The Seduction of Lucy

by Kris Rafferty

  “Report,” Barrett said. She’d discarded her schoolmarm image and was all shark, brown eyes narrowed. Troy suspected she practiced the look, manipulating her office’s lighting to facilitate it.

  “Success,” he said. “Files secured, loss undetected.”

  “Undetected?” Barrett’s show of curiosity seemed forced. “I’ll have to take your word for that.” She arranged her teacup, saucer and plate so they were in perfect alignment. “Your satellite feed went down.”

  “Agency-wide?” Lucy sat at the edge of her seat.

  “No. Just your op.” Barrett stared at Troy, studying his expression. “And we lost two more agents. It’s been busy around here while you were gone.”

  Damn, he thought. “How did they die?”

  “How else?” Barrett slapped her desk, startling Lucy. “Incompetence! I’m surrounded by a bunch of incompetent recruits, sent out on their ops too soon or simply untrainable. It’s not fair that I’m held accountable for their failures. I’m not paid enough for this.” Troy thought her rant reeked of performance art, but wasn’t sure if it was for his or Lucy’s benefit.

  “Lucy,” Barrett said, “tell me what happened from the moment you entered the building to the moment your transport brought you and your crew to the plane.”

  Lucy did just that, deleting events rather than lying. There was no detection, no dead guards. No shooter. The crew and driver had their stories straight.

  Stalemate.

  Barrett stared over steepled fingertips. She’d never looked more maniacal, but Troy knew she was sulking. Shit rolled downhill. She was probably getting flak from the Powers That Be.

  “I shouldn’t have to take anyone’s word for anything,” she said. “But that’s the position I’m in. Not knowing definitively what happened on the op makes me vulnerable, the Agency vulnerable, and that angers me.”

  Lucy pursed her lips. “Do you think the feed was deliberately cut? I was crew leader on this op. I should have been told immediately.”

  Barrett weighed Lucy’s words and nodded. “No worries,” she said. “When we discover how it happened, believe me, you’ll be the first to know.” She made it sound like a threat.

  Lucy sat back in her chair, the image of a worried agent, and appropriately so. The intercom bleeped. Janice’s voice interrupted them.

  “I know you asked not to be disturbed, ma’am, but you’re going to need to take this call.”

  Troy saw Barrett’s eyes glaze with introspection, and then she was studying his and Lucy’s reactions to hearing she had a call she needed to take. Bingo. It wasn’t much, but it was something. There was something going on between her and the Powers That Be, and Barrett was keeping Troy in the dark.

  He and Lucy had a new target. Whoever the hell Barrett answered to was clearly involved. Unfortunately, the only ones privy to their identities—the people that financed and controlled the Agency—were Barrett and her predecessors. It was prime information, protected at all costs. He needed the bug to stay in place so he could hear what was said during this phone call.

  Barrett nodded to the door, dismissing them with a look.

  Troy left without a word, hoping Lucy hadn’t had the opportunity to retrieve the bug. He hadn’t seen her move during the meeting, so maybe luck was on their side. When they left the office, he tried to catch her eye, but she was staring straight ahead, either oblivious or purposefully avoiding his gaze.

  Janice was busy transferring the call. It occurred to him, not for the first time, that she probably knew the identities of Barrett’s bosses, but she was too great an asset to waste if he could find out by other means, so he filed the idea under Hail Mary moves and put it out of his mind.

  Once inside the elevator, Lucy hit the button for her floor, Troy his. When the doors closed, she pulled him close for a kiss. He met her halfway without hesitation, and just like that, Lucy set his body on fire and he was uncomfortably hard. She opened her mouth, and her tongue pushed the tiny audio device into the pocket of his cheek. He forced himself not to show surprise, closing his eyes as disappointment crushed him. They’d lost a prime opportunity to hear what the Powers That Be were saying to Barrett, and this kiss’s intent wasn’t passion—it was tradecraft.

