The Grandmaster’s Legacy: Masters of Love and War (A Taylor Lee HOT Historical Romantic Suspense Collection) (The Grandmaster's Legacy)

by Taylor Lee

  He grinned at her, his eyes widening in appreciation. He hesitated for a moment then blushed. “I… I… hope you aren’t offended Ma’am, but… you look like an angel. A Christmas angel whose hair is on fire.” He blushed to the roots of his closely cropped hair. “I… I mean, you’re not on fire but…” His voice trailed off to a helpless groan.

  Tiffany laughed and reached up and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

  Glancing at his name badge, she said, “Thank you, Private Mason. I am anything but an angel. But thank you for saying so.” Hardly believing the words came out of her mouth, she added, “Merry Christmas.”

  Inside, the hat check woman took her wrap—and oohed and ahhed over it.

  “Is this real fur?” she asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

  Tiffany smiled. “Yes, it is. I have a very politically incorrect father and he always gives me outrageous gifts like this.” She added with a smile, “But I love it.”

  The pleasant exchanges, first with the valet and then the hat check clerk, buoyed her spirits. Maybe this evening wouldn’t be horrible. She admitted, even for her, spending Christmas Eve in her cold, lonely apartment didn’t make sense.

  Entering the ballroom, she was greeted by a chorus of happy voices, many of them calling out her name. Soon she was surrounded by members of her team and others, all welcoming her. One after another, people she barely knew came over to congratulate her and to say how wonderful she looked. Even the pointed stares at her risqué dress from the dumpy brigade—as she’d named the spiteful wives who occupied a corner at every event—didn’t bother her. She shrugged and reminded herself that if she looked like they did, she’d be mad too.

  The room was festive, and after sipping on a glass of holiday punch she began to relax. She smiled to herself, knowing she really had it bad when even the music didn’t bother her.

  And then she saw Brady.

  He was standing across the room in the midst of a group of men and women all seemingly eager to get his attention. He turned and met her eyes. A storm of sensation flooded her. She gasped for air but her lungs were too tight to catch the breath. A wave of dizziness made her legs shake and she grasped the edge of the table for support. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure the people around her could hear it.

  He was gorgeous. Towering over the next tallest man, he looked like a Viking warrior. Tall, strong and muscular. Brady was wearing a formal dress suit, but rather than a tie or bowtie like the other men, his white silk shirt was open at the neck. His hair was tied back with a leather cord, a rakish counterpoint to his dark golden brown beard shadow. His jacket and trousers, cut in the latest GQ style, strained against his muscular shoulders and thighs.

  Tiffany forced herself to meet his gaze. A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth but his eyes were dark, a stormy green sea. He was like a panther. Lean, sleek, predatory. She struggled to suck in another breath.

  He raised his glass to her in an ironic salute, then turned back to answer General Thornton’s question.

  Tiffany glanced at the exit wondering if she could make it to the door without falling. She reminded herself, she’d walked in—surely she could walk out. Preparing to flee, she was stopped by the tinkling of a spoon rapping against a glass, the universal call to order.

  Colonel Marion stood at the front of the room and Tiffany’s heart sank, realizing that he was about to speak and that there was no way she could leave now.

  After welcoming everyone, Colonel Marion introduced the General, his wife, and other dignitaries. After the usual clapping and humorous introductions and good will amplified by the presence of punch and eggnog, the Colonel’s expression grew serious.

  “We have a special reason to celebrate this Christmas. One of our teams just participated in an unusually dangerous operation. To my joy and relief they all survived the mission. To my even greater joy, they took down a vicious international criminal who had the power to do more evil in the world than any of us can conceive.”

  Tiffany listened to Colonel Marion describe the mission as much as he could, given the high level of secrecy it entailed. A feeling of dread crept up her spine when she heard the Colonel begin to name the members of the team. Her fear eased somewhat when she thought he was simply going to list their names. But after he’d introduced the members of the backup squad, he stopped, allowing for a round of applause.

