by Zara Chase
Clandestine Affairs 3
Licensed to Thrill
When American Jodie Bisset, daughter of a senator-elect, is arrested in London, England on terrorist charges, her brother calls in the Clandestine Agency. Former elite soldiers Milo Hanson and Hal Lewis aren’t happy about their assignment. They don’t have time to babysit poor little rich girls who’ve gotten themselves into bad company. But the moment they meet their hot client they realize Jodie is guilty of nothing more sinister than naivety.
With Jodie released into their custody, the guys try to discover who wanted her arrested, suspecting her father’s political enemies. They mix business with pleasure, awakening Jodie’s sensual side and introducing her to their sexy games. Milo even thinks she just might be the one—until he learns of her plans to do charity work in the part of the world that left him permanently maimed.
With pressure from her father, and Milo’s feelings in conflict, is there any way forward for the three of them…
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length: 55,660 words
LICENSED TO THRILL
Clandestine Affairs 3
Zara Chase
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
LICENSED TO THRILL
Copyright © 2013 by Zara Chase
First E-book Publication: November 2013
Cover design by Les Byerley
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www.SirenPublishing.com
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
About the Author
LICENSED TO THRILL
Clandestine Affairs 3
ZARA CHASE
Copyright © 2013
Chapter One
“What is your problem?”
Raoul shrugged. “Depends who you ask.”
“Come on, man, keep up.” Zeke shot Raoul a pissed look. “They’re real babes, the pair of them.”
Raoul gave the women in question a lazy once over. “I’ve seen worse.”
“Earth to Raoul. Now is no time to get picky.” Zeke rolled his eyes. “In case you missed the signals, they’re hot for us, but they’re also getting a lot of attention from other guys. We’ll miss out if we don’t make our move now.”
Raoul took a long pull from his open bottle of beer, still watching the two women in question as they stood right in front of Raoul and Zeke, swaying their hips in time to the music being cranked out at an earsplitting level. He tried real hard to summon up some enthusiasm, but it just wasn’t there.
“The brunette has possibilities.” He shot Zeke a look. “Think she might be up for sharing us?”
“Doubt it. They look like they come as a package deal.”
Raoul’s halfhearted interest withered. “I’m gonna split, but you stay. Don’t let me cramp your style.”
“Nah, I ain’t packing enough to keep ’em both happy.”
Raoul hoisted a brow, amused. “At last the man admits to his shortcomings.”
“Fuck off. There’s nothing short about my God-given gifts.” Zeke had to shout to make himself heard over the trio on stage in the packed bar. They were singing something about a long good-bye. It would be just fine by Raoul if they cut to the abbreviated version. “At least I’m still interested in getting laid, whereas your dick’s in danger of dropping off from lack of use.”
Raoul smirked. “And yours ain’t?”
“What can I say?” Zeke shrugged. “One of us has to maintain the reputation we worked so hard to earn.”
Raoul blinked at his buddy. “Why?”
“Why?” Zeke’s eyes bugged. “Are you shitting me? These things matter, my friend. They matter a lot.”
Raoul flapped a hand. “Yeah, if you say so.”
“What is it, Raoul? What’s eating you? I practically had to hogtie you just to get you to come into town. Now you’re turning down fresh pussy when it’s served up to you on a bone-china plate.” Zeke tugged the end of his ponytail. “I just don’t get it, man.”
Raoul stood with his back to the bar, leaned both elbows on it, and watched the action going down, totally unimpressed by all the hustling, ducking, and diving. “What’s the point of it all, Zeke? Have you ever stopped to ask yourself that?”
“Shit, now he’s going all philosophical on me.” Zeke shook his head. “This is worse than I thought. You really do need to get laid, buddy. You sure that sweet little brunette wouldn’t take your mind off the great
er meaning of life?”
“Doubt it.” Raoul sighed. “When did women get to be so predatory? Call me old-fashioned, but I liked it in the days when the man made the running.”
“You’ve been out of the game for too long, old man. Take my advice, and get back up on the horse before you forget how to ride.”
Raoul gave the brunette another speculative glance, and chuckled. “Bareback?”
