And the woman did cry out in pleasure, as he knew she would.
It began more like a whimper, and then in response to the horror of her own base desire, than the ecstasy of love. Frightened by her inability to control her bodily needs as he showed her exactly what her body was capable of. Her face, aghast in abject desire, unbearable pleasure, and split between the guilt and shame of it all.
Sarah tried to look away, unable to hide her shame.
Or her need.
When he was done with her he climbed out of bed, leaving her still writhing around, naked and insatiable.
“Come back to me!” she begged.
“I have a meeting. I must get ready.” He made no apology for her frustration.
Andrew Brandt examined himself in the mirror.
Despite his rigorous exercise this morning, his face displayed no sign of the exertion. There was no sweat, his cheeks weren’t flushed, and he breathed calmly.
There was something hard about his face, as attractive as it was frightening. His hair blond, and groomed so that not even a single strand fell out of place. His eyes were grey, and piercing in their intelligence and power. A cleft chin broke his strong jaw line. Years of practice had allowed him to develop an unreserved smile, which could be used to disarm another’s temper or mistrust instantly. It was entirely fake, but then, the best were.
If eyes really were the windows to the soul, his would show a man willing to stop at nothing to achieve his every desire.
And what he desired most was power.
In another hour he would meet the buyer and make the final arrangements to complete the transaction. At a price of 100 million dollars U.S., he had no intention of making even the slightest mistake. Even to him, that amounted to a massive financial windfall.
He had a short shower, followed by a long shave as he delicately groomed himself and considered all the things that such money could afford.
Luxuries, women, power…
He was born into luxury, although he’d worked hard to improve on the fortune that his father had left him. As for women, Andrew could have as many as he wanted. However, it wasn’t just the amount, but the type.
Like Sarah Clausen, whom he’d just seduced.
The daughter of the billionaire, Edward Worthington, who was the reclusive CEO of Worthington Enterprises, the multi-billion-dollar start-up tech firm. While her old man held the title, most people saw her as the brains and poster child of the company. Unknown to the rest of the general public, or even most employees, Worthington’s was about to make an announcement. Andrew knew what that announcement was going to be, but it was the date of it that was going to make him very rich.
And for that, he needed Sarah’s help.
Sarah was what he considered a typical heiress to a fortune. Groomed by tutors, educators, linguists and other specialists since birth, she was the product of the education that only that sort of money could buy. She’d gone on to become Dux at Cambridge University when she studied law. Now, at the age of 40, a control freak in herself and a self-pronounced feminist, she’d managed to avoid romantic relationships all of her life. When he first studied her, Andrew was momentarily worried that she was gay, but further scrutiny showed her to be a workaholic, with standards set much too high for any honest man to meet. Fortunately, he was as dishonest as a man could be. Currently, she served as senior legal counsel to her father’s company.
That’s what brought her into his life.
He could take a strong woman for such money and make her weak. Money in itself buys whores, but 100 million dollars buys power. And with that sort of power, you could take a strong woman, strip her of everything she has, and reduce her to nothing but a cheap whore, and inflame her with lust that betrays her own dignities. He felt himself stiffen again at the thought. Sex for him had little to do with physical attraction, and everything to do with power.
He donned his tailored suit, with matching blue neck tie.
An Oxford graduate with an Master of Business Administration, Andrew had worked at the Bank of England for nearly a decade before opening his own Merchant Bank. He now earned more in a day than most did in a lifetime. He specialized in unique acquisitions, which were as varied as they were expensive. He specialized in convincing people to sell before they knew they even wanted to.
Some of his previous transactions included such wonderful items as a nuclear submarine for a private buyer, the secret plans for a new type of hydrogen engine, new pharmacological products, and the remains of one of the Seven Wonders of the World.
For the most part, his transactions were perfectly legal, so long as he didn’t get caught, on the international playing field that he worked. Some projects more so than others.
Today’s acquisition was on the dangerous end of that scale, and completely destroyed any pretense of legitimacy.
He looked at his watch, an old Rolex. It was ten minutes past nine in the morning. It would be in his possession by now. The thought made him think about his acquisition. He smiled happily.
With a 100-million-dollar price tag, the risk versus benefit had convinced him that he was making the right investment. And after all, that was the only way that a real businessman could look at his transactions. It wasn’t a matter of being moral or ethical, instead, he saw everything as risk versus benefit. In this case, he could amass an even greater fortune for a few day’s work and minor risk, or he could be caught, and spend the rest of his life in jail, or worse, depending on the country of capture, end up shot by firing squad.
When the request was first made from the buyer, he had said that he’d hate to put a price tag on a person’s life. But then, when the buyer threw out the figure, he was confident such a price covered it.
He checked his watch again.
It was 9:15.
He should have heard by now.
Andrew walked toward his private lift. Sarah remained on his bed, sensually lying on her side, naked as the day she was born, a look of pleasure mingled with guilt abjectly painted on her face.
