A View to a Thrill (Masters and Mercenaries Book 7) (27 page)

Simon gestured to the only two seats left just as Jesse walked in the door. He’d cleaned up, and it looked like his aunt had worked her magic. Jesse was looking rather civilized in a pair of slacks and a light dress shirt. He’d forgone the tie, but likely lost the battle over the dress shoes. His normal boots were gone and in their place was an elegant set of loafers.

“I’ll stand,” Jesse said, moving to Simon’s back.

“No. It’s okay. You can take the chair.” Chelsea put both hands on the table in front of her and started to lower herself down.

Startled, Simon caught her before she could hit the floor.

She looked up, a soft smile on her face. “Thanks. I don’t do that very well. I guess I should practice more. And do a whole lot of yoga.”

He had to stop because she was so beautiful and felt so damn right in his arms. “What are you doing, Chelsea?”

She bit that bottom lip, and he couldn’t help but wonder what her mouth would look like wrapped around his cock. “I didn’t read our contract, but I do know that most Doms like their subs to sit at their feet for long talks. Was that in our contract?”

What kind of game was she playing now?

“Dennis, could you do the submissive crap quickly?” Ten asked, his expression deeply irritated. “I have a meeting to run here.”

Her eyes widened and her skin went the prettiest shade of pink.

“Get the chair.” He wasn’t about to have her sitting at his feet during a meeting. They weren’t in a club and this wasn’t a McKay-Taggart meeting where no one would question or look down on a woman sitting at his feet. There was nothing he wanted more but this wasn’t the place. “Sit down. He needs to start the meeting.”

She flushed again, red this time as embarrassment flooded her system. She pulled away and straightened up, all her easy sensuality fleeing in a second. “Oh, uhm. Yeah. Sorry.” She moved to get the chair, and he realized this was her concession.

He had two choices and he wouldn’t get a second chance. She’d tried and she wasn’t the kind of girl who would try again. She would go back into her shell.

She’d flirted with Ten. He should let her sit in her chair and not give a goddamn that she was hurt. It didn’t matter. She’d made her choice.

Or had she? She was naïve enough about men and sex that she could think she could handle Ten. She could think she was doing good for their little team.

No one ever asked me to dance before.

He was an idiot. He reached out and grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. “You sit in my lap. That’s what’s in our contract. Jesse, take the chair.”

He tugged on her hand until she moved, falling on his lap. It was an easy thing to maneuver her where he wanted. Her arms went around his neck and her head fell against his shoulder.

And he felt that odd peace that came to him when she wasn’t railing or yelling or pushing him away. When they finally connected, he felt something deep inside fall into place. This sense of contentment was why he kept trying, why he would likely always keep trying. He smoothed back her hair and let her settle down as Jesse sank into the chair beside them.

“Really? You’re going to play it that way?” Ten asked.

He didn’t give a damn what Ten thought. “You can conduct your meeting or I’ll take my submissive back to our room. She’s tired and has had a long day.”

“What’s a submissive?” The slightly smaller of the new Tags leaned over toward Michael. “Is that what the Brits call a submersible? Because we don’t really have anywhere to put that out here.”

Jesse leaned over, his voice low. “It’s good to not be the dumbest person in the room for once.”

Ten’s brows raised, but he ignored Jesse. “You boys haven’t kept up with your erotic romance reading, have you? One of the things you should know about the McKay-Taggart team is every man among them is into BDSM and they tend to call their women subs. That’s short for submissives. They want their women to submit in the bedroom, but don’t take that term too seriously. Those women will cut a man who isn’t their Dom down to size.”

“Sometimes we cut our Doms down to size, too,” Chelsea said with a smile.

“So this dude who supposedly is my brother and who might show up here at some point in time to get his ass kicked is also a complete pervert,” Case Taggart said with a nice long roll of his eyes. It was obvious Ten had filled him in, but he still wasn’t impressed with his new family.

Chelsea sat up. “Hey…”

And he gently brought her back down. He didn’t need anyone to defend him against perfectly reasonable accusations. He was a pervert. He enjoyed it immensely. It was so much more fun than being vanilla. “Darling, relax. If all Ten brought us here for is to call me names, this is going to be a short meeting. And I, for one, will pay to watch that little boy over there get schooled by his brother.”