  Tiffany thought she might faint when her worst fear came true.

  Colonel Marion looked around the room and met her gaze. He smiled at her.

  “I’m pleased to introduce two people who deserve much more recognition that we can give them tonight—although appropriate medals are on the way. In truth these two people are heroes and deserve the thanks of the people of the United States. It is my honor to have commanded a team that was led by Captain Tiffany Anderson and Colonel Brady Schaefer.”

  Tiffany didn’t know how she made it across the room without falling but she did and from the way her face ached, she must be smiling. When she reached the Colonel’s side, he turned to the audience and said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, may I introduce our very own hero, a woman who makes me proud to be a soldier, Captain Tiffany Anderson.”

  As the audience erupted in a rousing burst of applause with catcalls and hoorahs mixed in, Tiffany fought back tears and reached up and kissed Col. Marion, and said simply, “Thank you.”

  After the applause died down, Col. Marion introduced Brady. Describing him as a true American hero, he listed a string of accomplishments—ending with his sadness that they had not been able to keep a soldier of Brady’s distinction in the active military.

  Brady stepped forward.

  “Colonel Marion is gracious indeed. I was quaking in my boots wondering if he was going to mention the times he had to spring me and my partner from certain time in the brig for, shall we say, ‘exceeding’ orders.”

  Following the roar of appreciative laughter at this and other hilarious self-deprecating stories, Brady tuned serious.

  “But, folks, I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge the bravest and most accomplished woman I know, Captain Tiffany Anderson. It was a privilege to work with her again. We were teammates three years ago and Tiffany did then what she does in every mission she works. She exceeded all expectations, putting herself in horrific danger. And she helped us take down an evil man and shatter a human trafficking ring, saving the lives of countless young women. The United States Army should be very proud. To say that Tiffany a superstar is an understatement. It doesn’t do her justice. No, a better description is to call her a supernova. As all of you astronomy buffs know, unlike a mere superstar, a supernova outshines an entire galaxy.”

  Brady reached out and took her hand, forcing her to look up at him.

  He added quietly, “It’s a privilege to work with you, Tiffany. I’m honored to have been on your team.”

  Knowing that she would burst into tears at any minute, Tiffany was relieved when Brady turned to the audience with a grin. “And I might add that she has the hottest ass in the entire United States Army!”

  The crowd came apart.

  Chapter 7

  As men and women crowded around the two of them, offering congratulations and thanking them for what they had done, Brady kept a firm grip on her arm. Initially she’d tried to pull away, but he merely notched her closer. After several minutes, as she answered questions and tried to make conversation, she found herself moving closer to him, wanting the comfort of his strong body next to hers.

  After what seemed like hours, but was minutes at the most, the band moved into a lilting medley of Christmas songs.

  Brady leaned down and said in a low voice, “Shall we?”

  She started to refuse, but he tugged on her arm and led her out to the dance floor. Sweeping her into his arms, he murmured, “Hey, it’s not Elvis…”

  As he pulled her closer to him, she melted into him. She gasped as a rush of sensation flooded over her. Frightened by the fiery flames of
heat racing through her, she tried to pull away but he just tightened his hold on her.

  `His voice was low, husky. “Uh uh, darlin’, you aren’t going anywhere but here in my arms. And, yeah, honey, I feel it too.”

  Breathing in his unique smell, a combination of expensive cologne and strong man, she was shocked at the quaking sensations streaking through her core. She buried her head against him, clinging to him to keep from falling. Her legs were shaking. He was so big, so strong, even with her five inch high heels he towered over her. If anything her shoes put her at greater disadvantage, brought her hips up close to his groin. With a low growl he pressed his body against hers grinding his prominent arousal into the heat between her legs. Stunned at the hunger searing her, a needy whimper escaped her lips.

  Oh God, she should push him away, run, anything… But she didn’t want to. God no. Her legs wouldn’t stop shaking and she realized with a shudder that she was wet.

