Love and Let Die (Masters and Mercenaries)

by Lexi Blake

  “You’re afraid your wife would be pissed about a Russian hookup?” Simon asked.

  Jake groaned. “No. Magda was in good with a Ukrainian syndicate. They’re in direct competition with Denisovitch. She’ll help us fuck with them. Do you know what Serena would do if she found out we know real Russian mobsters? She would never stop asking questions. She would want us to take her to the Ukraine and meet with them. Can you see that meeting?”

  Adam went a little green. “I have nightmares about it.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this? We could just stay out of his business.” Grace spoke for the first time. Her hands were in her lap, tightening around each other.

  He reached out to his sister-in-law because Sean wasn’t here. It was something he wouldn’t have even thought about doing before, but Grace was his family. He was going soft. “Grace, he won’t let it lie. Those pictures are proof. He wants us to see him. He’s got something in mind. We have to figure it out.”

  “Little one, Ian’s right,” Sean said, his voice low and sweet toward his wife. “He won’t let this go. We’ve hurt him too much. He can’t let up and neither can we. This is a game only one group can win. We have to make sure we take him out.”

  “I want to do something,” Jake said.

  “Take care of your wife.” He wasn’t about to put Jake in the field when Serena was pregnant. Adam was safe enough behind his computer. He could still do his job.

  “You can’t keep me out of the field forever,” Jake shot back. “Serena knew what she was getting into when she married me. She knew what my job was.”

  Ian held out a hand. He couldn’t stand the thought of that baby Serena was carrying being down a dad. “Just let me get used to it, man. I’ve got what I need for now. If something else comes up, I’ll send you in the line of fire, okay?”

  “All right. I just want to take this fucker down, you know.”

  “I want him dead more than anything.” His eyes trailed toward Charlie’s frame. Phoebe was still talking and she had a Hermione doll in her hand. Maybe he didn’t want Nelson dead more than absolutely anything.

  There was something he wanted so much more. He just wasn’t sure he should have it.

  “So we’re all good?” Alex asked, getting to his feet. “Because I have some packing to do. And a camera to buy. I’m going to expense that shit.”

  “He’s had his eye on a telephoto lens,” Eve said.

  So it would be an expensive op. He was willing to pay just about anything if he could get rid of the threat. If he could get rid of both Nelson and Denisovitch, he could figure out what he really wanted. He could figure out how to deal with Charlie. He could decide if he could really forgive her.

  Liam walked into the room, his eyes a little wild. Something had happened and it didn’t look good. “Adam, I need your help.”

  Ian got to his feet. “What happened?”

  Liam’s hands were shaking. “There was an accident. Avery’s car. It’s very bad.”

  Ian felt his stomach twist. His day wasn’t done. Not even close.

  * * * *

  Eli Nelson looked through the binoculars. Kashmir Kamdar was on his boat, anchored in a particularly beautiful section of Goa. His own small island nation was roughly twenty miles to the west, but King Kash, as they called him in the tabloids, didn’t have to be in his kingdom to hold court. He seemed to be on a perpetual vacation.

  Three buxom blondes in barely there bikinis were frolicking on the starboard side of the ridiculous yacht.

  He hated the little fucker. He hadn’t done a damn thing to deserve his wealth except have the very good fortune to be born well. At least Taggart had made his way in the world. Taggart had been past dirt poor before.

  He wondered if Taggart knew why his father had left him behind. He’d done a study of Taggart a long time before. He wondered if Taggart knew his father had walked away and started a whole other family after he’d finally gotten off the drugs. It was a fleeting thought. He didn’t really care, but it was interesting given his current surveillance. King Kash had everything handed to him while Taggart had scrapped and fought to put food in his mewling brother’s mouth. Taggart had two more brothers he didn’t even know existed. Apparently the Taggart DNA ran true. Despite the fact that their father was a pussy retail clerk, the twin brothers Ian didn’t know about were more like him than their father. Both had joined the Navy because their papa couldn’t pay for college and both were up for BUD/S training this year. Nelson had thought seriously about trying to recruit those two. It would be so much fun to have a couple of Taggarts on his side.

