Carnevale and Subterfuge
Page 13
Something didn’t feel right. Pausing, she gazed at the deep red bud. It wasn’t pierced. Disappointment sliced through her but didn’t stop her.
“I’m sorry, cara. Had to take them out,” he said.
“Later. We’ll talk later.” She moved up and down over him, riding him harder. With each down stroke, her clit scraped against his abdomen, setting off sparks, increasing the desire.
Diego growled as his hips moved faster. His cock stroked over that secret spot inside of her that set off small fireworks and shivers of pleasure through her body. She fought with herself as her orgasm grew, twining and curling in on itself as the desire grew.
“Yes, faster. I want you to come.” Diego kissed her shoulder. She pressed her mouth to his as she moved closer. Her nipples rubbed against his chest. Each brush sent shards of electricity to her clit.
Ana’s orgasm expanded, growing until the pleasure overwhelmed her. She stood on the precipice ready to come. All she needed was one little push. Ana slid a hand into Diego’s hair and pulled his head up. She stared into his eyes, seeing desire and need burning in the olive green depths. The sight took her breath away.
She tightened her hold around his thighs and rode him faster as they watched each other. So many emotions flitted across his face. There was need, want, regret, desire and affection. The world narrowed to just the two of them. Everything faded away and all that mattered was them.
Not breaking eye contact, she took kiss after kiss, pouring every ounce of her feelings into each bit of contact. The pleasure continued to well up inside of her. The first tremor of her climax ran through her, then another and another until she came with a cry.
His lips swallowed her exclamation as he continued to thrust into her, driving her into another orgasm as liquid heat slid into her veins and wave after wave of pleasure rushed over her.
“Diego,” she said, as yet another climax rocked her.
He stared at her, gaze softening. His eyelids lowered until all she could see was green glittering behind a fan of golden brown. His cock pulsed inside of her. The thick shaft jerked and expanded, pressing against her sensitive vaginal walls.
He came, crying out her name, but not once did he look away. Once more she climaxed, riding the wave with him until her body floated down. As muscles jumped and twitched and the sweat cooled, she remained seated on him.
Time stretched on as they looked at each other. She saw him in a new light. Her heart expanded in her chest. The gentle caress of his breath against her lips made her mouth burn. Goose flesh rose on her arms.
The moment continued on as they both calmed. As she sank into his gaze, he seemed more open to her. Each layer of his disguise peeled away to reveal a good man—strong, smart, loyal, thoughtful and caring. He was a treasure she wanted to keep with her always. Pain lanced her chest at the thought of having to give him up. She wanted to look away but couldn’t. The hot trail of tears slipped over her cheeks to mingle with her sweat.
“Sempre, Anarrae. Sempre,” he said, before breaking the moment with a single kiss. “Now we sleep.”
Chapter Eleven
Sleep eluded Diego. The day crashed into him. His mind continued to turn over everything that had happened.
Despite Ana’s presence by his side, uneasiness shot through him. He tilted his head upward. His gaze snagged on the gray ceilings that were prevalent throughout the ship and he shuddered.
A sense of the room closing in on him caused gooseflesh to rise on his bare arms. For a moment, breathing became difficult. During the panic he reached out. His hand made contact with Ana’s arm. Not even that calmed him.
What the hell was he doing? Why was he even thinking about staying on this ship? He was a wanted criminal. It didn’t matter what the ambassador promised him. A con artist is a con artist, regardless of where he want or what he did. He could become President of the United Planets of Neve Four and still be a con.
In a flash, he realized that this could all be a setup, that he may have walked straight into a trap.
“I’m in need of gondolier to guide me tonight.” Why had she said that to him and not someone else?
He replayed the evening in his head. Everything had started with a call from a “friend” who wanted to meet at the pub. That friend hadn’t shown up, so he had gone up to the bar for a drink. Diego hadn’t gone to his usual spot in the dark corner of the pub with his back to the wall and eyes on the door. Instead, he’d spied Ana and became interested. He’d only wanted a peek.