  Brady leaned down and bit lightly on the sensitive place below her ear. She couldn’t hold back a soft cry. He dragged his beard shadow across her tender skin and growled softly, “You smell so fucking good, Tiffany. Fresh, spicy… and sexy. Yeah, honey, so goddamned sexy. I need you, baby.”

  Clinging to him, helpless to stop trembling, she realized that the song had come to an end and he was still holding her in his arms.

  She whimpered, “Brady, help me.”

  He held her close and murmured, “It’s okay, darlin’. I’ve got you. Oh yeah, baby, I’ve got you now.”

  Seeing that the people close by were staring at them, he put his arm around her shoulders and began to ease her away from the dance floor. Tiffany’s face was burning hot. She could only imagine what she looked like. But she didn’t know if she could walk without stumbling if she let go of his arm. At that moment a deep voice caught their attention. Swallowing hard, Tiffany turned to see General Thornton coming toward them.

  The General frowned slightly as he approached.

  “Uh, excuse me. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I wanted to personally thank you both for a job well done. And by the way, Colonel, that was an excellent speech.”

  Brady nodded. “Thank you, General.”

  Tiffany marveled that he was able to respond. She was grateful when Brady eased his arm down and held her around her waist. Although her legs were beginning to steady, she was still shaky.

  The General focused on her. “Colonel Schaefer is correct, Captain. You are a supernova. We are fortunate to have you on our team and in the active military. I hope you don’t allow this scoundrel to tempt you into following him and Gardner.”

  Confusion rushed over her and she was certain it showed on her face. She murmured, “Um, ah, no Sir. That’s not an issue, Sir.”

  The General nodded, “Good. I’m glad to hear that. Bad enough that we lost both Jake and Brady. Sure as hell would hate to lose you.”

  He turned to Brady. “Can I bend your ear for a moment, Colonel? Will you excuse us, Captain?”

  Brady frowned. “Uh, perhaps we could meet—”

  “Hell, man. This’ll just take a minute. Marty told me about the comm equipment you brought into the op. I need to know more about it.”

  Grasping Brady’s elbow, he said, “This’ll just take a moment, Brady, and then you can get back to the charming company of the Captain.”

  Brady gave him a reluctant nod and released his hold on Tiffany.

  He murmured to her as he turned to follow the General, “I’ll be right back.”

  Tiffany fled to the ladies room. She was relieved to see that she didn’t look as bad as she’d feared. Oh yes. Her eyes were dark, flashing and her cheeks were definitely pink. Her lips looked swollen, puffy. She concluded that she looked like a woman who was about to be fucked and couldn’t wait.

  She closed her eyes and leaned against the stall door until she got her breathing under control and her heart stopped pounding in her chest.

  Pulling out her phone, she punched in the number for the valet stand. By the time she captured her wrap and raced to the front door, her car was waiting.

  Chapter 8

  She hadn’t been inside five minutes when there was a knock at the door. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard.

  Brady’s voice was low, commanding.

  “Open the door, Tiffany.”

  As if her legs weren’t a part of her, Tiffany walked to the door and opened it.

  She’d expected him to be angry but he had a quirky smile on his face.

  She stood in the doorway and forced herself not to stammer.

  “What do you want?”

  “That’s an easy question to answer.” He moved inside and closed the door behind him. “I want you.”

  He waited for a moment and then added, “And I want to spend Christmas with someone I care about.”

  This time she couldn’t stop the stammer.

  “And… and that is… me?”

  His lip curled up at the corner but his eyes were dark, serious.

  “Oh yeah, darlin’, that most certainly is you.”

  He pushed by her and glanced around the room. He smiled at the Christmas tree and the decorations she forced herself to put up in her three-day hiatus from work.

  He murmured, “This is nice. It looks like you.”

  “How?”

  He smiled. “Inviting.”

