by Zara Chase
“What’s going on?”
Hospital security belatedly streamed into the room, closely followed by Sanford, who appeared both harried and horrified. He checked Romney for himself, then started barking orders to his hovering underlings.
“You were lucky, Cantara,” Sanford said grimly when Romney, unconscious and with a drip attached to his arm, was gurneyed from the room.
“I’m calling the sheriff,” Zeke said, watching him go and pulling his cell phone from his pocket. “He can’t be allowed to leave.”
“He won’t be going anywhere,” Sanford replied. “Whatever he was trying to inject Cantara with, some of it got into his system when he fell on the needle and it pierced his skin. His weight on the syringe itself must have somehow forced the liquid into him.”
“Not enough if he’s still alive,” Zeke groused.
“We’re running some tests to identify what it was so we can treat him.”
“Strychnine is my guess,” Raoul said, scowling. “Bastard! How the hell did he get in here without anyone noticing?”
“It’s not a prison. People come and go all the time. Staff rotate.” Sanford sounded defensive. “I probably shouldn’t say anything more and refer you to our legal people, just in case you decide to sue the hospital for which, off the record, I wouldn’t blame you.”
“You’re safe. We deal with our problems our way,” Zeke replied, his tone silk on steel, as he hung up on the local sheriff. “But you might wanna adjust your bill, seeing as how—”
“Zeke!” Cantara punched his arm. “It’s not Dr. Sanford’s fault.”
“Hmm,” was Raoul’s only response.
“Come on, guys,” Cantara said. “Take me home. We’re expecting visitors this afternoon, don’t forget, and I can’t wait to help Levi clear his name.”
“After you’ve had your scan,” Raoul replied, brushing his knuckles softly down the side of her face. “That’s what we came here to do and that low life ain’t gonna stop us.”
Chapter Sixteen
An hour later they were back in the truck. Cantara finally had her scan, but Raoul and Zeke refused to wait outside the room or leave her alone for a single second. Cantara wouldn’t admit it but she was grateful for their protectiveness. The incident with Romney had shaken her badly, probably because she wasn’t firing on all cylinders again quite yet. She felt cold, in spite of the warmth of the day, and was forced to lace her fingers together in her lap so the guys couldn’t see her hands shaking and worry about her more than they already did.
“At least Romney’s under guard,” Zeke said with satisfaction. “I’ve given Parker a call. He’s sending people to pick him up.”
“That I would pay good money to see,” Raoul replied.
“No need. This one’s on the house.” Zeke slid an arm around Cantara and kissed her hair. She gratefully rested her head on his broad shoulder and closed her eyes as tiredness seeped through her. “You okay, darlin’?” he asked.
“I’ve had better days,” she replied, still with her eyes closed. “But at least we got the bad guy and the danger’s gone.”
“Yeah,” Raoul replied from behind the wheel. “It’s finally over.”
“We should have anticipated that Romney would pitch up here,” Zeke growled. “We left you exposed again, darlin’. That ain’t acceptable.”
“What he said,” Raoul added, grimacing. “We’re the ones who put it about that Cantara had regained her memory. We didn’t stop to think that Romney would have time to come up with a plan to ambush her and expect to get away with it.”
“He might have done,” Cantara said, shuddering. “If he’d injected me and I collapsed, everyone would assume it was something to do with my treatment. Some allergic reaction, or something like that. By the time the truth came out, he would have been long gone.”
“Even so, we thought he would be more likely to do a runner,” Zeke said.
“Good job I’ve had practice kneeing men in the balls.”
Cantara’s comment earned her scowls from Raoul and Zeke and her attempt to lighten the mood fell flat.
“What will happen to Pool and Romney?” Cantara asked.
“None of this will come out,” Zeke warned her. “You need to be ready for that. It would be a disaster for Israeli-American relations, and would spell disaster for the negotiations with the Palestinians.”
“That’s not fair!”
“No, darlin’, it ain’t,” Raoul agreed, squeezing her shoulders. “But it’s why Parker was so closely involved. I always suspected he knew more than he was letting on, and he was here to make sure none of it got into the public domain.”