When she’d asked him about being a gondolier or guide of the sexual kind he’d been put off. To him, women—no matter how gorgeous they were—who were looking for a gondolier, were trouble that he didn’t want. Besides, gondoliers were scum. They may be suave and smooth, but they don’t care about the women. To think about his Anarrae going to one of those Lotharios for pleasure made him physically ill.
The panic he had was a dull pulse in the back of his mind, reminding him that if he was truly caught, there would be nowhere he could run except out into the freezing, airless arms of space. A cold sweat broke out over his forehead and upper lip. Needing to move, he threw off the blanket and began to pace while his mind worked over his first encounter with Ana.
Why had she thought he was a gondolier? He examined the room in his memory. There weren’t a lot of partiers. In fact, only one or two people were wearing masks. One of them was a man in drag. The other was a woman wearing the best use of tape and ribbon he’d ever seen. Other than that, there was nothing unusual except for his friend’s absence.
Diego paused. That day he’d chosen to wear all black, play up the rogue image. A quick itinerary of his outfit didn’t make him think anything was out of place, although he was the only one with a feathered mask.
A glance over at Ana reassured him that she was sleeping. He loathed waking her up, but there were gaps that needed to be filled in. With a heavy heart and a sigh, he sat on her side of the bed and shook her shoulder.
“Diego?”
Her sleep-roughened voice sent a shiver through him, trailed by the heat of arousal. For a moment he was caught in exquisite pleasure, remembering the tight embrace of her pussy around his cock as she’d fucked herself on him. Focus.
“Ana, how did you know to approach me that night at the pub? Why did you think I would be a gondolier? It’s urgent.” The quicker he got an answer the faster they could return to bed.
She blinked a few times before her eyes settled on him. “I was told that my gondolier would be wearing all black with a black, feathered mask.”
A chill speared Diego. His heart stuttered. “I told him I’d be wearing all black. OK, go to sleep now, sweet. I just needed an answer to something.”
Ana yawned and fell back to the bed, eyes closed.
Shit! Diego got up from the bed and began to pace. It was looking more and more like he’d been set up. The question was why. The world became divided between what he knew and what he didn’t. The fact that he’d been fooled at all shook him to the core. The facts became puzzle pieces that didn’t fit together, no matter how much he tried to jam them into the slots.
On the surface everything looked so perfect. It had seemed to be kismet that he’d met her at the bar. Now, he could see he’d been set up to be the mark. Like a caged Delphinian tiger, he paced the room. The answers didn’t come. The movement only reminded him that he was on a ship in space. There weren’t a lot of places he could go to get the freedom he needed.
So instead, he dropped to the floor, folded his legs Indian style, and closed his eyes. Taking slow, deep breaths, in through his nose and out through his mouth, he allowed the chaos of his mind to rush over him and tried to find his center.
Darkness fell around him as the world became dull sounds. Just hearing Ana’s gentle breathing tempered the storm inside of him as he searched for the elusive thread that would help him find his way through to truth. Stillness slipped through his fingertips and toes, up his arms and legs, and settled in his chest.
Awareness of his surroundings sharpened as noises he hadn’t noticed before slipped through: the ship’s creak as it settled and the dull whoosh of air from the vents overhead. Instead of making him feel closed in the sounds soothed him. His thoughts stopped chasing each other. They became separate streams of sense. He was able to pick one and examine it, turning it over and over until he gleaned what he could from it before putting it back to choose another one.
He worked forward from the point when he had been contacted by his friend, piecing together what he could. There were still massive gaps, but it was now clear he had been set up, they both had.
Ana had been set up from the start. He could only assume it had been the prossy request that had put her on their radar. As for himself, Diego could see he’d become too complacent. If Riktor could see him now the man would beat him first and then laugh later. Always be on your guard. Always.
The people had an idea that he would be asked to pose as the ambassador, but why?
