A Necessary Deception

by Lucy Farago

  “Do you really think we’ll need them?”

  He didn’t but believed keeping her busy was better than having her climb the walls. “Better safe than sorry.” He maneuvered his bad leg to the floor and used his good one to stand.

  “We should change the burn pad soon.”

  He should point out that he could do it by himself. He didn’t. “When I get back.” Limping far more than he should have, he headed for the control room. He needed to be careful. He didn’t want to piss God off too much.

  * * * *

  He found her a short time later in one of the supply rooms, trying to stuff a travel-size toothpaste into an overfilled, small survival pack. He had news to tell her, but she looked so cute struggling to do the impossible, he didn’t want to disturb her.

  She finally gave up. Noticing him, she bent down and withdrew a palm-size plastic disk from one of the boxes.

  “Hey, what’s this?” She held it up.

  “That’s a whizcup.”

  “A whizcup?” Taylor flipped it between her fingers to examine it more closely. “What’s it used for?”

  “It’s a collapsible…potty cup.”

  She flung it across the room. It landed by his feet. “Ew. What’s wrong with a toilet?”

  “Cars don’t have toilets,” he said, her disgusted expression testing his restraint. But the look on her face was too much for him and he started to laugh. If his teasing wasn’t sexual, would God still want to strike him down?

  “You’re an asshole.”

  “So I’ve been told. It’s a cup.” He bent down to retrieve it and removed the plastic, then pulled each ring apart to show her. “For drinking.”

  She shot him a look of impending doom and reached for the cup.

  He couldn’t resist. “Mostly.”

  She dropped her hand and scowled. “Such an asshole.”

  He kissed her cheek. “You make it too easy.”

  “I wish I was sleeping with you,” she said, causing him to nearly bite his tongue.

  “What?” Maybe he’d heard wrong. Considering how much he’d been thinking about it, wouldn’t surprise him if he imagined those words coming out of her mouth.

  “I said, I wish I was sleeping with you.” She picked up the full emergency packs and headed for the door, leaving him speechless.

  If he’d known all he had to do was—

  She turned. “That way I could cut you off for being such a dick.” Then she sauntered off.

  He smiled. Sure, he’d have liked her to have been serious, but he loved her comebacks. He went after her. “Hey,” he called out. “You’re going the wrong way.”

  “Oh, no,” she said over her shoulder. “I’m going to go soak in the hot spring…naked.” She sashayed down the tunnel, the lantern swinging back and forth. “And you’re not invited,” she hollered back.

  Now she was teasing him. Right? Would it be wrong to give her enough time to get naked before following her? He sat on one of the sturdier boxes to contemplate his dilemma. He could soak his leg. Or he could be a gentleman and leave her alone. She was probably trying to get back at him and had no intention of stripping naked. He shifted the seam of his pants off his groin. He was just torturing himself with the image of Taylor in the hot spring. He could see her hair spilling off her shoulders, floating around her, the warm water caressing the skin he’d dreamed about. This was stupid. He stood. Then sat. She was kidding. She had to be kidding. She would know he’d follow. He stood again. She would know he’d follow. That was as good an invitation as any.

  It took him a few minutes to reach the grotto…and not because he was moving slow on purpose. When he saw her, he told himself he should be ashamed of how disappointed he was. But he didn’t really listen. She was a beautiful woman and he a healthy—relatively healthy—male.

  She’d taken off her fleece, rolled up her black cargos, and was dangling her feet inside the natural rock lagoon. When left alone, nature could create all kinds of underground pools. They’d done very little to the formation other than add pipes. “How is it?”

  “Better than anything I ever dished out a lot of my inheritance for.”

  It was funny. He had a hard time correlating that Taylor with the one he knew. “You know, if you want to go in, I promise to leave you alone.”

  “Said the wolf.”

  “I’m serious.” Maybe.

  “Later. What’s that?” She leaned back and pointed behind a natural-forming stone wall. “There’s a hole, and I was kind of hoping mice were the only thing I needed to worry about. I don’t want any R.O.U.S.s,” she used air quotes, “coming to bite me.”

