Her Officer in Charge (3 page)

“Please, allow me,” he offered, reaching out to help.

“I can manage, I’ve almost got it,” she grunted as she tugged.

“You shouldn’t be doing this sort of thing,” he argued, attempting to take them from her.

“I’m used to doing things by myself,” she quipped, yanking them back.

“You’re not by yourself right now,” he said firmly. “I’m the officer in charge here, and if you get hurt I’ll be responsible. Please put them down.”

He saw a blush cross her face, just as he had when they’d been introduced, and he found it both charming and amusing. The girl wasn’t as tough as she would have people believe, but blush or no blush, she wasn’t cooperating. The double-decked chairs were still in her arms, and he knew they were heavy, certainly too heavy for her to hold for very long. She could strain her back, or drop them and get hurt.

“Now!” he barked.

He hadn’t meant to snap, at least, not quite so sharply, but it did the trick, and with a scowl she lowered them to the floor.

“Am I supposed to salute and say yes, sir?” she glowered.

“No, you’re supposed to say ‘thank you,’” he glowered back.

Her emerald eyes blazed back at him, unmoving and challenging. It was something he rarely witnessed. Women melted under his scolding stare, and even some of his men wilted from his steely gaze. She was strong-willed and a brat, and she certainly possessed the moxie to be the guilty party.

“Thank you for the help,” she said quietly. “I’ll leave you to finish. You can ask Scott if you have any questions.”

He turned and watched her walk away, but where she was headed he had no idea. He hadn’t yet shown her the dressing room.

“I’ll take care of these chairs,” Scott offered, walking toward the dance floor.

“Thanks,” Vince replied.

“She’s not easy sometimes.”

“Yeah, I get that. Do you know where she went?”

“Probably my car.”

“Ah, parked out front?”

“Yep.”

“Thank you.”

Walking quickly from the room and out the front door, Vince saw her sitting in the passenger seat of Scott’s Mustang, and not sure what he was going to say, he moved slowly down the pathway.

“Let me guess,” she called, turning to face him. “I’m not supposed to be sitting here in this car without a soldier watching over me.”

“This is a marine base, we have marines here,” he corrected her as he reached the car, “and why would you say that?”

“I’m not supposed to wander the grounds by myself. Didn’t you know that?” she asked sarcastically.

“Sitting there isn’t exactly wandering the grounds,” he replied. “I’m sorry I barked at you, but as I said, I am responsible for your safety while you’re at this event. If you don’t do as I ask, I have to bark.”

“Is it worse that your bite?” she retorted.

He crossed his arms and stared at her. She was being a total brat, and he suddenly realized she knew she was being a brat.

My goodness. What do we have here? Isn’t this one for the books? All right, young lady, you’ve thrown down the gauntlet. Let’s just see which one of us has the biggest
cajones
.

Unfolding his arms, he placed his hands on the edge of the open window and, leaning his head down, he locked her eyes.

“Is my bite worse than my bark? Keep up the attitude and you’ll find out,” he threatened, his tone low and deep, then, slowly straightening up, he turned and marked back inside.

Entering the foyer, he called over to one of his lieutenants, a young man named Frank Mead.

“Frank, when Soraya comes back, please show her to the small room at the end the hall, you know the one I mean. She can use that as her dressing room.”

“Yes, sir.”

“If you need me, I’ll be in the office here.”

“Yes, sir.”

Vince Valenti closed and locked the door, then walked to the window and stared down at the car. She was getting out, and as she turned to close the car door, his eyes caught sight of her full round cheeks clearly outlined in her tight, sexy jeans. He’d locked his door because he had a problem; a raging erection that needed to be dealt with, and the sight of her inviting backside had just made the issue even more urgent. Walking quickly into the tiny bathroom, he unzipped his trousers, leaned against the wall, and withdrew his cock.

“You need to be across my knee,” he muttered as he fervently massaged himself. “You need to be spanked into next week. You won’t be able to hypnotize yourself out of that, Bella Montgomery. I will turn your ass as red as a sun-ripened tomato.”

