A View to a Thrill (Masters and Mercenaries Book 7)

by Blake, Lexi

  “You belong working for me. You know that, right?”

  She belonged in the shadows, doing bad things for the right reasons. She nodded.

  “He won’t understand you.” Ten seemed grave, maybe a little sad. “I know you want it to work, but unless you can change, I don’t see how. You’re brilliant, Chelsea. You’ve got one of the top minds of your generation. It’s being wasted by Ian. Come with me and I swear, I’ll make sure you have everything you need. And if you want to spend time with Weston before we head back to DC, then I’ll help you do that, too. Your sister was right. You have to calm him down. You have to show him he’s in charge and you’re okay with that.”

  She shouldn’t have anything else to do with him. It was obvious to her that she should take the job with Ten. This probably wasn’t the last time her past would come back to haunt her, and she had to think about those women she loved to listen to. She had to think about their kids and who was going to get caught in her line of fire.

  “You can’t prosecute Ian for anything. No matter what he does. No cells.”

  A single brow arched over Ten’s eyes. “Are we negotiating?”

  She nodded again, unable to speak for a moment. This should have been her dream job. If he’d offered it to her six months before, she would have jumped on it and gone happily into whatever bat cave he wanted to put her in, but Simon had ruined it and now all she wanted was him and she couldn’t have him for all the reasons she couldn’t stay.

  “All right then. Let’s talk and then we’ll bring Weston in. He can have you until this is over, but then we’re leaving and he can’t know where you are. I’m not saying you won’t see him again. Nothing so dramatic, but you won’t be in touch with him on a regular basis.”

  She sat back in her chair, feeling a little older than before. “You have to get Jesse off the watchlists.”

  He frowned. “That will be hard.”

  “So will leaving my family.”

  “Done.”

  “You have to fix things for Simon. The police are looking for him. His reputation could be hurt. He could be in serious legal trouble.”

  “Done.” He looked up at her. “Chelsea, whatever you can think up, I can make happen. You know you can watch over all of them from this seat I’m putting you in. Despite what Tag might tell you, I believe in family, too. Now let’s talk about how you’re going to get Weston into bed since it looks like I’m playing your fairy godmother for the night.”

  Ten got to his feet and started to talk. Chelsea listened because if there was one thing she wanted more than anything, it was one more night with Simon Weston.

  Chapter Twelve

  Simon walked down the hall, trying not to look at Tennessee Smith so he wouldn’t feel the desperate need to punch his nose through the back of his face. He could do it. All it took was the right amount of pressure in the right place and suddenly his face wouldn’t be so movie-star pretty anymore.

  He had to get hold of his violent tendencies. He’d already assaulted his cousin, though at least JT was still talking to him. And his aunt had given him a perfectly pressed three-piece Hugo Boss with Louis Vuitton loafers that made him feel vaguely human again.

  “We’ll get started in five,” Ten called down the hall. “Did you tell Jesse or is he still taking tea with the ladies?”

  Simon didn’t bother to turn around. “He’ll be here.”

  He’d already spoken with Jesse, and they had a plan to leave as soon as possible, which looked to be some time in the night. He would drag Chelsea kicking and screaming.

  God, he hoped he didn’t have to drag her out of Ten’s bed.

  It made him physically ill. The thought of her in Ten’s arms made him see red, and he had to check himself.

  He entered his uncle’s office. It hadn’t changed much. It seemed to have gotten updated paint and carpet, but the giant longhorn head was still over the mantle. Lou, his cousin’s had named it. He’d heard his uncle tell more than one VP that they would take Lou’s place if they didn’t get their jobs done.

  He hadn’t gotten his job done, and now he had more problems than he liked to think about. He was wanted by the bloody police. His uncle was already working on getting the charges dropped, but he had to be quiet about it. His aunt had been kept away from the tellies and apparently his parents hadn’t heard the news yet.

  They would be thrilled.