Zeke wagged a finger at him. “Safe sex, Mr. Washington. Safe sex.”
“In which case, I’ll pass.”
A guy pushed past Raoul to get to the bar, spilling the dregs from his almost-empty glass over Raoul’s boots without bothering to apologize.
“That’s it.” Raoul levered himself away from the bar. “I’m out of here. You coming?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Zeke expelled a heavy sigh. “Shit, that blonde was hot.”
“Hey, like I said, don’t let me stop you.”
“No, you’re right, it ain’t worth the effort. But I hear there’s a new BDSM club opening up in town. We need to check that out sometime soon.”
“Okay, that might work.”
“That’s what I like about you, bud. Your enthusiasm is infectious.”
Raoul laughed and slapped Zeke’s shoulder. As soon as they stepped outside into the almost-full parking lot Raoul gratefully swallowed down several mouthfuls of sweet Wyoming night air. That was more like it. A bar packed full of sweaty bodies, bad music played too loud, people pushing and shoving, predatory women eyeing him up—none of that shit did it for Raoul anymore. Zeke was probably right. He must be getting old.
Before they reached their truck, Raoul’s cell rang. The caller’s name was withheld, but few people had his private number so he took the call.
“Washington,” he said abruptly.
“Raoul, this is Paul Bisset.”
“Hey, Paul, how’s it going?”
“Not so bad. Listen, I’m stuck at the Pentagon, but I have a problem. The sort of problem that made me immediately think of you.”
Raoul frowned. He and Zeke had served with Paul in a previous life when they were all Green Berets—the elite of the elite. Raoul and Zeke left the service, but Paul had signed on for the long haul. A career soldier and natural diplomat, Paul was now a colonel, one of the youngest men to achieve that rank. For once the powers that be had promoted a man on merit, and now Paul was taking on the old school within the higher echelons of the Pentagon, playing military politics with the hand of a master. Raoul was glad there was someone in there fighting for his old comrades—someone who had been at the sharp end, put the serving men first, and didn’t talk out of his ass. Raoul had a great deal of respect for Paul. He was tough, intelligent, and didn’t take shit from anyone.
So why was Mr. Fixit calling Raoul out of the blue with unsolvable problems?
“Okay, what can I do for you?”
“It’s my little sister, Jodie. You remember her?”
Raoul shook his head, even though Paul couldn’t see the gesture. “Sorry, can’t say that I do.”
“Well, it was ten years ago when you met her. She was only twelve at the time, so I don’t suppose she made much of an impression.”
Raoul vaguely recalled a leggy colt with pigtails, a freckled nose, and endless questions following Paul and Raoul everywhere they went. “She the one who fell out of a tree, almost landed on my head, and then blamed me when she sprained her wrist?”
Paul chuckled. “That would be Jodie. But she ain’t twelve anymore, and she’s in way more trouble than getting stuck up a tree.”
“Tell me.”
“She’s in London, England, and has gotten herself arrested.”
“Oh.” Raoul wondered what he was supposed to do about that. “Sounds like she needs a lawyer.”
“Yeah, but it’s delicate. I haven’t told the old man yet, but he’ll go ballistic when he hears.”
“Ah, I see.” Raoul immediately joined the dots. Paul’s father was a hardliner—tough on crime, tough on immigration, tough on just about every damned thing, including his kids. He was now running for the senate, and if word of his only daughter’s arrest got out it would probably kill his campaign stone dead. “What did Jodie do this time?”
“She’s a real crusader. Always fighting for the underdog.”
“Yes, and…” Raoul had a nasty feeling. “What precisely was she arrested for, Paul?”
“Er, it’s bad, buddy.” Raoul heard him swallow. “She’s been arrested under the Terrorism Act.”
A chill ran down Raoul’s spine. “The British Terrorism Act?”
“Yeah, which amounts to terrorism against America, too, because the two countries are joined at the hip politically when it comes to that sort of stuff.”
“What the fuck has she been up to?”
Paul’s sigh echoed down the line. “She isn’t too sure herself. I gotta tell you, Raoul, she might be a bit wild, but she’s no terrorist. It has to be a setup. Someone getting to the old man through her.”