Cantara widened her eyes. “He knew Levi wasn’t the traitor?”
“He probably suspected it,” Zeke replied. “And once you resurfaced, it was just a matter of waiting to see if you regained your memory, and what shook loose. Course, they didn’t count on Levi showing himself, which could have been a bit awkward if Parker hadn’t been around to smooth ruffled feathers.”
“Pool and Romney, at best, will get dishonorable discharges on some pretext or other,” Raoul said, curling his upper lip in evident disdain.
“They deserve way worse than that,” Cantara protested.
“For Pool, nothing could be worse,” Zeke assured her. “His reputation will be in tatters, his old comrades will shun him, and that will be a living death for him. As for Romney, I imagine Pool’s daughter will finally see the light and ditch the bastard. I have a feeling they’ll find a reason to lock him up for a while, too.”
“Anyway, it’s over.” Raoul sent Cantara a sinfully enticing smile that left her in no doubt about the nature of his thoughts. “At last we can get on with our lives.”
Cantara closed her eyes and sighed. “It was so lovely to see Levi after he spoke with his wife. Only to think, she never doubted him, even though she hadn’t seen or spoken to him for three years. Can you imagine the stigma she’s had to live with, but she never gave up on him. That’s true love.”
“There’s nothing you can teach us about true love,” Raoul said in a tone that brooked no argument. “We never stopped loving you, even though we thought you were dead.”
“We tried to move on with our lives, but you’re an impossible act to follow,” Zeke added, swooping in to steal a kiss.
“You guys are so sweet.” Cantara swiped away tears with the back of her hand. “For my part, I don’t care what Sanford says, but no one can convince me I lost my memory because of a stupid fractured skull. I lost it when I saw that picture of you guys dead. It was too much for me to take on board, I couldn’t stand the agony of losing something so precious to me, to say nothing of the guilt, so my mind shut down.”
“Tonight we start living again,” Raoul said, tightening his hold on her and kissing the top of her head. “Come on, darlin’, you look beat. I’m gonna run you a nice hot bath. Take a long soak and when you come out, Zeke and I will have a celebration dinner ready.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
“I’ll leave the clothes you’re to wear for us laid out on the bed,” Zeke added. “We don’t expect to see you again for an hour and a half.”
She moistened her lips and smiled at each of them in turn. “Whatever you say, gentlemen. I know better than to argue with you.”
Zeke choked on a laugh. “Is that so?”
“Of course,” she replied innocently. “But before we get down to playing, I need to know what I can do to help you guys around here.”
“What do you mean?” Zeke asked suspiciously. “I hope you’re not thinking of going back to Palestine because I gotta tell you—”
“No, at least not yet.” She chewed her lower lip. “But you know me well enough to know I’m not the type to sit around twiddling my thumbs. I need something worthwhile to do.”
“When you’re fully recovered,” Raoul said, scowling.
“Of, of course.”
“Well, when you are, we’ll talk about you helping with the agency
work. Zeke and I take on cases ourselves sometimes.”
“Yeah, it might be good, the three of us working together again.”
“Just so long as you don’t give me all the safe, easy jobs,” she warned.
“We don’t take any of those,” Zeke assured her.
“Just as well, because I think I’ve proved I can still kick ass.”
“That you have, darlin’. That you have.”
Laughing, Raoul led her by the hand into the huge en-suite attached to the yellow room. He turned on the taps and poured half a bottle of fragrant oil into the steaming bath water. He lit aromatherapy candles and set them in holders around the tub. Zeke appeared and placed a large glass of white wine on the bath surround. Soothing music played through the built-in speakers.
“There you go, darlin’,” Raoul said, helping her out of her clothes and into the tub.
She sighed with pleasure as she sank into the sudsy water, leaned back and closed her eyes, feeling as though a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She heard the guys walk quietly from the room and close the door softly behind them, but didn’t even have the energy to say good-bye.
