by Lexi Blake
And she really wished Damon Knight wasn’t standing behind him, looming over the proceedings like a gloriously dark angel. The man was far too big, too grim, too gorgeous for her to be able to breathe in the same room with him.
The head of the double 0 program shook his head. “I seem to be having an enormous amount of difficulty making myself plain today.”
She was screwing up. She was a bloody translator. She understood words and their nuances in many different languages, but nothing was computing today.
“He meant what he said.” Knight’s voice was like rich dark chocolate. It seemed to flow from those gorgeous lips of his to caress her skin as though he was talking only to her, and no one else in the world mattered. She’d never had that deep voice turned specifically on her. Oh, he’d said the occasional hello before and once he’d thanked her for baking him a cake—though he hadn’t eaten it—but she’d never held an actual long conversation with him.
Which was good because apparently she struggled with the power of speech around the man. Their whole relationship involved him asking her to translate things and her acting like a drooling idiot.
“Miss Cash, this is an operation of the highest priority, though we believe there is very little risk to your person,” Nigel explained.
“I’ll take care of you.” Knight had his arms crossed over his chest, those stark gray eyes pinning her to the chair.
“I don’t understand. I’m a translator.” She didn’t go into the field. The entire idea was silly.
“You passed your physical.” Knight seemed to have taken over the meeting. Though he didn’t move an inch, there was something active about the way he stood and stared at her. He was like a large predatory cat just waiting for her to make the wrong move so he could attack.
So he could jump on her. His body on hers. Her body under his. He was so big, would she even be able to breathe if he gave her his full weight? He had to be sixteen and a half stone, and every bit of it was pure muscle. She’d seen him without a shirt once. He’d been in a training room, running on a treadmill, sweat glistening off his perfectly formed chest. He looked a bit like she suspected Greek gods would have looked.
She’d heard all the horrible stories about his injury seven months before, but, god, he looked healthy today. Good enough to eat.
“You didn’t pass your physical?” Knight asked, one dark brow rising.
God, how long had she been sitting there staring at him like an idiot? “No, I passed.”
Barely. Though she had been hitting the gym a bit in the last several months. Exercise was supposed to be good for lifting the spirits. It had lifted her rear at least.
“Excellent. And you passed the firearms courses. I don’t expect that you should have to actually use one, but you’ll be issued a sidearm.” He moved suddenly, his big body uncoiling as he reached for a file folder. “This is the basic information about the operation. Obviously, it’s for your eyes only.”
She stared at the folder like it might bite her. “I’m a translator.”
“Who seems to be having a bit of trouble with English today,” Knight quipped. “Yes, you’re a translator. That’s why I need you. This operation is going to take us to Germany, Denmark, and Finland. You speak the languages.”
She was freakishly good with languages, and she’d been raised in a home where several had been spoken. Her grandmother had grown up in a small town in Finland and spoke Finnish around her constantly. Her father’s family was German. She’d picked up the language in summers spent in Bavaria. She’d learned Danish because her brother had bet her she couldn’t. But there was a problem with the scenario Knight laid out. “Almost everyone in those countries speaks English, you know.”
A superior huff came out of Knight’s mouth. “Yes, darling, they do. They are spectacularly well educated. So smart, in fact, that they tend to speak their own languages when they don’t want the idiot Brits to know what they’re saying. I don’t suspect that they’ll switch to English when they discuss their nefarious plans. We have twenty suspects. We’re going to bug their rooms. I doubt those conversations will conveniently take place in English. And there’s the fact that if we need to follow the suspects into the countryside, the farther you get from the cities, the more likely I’ll need a translator.”
She finally took the file and flipped through it. “I thought you said this was a potential terrorist. Shouldn’t you be looking for someone who speaks the Middle Eastern languages?”
“Yes, because all terrorists are Middle Eastern.”
God, she sounded like a complete idiot. “I know that. Uhm, you think this is tied to Nature’s Core?”
“Yes,” Nigel said.
“Not at all,” Knight interjected. Then a smooth smile crossed that perfect face of his. He was a hard-looking man, his face all angles and roughhewn planes, but when he smiled he damn near took her breath away. “I mean, yes. Yes. The files explain it. And Nature’s Core is a German group. So you can see why I need a woman who speaks German.”
“To pretend to be your lover.” The words sounded dumb. He was gorgeous and sophisticated. The suit he was currently wearing likely had a designer label attached. She was wearing a shapeless skirt and a cardie that she’d probably picked up at a car boot sale. She had kinky blonde hair and wore glasses. She was a bit overweight. Just a bit.
She set the file back down on Nigel’s desk. She couldn’t read it when all her brain was thinking about was Damon Knight.
He moved again, walking around Crowe’s desk and coming to stand right in front of her. She was taken by how he seemed to occupy the space around him. There was no way to ignore Damon Knight unless he wanted her to. He reached out and took her hand in his.
And her heart rate tripled.
“I think it won’t be such a challenge, love.”
Dear god, she’d actually become quite…excited. She could feel herself getting moist and hot, her female parts softening right up the minute he touched her. It was deeply disconcerting since she hadn’t actually had that reaction to a man in…ever.