He smacked her bare ass, and she turned around and sat up immediately.
“Hey, that hurt, you asshole!”
He ignored her complaint. “Sarah, I need something from you.”
“Anything for you Andrew.”
“Good, I’m going to need the precise date your father’s going to release his statement.”
She sat up, looking serious for the first time that day. “You know about the development?”
“Of course I do. Why did you think I seduced you?”
A frown crossed her face, and for a moment, Andrew thought she was going to cry. He’d not expected that of her.
The thought made him happy.
“You planned this entire thing, because you wanted to know when my father’s going to come out with the news on Worthington Enterprises?”
“That’s right,” Andrew said cheerfully.
She frowned. “That’s what this was about, wasn’t it? You never loved me? You wanted to know protected information.”
“Yes.”
“Well you can get fucked. I won’t do it. Besides, do you realize that you and I could both go to prison if we were even caught talking about such things? Don’t you know what that sort of information will cause on the stock exchange?”
“Insider trading at its grandest scale!” he replied.
She laughed.
“Of course you do. And with the amount of money I’m sure you could move on it, the investigators would quickly track it down to me. So no, you can find another whore to fuck!”
She went to slap him, but he caught her hand. There was no way he was going to let her, a woman, strike him in the face.
“Here Sarah, have a look at these pictures I had taken last night specifically to remember you by. I wonder what all those trashy mags would think about publishing these images of the world’s richest and most prominent feminist.”
Sarah dipped her head as she scanned the pictures he placed
in front of her.
Andrew saw with more than a little pleasure, that it was the third picture that made her realize her mistake. It wasn’t being tied spread-eagled, or the marks on her wrists and back from where she’d struggled that had done it for her.
No, it was the image of her face begging for him. A suppliant resolution that she’d accepted her fate, as the weaker sex.
To be abused.
He looked at her beautiful face. There were tears in her eyes and she looked miserable, but there was something else too. He thought he’d imagined it at first, but the more he examined her countenance the more he realized it was there. It was relief. She had been in control her entire life, and he’d made her lose it.
“It’s August, the 23rd.”
There were tears in her eyes.
“Good.”
Andrew looked at his security guard who’d walked into the room. “Trent, please see this woman out.”
Sarah quickly attempted to get dressed while the security guard grabbed her.
“Oh, and Sarah…”
“What?”
“I’ll be in town again in two weeks.”
She stared at him, understanding slowly dawning on her.
“You will come to me.” A Machiavellian grin crossed his face. “In the meantime, I forbid you to touch yourself.”
“Yes, master.”
Chapter Six
Andrew Brandt caught his private elevator to his secure carpark, ten stories below his One Hyde Park penthouse. It was currently the world’s most expensive and overinflated piece of real estate. He would have to start making his way to meet the buyer.
In his car, he switched his cell on.
Andrew didn’t believe in the concept that cell phones were invented so that people could maintain constant contact. He had kept a strict policy of being contactable during specific business hours or prearranged times outside of those hours.
After returning home from his work in Amsterdam the day before, he’d picked Sarah up. She fell into the category of business, even though he didn’t entirely dislike the prospect of seducing her. His business was to be with her, and for that, he did not want interruptions.
His smartphone came up with two messages:
Something’s wrong.
Call me.
It was Alex, one of the operatives he’d used in Amsterdam.
Andrew relaxed into the seat of his Bentley.
It was going to be a long day.
He then pressed ‘call Alex.
“Do we have the product?” Andrew asked.
“No. Someone else kidnapped her before we could do so. It happened yesterday.”
“Yesterday? I saw her yesterday. Do you know who?”
“No, but we’ll keep trying. It’s not like they’re going to get her out of here without us noticing. We have all local airports, marine ports, railway stations, and bus lines covered.”
Andrew looked out the window, temporarily distracted by the conversation, and then said, “The buyer’s not going to be happy.”
“There’s something else that you might want to know, too…”
“What?”
“She had new information about Atlantis.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. HE was after Atlantis?” Andrew looked at a cat running across the road. He accelerated carelessly, seeing if he could hit the creature.
“It appears so.”
“What makes you so certain?”
“We stole her laptop from the trunk of her car. It was riddled with images of the Arcane Stone and what she had to do to use it.”
“Really?” Andrew grinned with the surprising new development. “Okay, send the message out, call in all sleeper cells around the world. The Phoenix Resistance are going to have their first meeting for the millennium.”
It wasn’t every day that two of his projects collided.
Chapter Seven
Tom Bower burst into Sam’s hotel room.
It had taken him less than twelve hours to catch a flight across the Atlantic as soon as he’d found out about Billie.
“How the hell did you let them do this to her?”
“It wasn’t my fault. I was following up another lead while she was being targeted.”
“But by who?”
