It didn't take long for her orgasm to build, and soon Kameko was rubbing herself faster and harder as she wriggled, her body clasping him urgently. She could feel him growing harder and bigger inside her as she did, and when his hand began massaging her breast, it triggered a huge burst of pleasure inside her that left her breathless and shaking. A moment later she felt Jake's shaft swell and jerk as he flooded her sheath with his seed.
“You have a hundred years to stop doing that,” he told her, his breath warm on her cheek as he encircled her waist with his arm. “Unless you’re as sore as I am. Then you can take a break for an hour.”
She smiled. “When I woke up and I felt you inside me, so big and hard . . . I couldn't help myself.”
“Mmm.” When she tried to move away, he tightened his arm. “You're not going anywhere,” he murmured, stroking her breast. “Not after that.”
Kameko watched his face as he drifted back off to sleep. She felt a deep and abiding sense of satisfaction, but behind it shame blossomed. She couldn’t stay with him, not even for sex.
Once Jake's breathing slowed, and his arm around her waist relaxed, Kameko turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She’d finally crossed the line she’d drawn for herself. She’d always been ashamed of her childhood training, and had tried to forget it. One night with Jake Silvar and she was behaving like the whore she’d been taught to be.
Jake deserved better.
Kameko pushed away the shame and focused on her next move. By now Simon Denning had probably reported her missing to the London branch; her handler would be worried. If she didn’t report in another twelve hours they would send someone after her.
Kameko's gaze shifted to the bedroom window, where she saw the sky beginning to lighten as dawn approached. Carefully she moved Jake's arm away from her, and gently disengaged their bodies before she slipped out of bed, picked up her clothes, and tiptoed out of the room.
Misery swamped her as she dressed, which was probably why she didn’t hear the man in black until he was on top of her. He pulled her into a choke hold, and raised a stiletto above her chest. She only had time to close her eyes as the blade came plunging down, and then a weapon fired. Kameko dropped as the man staggered backward and collapsed.
“I wouldn’t,” Jake said as he emerged from the bedroom. He kept his gun trained on the man clasping his bleeding shoulder.
Kameko spun around, kicking the stiletto from the assassin’s hand and catching it by the hilt as it flipped through the air. She stood and glanced at Jake. “Now you must call the police, I’m afraid.” She regarded her would-be killer, who snarled something filthy in Spanish at her. “I’ll have to talk to my people as well.”
“Sure.” Jake came over to handcuff the assassin. “When you tell me exactly who your people are.”
“British intelligence,” Kameko said, and sighed. “I work for MI-6.”
#
Discovering his former assistant and new lover was a spy didn’t shock Jake as much as it pissed him off -- again. He clamped down on his temper while Kameko arranged to have her people retrieve the assassin and take him in for questioning. She spent another hour on the phone reporting on the situation to her superiors before she spoke to him again.
“I’ve told them we staged the abduction as part of a planned sting operation,” she said as she walked with him back to the office. “I don’t think they believed me, but you won’t face any charges for kidnapping me.”
Jake waited until they were alone before he said, “Why did the U.K. plant you in my office?”
“We received a report that you were being targeted by an international terrorist cartel,” she told him. “We needed to know what they were after: you or your work. Now we know.”
She looked calm and composed, as if she were talking about grocery shopping instead of corporate espionage. He felt like shaking her until her teeth rattled. “But you couldn’t tell me about it?”
“That is standard procedure,” she assured him. “I was assigned to protect you and wait until the cartel made their move.”
“You left.” She was pretending as if last night hadn’t happened, too, which pissed him off even more. “You left without telling me I was being targeted. If I’d known—”
Kameko rubbed her eyes. “You couldn’t have done anything to stop this, Jacob – and you weren’t unprotected. I had another operative sent to replace me the same day I left.”
“Who?” Before she answered, he swore under his breath. “Never mind. I don’t care who it is. I’m done with this.”