Cantara half dozed in the bath and allowed her mind to wander. They had gotten to the truth behind her abduction, were all together again, and had another chance to live. One that Cantara had no intention of squandering with misguided good intentions this time. She understood what had driven her lovers to strive for the truth. They felt they had let her down and, as men of action and resolve, allowing the perpetrators to get away unscathed would have eaten away at them like a virulent disease. They would not have found real peace. But now, it was done and nothing stood in the way of their being together, in every sense of the word.
The atmosphere had sizzled with anticipation ever since Levi and Hassan left and Cantara realized they had suggested she indulge herself for reasons other than her being tired. They were planning something. Tonight they would finally get their relationship back on course and nothing would be taboo. She sure as hell hoped not, she thought, as she vigorously soaped her pussy. She recalled with absolute clarity the things they had done to her before they had left for the ill-fated trip to Israel and her recovery would not be complete, until they did them again.
All of them. Repeatedly.
Her wine glass was empty, the water starting to cool. Reluctantly, Cantara stood up and switched on the overhead shower to wash the shampoo from her hair. She climbed from the tub, dried herself off and brushed out her wet hair.
“Wonder what they expect me to wear,” she speculated aloud, and she wandered into the bedroom. “Oh my!”
She clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh when she saw the garment, such as it was, that they had lain out on the bed. Just one garment—underwear would obviously be surplus to requirements this evening—and a pair of shoes with five-inch heels.
“What do we have here?”
She picked up what appeared to be a honeycomb fishnet dress, with a halter neck and hemline that would finish halfway down her thighs. With a giggle and a shrug she pulled it over her head and looked in the mirror with a combination of curiosity and trepidation. She hadn’t regained enough weight to do this…er, dress justice. Had she?
Hmm, perhaps it didn’t look too bad. Her nipples had hardened in anticipation and peeked through the holes in the fishnet. She could even see the pink lips of her pussy, which she figured was the idea. She felt sexy in a tarty sort of way, especially when she added shoes that made her legs seem endless.
She returned to the bathroom, dried her hair so that it tumbled down her back in a disorderly array of curls, gave her eyelashes a quick flick of mascara and her lips a slash of gloss. She examined her reflection again, unsurprised to notice her eyes gleaming with anticipation and her cheeks flushed deep pink for the same reason.
“Okay, bring it on,” she said to the sexy image starting back at her.
She took a deep breath and headed for the great room. It was now dark outside and they had followed the theme through from the bathroom by lighting candles on every available surface, creating a romantic ambience. A bowl of fragrant roses sat in the center of the table, giving off a heady perfume. Leave it to her guys to think of flowers. The table itself was set with crisp white linen, sparkling crystal glasses, and china she had never seen before. The same background music spilled from the speakers and a log fire burned in the grate. It wasn’t strictly necessary. The evenings tended to be cool, it was true, but the nature of Cantara’s thoughts already had her overheating.
“Hey, guys. Something smells nice. What’s for dinner?”
* * * *
“Fucking hell!” Raoul glanced away from the hob, where he was stirring his sauce, and looked his fill at Cantara instead. Shit, she was red hot! That dress was a sensation. He thought so and so did his cock, which stood to rigid attention. No change there then. “Hello, darlin’,” he said, sending her a wicked smile.
“What he said,” Zeke agreed. “Let’s get you another glass of wine.”
Zeke poured her wine and steered her to the seating area. Raoul left his sauce to simmer, grabbed beers for him and Zeke, and went to join them.
“You look…er, refreshed,” he said, blowing Cantara a kiss. “You asked what was for dinner and I reckon it could just be you. Dressed like that you are definitely messing with our plans, ’cause I’m pretty sure I can’t wait until afterwards.”
“Mr. Control Freak has met his limit,” Cantara said, laughing at him. “I never thought that day would dawn.”
“I’d need to be a fucking monk not to be affected by you in that get up.”
“True, but something’s missing.” Zeke canted his head and examined her critically. “Nipple clamps,” he decided. “I’ll be right back.”
“I have to wear nipple clamps all through dinner?”
