Authors: Anne Marsh
His Dark Bond (8 page)
C
HAPTER
E
IGHT
HAPTER
E
IGHT
W
hat the hell had she gotten herself into?
hat the hell had she gotten herself into?
Firing up her laptop, Nessa held her breath for long seconds. Without Net access, she was dead in the water. If the Fallen had overlooked the wireless card on her laptop, she figured that negligence wouldn’t last long.
Not if they were serious in this kidnapping attempt of theirs.
She had to get out of here. Her reaction to the Fallen’s leader was humiliating. What kind of woman lusted after her kidnapper?
Fingers trembling, she launched a chat application, tapping in her access code. When she placed the call to Genecore, knowing she probably only had minutes before the Fallen would pick up on her access, the foundation’s president picked up right away.
As if he’d been waiting for her call.
“You’re in,” he said, not waiting for her to launch into explanations. “Good.”
“Excuse me?”
“The Fallen picked you up. You have access to them and to their DNA. Everything you said you needed.”
This conversation wasn’t going the way she’d intended it to go. “You told me
you
had DNA samples. I intended to use those samples. I never agreed to go undercover and live with Goblins.” Unstable, psychotic, sexy Goblins.
you
had DNA samples. I intended to use those samples. I never agreed to go undercover and live with Goblins.” Unstable, psychotic, sexy Goblins.
“Details.” His cold voice rode roughshod over her objections. “Fresh samples are better. You agreed to work for me. I simply arranged for you to have the access you need.”
“You arranged to have me kidnapped.” She was supposed to ignore that? Work through it? He made her kidnapping sound like a brilliant career move. Like hell it was. She was a prisoner.
“I never agreed to this, and I could have been killed,” she snapped.
“No,” he said. “My team had their orders.”
Maybe, he just wanted her to finish her research. Maybe, his arranging her kidnapping was some sort of twisted version of grant funding. She didn’t think so, though. He’d set her up for something.
“This is not what I signed on for. The Fallen who headed up the search-and-retrieval was none other than the damn leader of the lot. He has no intention of seeing his plans head south.” And that was putting it mildly. “What you’ve landed me in is a mess. Of titanic proportions.”
The man on the other end didn’t hesitate. “This is the opportunity you need. Take it. Although I strongly suggest you avoid bonding with any of them.”
“No problem. I don’t do sexual bondage. Any more than I do forcible captivity.”
His cold voice cut her off. “If you do bond with one of them, I should point out that your mate would have unlimited access to your mind. If he took the time to look, he would know at once that you were a plant. You would not enjoy that discovery.”
Hell. This just got better and better, didn’t it? “I’m leaving. You can consider our partnership finished.” Partners did not conceal critical information—and they certainly did not orchestrate kidnappings. Nothing—not even her career and her research—was worth that. She didn’t do ethical gray areas.
There was a moment of silence on the other end, and she considered—and discarded—the idea of hanging up on her erstwhile partner. Too unprofessional. Too damn tempting. But she’d given in to temptation once already.
“Good luck,” he offered finally. “I suggest you focus on completing your research. When it is done and has been delivered, I will retrieve you.” Which meant he could retrieve her now, damn it. There had to be a way to negotiate an exit from this nightmare. “I think you will find it extremely difficult to walk out that door right now. The Fallen take their mates rather seriously. You will find that you go nowhere until you have satisfied them—or me.”
Ultimatums weren’t her favorite form of communication. Plus, the kind of marching orders Genecore had just laid on her made her want to do the exact opposite. Whether she got with the program or not, learning more about her captors was smart. A little informal observation was the logical course of action. So, the question really was, why wasn’t she observing the vidscreen for entrances and exits? Different views of the club were on full display in the bank of vidscreens occupying the west wall of Zer’s palatial personal suite.
Idly, she watched the comings and goings on the vidscreens, mentally jotting down times and players, cataloging features. Now, mentally, she ran down the probable ancestry of the dancers. Deciphering someone’s ancestry was impossible by looks alone. Hell, she was living proof of that. But the idle speculation kept her from screaming.