  Chelsea walked in. She’d gotten rid of the shoes, but she’d changed to a ridiculously low-cut blouse, and she seemed to be wearing a bra that made her tits round and glorious.

  She walked in, her left leg obviously stiff. She needed to be off it, to have it rubbed and stretched. Ten wouldn’t do that for her. She would find that out. Ten wouldn’t take care of her.

  “Hey.” She stood back as though hesitant to approach.

  “Are you feeling all right?” He could do the small-talk thing.

  “I guess.”

  So no small-talk then. He turned and looked out of the windows, hoping the meeting would start so he could get this over with. He would retreat for the evening and make plans and then when he kidnapped her at three or four in the morning, he could gag her and they wouldn’t need to talk.

  “Are you all right?” She stepped up next to him. “Master?”

  He turned, his every instinct on high alert. “I’m perfectly fit.”

  She turned her face up and then her eyes slid away from him. “I don’t know why you’re so mad at me, Master. I know I was supposed to run, but I couldn’t leave you out there and I think I was more afraid of the raccoon than I was of the guys with the guns.”

  What was she playing at? “You disobeyed a direct order.”

  She nodded. And then she was suddenly in his arms, her body crashing against his chest. He stood there for a moment, his brain still seeing red, but his cock was already in charge because his arms went around her body, holding her tight to him. “I was really scared, Simon.”

  “Perhaps you were at the motel, but you got over it quickly. You seemed perfectly happy when I found you in the courtyard.” His actions didn’t match his words because his fingers were moving to tangle in her hair, dragging her head back so he could look into her eyes.

  She stared right at him. “Was I supposed to rage at him? Should I have kicked and fought? Simon, I can’t do that. I’m not strong. The only thing I could do was to play his game until I got you back. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to get close to him. Please, you have to know that.”

  “You were dancing with him.”

  “No one ever asked me to dance before. I wasn’t sure what to do. I was really bad at it, and the whole time I kept thinking about you on the boat and all those women.”

  He shook his head. “On the Royale?” His cover on their last op had been as a dancing instructor on a cruise ship. One of the benefits of his upbringing had been learning to dance. Mostly ballroom. He could waltz, foxtrot, and tango. He picked up rhythms easily and since he’d been living in Texas, he’d learned the Latin dances. Dancing, he’d learned, was a damn fine way to get a woman in bed, and that was precisely why he objected to her dancing with Ten. “Why would you think about that?”

  He’d relaxed his hold and she sighed and let her head rest against his chest. “Why do you think? I was in the security room when I was working my shifts. There were hundreds of cameras on that boat, but I just watched you most of the time. I definitely watched you dance. You were so graceful. You looked beautiful dancing with those women. You were in a tuxedo and they were in those designer gowns, and I knew I would never be the woman you danced with. I would always just be the girl who watched you like a weirdo stalker.”

  She was manipulating him. He was suddenly certain her talk with Charlotte hadn’t just been about whether she was healthy. She was being honest with him, open and vulnerable, and it didn’t mean a damn thing that he knew she was doing it on purpose.

  “I could teach you.” Right. It felt right to have her in his arms. He’d
been jealous. Couldn’t she be jealous, too? What real reason could she have for disarming him? He couldn’t provide anything for her that Ten couldn’t. Ten was in the position of power, so if she was coming to him, she had to be doing it for a different reason.

  She moved up on her toes, bringing their faces closer. “Just kiss me, Master. I was so scared they killed you. Please don’t be mad at me for the rest of the night. And don’t make me sleep in a different room. I want to be with you. For however long we’re thrown together, I want to be with you.”

  She was tearing down his every defense. Damn it. He should be harder. He should be able to walk away, but his mouth just kept getting closer to hers. “You know what I want from you.”

  “You want me to love you. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Please can’t we negotiate, Master?”

  His dick really wanted to negotiate. His cock wanted to give every concession to her if she would just let him inside. He’d yanked his own cock in the shower while thinking about her. He could barely breathe. He wanted her that badly. How could he really show her what they could be if he didn’t take her all the way?