  If only Tag had proven to be a bit more morally flexible, Nelson would have introduced him to his friends. Tag would have been an unbelievably effective agent if he hadn’t had that morality. He was certain it was brought on by Tag’s family.

  It was better to be alone.

  Not that Kash seemed to believe that. The young king seemed to think he should never be alone. The fucker was always shoving his dick into some blonde.

  When he wasn’t funding research Nelson’s bosses wanted quashed.

  Kash passed a glass of wine to his latest Swedish supermodel and then turned his face up to the sun. It was something he did often. The idiot turned his face up, his arms going out as though he was embracing the whole world.

  When Nelson got the go-ahead, he would put a bullet straight through the fucker’s chest.

  The door to the cabin opened and one of Kash’s many servants brought him a phone on a silver platter. The man was dressed in a tux and tails and bowed to the master of the boat.

  God, he couldn’t wait to kill him. Nelson had a plan in place. Kamdar was such an over-privileged asshole. But he was also an asshole who had information Nelson needed. He touched the earpiece in his right ear. Mostly his surveillance had consisted of listening to the king fuck a long string of blondes. The man had stamina.

  “Hello?”

  Nelson’s whole body tightened. When the king of Loa Mali spoke English, it meant he was talking to one of his scientists.

  There was a long pause on the line, and Nelson cursed the fact that he’d only been able to bug the boat and not the king’s phone. Kash was a paranoid bastard who switched his cell phones on a weekly basis. And he kept three different phones for different types of people. One for his hookups. One for his family.

  And one for the people he kept on his island, paying them handsomely for what he merely called “research” in his bookkeeping accounts.

  Nelson’s bosses were interested in that research.

  Through the binoculars, he saw Kash’s smile go wide. “Are you serious?”

  Another long pause and Nelson’s whole body went tight with frustration. God, he needed to get more than one man in Kash’s household. The only one he’d managed to blackmail spent almost all his time in the garage of the boat, and there was no reason for him to be close to the king except when he piloted him to shore. Every single person who was really close to the king, down to the dude who probably wiped his ass, were Loa Malian. He hadn’t been able to bribe a one of them because Kash, like his father and his father’s father, spread the fucking wealth around. First it had been about the pearl trade and the rich minerals found on the small island that was home to roughly 40,000 inhabitants. Then the fuckers found oil in their territorial waters and the Kamdars shared the wealth with the citizenry, ensuring that things like democracy and forward progress had no place on their little island.

  During the ‘90s, the former king became fascinated with technology, buying large chunks of stock in companies that were changing the world. He also completely changed Loa Mali’s infrastructure, making it one of the most high-tech countries on the planet.

  Now Kash Kamdar was the king and it seemed like he wanted to change the world as well.

  Too bad Nelson and his bosses were happy with the world the way it was.

  “Are you serious? It holds there?” A loopy grin hit the king’s face. “Are we r
eady to move into testing?”

  Shit and double shit. He needed to hear the other end of that conversation. Or maybe not. Maybe the ridiculous look on Kamdar’s face was all he needed to know. They were moving faster than he’d anticipated.

  He needed to get to the oil rig where he suspected Kamdar kept his lab and start blowing shit up.

  His cell buzzed, a text coming through.

  Operations commenced. Expect successful termination of all players within three days. Avery O’Donnell already confirmed dead.

  Poor Irishman. He’d been happy for a couple of months. Oh, well, his pain wouldn’t last long. He’d be dead beside his little bride. And all the others.

  Nelson went back to watching his target. It was almost time to take him out, too.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “The flowers are pretty.” She would say just about anything to get Phoebe off her favorite subject.