“I’m afraid you’re not. I had my people trace the signal used to upload the schematics through your smart phone. It came through an internet phone service from an anonymous account.” She offered him a slip of paper. “This is the IP address of the terminal used to make the call.”
He eyed the number and crumpled the paper. “Not, it’s not. It can’t be. This is one of Silvatech’s IPs.”
She regarded him steadily. “Then it seems that I’m not the only one who came to work here as an undercover agent.”
Chapter Five
Silvatech’s accounting division occupied an entire floor of the building, through which Kameko walked with Jake to the division manager’s office. The cartel’s agent had avoided the more sensitive departments and hidden in plain sight among the number-crunchers, which even she had to admit had been a brilliant move.
As soon as the manager’s mousy-looking secretary saw Jake, she jumped up. “Mr. Silvar, good morning. May I help you?”
Jake smiled. “I need to speak with Kyle, Ms. Garcy.”
The secretary’s hand shook as she opened the door to announce them, and Kameko gave the other woman a sympathetic smile as she followed Jake in.
“Mr. Silvar.” Kyle Blake got up slowly, as if in pain, and came around his desk. “Is there something you need?”
“Please stay,” Kameko said when Ms. Garcy began to back out of the office. “We may need your help, too.”
“Of course.” The other woman closed the door, and listened as Jake told her boss about the terminal that had been used to steal the schematics.
“That is my IP address,” Blake said after looking at the slip of paper. “But Mr. Silvar, I’m just getting back to work. I’ve been home recovering from surgery for the last two months.”
“The thief could have come in here and used his terminal, I suppose,” Kameko said to the secretary. “Do you know of anyone who used Mr. Blake’s office while he was gone?”
Ms. Garcy frowned. “Well, there was the man from IT, but he just came to install some new software a few weeks back.” Her eyes widened. “You don’t think he did it?”
“No, I don’t.” Kameko moved, putting herself between the secretary and the door. “I think you did, Ms. Garcy. Or is it Garcia?”
“Me, a spy? Are you kidding?” The mousy woman faked a laugh. “I think you’re very confused, Ms. Saito.” She turned to Jake. “Or maybe your assistant is trying to frame me, sir, for something she did.”
“I rather doubt it,” Jake said. “Seeing as she’s British intelligence.”
Kameko saw the secretary reaching into her jacket, and drove her foot into the side of her knee, dislocating it. As the other woman screamed and toppled she straddled her and plucked the gun from her hand. “I’ll take that, thank you.”
Kameko unloaded the clip and removed the bullet from the chamber before she handed the weapon to Jake. “Mr. Blake, may I borrow your tie?”
The manager nodded, a dazed look on his face as he slowly removed his necktie and handed it to her. Kameko used it to restrain the sobbing secretary before she went out to sit behind her computer.
“They wouldn’t have sent someone after me if they had the schematics,” she told Jake when he came to join her. After a quick search, she found an enormous file hidden in the secretary’s e-mail archives and accessed it. “Where would you like me to send these?”
“Anywhere you like,” Jake told h
er. “They’re fake.”
Kameko stared up at him. “What?”
“A year ago the CIA alerted me about the cartel’s interest in acquiring my satellite designs to sell on the black market,” Jake said. “I’ve been working with them ever since.” He nodded toward the files. “The real version of those are being kept in Langley. I’ve been going there every week for the last year to work on them.”
Kameko took in a quick breath. “Your Friday golfing match.”
He nodded. “I hate golf. Always have.” He touched her shoulder. “Does this make us even?”
“I think it does.” She felt almost proud of Jake for deceiving her, which was no easy thing, and loved him for gentle way he looked at her now. She loved him, period, and she’d never regret a single moment she’d spent with him, either. Now all she had to do was get out of the building before she broke down in tears and begged him to love her back. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Come on.” He helped her up from the chair. “We have to call my country’s spooks now.”