Her fingers itched to note her observations. There had to be paper in here somewhere. Place was like a damn hotel on some levels, so there should be a drawer with cheap-ass stationery and ballpoint pens. Sure enough, a quick rifle of the bedside drawer—she squelched the frisson of guilt for pawing through
his
things—and she was equipped. Nothing beat the sensual glide of black ink over paper—certainly not the frantic tapping of keys. Later, when she was writing everything up, putting her new knowledge into print-worthy form for a scientific journal, she’d use the laptop. But not until then.
his
things—and she was equipped. Nothing beat the sensual glide of black ink over paper—certainly not the frantic tapping of keys. Later, when she was writing everything up, putting her new knowledge into print-worthy form for a scientific journal, she’d use the laptop. But not until then.
Old-fashioned observation and recording—that was her thing.
The club was busy, even for a Friday night, packed to capacity with gyrating, drinking, pleasure-seeking patrons. The cameras afforded her an unparalleled view. She estimated fifty-plus in the mirrored lobby alone, all fighting to make it inside to the dance floor.
All human.
The Fallen were inside, waiting for their prey. Yeah, the humans jostling one another in the lobby had another think coming to them if they really believed they had the upper hand here.
Two Fallen by the first bar, their intense gazes focused on their female partners. No visible bonding marks, so, clearly, a hookup was in progress there. The human behind the bar kept up a steady stream of full glasses, sliding slim flutes and squat bourbon tumblers over the counter. A dark male hand reached out and stroked a feminine thigh, gliding higher. A drink spilled onto the bar, unnoticed.
Yeah, next.
She knew better than to look, but the sensual tableau of the club was better than a train wreck. Each new camera pan revealed more Fallen and the human women they were hell-bent on seducing. The numbers didn’t lie. Numerical data never did, but she wouldn’t have estimated the damage to be this high. Did none of them say no? Was the one constant that no woman could resist? There had to be some human capable of saying no.
Who was she kidding? She was looking for something—someone—in particular. Two screens over, she found him.
Zer.
The visceral jolt of pleasure that shot through her was baffling. Unexpected. There was no logical reason for her to react so strongly to
him
and not to his equally striking brothers. And yet here she was, leaning forward in her chair so that she could follow his face on the screen. When the pen dropped from her fingers, rolling silently away, she admitted the truth.
him
and not to his equally striking brothers. And yet here she was, leaning forward in her chair so that she could follow his face on the screen. When the pen dropped from her fingers, rolling silently away, she admitted the truth.
She was lost.
On Zer’s lap sat a tall, pale, and beautiful woman, apparently deposited there by Nael, who was still standing nearby. All too obviously, Nael had the caviar-and-champagne tastes his sensual smile promised. That was a Versace cocktail dress if Nessa didn’t miss her guess—and nothing like Nessa’s own practical business attire.
Hell ...
Nessa didn’t like the spike of emotion the woman’s presence in Zer’s lap aroused. Nael’s strong hands meant his female companion wasn’t going anywhere he didn’t allow, but, judging by the look on her face, she had no desire to go anywhere. Yeah, go figure.
Nessa didn’t like the spike of emotion the woman’s presence in Zer’s lap aroused. Nael’s strong hands meant his female companion wasn’t going anywhere he didn’t allow, but, judging by the look on her face, she had no desire to go anywhere. Yeah, go figure.
The female pretty much looked like she’d just found heaven and it would take a nuclear holocaust to dislodge her. That shouldn’t have bothered Nessa, but she still swallowed—hard—when Zer buried his face in the girl’s hair, wrapping that large, hot body of his around her.
The same body that had held her, first in the car and then in his suite.
Get over him
, she ordered herself. So what if she wanted him? He was light-years out of her league and came with a price tag she had no intention of paying. But that didn’t prevent her hormones from kicking into overdrive when she spotted him there on the vidscreen. Just hormones and a chemical reaction. That was all it was. But, God, it was a potent one. He was beautiful.
Get over him
, she ordered herself. So what if she wanted him? He was light-years out of her league and came with a price tag she had no intention of paying. But that didn’t prevent her hormones from kicking into overdrive when she spotted him there on the vidscreen. Just hormones and a chemical reaction. That was all it was. But, God, it was a potent one. He was beautiful.
Nael threaded his fingers through the blonde’s hair. His fingers tangled with Zer’s. Oh, God, the erotic image was burned into her mind. Sharing. These two had shared women before, were confident in their sensuality, their ability to make the woman in their arms see fireworks.
Nael slid down the woman’s body, unwrapping her like she was his Christmas present. Male fingers tugged at the zipper, and his hands stroked over the skin he’d uncovered. Followed the sensual path with his tongue. Nessa could all too easily imagine that tongue discovering her, tracing an erotic path over her breasts. No, not Nael. Zer. She shifted restlessly. She shouldn’t watch this.
