A Love For Always

by Victoria Paige

  “What was that?”

  “Emergency contraception,” the admiral spoke beside her. Sylvie groaned inwardly as she could feel her face flush crimson.

  The pharmacist’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at Porter. “Yes. We have them back here.”

  “I thought you didn’t need a prescription for them,” Sylvie said.

  “We don’t,” the pharmacist confirmed. “But they get stolen as much as baby formula; we had taken them off the aisle shelves—”

  “Gotcha. Okay. Fine,” the admiral cut the woman off. “We’re kind of in a hurry, so if you can just retrieve it for her and ring her up.”

  “Sir, there are other ways to avoid this scenario,” the pharmacist shot back. “If you’re using a condom and it broke, you need to check the expiration date. Or you could consider a more permanent solution.”

  Oh, my God! Sylvie didn’t know whether to burst out laughing or bawl her eyes out. The woman thought she and the admiral were together! And the pharmacist’s blatant insinuation was not lost on anyone.

  The temperature dropped around them as Sylvie felt the admiral turn rigid beside her. If his eyes shot icy daggers, the other woman would be dead. The pharmacist realized she had gone too far and dropped her gaze.

  “Ring. Her. Up,” Porter bit out.

  They were checked out in seconds. Porter grabbed the bag and shoved it at Sylvie and stalked ahead of her.

  “Girl, you really could do better,” the pharmacist called out.

  “Oh, we’re not together.”

  The woman looked at her dubiously, but said no more.

  Sylvie had a silly grin on her face as she hurried to catch up with the admiral.

  “I thought you said you needed to stay close,” she breathed out.

  “Not another damn word,” the admiral rumbled.

  *****

  Nate arrived at the house thirty minutes before everyone else. Nana hurried straight for the guesthouse, muttering something about a roast. Pru, Sam, and the admiral followed closely. Sylvie was about to breeze past him when he stopped her and hauled her up to his bedroom where he kissed the hell out of her. He had missed her all fucking day. This was exactly why he kept his feelings for her under control. Now emotions overwhelmed him and whenever she was out of sight, he felt unsettled.

  “Whoa,” Sylvie breathed when he released her lips. “I could get used to this.”

  “You better,” Nate muttered. “I beat you guys back here, and yet you all headed home before I did.”

  Sylvie’s eyes lit with mirth. Grinning widely she said, “Well, I had to pick up some emergency contraception.” She recounted what happened at the pharmacy.

  Nate chuckled at the incident; however, an odd twinge of disappointment squeezed his chest. His initial reaction to the faulty contraception was panic, but the idea of Sylvie pregnant with his kid turned that panic into excitement. “Did you take it yet?”

  “No. I’ll do it right now.”

  “Sylvie, you don’t have to—”

  “What? You freaked out this morning.” Her brows drew into a frown.

  “I’ve been thinking about it all day,” he admitted. “I like the idea of knocking you up.” At this, Sylvie’s eyes narrowed into slits. “But I understand if it’s not a good time right now—”

  “Definitely not a good time,” Sylvie retorted.

  “I get it, all right?” Nate stated testily. “You have too much going on and a baby would only complicate things. I just don’t want you to feel like I don’t trust you, that I would think you’re trapping me into anything. In fact, trap me all you want—”

  “What—?”

  “Fuck, that didn’t come out right,” Nate muttered. “I should just shut up.” His hands landed on her shoulders. “I’m all in, all right? That’s what I’m trying to say.”

  Sylvie’s lips tipped up. “You’re still freaking out. Jeez, Nate. It’s no big deal. See here”—she pulled out the morning-after pill from the bag—“problem solved. No surprises. I’m going on a contraceptive soon anyway.”

