

  Chapter 20

  Geneva was a thirty-minute flight from Nice in a private jet; no lines, no waiting to take off, only smiles and bows and “Welcome aboard, sir, whenever you’re ready.” Arriving in Geneva was equally convenient. Two cars were waiting for them on the tarmac.

  “Ganz is going directly to our tech center,” Rafe said, helping Nicole into the backseat of another armored black Mercedes. “I thought we’d stop by my flat first. You might prefer staying there rather than sitting around watching everyone punch keyboards.”

  “Where are you going to be?” Rafe hadn’t changed from his shorts and T-shirt and hadn’t bothered to put on shoes. “Just asking.” She waggled her finger at his attire. “Dressed like that.”

  He grinned. “I’ll fit right in with my tech crew. If their mothers or wives don’t dress them, they’re in trouble. I’ll have to stay there until Ganz is satisfied everything’s secure. Thanks, Simon.” As the door was shut behind him, he turned to Nicole. “It might be hours, maybe days.” He didn’t say the longest DDoS attack Ganz had seen was twenty-eight days. “You’d be more comfortable at my flat. But your call.” He smiled. “I wouldn’t presume to tell you what to do.”

  She slid back in the corner of the seat and blew him a kiss. “Smart fellow. I’ll think about it. How far is your flat from the tech center?”

  “It’s close. A few blocks. They’re both in Old Town.”

  “I could walk back then if I get tired of hanging around.”

  “I’ll have Simon bring you back.”

  There was something guarded in his voice. “You don’t want me to walk?”

  He paused a fraction of a second, debating how to answer, how much or how little to tell her. He finally just said, “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  “Is it dangerous? My uncle travels with security. I’m aware of the hazards of wealth.”

  “It’s not just wealth. The country attacking our systems specializes in theft of technology, proprietary information, not to mention other less benign areas of attack.” Like assassinating Ganz’s father. “They’re dangerous. If you want to walk, we’ll find you somewhere else to walk.”

  “With security.”

  He nodded. “They’ll stay out of sight if you prefer.”

  She took a deep breath; she didn’t know the full extent of Dominic’s security but apparently Rafe’s was more than just Simon and the club bouncers. “How much security do you have?”

  “A lot,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t ask for specifics, because he’d have to lie. “Especially now with Ganz here.” Rafe’s eyebrows arched upward briefly. “He has powerful enemies. I’m sorry this is all unfolding now. I should probably send you home”—he sighed—“but selfishly, I’d rather not. If you’d like to leave though, I’ll see that you get back to Monaco, home, to Ibiza, wherever you like. I don’t want you to stay if you’re frightened.” He had the resources, organization, and manpower to protect Nicole. She wouldn’t come to harm, but he didn’t want her living in fear while she was with him.

  “You travel in armored cars for more than just these hackers, right?”

  Rafe glanced out the window at the passing cityscape, a French-speaking, international city, the most expensive city in an expensive country, his home. “My father was the world’s biggest asshole,” he said mildly, as though speaking with a cool reasonableness could erase the abomination that was the man. With a shrug of dismissal, he turned back to Nicole. “I’ve inherited a number of his enemies. People who get fucked over hold grudges—no surprise. I ignore them as much as I can, but…” His voice trailed off. “Christ. I really should send you home.”

  “Relax. I’m not going anywhere. You have security. What can go wrong?”

  He laughed. “About a thousand things. But I’ll take care of you. I can do that. Thanks for staying. I would have found it hard to let you go.”

  “Speaking of hard…” She grinned.

  Rafe shook his head, a small, almost infinitesimal, movement. “Can’t. I need a one-track mind until Ganz has everything under control. And with you lounging in my backseat looking like my favorite wet dream it’s not going to be easy, so don’t give me any shit.”

  She put up her hands. “Got it. No more teasing. I’ll stay out of your way. I’ll be fine. I’ll read or something. ”

  Rafe softly exhaled, surprised that it mattered so much that she was content, satisfied, staying. “I have a pretty decent library at my flat. You should be able to find something you like there.”

  “Then I’ll just grab a couple books, put on some slacks, and come with you. If you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. Have you thought about going to school in Europe? Or here? Geneva has several English-speaking universities.” What the fuck? Where did that even come from? His adrenaline spiked into the stratosphere.

  “I wish I could, but I can’t.” Nicole smiled because the pulse in his temple was beating wildly. “You’re safe.”

  He outwardly winced. “That transparent?”

  She chuckled. “Like glass, dude.”

  Leaning across the seat, he l
ifted her into his arms and tucked her close against his body. “Screw it. Go to school here if you want. Seriously. I’m good.” Then he bent his head and just before he kissed her, he whispered, “Happy anniversary.”

  When she came up for air, he was smiling.

  “You forgot.” His brows descended in feigned chagrin. “I’m crushed. Twenty-four hours, tiger.” He smiled. “It’s a major record for me.”

  She wasn’t sure that was good news or bad news, but being with him was right up there with surfing, chocolate, and being first in line for the world’s best sex, so fuck the future. “We’ll celebrate once your problems are over,” she said, grinning like someone who’d been given the keys to the city, the world, the universe. “I just happen to have a new flowery silk bustier I’m thinking you might find attractive.”

  “You don’t say,” he said softly. “Looks like I’m going to have to offer Ganz some serious incentive to shut this down in a hurry.”

  “Did I mention the spike heels with sparkly straps twining up my ankles?”

  He groaned. “Maybe prayer would work against computer attacks.”

  “You on your knees or me?”

  Taking her chin in his fingers, he met the twinkle in her eyes with a hard stare. “You’re going to get a goddamn spanking if you don’t stop. I can take only so much.”

  Tension radiated off him in waves. “Lord, I’m being an idiot when your company is dealing with a cyberwar,” she said with genuine remorse. “Not another word from me. I’ll just sit in a corner and quietly read, okay?”

  His fingers slid away and his hand dropped. “All I want to do is fuck you and I can’t right now.” He sighed, sexual repression a novelty in his life. “Later, we’ll make up for lost time, okay?”

  His flat turned out to be a four-story seventeenth-century building on the hill near the cathedral—smaller than the Monaco property but still impressive. They entered through security gates built into a high wall that shielded the lower levels of the house from the street. The gates closed automatically behind the car and after driving across a cobblestone courtyard, Simon brought the car to a stop before the main entrance.