  He’s been awake for twenty-four hours, but his body didn’t care. It wanted to finish what Lucy had started. The elevator doors opened. They separated. He had work to do, and his personal needs had to take a backseat to the needs of the Agency. He stepped out of the elevator, feeling her eyes bore into his back as he walked down the hall. When he heard the elevator close, he couldn’t help but look to see if she followed him to his quarters.

  He was alone in the hall, frustrated.

  * * *

  Troy woke hours later to the sound of his bedroom door opening, naked, alert, his hand curling around the Ruger he kept under his pillow. The light from the living room illuminated Lucy’s silhouette, highlighting the perfection of her long legs, her high heels, the dark trench coat she wore cinched at the waist. He propped himself on his elbow, curious and on edge. However long he’d slept, it wasn’t long enough. He felt jet-lagged and hungry. Lucy stepped next to his bed, her face in shadow.

  “Any news?” she said.

  “No.” He assumed she meant the audio device. It was still converting to digital. He’d have something to listen to in the morning.

  “I can’t sleep,” she said. “And I really need to sleep.”

  “If you get in my bed, we won’t be sleeping.” He knew himself. He knew his limits.

  Her only reaction was a slight relaxing of her shoulders.

  “Would that be so bad?” He regretted saying it the moment it left his lips. He knew how she felt about him, so yes, it was a bad thing to her. He wished it wasn’t.

  She shook her head. “There’s something wrong with me.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you, Lucy. Nothing.” He held out his hand. “Come here.”

  She hesitated, and then he saw her untie the belt. When she shrugged the trench to the floor, he was surprised to see her magnificently naked. He didn’t know what was expected of him, so he kept his hand outstretched and waited. He was so hard he hurt.

  She put her hand in his and he discovered it was trembling.

  He placed the Ruger on his side table and tugged her until she fell into his arms. Her shoes clunked to the floor, and her breasts pressed against his chest as he sought her mouth in the dark. Her hands were so cold, wild, caressing his length, running through his hair. She returned his kisses with an ardency that matched his. He couldn’t get enough of her. Her firm belly, the curve of her hip, her strength all created a frenzy in him to taste, to consume her.

  The moment they’d decided to lie to Barrett to cover their asses, they’d become a team. Their secret would bind them until death, because lies got you killed and he needed Lucy to live. He’d stopped pretending otherwise days ago. It served no purpose to hide his feelings from himself. She crushed his self-control. Her trembling destroyed him. Every catch of her breath when his lips touched hers, when he nuzzled the slope between her breasts, all destroyed him. Drawing his hand up her thigh, between her legs, burying his finger in her wetness made him insane. She was ready for him, but he wanted more than just ready. He wanted to prove this was more than a booty call, that she needed this as much as he did.

  He rolled her onto her back and rained kisses down her neck, to her breasts, licking and teasing the tips. He cupped their weight, kissed his way down her belly. She trembled for him, reaching for his arousal, trying to force him to hurry when that was the last thing he intended.

  She’d come to his quarters. This was what he wanted.

  He pinned her to the bed, forcing her to be still, and took his time. He slid down her body until he was between her thighs, kissing until she rocked against his mouth. She moaned, impatient with his deliberateness, while he kept her pinned to the sheets.

  She reached for him with her head thrown back.


  Then she lost control. Her hips arched toward him. He dragged his chest up her body, watching her realize he was dragging out the wanting. Her eyes flashed in the dark. She was angry, slapping his back, struggling to throw him. Troy laughed in her face and buried his fingers in her hair, keeping her still as he entered her mouth with his tongue, mirroring the motions she so clearly demanded of his body.

  She stilled, taking what he was willing to give, which was unusual for Lucy. He recognized the change and broke the kiss, rubbing his lips against hers and then licking, nipping at them, wondering why she sought him out. She could find sex anywhere. This had to be more than sex. Maybe Lucy didn’t hate him as much as she let on. It would be nice to think she was willing to put aside years of recriminations, if only for her sake.

  Her hands ran up the length of him, up to the arch of his back and then his shoulders. All the while, she undulated beneath him. His body tightened where her hands touched. She tempted him to take her and be done with it.