  “I had myself tested today,” Nate informed her. “The results won’t be out for a few days, but I’m sure I’m clean.” Even when they had first hooked up, they had always used a condom. Nine fucking years. He was finally going to feel her bare. The thought sent his senses reeling, probably because the blood had made an exodus south of his brain. He lowered his mouth to her ear. “You know what that means, right?” He pulled her body fully into him so every smidgen of space disappeared between them. His erection pressed against her belly. “I get to fuck you with no barrier. Skin to fucking skin.” Her breathing turned erratic; so did his. “You’re going to feel every damn inch of me as I sink into you slowly. I’m going to feel your wet heat all over my cock. I’m going to shoot my cum so deep inside you, marking you as mine, you will have no doubt you belong irrevocably to me.”

  “Nate, you’re turning me on,” Sylvie whispered.

  “You wet for me yet?”

  “I think so.”

  He squeezed her ass and set her away from him. “Too bad. Nana will kill us if we’re late to the dinner table.”

  “Shoot, I needed to help her.”

  “Well, what are you doing here?” Nate teased.

  “Someone waylaid me at the door.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “That someone can’t get enough of you, that’s why.”

  Sylvie beamed up at him. “You are such a charmer.”

  Only with you.

  “Why don’t you go ahead?” Nate cleared his throat. “I’ll follow in a few minutes.”

  “Take your time.” She walked to the door. “I’m in charge of mashed potatoes. And here I am canoodling with you.”

  “Slacker.”

  She flashed him one of her playful sexy smiles and Nate knew he needed more than a few minutes before he could get the dopey grin off his face. He didn’t need the admiral and Sam to see he had found his kryptonite. He had a rep to protect. Nate shook his head and chuckled, knowing he didn’t care. He tucked his hands in the back pockets of his jeans as he bowed his head, taking a deep regulating breath. His chest was full; he didn’t know what to do with these damned emotions. It was unchartered territory at best; this desire to be with her every second of the day. This unrelenting compulsion to protect her. This desperate need to be inside her. Nate had found the one person who could make him happy. His job gave him professional fulfillment, but at the end of the day, something was always missing. From going through the motions in life to living a life worth living. That was what Sylvie did for him. And he was making damned sure her happiness would always be his priority.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Five days after the explosion, the guesthouse was abuzz with activity. The insurance company was being difficult, and though they were willing to settle on an amount, Sylvie thought she was being shortchanged. She’d already sat with Nate’s lawyer to look over some items refuted in her claim. The insurance money wouldn’t be enough to rebuild and restock, and even if they’d come to an agreement, it would take time for the funds to be released. Time Sylvie didn’t have. Her first order of business was to put in some feelers with Noodle Works, a company based out of Hawaii that had recently opened a facility in New Jersey. The ramen craze had picked up steam north of the Mason-Dixon Line, making sense for Noodle Works to open on the East Coast. It was perfect timing for Sylvie to sever her connections with the ACS-controlled Japanese noodle company that produced her ramen. Great ramen could be made outside Japan and Noodle Works had much success on the West Coast. It was bringing its technology to their New Jersey ramen lab.

  In the two days it took Sylvie and her team to clean out the wreckage at the restaurant, a new layout improving efficiency in her business started percolating in her head. To implement her new ideas, she would need additional financing. Nate was pissed at her because she turned down his offer. Maybe it was her pride, but she didn’t want their relationship to begin with her taking his money.
BSI made millions, and the amount she needed wouldn’t even dent his bank account, but she knew Nate would never ever ask for re-payment. She told him she would keep the offer at the back of her mind, because if things got desperate enough, more than her pride would be at stake.

  Right now, she and Kato were huddled together by the kitchen counter typing up a campaign proposal for a project to raise $20,000 on RevivalTrail, a popular crowd funding website for businesses reinventing themselves and needing an influx of cash. This included the breakdown on where the twenty grand would be spent. Visibility and accountability were important for these types of projects. Kato also managed their Facebook page—Sylvie barely had time to even look at it—and according to her assistant, there was a deluge of messages of sympathy and inquiries by Sapporo Ramen fans offering their help. This was what planted the idea for the campaign.

  “We need stronger burners for the broth,” Sylvie said. “We also need bowls, platters, and a host of other utensils that got destroyed in the kitchen fire. I also want to invest in sous-vide equipment.”

  “Immersion circulators?” Kato asked.