He grunted and groaned as the image took hold and his moment engulfed him. A few minutes later, as he cleaned himself up, he stared at his reflection and shook his head.

“What the hell? You’d better watch yourself. That girl is getting to you, and you know you can’t let that happen.”

Chapter Four

When Bella had walked back inside, a young marine had shown her to a dressing room. It was at the end of a short hallway that ran off the foyer and skirted the side of the staircase. Though it was small, it came with a bathroom, and for that she was very grateful. Rarely did a dressing room offer the convenience of a shower.

“If you need anything, just let me know. Ask for Second Lieutenant Frank Mead.”

“Can’t I just ask for Frank?” she asked with a wink.

“Uh, sure,” he nodded, then, obviously flustered, he hurried away.

Her composure had been a facade, and, sinking onto the couch, she closed her eyes. The dashing Captain Valenti had positively curled her toes, and she was beside herself.

“My God, I am totally in a crush,” she muttered, “but why was I so rude to him? Crap! What am I saying? It doesn’t matter. I’ll be leaving here in a couple of hours and that will be the end of it. What happened was nothing but a momentary flirtation. I have to ignore it, pretend it never took place.”

Determined to put the episode behind her, she stretched out on the couch, took a deep breath, and began to mentally prepare for the show. She needed at least an hour of uninterrupted peace. Scott would have told everyone not to disturb her, so she closed her eyes and began to run through the act in her head, but the square-jawed, handsome face and penetrating gaze of Captain Valenti suddenly injected itself.

You need a spanking, Bella Montgomery, and I’ll be happy to oblige.

She bolted upright and her eyes darted around the room.

What the hell? Where did that come from? Oh, this is not good, not before a show, this is not good at all.

Walking into the small bathroom, she splashed her face with cold water and glowered at her reflection.

“This is ridiculous,” she said out loud. “You have a show to do. Forget him, just forget him. Go back, stretch out, and prepare.”

Returning to the couch, she lay back down, closed her eyes, and focused. It wasn’t easy, and it took her a little while, but she found the mental zone, and the show began playing itself out in her mind’s eye.

It was a little while later when she was applying glitter gel to her hair that she found the alluring officer in charge creeping back into her mind, but her thoughts weren’t about him taking her in hand. She found herself wanting to impress him, and hoping he’d like her show.
A knock made her jump, and, moving quickly from the bathroom, she opened the door and found Scott beaming from ear to ear.

“What, why are you so happy?” she asked as he walked past her into the room.

“You will not believe this crowd,” he chuckled. “You are going to have a great show.”

“I am?”

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded. “Don’t look so worried, it’s gonna be awesome.”

“You always know the right thing to say,” she sighed. “Thank you.”

“Hey, how many shows have we done together? If I don’t know you by now you should fire me, and Bella, I saw how you were with that Captain Valenti. Forget about him and focus on the show. It’s a great crowd. Everyone’s laughing, they’re hyped that you’re here, and there are some guys who are dying to become your victims. They saw your picture and that did it for them.”

“You have my banner up?”

“Of course. It’s on an easel in the foyer. It’s the first thing people see when they walk in the door. The air is alive, Bella; you’ll be amazing, I can feel it. Are you ready to knock off some socks?”

“Yes, I am, I most definitely am,” she said emphatically.

“I’ll get everyone settled and start the music. You don’t need it, but good luck.”

“Thanks, Scott, I love you to bits.”

“I love you too,” he grinned, and kissed her on the cheek before he walked quickly from the room.

Returning to her temporary makeup station, Bella applied a second layer of scarlet lipstick. Her foundation was pale with no blush on her cheeks, and since most people were under the mistaken impression that hypnotists used their eyes to spin their magic, her eyeliner was styled after Cleopatra. The result was striking. Thick red lips and an Egyptian cat’s eyes. Hearing the theme from the
Twilight Zone,
her intro music, she shot herself a confident smile, then, hurrying to open the door, she waited to hear Scott’s introduction.

“Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves for a night of mysticism, hypnotism, and laughs. Please offer a warm welcome to Soraya, the Mistress of Mesmerism.”