  “Why do I think I should know that?”

  “What?” she said with an appalled wave of her hand. “You don’t know Rodents of Unusual Size? Such a pedestrian.”

  “Let me guess. Chick flick?”

  “Princess Bride has a mega cult following. It’s a classic.”

  “Oh, wait. I know this.” He rubbed his chin, trying to remember. “‘Hello,’” he said in an awful Hispanic accent “‘my name is something, something. You killed my father, prepare to die.’”

  She laughed. “Something like that. Did you see the movie?”

  “Nah. One of the guys likes to torment Ryan with that line. And I’ve never seen anything scary come out of that hole except TNT’s ugly face. There’s another cavern behind there somewhere.”

  “For real?”

  “Nearest we can tell.”

  “You don’t know?” Shooting a glance toward the hidden hole, she edged closer to him.

  “When anyone is up here, time is limited. T has done some exploring on his own and he mapped it out. It’s twenty feet before you hit the next opening. I think his intention was to blow out more rooms. No one wanted to risk the mountain coming down on us, so he got vetoed.” According to what he’d discovered, there wasn’t a shortage of caves.

  “There could be more caves?” she asked, her disgusted expression comical .

  “Oh, there are caves. I just don’t know where they all lead. Getting lost wouldn’t be fun.”

  “I’m not the spelunking kind either. Didn’t you say this water was good for you knee? Maybe we should put you inside,” said the claustrophobic woman changing the subject.

  Her fear was more intense than he’d thought if the idea of dark caves upset her. “My friends swear the sulfur has great healing properties, but I’ll stick to good old-fashioned medicine.” He wasn’t a spa kind of guy. “And it would sting like a bitch.”

  She slid aside the emergency packs and patted the rock ledge just behind her. “Sit and you can explain exactly how a bitch stings, after you tell me what you found in my files. Are they trafficking women?”

  Moving forward and using the wall for support, he lowered himself onto the slab of rock. “Unfortunately, but women aren’t their only victims.”

  “Men?”

  “Men can be used for slave labor too. Scum don’t discriminate. Over a million people are sold into servitude every year. The total for any given time is mind-boggling…and heartbreaking.”

  “Tell me.”

  He wasn’t sure he should, but the problem was overwhelming, and maybe the more people knew about it, the more it could be stopped. “Thirty million.”

  Her mouth fell open. “I don’t understand,” she said, her voice breaking. “How? Does no one notice they’re missing? Why don’t the police do something?”

  “You really want me to explain it to you? It’s not a foot-soaking kind of conversation.”

  She went to lift her legs, but he put a hand on her shoulder and held her down. “I didn’t mean for you to get out. Stay.”

  Her back stiffened. A few minutes ago, he might have been offended, but he knew this wasn’t from his touch but her bracing herself for the ugly truth.

&n
bsp; “Tell me,” she repeated.

  He didn’t like upsetting her, but she seemed determined to know, and he admired that. Too often, the opposite was the norm. “Let’s start with the definition. You thought human trafficking involved selling women for sex exploitation, and you were correct. But it also involves forced labor, and men…and children.”

  Her horrified face nearly stopped him, but he was certain Taylor was made of stronger stuff. “They target people desperate for a new life, in poor countries that can’t employee or feed their population. That’s how the Russian mob grew to be so powerful. When the Soviet Union collapsed, chaos ensued, and it left a void. A population that was once guaranteed employment and security was no more. The mob took on the role of the KGB and infiltrated the government. Easy to do, considering some were already there. That’s one of the reasons why it’s so hard to stop human trafficking in Russia.”

  “Crooked politicians?”

  “And everyone knows it. People will do anything to feed themselves or their children. Some are tricked. They answer an ad for employment in a new country that promises a better life. Their flights are paid for and they’re fooled into giving up their passports. Then they’re told they have to work off the cost incurred for their transportation and anything else the captors come up with. Anyone who refuses to cooperate is threatened, beaten, and…even sexually assaulted. They’re trapped, and the only way to survive is to comply.”