  “Who cares about flowers?” Chelsea asked under her breath. “I just saw the MI6 guys walk back in. Do you understand what that means?”

  It meant that Ian might be rethinking his position. He might be ready to turn her over to them after all.

  “It’s weird that they didn’t come with a note,” Phoebe was saying as she looked at the bouquet of yellow roses. “Grace said they were just delivered here this morning. I’ve never gotten flowers but my friend bought me a first edition Alchemist’s Stone. That was the British title for Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. I like the British title better. It has more mystery about it.”

  And Phoebe was off again. Her sister groaned beside her.

  She stared at the flowers. Yellow flowers. In Russia, they were symbols of sadness. Of betrayal. If a girl in Russia got yellow flowers she knew it was the end. Maybe it was fitting.

  The MI6 agents walked out of the conference room, the doors closing behind them. They moved back toward the hallway that housed Ian’s office.

  Baz’s eyes trailed toward her, searching hers. He gave her a grave nod and continued to follow his partner.

  “Will they really take you?” Chelsea whispered.

  “If Ian lets them, yes.” She didn’t care anymore. If they were going to take her, then it wouldn’t matter that she worried about it.

  This wasn’t the submission she’d dreamed about when she’d planned her reunion with Ian, but it seemed that submitting to fate was the only thing left to do.

  Phoebe leaned forward. “Did you really marry him?”

  Charlie looked up, taking in the woman who seemed so scared of her husband. “Uhm, yes. I married him in England.”

  “He didn’t like force you or anything, right?”

  If only she could tell herself that, but no, everything that had happened between them was consensual. Everything except him throwing her out. “No. I loved him.”

  Phoebe shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand. He’s just so scary.”

  Charlie looked back at the conference room. He didn’t look scary. He looked tired and sad. He looked like she felt. She put a hand on the window, feeling his pull.

  He turned away.

  If Phoebe was going to work here, she needed to learn how to deal with her boss. “Just stand up to him. He’s all bark and no bite around women. Don’t get me wrong, if you truly cross him, you’ll pay for it, but you can’t let him push you around.”

  Phoebe went a little white. “Oh, I can barely talk around the man. I don’t think I’ll be standing up to him anytime soon.”

  “He’s just a man,” Chelsea said, her tone exasperated. “I don’t understand why every woman around is either afraid of him or trying to sleep with him.”

  “You can be both,” Phoebe said, her eyes going to the conference room.

  Charlie slapped a hand on Phoebe’s desk, getting the girl’s attention back where it should be. “If you try to sleep with him, then you won’t need to be afraid of Ian. You should be afraid of me.”

  Phoebe’s mouth dropped open. “I am. I really am right now. I’m going to go get some coffee. I’ll be back.”

  She nearly ran out of the room.

  “Way to scare the mouse, sis.”

  She sat in silence. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say to Chelsea. She’d failed her like she’d failed Ian.

  “Can you not even look at me now?”

  Charlie shook her head. Maybe Ian wasn’t the only one who needed time. “I’m just sorry, Chelsea.”

  “For what?” Her sister got to her knees, obviously unwilling to accept the situation.

  “For whatever I did wrong.”

  Chelsea reached for her hand. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I did. I got in really deep, Charlie. I can’t explain it except to say it’s an obsession. But it’s one that’s protected us up until now.”

  “I should have forced you to go to school. I should have paid more attention to you. I was obsessed with Ian. I should have put it aside and dealt with you.”

  Chelsea squeezed her hand. “Charlotte, we can still make this right. We can get away from here. I’m not going to let them take you. I never once meant to let you take the fall for me. I love you. You’re my only family. You’re the only person I have in the whole world. I’m certainly not going to lose you.”

  Her sister was still in way too deep. “Chelsea, listen to yourself. You’ve been playing god for way too long. You won’t be able to stop it. If those men take me there will be absolutely nothing you can do about it. I’ll be gone and you won’t see me again and I don’t even know if you can function in the real world.”