“You have to do as you’re told. Speaking of which, come here.”
Raoul patted his knee and she elegantly rose from her chair and sashayed across the room in her tall heels to join him. She plonked herself on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Feels like you’re pleased to see me,” she said, giggling as she wiggled around, inflicting severe damage on his erection.
“You have no idea.”
“Oh, I think I get the picture. I feel the same way. Now that we’re free to be ourselves, I feel…well, de-mob happy.”
“Good phraseology.” Raoul slid his hands beneath her butt and lifted him from his lap. He unsnapped his jeans and unzipped, freeing his pulsating erection. “Straddle my knees, sweetheart. I need a little taster.”
With the fingers of one hand, he eased his path of entry and slid the tip of his cock into her. Feeling no need to take things gently, he thrust himself all the way home with one powerful flex of his hips, filling her with his desperate need. At the same time he latched his teeth onto one of the solidified nipples that peeped through the honeycomb fabric and bit down. She threw her head back, eyes wide open, and cried out.
“Yeah, you like that, don’t you, sugar? You can’t get enough of my cock, or Zeke’s. You’re gonna wear the pair of us out with your needs.”
He thrust with even more force, bit her nipple harder, and slapped her butt with one free hand. Raoul was on fire with need, and in no mood to practice restraint. He could sense Cantara was similarly minded and increased the harsh tempo of his upward motions, stretching the tight walls of her cunt to the absolute limit with his throbbing cock.
“You are gonna come so many times tonight, darlin’, that you probably won’t be able to walk straight tomorrow.”
“I need you and Zeke to bring me back to life, Master,” she replied, panting as she rode his cock like a woman emerging from a three-year sex drought. “Whatever you need, I’ll stay with you.”
“I know you will. This is just an appetizer, and it’s gonna be quick.” Raoul circled his butt against the seat as he thrust hard and deep, feeling her closing the walls of he
r pussy around his length as though afraid he might take it away from her. “That’s it, darlin’. Let’s really fuck.”
The exploded together. Cantara’s cries, loud and uninhibited as she orgasmed, were music to Raoul’s ears. He worked her into a frenzy before he finished coming himself, and then kissed her long and deep, never wanting to let her go.
“Couldn’t wait for me, huh?” Zeke asked, watching them with an amused expression, nipple clamps dangling negligently from the fingers of one hand.
Raoul laughed. “It’s our little sub’s fault for being so goddamned sexy. She steals away my self-control.”
“You’ve never had any where she’s concerned.”
Raoul shrugged. “True. Go grab a cloth from the bathroom, bud.”
“I’m on it.”
Raoul cuddled Cantara close until Zeke returned. He then slid out of her and sat her back on the settee, legs spread and a satiated expression on her lovely face as Zeke gently wiped her clean. Once he’d done so, he carefully attached the nipple clamps, leaving them on the outside of the honeycomb dress, linked together by a chain.
“Just perfect,” Zeke said. “Now go finish preparing dinner and leave me to have some quality time with our little gal.”
“Play nice without me, guys,” Raoul said, tweaking the nipple clamp chain and taking himself off to the kitchen area.
* * * *
“Did you like Raoul fucking you that way, sweetheart?” Zeke asked.
“It was a surprise. I thought you would make me wait, which is pretty mean, if I might be permitted to say so. A girl has her needs, you know.”
Zeke barked on a laugh. “Seems to me this particular girl needs to remember not to criticize her masters.”
“Yes, Sir,” Cantara replied, doing that cute thing of mangling her lower lip between her teeth as fire flashed through compelling eyes that had regained all their luster. “I guess she forgot.”
“Get down on the rug, on your hands and knees.”
While she did so, Zeke followed Raoul’s example by freeing himself from the tight confines of his jeans. He still had a hard time believing they had Cantara back, thanked every deity he could name for her safe delivery, and took a moment to marvel at her powers of recovery. To have gotten her memory back, survive the attack by Romney and embrace their games again so quickly was nothing short of remarkable. No wonder she was their soul mate. A woman with less spirit would never have held their interest for long.