Diego smacked himself in the head as an idea formed. If he was discovered, people would think he had killed the man and taken his identity to escape prosecution, especially if the real ambassador ended up dead and he was found with the body.
But why go after Ana? The break-in from earlier didn’t put him at ease at all. It was one of the threads that didn’t seem to go anywhere. Unless it wasn’t meant to. Perhaps Ana was just a distraction.
Diego’s eyes flew open and he was on his feet in a flash. What if there wasn’t just one assassin? What if there were several? He turned his thoughts toward what the ambassador had wanted to accomplish on Veritas 10. He’d spoken of corruption and abuse of power. Could there be more to it than just that? Of course there was more, otherwise people wouldn’t be attacking him and Ana. Riktor had always said to follow the money. With that idea in mind, Diego grabbed his AI wristband and plugged into it.
“You’re naked.” The AI’s voice actually sounded sleepy.
“Not important right now. I need help.”
“What?”
Diego explained the situation and let the AI get to work. A glance toward the bed showed that Ana was still asleep, much to his relief. He unplugged the wristband from his port and headed for the shower. After a quick wash, he checked with the AI.
“Here are the results. So far there are ten cases of corruption that we know of. Five have been prosecuted and jailed, and the other five are awaiting their fate. I don’t think the ambassador was talking about them, so it must be someone who hasn’t gotten caught yet. A bigger fish so to speak.”
Diego’s thoughts rolled over in his mind as he got dressed. There were angles he knew he was missing, things that didn’t make sense.
Another glance at the bed revealed Ana up and awake. She held the sheets to her chest but he could see the tips of her nipples pressing against the cloth clearly. He groaned silently, wishing to pull away the covering and lap the tightened buds before sucking them into his mouth. His cock became semi-hard, pressing against his fly. She pushed some hair away from her face and stared at him. Dark brown eyes were pools of mystery and heat. Her free hand grabbed a handful of sheet as confusion skittered across her face.
“You’re leaving.” Her eyes widened in confusion.
Diego couldn’t leave her alone and uncertain. He strode across the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ve been thinking. Things don’t add up. I need clarity and I can’t get that here, sitting in this room going crazy.” He reached up and caressed her cheek. Slivers of heat raced up his arm when she turned her face toward his palm and kissed it.
“Can I help? Can I come with you? I’ve been pulled into this too. I need answers as well.” Her gaze beseeched him to allow her to help.
For a moment he was torn between keeping her safe and insisting she stay here.
“Please,” Ana said. “Let me help you figure this out.”
The silent demand in her eyes was Diego’s undoing. He knew that Ana deserved to know. He nodded his head. “Fine, but you must promise discretion.”
“Of course.” She gave him a winning smile.
“Good. Shower and get dressed. Quickly please, or I’ll be joining you in that bed.” Diego laughed when she scrambled out from under the covers. “You hurrying makes me think the sex wasn’t good.”
“No. It was fantastic. But the sooner we’re done with this, the sooner we get back into bed.” She turned her head and looked at him from over her shoulder. She gave him a saucy wink that made his body heat and arousal to churn in his groin all over again.
Diego grinned. “I love the way your mind works. Hurry, cara, hurry. We may not make it to bed if you don’t get to the shower faster.”
She ran to the bathroom. The door whooshed closed behind her. While she was showering, Diego put in a call to Roberto with his wrist com. His brother appeared at the door, hair sticking up in all directions, clothing wrinkled and a cross look on his face.
“What?” Roberto said.
Diego hid a chuckle at how gruff Roberto’s voice sounded.
“Disturbed you, did I? I need to see the ambassador. Ana’s coming with. She won’t stay behind. Can you get word for him to prepare for our arrival?”
“Yeah. Give me a few minutes…and next time more notice. I was having an excellent dream.”
“I won’t ask.”
“Good,” Roberto said as the door swished shut behind him.
* * *
Pain shot through every muscle and tendon. Morrigan’s limbs were on fire. Even her fingertips and toes hurt. She rolled her shoulders and winced at the ache she found there. So far the mission was a failure.