  “What are you talking about?” Chelsea asked, sitting back on her heels and dropping her hand.

  “You’ve set up your own little kingdom. Your own world and you rule it, and you don’t consider what it means to anyone else.”

  “No one else matters.”

  “Everyone matters. Didn’t you learn anything?”

  A stubborn mask fell over Chelsea’s face. “Yes, I learned that my legs break when someone takes a baseball bat to them. I learned that you either have power or you’re meaningless.”

  “You have compassion or you’re soulless, Chelsea. Momma taught us that.”

  “Momma let herself be used by a monster. She married him. She had kids by him.”

  She wished her sister could really remember. “No, she was brave. She ran. She hid.”

  “Not well enough, so she kind of lost that battle. You know I always thought you were the strong one, but I’ve had to be for the last several years. You pretend to be the leader but all your decisions are made between your legs. You forgot about me, so I’ve had to make sure we were safe.”

  Charlie turned in her chair, unable to look at Chelsea a moment longer. “What did you expect me to do? Live with you the rest of my life? Don’t you want something more? Don’t you want someone to love?”

  A bitter laugh escaped her sister’s lips. “Who’s going to love me? You might have a few scars, but you can still walk properly. You don’t ache every single day. No one’s going to love me, Charlotte. I’m not that girl.” She finally got up and sat back down in her chair, taking a long breath. “I don’t think Ian’s going to love you either. I’m not trying to be a bitch. I’m realistic. He’s not a forgiving man. He wants a sub, not a wife. He wants someone who will spend her whole life cooking his dinner and worshiping at his feet.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing. I’ve spent the last couple of years pretty much doing that for you. At least he worshipped me back, and don’t wrinkle your nose at the idea. Until you’ve had a man who wants to hold you, who wants you more than his next breath, you don’t get a say in the way I feel.”

  Ian seemed to be talking to someone on the speaker phone. Charlie stared at the flowers. They were beautiful, just buds now, their graceful curves only starting to reveal the bloom inside. She’d been like that once. She’d been full of possibilities. She hadn’t even known what those possibilities were. Ian had shown her.

  She would
n’t bloom. Maybe Chelsea was right, and they had never really had a chance.

  Fourteen flowers. She touched them all, a little worry sparking in the back of her brain. “Chelsea, how many flowers do you count?”

  “I don’t care about the flowers.”

  “I count fourteen. Fourteen yellow roses and no one knows who sent them.”

  Chelsea suddenly seemed to care about the flowers. “It could be a mistake. Maybe whoever sent them meant to send a dozen and they got fourteen by mistake. They send flowers by the dozen here in the States.”

  No one in Russia sent an even number of flowers to anything except a funeral. And no one sent yellow flowers except to show their profound sadness or to mark a betrayal.

  These were funeral flowers meant for a Russian daughter. For her.

  “We have to get out of here.” Chelsea tugged on her arm, pure fear on her face. It seemed she’d gotten the message, too. “They don’t understand how far our uncle will go.”

  Liam strode down the hallway, a grim look on his face. He shoved his way into the conference room and immediately started talking. Everyone was facing him and then Grace started to cry.

  Oh, god, what was going on? Charlie stepped to the window that separated them.

  Charlie watched as the conference room seemed to tense and then Liam and Grace went running out of the room followed by a tense-looking Simon and Jesse, who was checking the clip on his SIG. Jake moved back toward his office while Adam was back at his computer, his fingers flying across the keys.

  Something had happened. Something spectacularly bad.

  Baz chose that moment to walk down the hallway. He stopped, looking into the conference room before poking his head into the office where Charlie was standing. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know.” But she needed to find out. Ian had told her to wait, but she couldn’t just sit here when it looked like everything was falling apart. What had caused Grace to cry? To run out of the room like the devil was chasing her?

  She looked into the lobby and Grace had her purse. Liam was escorting her out of the office, his eyes moving, searching for a threat.