Raoul took a moment to process what Paul had told him. It had to be more than that, and whatever it was, it wasn’t just Paul’s father who would suffer from the consequences. It wouldn’t reflect well on Paul either, what with his sensitive position within the Pentagon. If his enemies found out, it would give them the perfect opportunity to oust him.
“I don’t know any more than that,” Paul said into the silence. “Jodie called me, sounding scared, but said she had no idea what it was all about. There were a bunch of them in a house somewhere. It was raided, and they were all arrested.”
“So it might not be her they’re after?”
“No, but if someone else in that house was into something anti-establishment she’ll be implicated, too, especially given her background. Anyway, I told her to sit tight and say nothing until I got her a lawyer.”
“Has the American embassy gotten involved?”
“She was allowed only one call, which she made to me. I haven’t told the embassy, but they’ll get to hear of it sooner or later, you can bet your life on that. I wanted to try and get her out, and fix it all, before the old man hears about it.”
“When the embassy finds out she’s in custody, surely they’ll be obliged to step in to see if they can help?”
“They would if Jodie asked for them to, I guess, but in cases as sensitive as this, particularly with the old man being in the position he’s in, they’ll probably bury their heads and see how it plays out.”
I’ll just bet they will. “Spoken like a true cynic.”
“Just telling you what I know they’ll be thinking.”
“Okay, I see, but I still don’t—”
“I have to try and save Jodie from her own stupidity. She’s no fucking terrorist, Raoul, just a woman with an overdeveloped conscience who thinks she can right all the world’s wrongs single-handed.”
Raoul rolled his eyes. “Of course she is.”
“I’d go to London myself, but I simply can’t leave right now. We’ve got some high-powered discussions going on about…well, I can’t tell you what about, but I need to be there. Trust me, if I didn’t then I would—”
“Okay,” Raoul said. “I might know someone who can help.”
“That would be awesome.” Raoul could hear the relief in Paul’s voice. “I owe you big time, buddy. It’s only a matter of time before someone tells the old man. I’d like to know what’s going on and be able to break the news to him myself.”
“Where’s Jodie being held?”
“Paddington Green, central London.”
“That figures.” Raoul thought fast. That was where they took all British terror suspects. “Okay, hang in there. I’ll get back to you, soon as I know anything.”
Raoul cut the connection. Zeke already had the truck fired up. He backed it out of the lot, heading in the direction of their ranch, all thoughts of getting laid put aside. Raoul brought him up to speed while he drove.
“Don’t like the sound of it,”
Zeke said. “The Brits don’t arrest Americans for no reason.”
“She’s obviously gotten herself into something that could come back and bite Paul’s dad on the ass.” Raoul curled his upper lip. “Paul’s real worried about his baby sister, but it sounded like their old man’s only concern, once he finds out about it, will be for his career.”
“He’s a politician. What else would you expect?”
“Yeah, right.” Raoul kicked moodily at the mat in the footwell of their truck.
“Who we got over there?”
Raoul and Zeke ran a clandestine agency, manned by tough ex-forces guys, that couldn’t be found in any phone directory. A lot of their assignments came from the military hierarchy, who couldn’t be seen to get involved in sorting out their own screw-ups. Others came from contacts like Paul. Raoul’s operatives worked under the radar, obeying no one’s dictates other than those of their own consciences. They had all experienced the horrors and injustices of war firsthand, and were now ready to redress the balance, one case at a time.
“Milo and Hal,” Raoul said. “Milo has a law degree, as well as being hard-ass ex-SAS—”
Zeke smirked. “What, those SAS wimps who think they measure up to us Green Berets?”
“They do, and you well know it. I seem to recall that time when one of those SAS wimps kicked your ass on the assault course.”
“Just one time,” Zeke protested. “And I had the hangover from hell that day.”
Raoul laughed. “Anyway, this ought to suit Milo and Hal down to the ground.”
“I don’t like the sound of it, Raoul. Terrorism?” Zeke shook his head. “The Brits don’t usually get that stuff wrong.”