The pigeon hadn’t led her to the real ambassador, and the imposter was proving to be a stumbling block. He’d had the crew tested for the C-plus blood enzyme, which had put a damper on her plans to walk around the ship freely. She couldn’t do that without being asked if she’d been to the med deck yet. The fewer bodies to be found, the better chances for her success.
Lt. Froggie had also proved an unwise move. Her sensors had short circuited, and her rage blocker had failed. Instead of taking Anarrae to a more private place for questioning, Morrigan had almost killed her. Becoming Pio also proved to be a bust as he didn’t know anything.
Morrigan walked over to the corner of the small storage closet and dragged out a compact machine no bigger than a backpack. She hit a few buttons and watched it light up, coming out of hibernation.
“Is it working properly?”
“Yeah, just needs some time to recharge. Time for you two to go back.”
“But we’re getting close. I can tell.”
Morrigan straightened up to look at her clones. In the dimness of the overhead light she saw her mirror image right down to the scarred half of her face. Dark brown spirals formed a chaotic halo around an oval face with brown, almond-shaped eyes framed by dark lashes, a crooked nose and a full, rosebud mouth. The skintight black bio-suit hugged every curve, showing a lithe body conditioned for fighting. Small red censors on the cloth blinked on and off showing low power.
Movement to her left drew her attention to the other clone. Both the creatures gazed at her, determination in their eyes.
Morrigan shook her head and sighed. “No. You’re low on power, both of you are. We don’t have time for this. The ambassador must be eliminated. It’s our job…our last one.”
They looked rebellious for a second, ready to override her and take control of the mission. Instead, they nodded, shoulders slumping, eyes downcast. Morrigan leaned over and hit a button the machine, watching as her clones faded out of existence.
Once she was alone, Morrigan let her shoulders drop. Tears clouded her vision. Weariness tugged her limbs down. Her legs shook with effort. The past seventy-two hours had been spent running around trying to catch the a
mbassador. So much energy had been expended. She barely had enough in her to change her appearance one more time, but she had to in order to leave the storage closet.
“So tired,” she said. “So fucking tired. This needs to be over.”
With the last vestiges of her strength, she shifted her appearance one last time. Once out of the storage area, she caught sight of her image in the shiny black surface of the ship map—hazel eyes and wild, dark-chocolate hair shot through with varying shades of brown. The uniform of an officer of the Hades’ Helmet fit snuggly around Tigress’s more abundant curves.
Satisfied the mimic had gone smoothly, she headed for the Chief of Security’s quarters. Once inside the small space, she headed straight for the closet. The real Tigress struggled against her bonds. Anger had darkened her eyes to a stormy green. Morrigan dug into her pocket and pulled out a syringe.
“I can’t afford to kill you. So for now, you’ll just have to sleep. Once I’m done, the cuffs will be released, and you’ll be no worse the wear.” She tried to smile but couldn’t. The emotion of compassion had been stamped out of her under the heel of a boot. Morrigan couldn’t feel any emotion other than the sweet numbness of the chemicals pumping through her system. “Good night, Tigress. I do apologize.”
She wasn’t sure why she’d tagged on that last part, but she let it be as she stuck the needle into Tigress’s arm. The Chief of Security struggled until her movements faded into nothing. Only her gentle breathing could be heard, muffled by the gag.
Satisfied that her captive wouldn’t give her anymore trouble, Morrigan headed for the computer console and brought up her mission specs. The official government seal at the top of the page assured her it was a sanctioned mission, an order for the death of the ambassador from Il Doge. The usual cautions about what was permitted and what was forbidden were attached before the signature at the end, making everything official.
Morrigan read the name again on the bottom. Anton N. Cessiro, Minister of Defense. From her research, she knew that Anton was the ambassador’s brother. The reasons for the order weren’t her concern. She only knew that the ambassador had been one of the reasons the Chameleon Cyborg program had ended without explanation or warning.