She hadn’t had sex in several years. She couldn’t even pretend to be the type of woman who would share a bed with Damon Knight. And if she was right, she actually would be sharing a bed with him. They would be going on this cruise together, and he would likely insist on keeping up all appearances and that meant one bed.
One bed that she would share with him, lying beside him, feeling the heat of his body.
Not being alone for once.
“What do you say, darling? Let’s go on a cruise.” He was using charm on her now. He should have stuck with the grim reaper act because she could turn down charm.
She pulled her hand from his. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not a field agent, Mr. Knight. I’m a translator. I listen in on conversations and translate them.”
He got to one knee in front of her so they were almost on the same level. He took her hand back, sliding it palm up between both of his. She was suddenly surrounded by warmth. “I know it sounds a bit frightening. We’ve lost agents in the past, but this is going to be different. I promise you. I’ll take care of you in every way. While the operation is a priority, I will put your safety and security above everything else. Do you understand? I’m going to make sure that nothing bad happens to you. It’s going to be my goal to ensure that you have a pleasurable experience. It’s a cruise, Penelope. For the most part, we’re going to relax and let the support staff do their jobs. You’re going to be there in case I need your talents, but your primary job is to give me a reason to be on that boat. I can’t go on without a female. You’ll be my girl, you see. You’ll be with me and that means that I’ll always be around to protect you.”
His every word seemed to sink into her skin, drawing her into those eyes. If he kept it up, her tongue would be on the floor or trying to get into his mouth because he was so close, all she could think about was kissing him.
She could
n’t. She couldn’t kiss him because it was ridiculous and she would look like an utter twit. No. She wasn’t this person. She wasn’t the girl who took on assignments and pretended to be a double 0’s girl. She was the type of girl who went home at night and had tea and watched telly.
Penny stood, unable to be close to him a moment longer. “I’m sorry. You’ll have to find someone else.”
His face hardened, eyes going dark. He’d gone from charm to menace in an instant, and Penny had to wonder which one was the act and which was the real Damon Knight. She rather thought she was looking at him now. “There isn’t anyone else. I’m out of time. I need at least ten days to get you properly trained and ready to go. We need to start by Monday, so I’m going to give you the weekend to think about this and come to the proper conclusion.”
“Juliet speaks German.” He hadn’t moved an inch toward her, but she suddenly felt stalked. She took a step toward the door, wanting to flee. If Nigel Crowe hadn’t been in the room, she likely would have, but she needed to keep her job and that meant showing some small amount of backbone.
“No.” Knight gave no explanation, just a sharp shake of his head.
Crowe stood with a sigh. “Unfortunately, I’ve looked into this, Miss Cash. You really are the only one with the proper credentials. We are in a bit of a bind here. Perhaps you could reconsider. I understand that it might seem distasteful to you…”
Knight snorted, an oddly aristocratic sound. “She’s scared out of her mind, Nige, and I rather think it isn’t about taking a bullet. She’s not stupid. She knows I’ll keep her safe. So that makes me wonder what really frightens her. I think she’s a prudish chit and she’s worried I’ll get her knickers off.”
Now there wasn’t any thought to backing off. There was the real Damon Knight, and she was so happy he’d finally shown up. Arrogant. A bit mean. Yes, that she could handle. “Did you ever stop to wonder if perhaps I’m simply not interested in even pretending to sleep with you?”
“No. Not once.”
“Maybe I don’t like men, Mr. Knight.” The minute she said it she wanted to take it back, but it wasn’t the first time her stubbornness had gotten her in trouble. If SIS wanted to fire her for being a pseudo lesbian, let them.
“Oh, you like men, love. And you like me. Why do you think I got so close to you? Why do you think I slid my thumb over your pulse? Because I needed to know how I affected your heart rate. I needed to see how your eyes dilated the minute I touched you. And I definitely wanted to know if I could get a whiff of arousal coming from between your thighs.”
“You bastard.” She could feel her cheeks flushing, shame threatening to overtake her because she knew just how aroused she’d gotten. Still was. God, she had to be sick to still find the man attractive.
His face softened slightly. “It’s all right. It’s nothing at all to be ashamed of. I know we tend to devalue sexuality in this country, but I think it’s a lovely thing. If it makes you feel better, come here and bump up against me. You’ll find I’ve got a hard-on.”
She couldn’t help it. Her eyes went there. Sure enough, his slacks had tented. Impressively.
“I had the same reaction.” His voice was all seduction now. “It’s all right. Let’s go somewhere and talk about this. I was wrong to approach you in such a crass manner. I’ll be honest. I’m usually much smoother than that. Give me a chance to take you to lunch and we can be civilized.”
But it was all an act. He could wear a thousand pound suit, but there was a predator underneath it. One she couldn’t handle. If she walked out with him, he would very likely smooth talk her in to agreeing and she would be underneath him by the time the boat left Dover.
And what the hell was wrong with that?
What was wrong with having an adventure? What was wrong with having an affair? She’d lived her whole life serving the people around her. What exactly was wrong with doing one completely insane thing?