  “Bastards.”

  “Worse,” he agreed. “Some use children. The whole thing is disgusting.”

  “And sad. Terribly sad,” she said, rubbing her eyes.

  It was sad, but he didn’t like seeing her sad, and again he was tempted to stop. He maneuvered himself to straddle her. She watched him over her shoulder, and when she realized what his intention was, she leaned into him and allowed him to massage the tightness in her neck.

  “There are those that knowingly volunteer. Those sweatshops everyone protests, they aren’t all cheap labor.”

  Her muscles contracted beneath his touch. “Oh my God. I never… I mean, I knew, but I didn’t. I assumed if they wanted to leave they could. Why don’t people know about this?”

  “People hear what they want to hear. If I were to show you a sweatshop, would you be able to pick out those who get measly pay and those being forced under the threat of violence? And if you were to liberate them, many have nothing to go home to, so they stay of their own accord. At least they’re fed. But don’t think this abuse is restricted to countries looking for cheap labor. There’s as high a demand for Slavic women in the United States and Europe as there is in Asia.”

  “You don’t mean sweatshops, do you?”

  “No.” The sex trade was big money.

  “I don’t understand. Is it the threat of violence that keeps these women from leaving?”

  “Remember, it’s not just women.”

  “I think I’m going to puke.”

  He leaned in and kissed the top of her head. “You want me to stop?”

  “No, ignorance isn’t bliss.”

  His admiration for her was growing and he had to warn himself. Wanting her in his bed was one thing; liking her too much, another. “They often get them hooked on drugs, or they take pictures and threaten to show their families. They were lured away with a promise of a new life, a good job, even the prospect of finding a rich husband. And they’ve seen it. Many families have foreign nannies, and there are those guys that marry uneducated, impoverished women. When they answer the ads, poor families unknowingly give their blessing. They can also be given enough money to send home. Some feel they have no choice but to stay.”

  “What can we do to stop them?”

  “You want to shut down the Russian mob? Get in line.” With his thumb, he circled a particularly tight knot just below her neck. For the briefest of seconds, his hands stalled on her soft moan. When she tipped her head to give him better access, he had an insane urge to bite the delicate skin.

  “Are you saying there’s nothing we can do?”

  “No. We can give the FBI the information.” It wouldn’t shut them down. They’d just find another server to piggyback on to. Now, what the feds did with the info was anyone’s guess. Would they search every dating site on the internet? Maybe, maybe not. But the Russians had a bigger problem than just being discovered. They’d hijacked her server a few years ago, maybe from the day of its conception. And gotten away with it. If what he suspected was true, none of their customers had bothered to hide their IP addresses. And there were plenty. Did they know she’d made a backup? Or was she being hunted for another reason? That was the real question.

  “The whole thing is depressing.” She blew out a heavy breath. “Monty?”

  “Taylor?”

  “Would you mind going a little to the left?”

  He grinned. “Sure. Does it feel good?” He could think of a few other things that would make her feel better, make them feel a whole lot better.

  “Mmm. I didn’t realize how…” she moaned, “tight I was. You’ll have to allow me to…oh, God,” her head dropped, “…reciprocate. I give great…wow, that’s heaven. I’m really good at…oh, yes. You know you should do this professionally. You’d make a fortune with those hands.”

  And if she didn’t start finishing her sentences, he’d either have to get looser-fitting pants or embarrass himself. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

  She giggled. “Go figure; the best massage of my life is in an underground cave in an Alaskan mountain.”

  He pressed his face next to hers, so wishing they were horizontal. “Yeah?” he said, sneaking a little peek down her top. She had nice breasts. Just the right size to fill his hands.

  “Definitely. You should let me do you. Unless you’ve got a thing about girls touching you.”

  Monty quirked an eyebrow. “Taylor?”