  “Do you two need a room?” Ten’s flat voice broke the moment.

  When Simon looked over, Ten was standing just inside the doorway as his men walked in the room. There were eight of them including Michael, who looked like he’d gone a few rounds with a heavyweight. Simon couldn’t help the little satisfaction that ran through him. His cousin thought he was a lightweight? Now he knew.

  He turned but wouldn’t let Chelsea go. His arm slipped around her waist, binding her to him. “I suspect we can hold off for a while if you’re ready to give me some explanations.”

  Ten nodded, but his expression was dark. He didn’t look like a man who was okay with getting cut out. He would be even less happy when Simon took her away from here. “I will as soon as your partner gets his ass up here.”

  As the rest of the group settled in, Michael stepped up.

  So he was going to get the speech, the one where he was no longer welcome around here because he was far too much trouble. Well, it wasn’t entirely unexpected.

  “You’re a bastard, Si,” Michael said.

  Simon made sure his expression never changed, but he could feel Chelsea tense beside him. “My parents were married when I was conceived.”

  “You’re the asshole,” Chelsea began.

  He had to shut that down quickly. “Chelsea, be quiet. You disobeyed me earlier and there will be punishment for that. Don’t add to it by placing yourself between me and my cousin now.”

  She frowned. “But yelling at people is all I really do well.” An evil little smile lit her face.

  Oh, he definitely had to shut her down. “And you’re not allowed to cyber bomb the man.”

  Michael’s eyes went as wide as all the swelling would allow. “Cyber bomb?”

  “He means I could make your life hell with a few happy keystrokes, buddy.” Chelsea was suddenly standing taller.

  Simon sighed. “She’s not going to ruin your identity or set you up on one of those fetish dating sites.”

  “Oh, that would be so much fun. Navy SEAL seeks Master to dominate him. No calls necessary. If you’re man enough, show up at 101…”

  Michael pointed a finger her way. “You are not doing that. And I wasn’t coming over here to fight. I was coming over to apologize. I never meant to hurt you, man. I was following orders and sometimes that has to come first. You remember.”

  Yes, it was precisely why he’d gotten out of the military and then MI6. He’d never liked following orders. It was his cousin’s whole life. It was perfectly possible that Michael had believed him to be in real trouble and Tennessee Smith had convinced Michael this was the way to get him out of it. At the end of the day, everything was Ten’s fault. “It’s all right, Michael. And I offer my apologies for breaking your nose.”

  Michael shook his head. “Hey, it gave me the chance to punch JT so we stay identical. He was pissed. And I’m now a little scared of your lady there. JT really likes her, by the way.”

  Everyone liked his sub it seemed. His aunt had asked a million questions, none of which he’d answered because he’d been in a terrible mood. He was still in one. He was surrounded by people he didn’t trust, and he was going to have to take sides against Michael and his Malone relatives again. His gut was twisted by the thought of having to deal with the charges against him. He was in serious trouble.

  And none of it mattered because she was curling against his body as though she wanted to sink into him.

  He had another bloody hard-on. What the hell was he going to do? He’d promised he wouldn’t fuck her until he was sure of her, but she was the most elusive thing he’d ever met. If he didn’t have her soon, he might never.

  But he was going to get his discipline in first. Oh, he wasn’t going to let this evening pass without some serious punishment. He would have her screaming for him by the time he was done.

  Her deflowering wasn’t going to be sweet, but he intended to make sure she remembered it for the rest of her life.

  “Take a seat, gentlemen. I need to explain how I found out about the plot to bring Chelsea Dennis in.” Ten sat at the head of the table, his men around him.

  Simon gestured to the only two seats left just as Jesse walked in the door. He’d cleaned up, and it looked like his aunt had worked her magic. Jesse was looking rather civilized in a pair of slacks and a light dress shirt. He’d forgone the tie, but likely lost the battle over the dress shoes. His normal boots were gone and in their place was an elegant set of loafers.