“Knight, back off.” Nigel was standing, his face a grim mask. “I believe you’ve done enough damage for the day. Let the girl go.”
Knight’s face went a polite blank. “Of course.”
He stepped around her, making sure he didn’t poke her with the erection that was still obvious. He opened the door and closed it behind him without saying another word.
“You’ll forgive him. He’s not himself.” Nigel smoothed his tie down. “He’s struggling with the fact that his career is changing. This operation was important to him.”
“I’m sorry.” Her heart was still racing.
Nigel held a hand up. “I’ll attempt to find someone else.”
She nodded and turned, her hand on the knob, the same place he’d touched just moments before. “How likely is it that you’ll find someone in time?”
“Highly unlikely. We’ll have to figure something else out. But you don’t need to worry about that. Just continue your work. And it would be nice if you didn’t mention Knight’s state of…well, perhaps you could pretend he didn’t proposition you in my office.”
“Of course.” She wasn’t about to bring him up on sexual harassment charges. She had no illusions who would win that battle.
Or would he? He’d been injured. His career was changing? That could only mean that SIS wasn’t sure of his status. He’d been shot. Everyone had talked about it, but no one in her department knew exactly how bad it had been. He’d been gone for months. She’d been so lost in her own grief after her mum died that she hadn’t thought about him in forever. Well, not in anything but a fantasy way. She probably had never really thought about who he was as a man. Beyond his gorgeous face and his amazing body, there was still a man under there.
How hard would it be for a man like Knight to know that his whole career depended on one translator?
“I’ll give you my answer on Monday.”
Crowe sat up straighter. “I rather thought you’d already given me your answer.”
“Do you really think you can’t find anyone else?”
“I believe we won’t find anyone as qualified as you, but Miss Cash, you should understand that this is going to be a very, how should I put it, a very intimate operation. This cruise that the target is on is a cruise for people in what many would call a sexually deviant lifestyle. I really didn’t think Knight should even ask you, but he insisted.”
She had to work to make sure her jaw didn’t drop open. “What sort of sexually deviant lifestyle? Is it one large orgy? A swinging thing?”
“No. Not at all. I’ve rather heard many of these men are deeply possessive of their partners. That doesn’t mean you wouldn’t see public sex, but Knight certainly wouldn’t ask you to sleep with anyone, well, anyone except him, very likely.” Crowe, who had overseen more bloody missions than Penny could even count, seemed deeply awkward talking about sex. She thought he’d rather be discussing the terrorist plot. “It wasn’t well done of him to ask you. I tried to explain that to him.”
It wasn’t well done of him to ask her on the mission or to ask her on an operation that might include having sex with him to keep up their cover? She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of either. It was perverse. Crowe was supporting her position, but now she felt a well of stubborn will rise up. “Well, I am a member of this organization. I do have security clearance. And I knew that I could be asked to go into the field if I was needed.”
“Yes, of course, but this isn’t the type of operation you should be on. You’re a nice young lady. You certainly shouldn’t be exposed to that sort of thing.”
That sort of thing? Sex? He thought she shouldn’t be exposed to sex? Well, it wasn’t like she hadn’t thought the same thing, but it hurt. “Is the lifestyle situation detailed in the report?”
He picked up the file. “There is information on it, yes.”
“And Mr. Knight knows about this lifestyle?” She had to admit she was curious. Curious about everything.
And she owed it to Mr. Knight to at least read the file. She couldn’t do it herself, b
ut perhaps they weren’t thinking of everyone. Maybe she could help them find someone who would be suitable. “I’ll take a look at it.”
“If you’re sure.” He let her take the folder. “But obviously no one expects you to accept.” He emphasized the “you.”
And she felt that deep sense of completely unrealistic outrage again. “We’ll see.”
Before she turned, she thought she caught just a hint of a smile and wondered if Nigel Crowe wasn’t playing her for everything she was worth.
And she suddenly wondered if it just might work.
Chapter Two
He’d fucked up royally.
Damon stood in the middle of Paddington station, the Saturday crowd milling around him, the smells of coffee and baked goods filling the space, and considered the problem he’d created for himself.
He’d completely lost his cool. He’d damn near rubbed his cock all over Penelope Cash and then wondered why on earth she didn’t want to work with him. The entire afternoon before had been a classic fuckup. He’d been a tosser and she’d been a prude. Well, at least on the outside she’d been a prude.
Why didn’t she want to work with him? He hadn’t been insane. He really had felt her pulse, seen her eyes dilate, gotten a hint of the sweetest arousal coming from between her legs.
If he’d slid his hands up that plug-ugly skirt she’d been wearing, if he’d caressed her thighs and made his way to her pussy, he was damn sure he would have found her wet and squirming. And all right in Nigel’s office. How would she respond to him when he got her in a dungeon?
There was a whooshing sound that signaled the arrival of the train he’d been waiting on.
Paddington station was a massive hub, a testament to the power of London transport. To his right, he could get to the Tube and go just about anywhere in London proper. But the train platforms in front of him led to the rest of England, and more importantly to Heathrow.
The Heathrow Express pulled into the station, stopping quietly, its shiny silver doors opening with almost a preternatural quiet.