“He is not my brother,” Case said, his ice blue eyes narrowing. “He’s just some dude who happens to share my DNA. He can bite me for all I care.”

Oh, Ian wouldn’t just bite him. He would have the poor boy for lunch, and likely sooner than he thought. “Could we move on?”

He wanted to get her alone. He needed to figure out how to handle her. Hell, he needed to figure out how to handle the whole situation. His intentions were pure. He wanted to get her away from Ten and protect her so Ian had time to figure out exactly what was going on, but how was he going to do that when his face was all over the evening news?

It was something to think about, but more than that he had to ensure her loyalty to him and not to Ten. When the whole thing went to hell—and he was certain it would—he needed to make sure it was him Chelsea looked to to save her pretty ass. There was one way he knew of to gain a woman’s loyalty and that was treating her right in the bedroom. Chelsea was addicted to the pleasure he could give her. What if he showed her even more?

Or perhaps he was just trying to come up with any excuse to get inside her. He no longer cared.

“I started receiving some intelligence that certain factions within the group we call The Collective were looking up information on the shadowy figure known as The Broker. For those of you who haven’t read my memos—yes, Boomer, I write those for a reason and not for you to doodle on—the woman currently purring like a kitten in Weston’s lap is The Broker.”

Chelsea sat back up. “I’m not purring.”

Simon eased her back. She certainly had been. “My client refuses to confirm the identity of the person known only as The Broker. On advice of counsel, of course.”

“You aren’t licensed to practice in the States, Weston,” Ten shot back.

“I believe you’ll find I am.” Or he would be after Chelsea hacked the bar’s website and made him a member. “I’m Oxford trained. Certain companies find my experience in European law very useful.”

“Malone Oil included,” Michael added. Or rather lied. He’d never worked a day for his uncle in a legal fashion. “But my cousin’s resume isn’t on trial here. Now I did read the memos, unlike Boomer, who doesn’t read anything that doesn’t involve sports scores.”

Boomer frowned. “I got ADD.”

Michael moved on. “So let’s just say that somehow this group, for whatever reason, decided that Chelsea here is The Broker. Why were they looking for her, and what does any of this have to do with the death of a federal judge?”

Now Simon was the one sitting up a bit straighter. “Federal judge?”

Ten held a hand up. “I didn’t send you the memo. All right, here’s how this went down. I’ve got an operative of my own in place at a corporation I know is in The Collective.”

“Then why the hell don’t we shut the corporation down?” Jesse asked.

Simon could answer that one. “We very likely don’t have enough proof and besides, I would bet anything that key politicians in several governments hold stock in the corporations.”

“I’ve already proven that.” Chelsea sat up but kept an arm around Simon’s neck for balance. “After that douchebag Baz died, I got into his laptop and found some information on a couple of the companies. They have a firm grip on a bunch of American, British, and EU politicians, not to mention ties to several criminal organizations.”

“And those are just two of the smaller companies,” Ten continued. “There’s no telling just how deeply entrenched The Collective is within our government, although it seems to me they haven’t managed to make great headway with the judicial branch if they’re doing what I suspect they’re doing.”

“You think they’re assassinating judges who might find against them?” It wouldn’t be unheard of. Trials cost time and money, and a class action could cost a company everything. Even a large corporation would likely prefer to settle lawsuits rather than waste resources. “Why not settle?”

“Because this was a case of patent infringement and there’s a couple billion on the line.” Ten’s fingers drummed against the desk. “This particular case involves crystal technology.”

Chelsea squirmed a little, making his dick jump. “Seriously? Holy crap. I need to read that. I heard there was a breakthrough.”

Theo leaned in. “What are you talking about? I get the feeling it’s not new-age crystals.”

She was squirming again. He’d noticed when she got excited it was hard for her to stay still. Unfortunately, her excitement was doing amazing things for his cock. He had to hold it together so he didn’t end up making another mess of his trousers. “Quantum computers are the way of the future, but we don’t have the means to power them yet.”