The applause started, and Bella strode from the bedroom, down the short hallway, through the foyer, and took center stage on the dance floor. She knew she looked striking in her long, glittering black gown emblazoned with stars and moons, and as she accepted the microphone from Scott, he gave her a wink and a nod. He always did; it was how he gave her a final boost. She began the banter, explained how the show would develop, and finished with the line that always brought a laugh.

“If I can’t bring you out of your hypnotic state, which, yes, does happen quite often, I have a warehouse where you can join the others who are still wandering around in a daze. You’ll have plenty of company.”

She waited for the laughter to die away, then asked for volunteers. There were twenty chairs in place, and there were more than enough people to fill them.

As Soraya weaved her seductive web, Vince Valenti, standing at the side of the room, watched with growing admiration. She had the audience in the palm of her hand, and he found her captivating. After eliminating several people, she offered each of her remaining subjects a lemon, telling them it was the most delicious orange they’d ever eaten, and he watched, greatly amused, as the pretenders attempted to keep a straight face.

You are something else, Bella Montgomery. I don’t believe you’re an operative, not for a minute, and I’m going to get to know you better. Someone like you doesn’t come along every day, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you drive away never to be seen again. I’ll have to wait till this breach of security is resolved, but then I’m going to pursue you, and if you reject me, so be it, but I have to try.

The show continued, and she ended up with six excellent subjects. Among them was a man she guessed to be in his late twenties. He’d introduced himself as Bryce, and he had emerged as the star, so she chose him for one of her favorite scenes. All six subjects were slumped in their chairs, deep in their hypnotic sleep, and approaching him, she touched his shoulder.

“Bryce, you are a famous director and I’m a reporter,” she began. “You’re going to tell me about your latest film, the name of it, and why you decided to direct it. One, two, three, open your eyes.”

The audience was spellbound as they waited for him to respond, and behind her on the stage, standing at his sound board, Scott was ready to hit an effect or a music cue to highlight whatever Bryce might say.

“Hi. Are you the reporter?” Bryce asked Bella the moment he opened his eyes.

“I am, my name is Soraya. Tell me about your film.”

“Oh, man, I’m so stoked about this movie,” he said, slapping his thigh with his hand. “I’m doing a sequel to
Vixens of Venus
.”

A tittering rippled through the crowd, and Bella waited until it had died down before continuing.

“I’m not sure I’ve heard of that film. What can you tell me about it, and why the sequel?”

“It was the worst film ever made,” he groaned, the surprise comment adding to the chuckling from the crowd, “but it was filled with these gorgeous girls with huge tits. How can I not make a sequel?”

Scott hit a rim-shot. It was the perfect exclamation mark, and the room fell into laughter.

“It sounds like you’ll have your hands full,” she quipped, bringing a few smart comments from the audience.

“Well, yeah, that’s what I’m hoping for,” he said with a wide grin, then unexpectedly began chortling and shaking his head.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Actresses can be difficult, and there’s only one way to deal with difficult divas,” he exclaimed. “I was just wondering how many of them I’ll be lucky enough to spank.”

Shocked at his comment, Bella hesitated, but only for a moment.

“You could get into trouble for something like that,” she declared.

“Only if I got caught, and I know a place where I can take them. A secret place that—”

“Okay, Bryce,” she interrupted, “stare at your finger. Touch it to your nose and it will put you to sleep.”

Bryce brought his finger in front of his face, touched his nose, and instantly slumped in his chair, sending the audience into hysterics. Bella had rescued the potentially embarrassing, even incriminating moment, but as her eyes scanned the room she spied Captain Valenti; he wasn’t laughing, he wasn’t even smiling.

As the act progressed, she stole glances in his direction, and to her relief his grim expression slowly transformed into one of amusement. Ending the show with the six participants performing the Rolling Stones hit from the sixties, “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction,” the music playing in the background, the short tantalizing scene with Bryce had simply become one of the many entertaining moments of the evening.

Leaving the room to a standing ovation, she hurried back to the dressing room, pulled off her high heels, and flopped on the couch. As usual she was exhausted, but she started giggling when she thought back to Bryce’s remark.