  “Yes. For the eggs and pork shoulder.”

  “I’m liking your ideas,” her assistant grinned and scribbled it down. “How about rewards for each level of backers?”

  “Mom is designing our campaign logo. That would go on swag and t-shirts. A $1000 backer will be getting a special five-course dinner for four, inclusive of wine.”

  “Yoshida is doing special treatment?” Kato chortled.

  Sylvie slapped him on the arm with the back of her hand. “Shut up. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

  “You know we wouldn’t have to be doing this if you’d just suck it up,” Kato said slyly. “Your boyfriend is loaded.”

  Nate. That son of a bitch.

  “I see said boyfriend is trying to recruit you to his way of thinking,” Sylvie retorted.

  “Can you blame him? He’s desperate to help you, and yet you banished him to the main house.”

  “I did not banish him. He had something to discuss with Porter and Caitlin—she’s some kind of computer expert . . . if you know what I mean.”

  Kato’s eyes widened. “She’s a hacker?”

  Sylvie gave a noncommittal response.

  Just then, Taylor ambled over with a plate of egg rolls. “I fried some of these to sample before we closed them up. I think it needs a little more salt or fish sauce.”

  A chef friend of Sylvie ordered two thousand egg rolls to serve as appetizers for a Chinese banquet this weekend. They brought in a burner from their restaurant and set it outside the guesthouse so they could fry the rolls on Saturday morning.

  Sylvie took a bite; Kato did the same. Both of them chewed thoughtfully. “Fish sauce?”

  Kato nodded.

  “You heard him, Taylor,” Sylvie said. “I’d say two teaspoons in each bowl plus a couple of turns of the pepper mill and you should be set.”

  Nana walked in to the guesthouse with Sam behind her carrying reusable shopping bags filled with groceries. “I’m ready to help with the egg rolls, Taylor. Let me just put these groceries away.”

  “Perfect timing, Agnes,” Taylor replied and offered her the plate with samples. “Egg roll?”

  Her grandma enthusiastically took a piece.

  “Sylvie, the rest of the groceries are in Nate’s house. I’ll be cooking and serving dinner there since this kitchen is occupied.”

  “Good idea, Nana. We need all the room in the fridge for the egg rolls.”

  “We’re having two additional couples for dinner,” Nana added, taking a bite out of the appetizer. “Umm, this is good, Taylor, but it needs something—”

  “Fish sauce,” the three of them piped in unison.

  “I know Caitlin and Travis are staying for dinner. Nate’s in a meeting with them right now,” Sylvie said. “Who’s the other couple?”

  “Porter’s daughter and her fiancé.”

  “Beatrice is coming to dinner?” Sylvie arched a brow.

  “Yes.” Her grandma cast her a meaningful look.

  Sylvie chewed on her bottom lip. “This should be interesting.”

  *****

  Nate leaned back against his desk, hands gripping the edge, as he listened to Caitlin’s findings. Travis lounged back against the couch beside his wife, a grim expression on his face. Porter was standing by the window, staring outside with his hands linked behind his back.

  There was evidence that Daichi Yoshida was on the move.

  “He’s been using several aliases,” Caitlin said. “There is no obvious money trail, but I’ve been tracking communication and digital footprints.” Travis’s wife freelanced for the NSA, so Nate wasn’t surprised how she was able to piece together such intel. “There was a charter flight that arrived from Japan at JFK yesterday. The company who owns the plane makes regular trips, so there is nothing out of the ordinary in its flight plan, but this company is also a well-known sympathizer of the ACS.”

  “How do we know Daichi was on that flight?”

  “There were no cameras in the hangar, but I was able to pick up cell phone conversation from our signal database. They were burner phones, so we can’t trace the owner. The discussion was brief and it originated around that sector in the airport. I ran it through our translator software. There is mention of getting to his daughter in Washington, D.C. The voice signature is a 99 percent match to Daichi Yoshida.” Cat drew in a deep breath. “Sylvie’s father is coming for her, Nate.”