  His shoulders were taut from keeping his full weight off her and began to shake when she played with his scars. Her fingers triggered memories with every caress and flick, bouncing from one scar to the next. He kissed her again, allowing the sensations to drown his memories, his plans and anything that might stand between him and experiencing Lucy. She returned his devotion, holding onto him in such a way that made him feel precious to her. It touched him, made his hands shake as he positioned himself between her thighs and entered her, joining their bodies. He caught his breath as the sensation humbled him.

  He couldn’t remember feeling this way before and didn’t want it to end. Her tiny cry followed by stillness triggered his climax, and then he was pounding inside her, chasing the high that only Lucy could give him. He threw his head back, shouted—what, he couldn’t imagine. Her arms and legs locked around him, claiming him completely.

  When he could think again, he felt her body go limp. He rolled with her onto his back, keeping them intimately connected. He knew he should say something appropriate to the moment, but words caught in his throat. Habit and caution made it impossible to share his true feelings. And this was Lucy. She hated him for good reasons. There was a chance she’d had an agenda when she came to him tonight, even if it was only to use him as the strap for her self-flagellation.

  She pushed away, and he felt her warmth leave. It jarred him. She retrieved her coat from the floor and slipped on her shoes. He wanted her to sleep the night here but knew not to press.

  “Do you think you can sleep now?” he said.

  Other than pausing for a moment, she ignored his question. He watched her leave, angry that he didn’t have the courage to ask her to stay. His bedroom door clicked shut behind her, and without forethought, he grabbed his Ruger off the side table and put it back under his pillow. He tugged the sheet over his sensitized body, still smelling her, still wanting her.

  At least I have my answer, he thought. Lucy’s hand had trembled as she turned the doorknob to leave. This was definitely not a booty call. It was something new.

  Chapter Nine

  “Give me a second, will you?” Charlie swallowed his coffee and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Troy would have felt sorry for him, all wrinkled and bleary-eyed after a night spent in his office translating the analog bug into digital sound, but he was still mad at the tech for losing the original satellite feed.

  “Is it ready?” He closed the office door and watched Charlie activate a scrambler.

  Charlie tapped his laptop space bar, waking the computer from sleep mode. “It’s not much, but you’re not going to like it.” He started the audio.

  Barrett’s voice was clear, and she sounded tense. “Sir, I understand your concern, but my people are working around the clock trying to resolve this.” She paused, as if cut off. “No, that’s not true, sir. We’ve found an unmarked account in the Cayman Islands.” Pause. “Yes. As I said, two installments of five million dollars are sitting in an account under Lucy’s name. We’re waiting—” Pause. “No. It’s still untouched. I want to see where it will lead us. She’s going to access it at some point—” Pause. “I understand the council’s concern. Lucy left in play is a risk—” Long pause. “Threatening me serves no purpose.” Pause. “We need her alive to see—” Pause. “Right now, sir, Lucy’s our only lead to whoever is funding these attacks.” Then there was a long silence.

  Troy wanted to kick the desk, maybe release a primal scream or two, but instead he pointed to the computer. “That it?”

  Charlie’s jaw dropped. “That’s not enough? Lucy’s working against the Agency.”

  Troy would have to curb Charlie’s enthusiasm for that idea, true or not. “If that were true and you had this information and didn’t report it, you also would be canceled.” He saw Charlie understood his threat and continued with more pressing problems. “Is there anything more on the bug?”

  “They hung up on her, so no.” He sipped his hot coffee. “What are you going to do?”

  Troy leaned against the desk, wondering the same thing. “You’re going to destroy the audio. Everything. And any backup.”

  Charlie hit a button on the computer and the screen went blank. “Done. Does Lucy know you’re here?”

  “I was never here.” Troy slipped out of the office and went in search of Lucy.

  * * *

  Lucy and her crew were eating breakfast in the dining hall’s five-star accommodations. The vast restaurant had fifty tables, each covered with fine linens, with waiters scurrying like mice to keep up with the demand. It was a privilege to eat here; its mood lighting, its lush carpets, its sparkly glassware, china and silverware were perks for surviving two years or more.