  She tried to hold back her gasp, but it was useless. She was just glad she hadn’t moaned.

  Tossing his jacket on the chair, Brady glanced around the room and eyed her disc player. Rifling through a stack of CD’s, he pulled out one of her favorite Marvin Gaye albums.

  As he moved toward her, his voice was husky.

  “Don’t know about you, darlin’, but I’m about Christmas music’d out for the night.”

  At the churning sultry sound of “Let’s Get It On,” Brady grinned.

  “Oh yeah, baby. That’s much better.”

  He moved toward her and motioned for her to come to him. Holding out his arms, he asked, “May I have this dance.”

  He pulled her close to him, and murmured against the soft skin below her ear, his tongue tickling the sensitive area.

  “General Thornton interrupted us, Tiffany. And you left before we could finish our dance.”

  Her voice was breathy, ragged. “I didn’t think I could stay.”

  He ran his tongue across the seam of her lips and nipped at the corner. His voice was low, seductive.

  “Because of the way I make you feel?”

  She nodded as a rush of intoxicating pleasure bombarded her.

  “And because you knew I would come after you?”

  She swallowed, and whispered. “Yes.”

  His wicked tongue coaxed her mouth open. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and bit down.

  Clamoring sensations rioted through her and she couldn’t hold back a moan, when he murmured, “Open, darlin’. Open to me.”

  He pressed his tongue inside her mouth, at first gentle, exploring, seeking, tasting. But the heat of his breath, his hands holding her firmly in place, ratcheted up the need inside her. She clutched at him, moaning at the electric power of his kiss.

  Easing her back, he removed the orchid from her hair and placed it on the table.

  “Take your hair down, Tiffany.”

  His sultry command sent shards of excitement rioting through her. His expert fingers aided her clumsy ones as he removed the pins, releasing a cascade of shining curls. He buried his nose in the fragrant silkiness and inhaled.

  He growled, “God, baby, do you have any idea what your scent, your sexy smell does to me?”

  Weaving his hands into her hair, he tugged on it. She whimpered at the bite of pain, then gave into the flames searing through her. He pulled her head back, baring her throat to his tongue and his teeth. The spike of heat that hit her was so intense that she cried out.

  He groaned a low male sound of approval. “Oh yeah, darlin’. I’m gonna taste every part of you.”


  Holding her head between his hands, he moved to the space below her ear and began to nibble at the tender skin.

  She whimpered, “Oh God. Yes.”

  As overpowering sensations zinged across her tortured nerve endings, she tried to regain her composure, her control.

  She whispered, “How did you find me?”

  He nuzzled against her throat, licking the sensitive whorls of her ear then bit down on the lobe. At her tiny shriek, he chuckled.

  “Marty didn’t want to stand in the way of true love—and because he knew I’d break his jaw if he didn’t tell me where you lived.”

  Rubbing his hands up and down her back, he smiled when she shivered. With one expert hand he undid the top button on the back of her dress.

  Tiffany gasped as a fireball of heat streaked to her core. Oh God. He’d barely touched her.

  She whispered, “What are you doing, Brady?”

  He murmured as he undid the second button, “I’m dancing. With the sexiest, most beautiful woman in the world.”

  At her gasp, he crooned, “What are you doing, darlin’?”

  Tiffany choked out a breathy sigh. “Making a big mistake?”

  He chuckled and worked his hand down the back of her dress, slipping open one button after another until he came to her waist where the buttons ended and the zipper began.

  “Uh uh, this is as far away from a mistake as we can get. But you may be right about one thing…”

  She shivered when she heard the metal slide across the zipper and a stream of cool air hit her heated skin. Grasping his hands, holding them so he couldn’t open the dress any further, she whispered, “What… what am I right about?”

  He smiled at her. “I think we can give up the pretense of dancing. We’re done with that. We’re gonna move on—to this.”

  Removing her hands from his, he placed them on his hips. His voice was silky soft.

  “Keep your hands here, Tiffany.”