#
Kameko sat on the balcony of the mediocre hotel room her handler had acquired for her, and sipped a glass of bland white wine as she looked out at the Silvatech building. Slipping away while Jake had been in a private conference with his CIA associates had been a bit childish, but she hadn’t wanted to say good-bye. Tomorrow she’d fly to Barcelona, where her next assignment awaited.
Tomorrow would be the first day of the rest of her life without Jake.
She turned her head as she heard the doorknob rattle. By the time the intruder came in, she had taken out her weapon, flicked off the safety and concealed herself.
“Don’t kill me,” a deep, all-too-familiar voice said. “I come in peace.”
Kameko closed her eyes for a moment before she stepped out to glare at Jake. “Have you lost your mind? Do you know how close you just came to being shot?”
“I trust your trigger finger.” He held up a bottle of wine. “Plus I come bearing much better booze than the Brits.”
She set down her weapon and strode over to the door, closing it and locking it. When she turned around Jake was right there, reaching for her. “Don’t do this,” she warned as she took a quick step back. “We can’t be together.”
“I’m here, you’re here, there’s a bed. I brought wine.” He raised his brows. “What more do we need?”
She avoided his hands and went around him. “I’ve lied to you every day since we met. I left you when I should have stayed to protect you. Then I let you have sex with me and still kept lying.”
“I can spank you, if you’d like.” When she eyed him, he shrugged. “I admit, I do need some pointers on how to deal with your submissive side.”
“I’m not a whore,” she lied. “That’s just part of my cover.”
“I wouldn’t care if you were.” Jake watched her. “I’d want to get you tested, and then I’d talk you into retiring. Or maybe I’d just buy all the nights you want to work for the rest of your life.”
Kameko told him exactly what she thought of him in Japanese, and then stalked out onto the balcony.
Jake followed, and joined her at the railing. “I suppose I am kind of a dog for lying to you, but you did the same to me. Does it mean I really have to suck the rotten eggs of a fat serpent?”
She bit back a laugh. “And you speak Japanese. Of course.”
“Damn right I do.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “I spent two years in Tokyo working on superconductor research with a crack team of their best designers. None of whom cared to learn English, oddly enough.”
“I am a submissive, you know.” Kameko rested her cheek against his shoulder. “That part I never have to fake. My parents died when I was young, and I was taken in by a woman, who looked after a lot of orphaned girls. No one knew how she was training us in secret.”
Jake went still. “Training you to do what?”
“To be submissive concubines.” Kameko stared at the lights of the city. “She started by having us watch sex tapes, and then showed us how to masturbate. We learned to use our fingers and then sex toys. Some of the girls she convinced to have sex with each other; others she had practice on some men who liked children. She made it all seem very exciting and beautiful. She called us her little geishas.”
He made a disgusted sound. “That bitch.”
“Most men thought she was a very demure, kind lady.” Kameko smiled a little. “She sold me when I was thirteen to a very wealthy Englishman.”
Jake paled. “What did he do to you?”
“He set me and the other girls free. The Englishman was a spy working against an international human trafficking ring. After he threw my abuser in jail, he arranged for me to be placed with a good family. He even paid for my education.” She sighed. “Once I became an adult, he came back and asked me to work for his people in the U.K. I’ve been a field operative ever since.”
“So they’ve had you all your adult life. It’s my turn now.” Jake turned her toward him. “I want you to stay here, with me. So don’t go to Barcelona.”
“I still work for British intelligence,” she reminded him. “And how do you know about Barcelona?”
“My friends at the CIA were very grateful.” He nodded and tugged her closer. “MI-6 doesn’t own you. Resign. Then you don’t have to go.”
“Jacob, please. Don’t do this to me.” She knocked her forehead against his chest. “The sex was amazing, and all this espionage seems exciting, but it’s not enough.”
“Love is. You love me, don’t you?” When she reluctantly nodded, he grinned. “Good. It would have been lousy to be in love with someone who just liked the sex.”
“You’re in love with me.” She couldn’t believe it.
“With all my mind, heart, body and soul. But I can show you, too.” He lifted her off her feet. “All you have to do is say no to Barcelona.”