  “I’ll stand,” Jesse said, moving to Simon’s back.

  “No. It’s okay. You can take the chair.” Chelsea put both hands on the table in front of her and started to lower herself down.

  Startled, Simon caught her before she could hit the floor.

  She looked up, a soft smile on her face. “Thanks. I don’t do that very well. I guess I should practice more. And do a whole lot of yoga.”

  He had to stop because she was so beautiful and felt so damn right in his arms. “What are you doing, Chelsea?”

  She bit that bottom lip, and he couldn’t help but wonder what her mouth would look like wrapped around his cock. “I didn’t read our contract, but I do know that most Doms like their subs to sit at their feet for long talks. Was that in our contract?”

  What kind of game was she playing now?

  “Dennis, could you do the submissive crap quickly?” Ten asked, his expression deeply irritated. “I have a meeting to run here.”

  Her eyes widened and her skin went the prettiest shade of pink.

  “Get the chair.” He wasn’t about to have her sitting at his feet during a meeting. They weren’t in a club and this wasn’t a McKay-Taggart meeting where no one would question or look down on a woman sitting at his feet. There was nothing he wanted more but this wasn’t the place. “Sit down. He needs to start the meeting.”

  She flushed again, red this time as embarrassment flooded her system. She pulled away and straightened up, all her easy sensuality fleeing in a second. “Oh, uhm. Yeah. Sorry.” She moved to get the chair, and he realized this was her concession.

  He had two choices and he wouldn’t get a second chance. She’d tried and she wasn’t the kind of girl who would try again. She would go back into her shell.

  She’d flirted with Ten. He should let her sit in her chair and not give a goddamn that she was hurt. It didn’t matter. She’d made her choice.

  Or had she? She was naïve enough about men and sex that she could think she could handle Ten. She could think she was doing good for their little team.

  No one ever asked me to dance before.

  He was an idiot. He reached out and grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. “You sit in my lap. That’s what’s in our contract. Jesse, take the chair.”

  He tugged on her hand until she moved, falling on his lap. It was an easy thing to maneuver her where he wanted. Her arms
went around his neck and her head fell against his shoulder.

  And he felt that odd peace that came to him when she wasn’t railing or yelling or pushing him away. When they finally connected, he felt something deep inside fall into place. This sense of contentment was why he kept trying, why he would likely always keep trying. He smoothed back her hair and let her settle down as Jesse sank into the chair beside them.

  “Really? You’re going to play it that way?” Ten asked.

  He didn’t give a damn what Ten thought. “You can conduct your meeting or I’ll take my submissive back to our room. She’s tired and has had a long day.”

  “What’s a submissive?” The slightly smaller of the new Tags leaned over toward Michael. “Is that what the Brits call a submersible? Because we don’t really have anywhere to put that out here.”

  Jesse leaned over, his voice low. “It’s good to not be the dumbest person in the room for once.”

  Ten’s brows raised, but he ignored Jesse. “You boys haven’t kept up with your erotic romance reading, have you? One of the things you should know about the McKay-Taggart team is every man among them is into BDSM and they tend to call their women subs. That’s short for submissives. They want their women to submit in the bedroom, but don’t take that term too seriously. Those women will cut a man who isn’t their Dom down to size.”

  “Sometimes we cut our Doms down to size, too,” Chelsea said with a smile.

  “So this dude who supposedly is my brother and who might show up here at some point in time to get his ass kicked is also a complete pervert,” Case Taggart said with a nice long roll of his eyes. It was obvious Ten had filled him in, but he still wasn’t impressed with his new family.

  Chelsea sat up. “Hey…”

  And he gently brought her back down. He didn’t need anyone to defend him against perfectly reasonable accusations. He was a pervert. He enjoyed it immensely. It was so much more fun than being vanilla. “Darling, relax. If all Ten brought us here for is to call me names, this is going to be a short meeting. And I, for one, will pay to watch that little boy over there get schooled by his brother.”