“Quantum computers are the ones that would use qubits versus bits, correct?” Case Taggart proved he didn’t have the same problems as Boomer.

Chelsea nodded. “Yes. The computers we use today run on bits. 1s and 0s. So they operate in one of…you know what this is actually very mathematically interesting. Can I get a white board?”

He had to reign her in or they would all get a lecture on quantum supposition. “Darling, let’s skip the mathematics and just say that any number of corporations would love to get their hands on the next evolution in computer technology. The crystal would replace the storage systems we use now. Quantum computers are so fast they tend to overheat and burn out very quickly, hence the ones in development now are kept in sub-zero temperatures.”

Chelsea turned slightly to look at him. “You know about quantum computers?”

He let his hand slip to her hip. Her face was the nicest shade of pink. “Of course. I try to keep up. Later, if you like, we can debate whether or not quantum computers disprove the Church-Turing thesis.”

The sexiest little huff came out of her mouth. “Not in their current iteration but surely later they will. I can’t believe you know what that is.”

He’d kept that in his back pocket. At first he’d simply wanted to understand her world, and now he realized he could get her hot just by proving he had a brain in his head. “I look forward to the debate.”

“I think they’re having math sex,” Jesse whispered to Theo.

Ten huffed. “Yeah, well, they need to have it on their own time. And it’s more than corporations that want that technology. The NSA is very intrigued and honestly they don’t care who comes up with the tech as long as they get their hands on it first.”

“You believe the NSA is involved?” Simon asked. He didn’t want to have to deal with both the CIA and the National Security Agency. Their turf wars could get a man killed. Or a woman.

“The NSA is always involved,” Ten replied. “And that’s what makes this a delicate operation. The judge in this case was a deep believer in intellectual property rights. He tended to side with whoever could prove they knew the property inside and out. It was a fairly good bet that in the case of Coleman vs. the Nieland Corporation, the little guy was probably going to win. Even if he hadn’t, the judge had put an injunction on any further development or use of the tech until the trial was over.”

Simon could see the outcome of that particular order. “And Nieland’s stock took a hit.”

“It plummeted. They lost roughly half a billion in a week.”

That was enough to kill for. “How did the judge die?”

Ten’s eyes tightened. “That’s my problem. The man had a heart attack.”

“There are several poisons that could mimic or cause a heart attack.”

“No. The toxicology reports are all clean.”

“If The Collective can kill a judge, they can surely buy off a coroner and some lab techs,” Chelsea said. “I could try to find some connections if you would let me have a laptop.”

“I bet you would find connections to all kinds of things.” Ten shook his head. “No. You can answer some questions for me though. My corporate mole ran across your name and a Dallas address in the same file as some notes on the court case. I can’t find the connection, but I’m thinking you might. That wasn’t the first time they came after you. Weston wouldn’t have you in that sleazy motel if he’d had another option. Tell me something, why didn’t you call in Big Tag?”

“Chelsea didn’t want to involve her sister,” Simon explained. It wasn’t the entire truth, but Ten didn’t need to know everything. “How did you find us?”

“The minute I connected Chelsea’s name to the case, I had someone watching her.”

The man they’d code named Ace held up his hand. He was a tad bit older than the rest, with a little gray at his temples, but he had a lean body corded with muscle. “That would be me. I got to follow you all over Dallas. You couldn’t have stopped somewhere for a sandwich or something? I got a little loopy from hunger. Next time think about your potential stalker and take a break.”

He could buy that Chelsea wouldn’t notice a tail. She’d always relied on Charlotte for that and she’d had a rough morning that day. But she hadn’t been alone that night. “And you’re trying to tell me you tailed us to the motel?”

Jesse leaned forward. “I can bust a tail. We didn’t have one that night. I would have known.”

“Would you?” Ten asked. “I assure you, you had a tail and you should be damn glad you did or those boys would have mowed you down the next day.”

Simon held his tongue but it didn’t completely make sense. If Ten had known where they were why would he wait to take them? Had he been watching them the whole time? Jesse would have felt it. Jesse always knew. He had a sixth sense about it. If Jesse said no one had been following them, then no one had physically been following them.