Shouldn’t want those soft strokes for herself.
But, God, they were tempting.
He
was tempting.
He
was tempting.
So, there was a kink in her brain that couldn’t deny the voyeuristic pleasure of watching Nael with his partner. Didn’t want to, because it felt so damn good and it wasn’t hurting anyone. Soon, though, she was watching Zer’s face. The way his cock thrust against his black leather pants and the look of intense concentration and fierce hunger that lit his face.
To hell with it. Sliding a button free on her blouse, she stroked her own fingers along the smooth slope of her breasts. Heat crawled over her skin in a hot flush of desire. She was suddenly aware of the silky fabric of her bra cupping her breasts, her blouse clinging to her ribs.
On the vidscreen, Nael slid farther down the woman, eating at her through a wicked scrap of a thong. There was no sound, but the woman’s head fell back against Zer’s shoulder, her mouth opening on a soundless moan.
Of pleasure. Only pleasure.
Zer leaned forward, the muscles of his back bunching beneath the thin silk of his shirt. The woman perched on Zer’s lap like she damn well belonged there drove her fingers through his close-cropped hair. Nessa wanted to trade places with her and run as far and fast as she could at the same time. What would it be like to have all that fierce masculine sensuality trained on
her
?
her
?
Her breath caught, and, damn it, she was wet. For
him
.
him
.
The butter-soft leather of her chair was a sensual caress against her bared skin, a substitute kiss for the lover she couldn’t afford to take. She shouldn’t do this. She was supposed to be escaping, but, instead, she was spying on the most intensely erotic scene she’d ever witnessed. But she couldn’t stop watching.
On the vidscreen, Nael slid gently down his companion, his fingers spreading her ass. Dark pleasure spilled across her face and had Nessa’s own mind superimposing an image of Zer doing the same to her.
Zer’s eyes snapped up, that fierce, hooded gaze focusing on the security camera.
Oh, God.
He knew she was watching.
This time, his boys didn’t make a scene. The guards let Zer enter the elevator and punch the buttons for his private floor without so much as a word of protest. He ached, his cock a hard, needy weight, but the hunger was less now. The beast locked up inside him had drained enough from Nael’s newest find that it was unable to get out now. He knew he could walk through that door and not lay hands on Nessa. She’d be safe for tonight.
He considered knocking and dismissed the idea. This was his suite, and she needed to know that. Any rights to privacy she had, she had because he gifted her with them. That might make him an arrogant bastard, but he was the arrogant bastard who was going to keep her alive. Opening the door, he went in.
She sprang away from the vidbank as if she’d been burned. The pink flush spreading across her cheeks intrigued him, making his cock throb in hungry empathy. Christ, he could scent her arousal from across the room. Nael was on vidscreen, doing his thing. And Nessa St. James had been watching. How delicious was that?
“You’re a watcher.”
“No.” Her denial was two shades of uncertain. Maybe she hadn’t known she was a voyeur at heart, but she did now. Watching aroused her.
“Yes.” Closing the distance between them, he examined her face. “You like to watch. I like to watch.”
He’d never been anything but blunt in his sexual demands, and he wasn’t going to let her hide from how she felt tonight. She wanted him. He didn’t make mistakes about these things. Hell, he didn’t make mistakes. Other than one corker of a mistake three millennia ago, his inner voice mocked him. Yeah, that had been the mistake to end all mistakes. But he’d learned from it.
So, he stalked her, backing her up against the vid console. “A gift.” No strings, and he meant it.
He held out one large, male hand, and, God, was she tempted. She shouldn’t. Oh, she really shouldn’t. But it had been so long since she’d done something just for her. She knew it didn’t mean anything, couldn’t mean anything, so she wouldn’t get hurt. She wasn’t in the market for happily-ever-after, and, even if she had been, he wasn’t selling, anyhow.
Other books
Pretend Mom by Hestand, Rita
The Best Of Samaithu Paar by Ammal, S Meenakshi
Losing Pieces of Me by Briner, Rose
Lake Country by Sean Doolittle
Los muros de Jericó by Jorge Molist
It Takes a Village by Hillary Rodham Clinton
The Valley by John Renehan
Drag-Strip Racer by Matt Christopher
The Common Pursuit by F. R. Leavis
Summer of Love by Fforde, Katie