“I have no idea. If she’d discovered a new fact about the Master Builders I might have been worried THEY had got a hold of her. But this is about Atlantis. No, whoever got her knows she’d discovered Atlantis.”
“Seeing as Atlantis is more renowned for its enormous wealth, we can hope that whoever we’re dealing with are willing to negotiate on financial terms.”
“You mean ransom?”
“Sure. Your father’s rich enough to pay anyone off. You will buy her life, won’t you?”
“Hold on Tom. I know you’re smitten with her, but let’s not jump the gun here. No one has even asked for a ransom yet. We might just solve this problem ourselves. Alternatively, I’m sure you can agree that Billie can be… how do I say this? A little rough around the edges. We might just get lucky and have them decide she’s not worth it and send her back?”
Tom looked at Sam. The man was making a joke, but even so, it was the wrong one. He fought himself not to take the bait.
“Okay, what about your lead. What did you find?”
“Nothing. A dead end.”
“So what exactly do we know happened to Billie?”
“She was on her way back from the National Archives Center when she called me to tell me that some people had been following her. I told her to stay on the main roads and that I would come and get her.”
“So what happened? Why didn’t you protect her?”
“By the time I reached her, they had already got to her. It appears that someone intentionally drove into her to send her off the bridge and into the bay below. By the time I entered the car, one of the windows on the driver’s side had been broken – from the outside in – and the rear back door was still wide open.”
“Okay, so someone took her while the car was sinking. That’s promising. At least they didn’t intend for her to drown. Did you retrieve anything from her car?”
Sam looked guilty.
“When I dived down the trunk was open and there was nothing inside.”
“Oh shit! Don’t tell me…”
“She should have had her laptop with her today.”
Tom shook his head. “Do you have a backup hard drive?”
“Sure, but now they know what we do. Which means we’re in trouble.”
Tom grinned. “That’s great news…”
“What the hell makes you say that?”
“Because if Billie’s as smart as we both know she is, she’ll work out the next stage of the map and leave a clue for us.”
“That’s great, but you’re forgetting one thing.”
“What?”
“We have to work out the next step of the map.”
“But we know that she was on to something at the National Archives. She found it, didn’t she?”
“Yes, the Arcane Stone.”
“That sounds like something out of Harry Potter. What is it?”
“Legend is, the Arcane Stone, when placed correctly, will guide the viewer to the opening of the Atlantis Archives – a secret library built during the reign of the Atlantean people, in order to document their history.”
“So, she has it?”
“No she made digital copies. Said the security was too tight to steal it, or she would have.”
“Do we know where to use it?”
“No, but Billie definitely did. And I’m hopeful we can work it out.”
Chapter Eight
Andrew entered the National Archives building.
After watching the two men walk up the stairs, he followed them, walking up the first two sets of stairs and heading directly toward the last three rows of archives, in a section dated 1630 to 1650. There, the two men had stopped to examine the dates. One appeared average
in height, while the other looked like a giant. Both men, he noticed, had arms and shoulders as big as professional boxers. There was also something about their posture that suggested they were both confident and focused at the same time.
The taller of the two had dark curly hair and hazel eyes. His face portrayed a certain intensity that Andrew couldn’t quite put his finger on immediately. He carefully examined the man’s features until it registered, as he knew it would – this man has a relationship with Dr. Swan which is strictly non-professional. Whereas the shorter one, who was still at least six feet tall, had dark blue eyes, tousled brown hair that looked like he’d just come out of the surf, and a grin that made him appear more interested in the antiquity he was admiring than whether or not he was able to rescue Dr. Swan.
He guessed they had both served in the military at some stage, and would be quick and capable at defending themselves if the need were to arise. Not that Andrew envisaged any reason for that today. After all, he wanted them to succeed as much as they did. It was only through them he could discover where Dr. Billie Swan had been taken.
To reach Atlantis, he was going to need her help, and he would have it – whether she wanted to give it, or not.
He had no reason to hide. He’d never met or even seen either man before. He’d heard about Sam Reilly, and had previously been approached by his rich father with business, but there was no way the two men could place him with any connection to Billie’s abduction.
Especially, since, in the end, someone else got to her first.
The two men in front of him opened several books, appearing to check serial numbers and dates. After making notes, he heard the shorter of the two men say, “Okay, let’s go get it.”
Andrew opened up a book called Reclaiming Land from the Sea and pretended to read it as he watched the two men enter another room labeled Historical Artifacts.
The shorter of the two handed the librarian a piece of paper, presumably with the item’s serial number. Both men were asked to provide photo identification and then directed to sit down.
Andrew put his book back and walked closer toward where Sam and Tom were now patiently sitting, waiting for the librarian to bring out whatever it was they were after. The second she returned and placed it on the table in front of them, the lights above made it shine like an orange sun. He was stunned at its appearance. He recognized the artifact immediately.
Atlantis Stolen (Sam Reilly Book 3) Page 4