  A brief siren announced another agent down. The dining hall went silent, obvious questions suppressed, dangerous emotions masked. Three days straight sirens had sounded. It was freaking everyone out, Lucy included. She wished Troy would hurry up and figure this thing out.

  Thoughts of Troy made her flush, made her think of last night. He was definitely her drug of choice. Only in his arms did she find relief from the constant fear of death. There was something wrong with her.

  Cat cut into her western omelet, her right eyelid twitching. “Anyone have an idea of who went out today?” She pushed a stray blond curl behind her ear.

  Lucy shook her head, glancing at Patrice, who was sipping coffee. “I don’t want to know.”

  Patrice’s auburn hair was down, in her face, hiding her expression. She wasn’t holding up well under the strain of the agent deaths, and that was a problem for all of them. Lucy needed Patrice to toughen up. It was one thing to be afraid. They were all afraid. Patrice had to find a way to cope and still function within the scope of the team. Lucy needed to rely on her, and she couldn’t if Patrice was paralyzed with fear.

  Phil stuffed her mouth with a chocolate croissant and then shared her opinion. “It’s not us. That’s all that matters.”

  “Until it is,” Cat said. She ate a forkful of her omelet, her gaze darting left and right, gauging the mood of the room. “It’s what everyone is thinking.”

  Lucy took a chocolate croissant off the overflowing community plate, prompting Phil to hail a waiter. “More, please.” The waiter refilled their coffees and nodded, hurrying off to find more pastries.

  Cat snorted with disgust. “Phil, you’re going to be the first fat agent in the history of this place.”

  “Looking forward to it.” Phil licked chocolate off her fingertips. “It’s not as if we have many pleasures here.” Everyone looked at Lucy with speculation. She grimaced but kept quiet, not prepared to share last night’s sexual encounter with Troy. “Sex and food. That’s about it,” Phil said.

  Cat smirked. “Still having problems with that boyfriend of yours? What did you say his name was?”

  “I didn’t. And I don’t want to talk about it.” Phil scowled into her cup, burying her fingers in her cropped hair.

  Cat cleared her throat and exchanged glances
with Phil when she got her attention. “Not to change the subject, but—”

  Phil took up where Cat left off. “Lucy, what do you think Barrett is doing about this wave of agent losses?”

  Everyone was looking at Lucy for answers. She was their crew leader, so obviously she had them. It couldn’t have been further from the truth. She shrugged and sipped her coffee.

  Cat looked disappointed and prodded again. “I’ve asked around. We’ve been losing agents across the globe. These sirens only mark when a dead agent arrives in this facility. By my count, we’ve lost 5 percent of our numbers in the last week. We’re being slaughtered.”

  That shocked Lucy. She’d had no idea deaths were happening across the board. “Be careful, Cat. Questions can get you killed.”

  She casually looked over both shoulders before meeting Lucy’s gaze. “Don’t I know it. Everything can get you killed.”

  “President Taft died because he didn’t floss,” Patrice said. Everyone stopped and looked at her as if she had two heads. She shook her hair out of her face and met their glances. “All I’m saying is we’re all going to die sometime, in the field, in our beds, so what? I don’t see what the fuss is about.”

  “Okay,” Phil said. She popped a cream puff in her mouth.

  “At this rate,” Cat said, “our numbers will halve within the month. What is Barrett doing about this?”

  “Maybe Barrett is behind this,” Phil said. “A systematic cleansing of the whole bunch of us.”

  Lucy sympathized with Phil’s suspicions. It felt good to paint Barrett as the bad guy because she was someone they felt comfortable demonizing, but Troy was right. No motive. Other than wishing it were true, there was no evidence against her. Clues screamed Agency shooters, but there was dead silence on who was controlling them. Maybe the information Troy got from the bug would give them something to go on. She hoped so, because they had squat now, and people were still dying.