  “You know what I say to that?” Nate snarled, his skin crawling with the force of his anger. “Over my dead fucking body.” He wanted to smash something or throw a chair out the window, but he calmed himself down and sucked in a ragged breath. Losing his head right now was a bad idea. He’d protected his country from terrorist scum; he could damn well protect his woman from her criminal father. “What else do you have?”

  “Hiroshi Mori has gone to ground. He’s abandoned the house—”

  “I already know that,” Nate cut in.

  “Nate,” Travis said his name in warning.

  Taking another deep breath, and fully understanding his friend’s own protectiveness toward his wife, he nodded for Cat to go ahead.

  “He suddenly went radio silent, not leaving tracks. I’d say he’s still in D.C. If he moved out of the area, I would have picked up something,” Cat said. “His men in the hospital have been turned over to federal custody. Not a peep from Hiroshi at all.”

  “He’s a sniveling coward. You think Sylvie’s dad is meeting up with him?”

  “Possibly. The main thrust of the ACS right now is controlling the pipeline of Chinese ephedrine into the U.S. As far as I can infer from all the intel around me, he’s been talking with the Chinese heads of the ACS more than its Japanese counterparts. There is a disagreement with how to split the profit, but there is not enough dissent to threaten Sylvie. However, Mori’s loyalties could be in question.”

  “I’ve heard the rumors of supplanting Daichi Yoshida as the leader,” Nate said.

  “I’d say there is a strong possibility,” Cat concurred.

  “I don’t like where this is heading.” Nate straightened from his stance and looked over to Porter who had been silent this whole time. “Admiral?”

  “The way I see it, Mori wants to marry Sylvie so no one could question him taking over from Daichi. Illegitimate daughter or not, her blood is Yoshida’s—an original leader of ACS. Its members won’t care how Daichi is taken down as long as there is a Yoshida in the leadership. This doesn’t explain the explosion in the restaurant. Nothing has happened that would merit such action nor trigger Daichi’s sudden trip across the Pacific.” The admiral locked eyes with Nate. “There is a third player. A dangerous one.”

  Just what he needed to hear, but gut instinct told him the admiral was correct.

  “Cat, is there anything else you found that would support Ben’s theory?” Travis asked his wife.

  “There is one th
ing I’ve picked up,” Cat said. “The Nagano Prefecture is where the chemical facilities controlled by the ACS are located. There seems to be a convergence of security around one of their labs. One biochemist in particular is under heavy security.”

  “Which one?”

  “Toshiro Endo developed something called Glutathione Derivative Enzyme.”

  “We’re circling back to the GDE pills,” Nate muttered. “What the hell could be so important about that cosmetic drug? Could it be the pure form that was given to Nana that this other player is after? A miracle therapy for liver disease?”

  “You may be on to something there, Nate,” Porter said reflectively. “If I remember correctly, the note Sylvie received was some sort of warning to her father.”

  “That’s correct,” Nate said.

  “And there’s no internal upheaval at the ACS that would indicate the leaders are turning on each other?” Porter directed this question to Caitlin.

  “None. It’s business as usual, except for Mori,” Caitlin said. “He’s the wildcard. However, he stands to lose an advantage if Sylvie is killed.”

  “Mori’s attack on me that night had nothing to do with the bombing at the restaurant,” Nate stated. “It was purely coincidental.”

  “I believe so,” the admiral said. “Caitlin, do a search on the indications for Glutathione. Crosscheck with current clinical trials and any other drugs in development.”

  “I would hit the big three.” Nate had done his research on Glutathione when Sylvie first got into trouble. “It’s Parkinson’s, cancer, and liver disease.”

  Caitlin’s eyes widened. “You guys certainly know how to look beyond the obvious. Oddly, this makes sense.”

  It sure does, Nate thought grimly.

  *****

  “Would you like more polenta, Beatrice?”

  “Oh no, Mrs. Buchanan, I’m really stuffed,” the admiral’s daughter said while sitting back in her chair and patting her stomach. “Those crab cakes were fantastic. And the polenta . . . what did you put in it? It’s so creamy.”