Code of Control (2 page)

Chapter Two

Nolan never felt
old after an all-nighter with an unknown female. Today, he did. Today, the
world had caught up to him. Using two part brains and one parts necessary
condoms, thankfully those condoms remembered at the last second, he’d taken his
chances with death by sex over death by bullet through the skull. A sex fest with
an incredible woman younger than he, however, had him exhausted and moving
slower than usual. Still, there were worse ways to die than screwing a hot babe.

He shoved open
the door to his office, was bombarded by a million questions and little time to
answer one of them successfully, most by co-workers who had no love life and seemed
constantly in his face.

“Hold my calls,
Beth.” His efficient secretary nodded and smiled at him. “Is my new recruit
here?” This time she shook her head.

“Sir? We need
your approval on this,” Bob asked, following on his heels.

Nolan turned and
glared. Bob backed off only a few feet. Sometimes office bloodhounds never knew
when to quit pestering the boss.

“What am I
signing my life away to now?” he muttered, accepting the pen in Bob’s hand.

“The new
equipment you ordered for Tactical Team 1.”

As he glanced at
the forms, his thoughts settled into almost livable. “And what sort of
equipment was that?” He could not remember ordering a damn thing. After last
night, he was surprised he could even remember his name. If forgotten, there
were at least twenty people on this floor that would, with infinite pleasure,
hurriedly remind him.

Bob’s brows
rose. “You should know. You ordered it, Boss.”

Nolan bit back a
nasty retort. It was too early and his hangover too strong to get into a row
with the office suckup. “If I knew, I would not be asking you, now would I?”

Bob seemed
efficiently scolded by this.

“Night vision
goggles, three I-pads, and an M80,” he squeaked out, rechecking the requisite
sheet stuck to his clipboard.

“What the fuck
do I need those for?” Nolan blurted, raising a roomful of eyebrows, as well as
his blood pressure. “Although the M80 is more than useable on any assignment,
I’m sure.”

It wasn’t, but
they were so damn fun to use.

“Not exactly
positive on what the reason for the I-pads, but this is what you ordered. I can
get you a copy of the email you’d sent me if there’s going to be a problem,”
Bob said.

“No, don’t
bother. I’m sure it’ll say I ordered this crap, for reasons unknown, to which
an ass will be chewed out because of the bill, likely that ass mine and that
bill enormous.”

Nolan then
turned to Beth, still awaiting answer from his original question. “Not yet, Sir,
but there is still time. He won’t be late,” she said, placing files in their proper
places. “None of them ever are.”

Beth was so cute
when being so efficient. Too bad her husband thought this, too.

“He…is a she,” Nolan
muttered rudely, expecting the usual eye rising from a woman off his conquest
list.

Suddenly, the entire
room came to life, yet he was mildly surprised inappropriate comments were not coming
out of his co-workers, or snide remarks about a female being unable to do the
job. Or telling him he’d outright gone insane this time.

Each of his team
was male, and this would be the first female on the task force in a long time…if
and whenever she shows for her final interview. A hurried glance at his watch
did not make him feel ready to face a female recruit, however. Hell, after last
night, he needed a break.

Just the thought
of last night’s hooker had his suit pants tenting. He turned quickly, knowing Beth
would be appalled, give him a boatload of crap for being crass and careless,
and he was in no mood to hear ‘I told you so’ from his secretary. She had her
ways and most of them maternal with virginal overtones.

“Just hold my
calls,” he said gruffly, slamming his office door shut.

Five minutes
later, in the middle of responding to emails, his intercom buzzed. “Yes, Beth?”

“Your interview
is here.”

A quick glance
at his watch confirmed the woman was seven minutes early.

“Thank you. Send
her in, please.”

He stood,
adjusted his tie, did a quick teeth brush with the side of his finger, and
waited. Whoever stepped through the door was highly competent, the best in her
field, and made his rookie days seem like the Little Leagues. She knew her
stuff, could shoot a man between the eyes from 430 yards away, and she never
missed a day of work in six years. He liked that. It meant she had guts and
would give him a run for his money. Dependable and dangerous: two words he
could actually live with at this point.

The door opened
slowly; Nolan’s breathing held, while unbelievably walked into his office every
man’s waking nightmare—the ghost of last night. His mouth slacked as the
adrenaline inside him spiked to overload. She’d barely made it two steps inside
the room before her cheeks inflamed into deep crimson, her expression morphing
into horror.

Pride alone seemingly
forced her feet into motion, her hand politely extended out to his.

“Mr. Morgan, I’m
your…um, new recruit, Charlotte Raven.”

Although her tone
of voice had steadied, there was no mistaking the tremble in her hand or the
flustered face as he reached for her palm.

Nolan was
floored, himself. He hid the
oh fuck!
aspect of this as best he could. Still,
he shook her hand, adjusting his stance to control his body’s reaction to
seeing her again.

“Please? Um, have
a seat, Ms. Raven.” He gestured to the open chair opposite his desk, then
cleared his throat. Out of the hotel, under harsh fluorescent lighting, she was
even more beautiful than he remembered.

Of course, that
memory was two lousy hours ago…

She sat, her
movements quick and nervous, her eyes probing for the smallest crack in his
hardened exterior.

Nolan rubbed his
neck. He had no cracks. Never would.

Hell, whom was
he kidding? His life was riddled with cracks, all inaccessible to the naked eye
due to learning life’s lessons the hard way.

She frowned,
must have remembered why she was here, and then started up the conversation
again. “Um, sorry…Here are my credentials. It’s just a copy of what was already
faxed to you last week.”