  “Monty?”

  He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Are you deliberately trying to…get a rise out of me?”

  “Is it working?”

  He wasn’t exactly sure how to reply to that. Did he allow this dangerous game to continue? Or did he take it to the next level and just fucking kiss her? He turned her face and opted for action.

  Chapter 15

  Taylor understood the risks. There was no such thing as harmless flirtation between two people obviously attracted to each other, and their exchanges had been far from innocent. So, it was simply a matter of whether they acted on it or not. Now, however, she’d poked the bear and the bear had poked back. His mouth covered hers in a kiss that would make the spring boil. She shoved her fingers into his short hair and drew him closer. Teeth collided, tongues warred as the game played to a crescendo of epic proportions. Unless she’d read him wrong, they were going to sleep together.

  The new her, the one who’d decided to turn her back on the life she’d been raised in, wouldn’t do this. She was responsible. Although she’d never been as free-living and as wild as some of her socialite friends, this new her had learned life needed to be savoured, not gulped down in one hedonistic adventure after another. But Monty’s mouth and the avalanche of need that rolled off him was most definitely an epicurean delight. She’d be a fool to pass up what he offered. She opened her own Pandora’s box and released the part of her she’d stowed away, thinking she’d never see that side of herself again.

  She wasn’t sure how or when they’d ended up in the water, only that a wet T-shirt was being tugged over her head and then smacked against the stone ledge. Momentarily dazed, she blinked, only to close her eyes when Monty picked her up to straddle him as he pinned her against the wall to make a meal of her neck. The man could kiss like there was no tomorrow. And the prominent bulge pushing against her core made her shiver in anticipation as the rhythmic dance between a man and a woman began to play out. He dropped his head and licked the swell of one bre
ast, exposed from beneath her bra. Then his hips slapped against her, causing waves of warm water to lap at her skin. It was nice. More than nice. And yet not enough.

  “You’re wearing too many clothes,” she said.

  “So are you.”

  It was then she remembered. “Your leg.” What had she done? Had she dragged him?

  “It’s fine,” he assured her, holding her firmly against the wall so she couldn’t climb down.

  Was he lying? “It’s a burn. What happened to stinging like a bitch?” She was fairly certain she didn’t want to cause him more pain, but his grinding was screwing with her thought process.

  “It’s fine,” he repeated. “But you know what? You’ll have to help me take off my pants. You think you can do that?” he said against her mouth.

  Right now, she’d do anything he wanted her to. She nodded, and he swam back, allowing her to float off his hips. She was about to see him naked, and if the one part she’d hadn’t seen was as fine as the parts she had, putting space between them was worth it. She was surprised to realize that although the water reached over her breast, her feet touched bottom.

  He changed positions with her and used the ledge to brace his arms. “Shoes too,” he said. His laugh was husky and sexy. “Guess I wasn’t thinking when I jumped in.”

  She wiggled her toes in her own submerged socked feet. Knowing this had been his idea made it better. “Let your legs float.”

  He did, and she removed first one boot and sock, then the other. Along with his long-sleeved crewneck, everything joined her T-shirt. Then she stepped between his thighs and popped the button on his cargos.

  “This is going to be…” With a shake of his head, he grinned. “I was going to say hard, but I think we’re beyond the games.”

  She kind of liked the games, but he was right; playtime was over. She quirked her mouth to the side and stared at his crotch, trying to decide how to go about this. His underwear would need to come off at the same time. Which meant with the height of the pool and his floating, when he was naked, she’d be face-to-face with one spectacular view. But as much as she liked where she was standing, he’d have to close his legs or she’d never be able to pry his pants off his hips. Regrettably, she moved to his side, catching sight of his well-defined arms as they draped the ledge. A man who claimed to spend his days with computers shouldn’t have nice muscles. So, either he was faithful to his workouts or women were missing out by not dating self-proclaimed nerds. “Can you get your fingers into that crevice by your right?” When she tugged, he’d have to have something to hang on to.