Kameko smiled. “No to Barcelona.”
THE END
The Designer’s Obsession
Bound to the Alpha Billionaire
Book 4
(Can be read as a standalone book)
By: Lucy Wynand
The Designer’s Obsession
Chapter One
Backstage at the House of Belanger fashion show at the Castle of the Three Swans, chaos reigned. Dressers sorted garment bags on crowded standing racks, checking the photos pinned to each garment to match models to their looks. Hair and makeup stylists danced around the girls in their chairs, plying their cosmetics and tools. Voices prattled in Spanish and English, while others swore in French. Smoke from a dozen cigarettes, surreptitiously smoked in corners, curled up to form a haze around the light poles.
“Wait.” Thierry Belanger put his mobile on mute and tugged a six-foot tall blonde from the line of models. “No.” He turned his head and bellowed for his American. “Kate.”
“One moment, Monsieur,” a brisk voice called back.
He put his mobile back to his ear and demanded, “What do you mean, Saito is still in New York? I need her here, in Barcelona. Now. Put her on a plane.”
“She was attacked yesterday,” Simon Denning, his British intelligence liaison, advised him. “She can’t make it.”
“What?” As his show seamstress’s sleek head of braided apricot hair appeared under his nose, Thierry gestured to the model’s breasts, which threatened to spill over the too-tight bodice. “Kate. Please. Before she pops.” He walked out to an adjoining hallway before he told Simon, “So bandage her, give her some painkillers, and put her on the plane.”
“Kameko has resigned.” Simon paused, listening to Thierry swear before he said, “Wren Calhoun can be there on Saturday.”
“This goes down tomorrow night, Denning. Not Saturday, not next week, not next month. Tomorrow.” Thierry strode out into the castle’s fragrant grove of citrus. “Rodrigo will be here for one night only. We’ve been working for a year to set this up. The contact won’t pass the plans to me. S
he is expecting a woman. My mistress. My supermodel mistress.”
“Then you’ll have to find one,” Simon said, “because Saito is through, and Wren can’t leave Tokyo until Friday night. None of our other female operatives can pass as a supermodel.”
Thierry considered hurling his mobile into the oranges. Since he liked oranges, he went with his second option. “I quit.”
“You can’t,” the British agent countered.
“I should.” Thierry closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why am I doing this? I have more money than your Queen. I could be in Paris now, eating real food and drinking good wine. Do you know what they have in Barcelona, Denning? Gazpacho. I hate gazpacho.”
“Find someone, old boy.” The Englishman’s tone turned flinty. “This attack the cartel is planning has every country in Europe on high alert. We have to know what the target is.”
Thierry switched off his mobile and swore until he saw Kate come out of the castle. “The blonde? You fixed it?”
“Nothing wrong. Right look, wrong blonde.” She handed him an insulated tumbler. “Here. They’re walking in two minutes. Drink fast.”
He took a sip and closed his eyes. For him savoring the taste of real Parisian dark-roasted coffee took a moment. He looked at his seamstress and sighed with pleasure. “I love you, Kate.”
“Yesterday you hated me,” she reminded him as they walked back into the castle. “You fired me, too.”
“I am an idiot.” As they entered the backstage area, he scanned the line of models. Thanks to Kate every look in his spring collection appeared flawless. He stood with her to watch the models saunter down the cat walk. The audience gaping and the cameras flashing made him feel just a little smug.
Beside him his slender American kept her shrewd, jade-colored eyes on the garments. He knew she was tracking each one to see how it fit, moved, and a thousand other tiny details. A genius with fabric and thread, Kate had been translating his designs from paper sketches to reality for almost three years now. She worked as obsessively as he did, and never complained. No matter where they traveled, she always found French coffee, which made her the perfect woman.
MILITARY ROMANCE: The War Within Himself (Alpha Bad Boy Marine Army Seal) (Contemporary Military Suspense & Thriller Romance) Page 143