He reached for
the manila envelope, touching her hand again; faked a smile he did not feel. He
then moved to behind his desk, sat down quickly, and set the envelope on his
desk. It was all he could do to hide his shock and the explosion of blood to
his lower extremities, her scent drawing him in, his body betraying him at the
worst possible moment.

Get a grip.
She’s not here for round two.

“What an odd
surprise.” Damn. He’d never meant to say this aloud. Still, she seemed as
confused as he was.

“Yes, quite the
surprise, isn’t it?” she mumbled dryly. For the moment, she clearly sounded annoyed
with him.

Nolan leaned
back in his chair, temporarily avoiding the interview. They took a long measure
of each other, then upon impulse his eyes lowered to her lusty chest. “Did you
know last night…about this?”

She shook her
head, her smoky blue gaze drawing his eyes higher, to the point of reprimanded
for
eyes up top, pal
.

“No. I guessed
it this morning, but can we discuss something else…anything else? Like my
credentials, please?”

Put in his
place, he nodded. “Um, sure thing…I’m supposed to interview you for the job,
aren’t I?”

“That is the
plan, today,” she said sweetly, yet her expression remained tight. The fact
she’d smoothed down strands of her hair convinced him she was not doing him any
favors, since her honey-tone was doing to do him what it did last night in a
real bad way.

He averted his
attention from her body to the envelope lying on his desk, clearly marked
confidential, almost desperate to convince his lower half to behave. Clearing
his throat again, he opened the envelope, giving his mind something to do other
than wondering if she had set him up last night. He’d never been off his game
this badly. Then again, he’d not thought of it as a game—just a one-night stand
going horribly wrong in the light of day.

There was
weariness in the way she took in every nuance about him, brows arched, staring
at him. She was judging him, looking for clues, a readied agent hard at work.

Damn. He
couldn’t
not
give her the job, now could he, after sleeping with her?
Then again, they hadn’t really slept together. Sexed, yes. Slept, no. Still, if
smart, he should not chance possible scandal headed his way. What they had was
a formidable, inebriated sex-fest, no holds barred. Mutual consent, mutual
consequences, mutual stupidity. Likely mutual hangover, although, if she had
one he couldn’t tell.

“I’m going to
man up here and just call it like I see it,” she said, breaking the silence. It
was a statement to pull his thoughts into organization. “We can either forget
last night happened….”

The expression
in her cool blue eyes then hardened on him.

Nolan interrupted
her before she blew a gasket. “And this morning…” Cracking a smile would be
pointless, so he frowned.

“Um, yes…and
this morning.” Her eyes widening, her cheeks still red, her brows formed a
formidable line. “Or we can turn a huge mistake into an even bigger mistake by making
a big deal out of last night and you not hiring me for this job. You know I am overqualified
for the team. I would not have gained an interview if you thought otherwise.”

This checked
him, tenfold. “In what ways are you overly qualified?” He tormented over all
the things he had done to her—hell, all she had done to him.

His eyes did a
leisure roam of her again; head to toe, his memories thickening the blood flow.
Handjobs? Blowjobs? Deep penetration?
She’d done all of those to and for
him last night, no complaints—just as a hooker would, if she’d really been one.
He’d never been a pushover for female charm, but the need was there, and her
pretty smile had drawn him in when seated at the bar to blow off a little steam
from long days and lonely nights.

She suddenly glared,
checking these thoughts.

“Um, yes…then
why do you want to be on my team, if overqualified? Never mind what happened last
night…and this morning. I’m sure we’re both big enough to work past that.”

He could not hold
back the sudden grin dare she held a gun to his head. This was simply too
amusing. Nolan Morgan, player of the century, FBI guru; early retirement from his
previous job due to an unfortunate injury—fucked a future employee without
knowing who she was. If that was not funny, nothing was. Then, openly calling
her a hooker; leaving her in a hotel room without a backward glance…

“Am I a huge
mirth to you, Mr. Morgan?” She’d shifted to the edge of her seat, had gotten
disturbingly quiet, but looked ready to battle just about anyone who walked
through his door, her back straight, blue eyes wide.

Her training was
remarkable.

“Yes,” he commented
dryly, smothering a laugh.

“Should I come
back some other time? More, would you say…when you are ready to do your job?”

Nolan’s amusement
went to wayside in breakneck speed. “My
job
?”

He sat up
straight, the amusement crumbling. “My
job
is to make certain I don’t
put anyone in the position of defending their life because of incompetence. My
job
…is
to make damn certain only the best are on my team. My
job
, sweetheart…,”
he sneered.

He had to pause,
her sudden grin throwing him off balance.

“Then do your
job
Mr. Morgan, and say yes to my requisition.”

Nolan stood,
rammed his hand through his hair, stalked over to the window, looking down. Any
deceptive quietness about this woman just blew up in his face. He did not like
it one bit when put in his place, especially when it was his name on the door,
not hers. Nevertheless, she smelled so good it was all he could do to control
the blood flowing to his cock. She must have showered in the hotel room after
he left.

Oh God! He
should not be picturing her in a shower, soap-slicked, at a time like this. He
whipped around and found her smiling.

“Am I amusing to
you, Ms. Raven?”

“Immensely,” she
giggled.

Nolan willed
himself back from jumping off the ledge of making a foolish move. “How so?” If
he was not allowed to laugh, why should she be able to think this funny?

“I would think
under the circumstances you to have no interest in me…whatsoever.”

“Who says I’m at
all interested in you, other than professionally?”

All she had to
do was raise her brows, contradicting this lie.