Love Needed (The Love Is Series) (2 page)

Her job was straightforward. Research sent her files on targets, and it was up to her to gain information from them. Research usually sent men her way, because she was charming and seductive, and even though she wasn't strikingly beautiful she knew how to carry and express herself in ways that drew attention.

It never took her very long before she got was she needed for Tactics to move in, she did whatever it took, and once that happened she ended the relationship she'd started, and moved on to the next case. She didn't know more than that, and she didn't care. Payment was more than good, and as long as she did her job meticulously, the Hounds stayed off her trail.

The other girls in the office often whispered to each other that she was cold and heartless, but she saw the men as jobs, and she found it easy not to get emotionally involved. That was probably why she kept to herself, and why she was one of Blackwell's best.

Two days later Cara's phone rang and she was summoned to Dr Mitchell's office. Chills ran down her spine, and she ran a mental check on everything that had happened that past couple of weeks, searching for a possible reason that Dr Mitchell himself would want to see her. She couldn't find anything, and then she suddenly remembered about the reports she'd sent through to Tactics for Natasha. Her stomach fell like lead, but she tried to shake it off. There’s no way the changes in the report could have been noticed, is there? She’d made sure of every step she took. On her way to the elevators she glanced over to Frank's desk, and he just shrugged at her. News travelled faster than wild fire through the company.

When she stood in front of the heavy wooden doors on the top floor, she straightened her shirt, ran a hand through her hair and swallowed hard, trying to calm herself. Then she pushed the buzzer, thinking it would be great to turn around and run, but forcing herself to keep composure. As scared as she was, it was better to jump head first into the fire than to keep Dr Mitchell waiting.

The office on the other side of the wooden doors was big and tidy. It was carpeted form wall to wall, with rows and rows of book cases against the wall, and a large desk in the middle. Behind the old leather chair, windows from floor to ceiling looked out over the city, and Dr Mitchell was standing there now, looking into the distance. His hands were clasped behind his back, his shoulders were square and serious and there wasn't a silver hair out of place.

When she entered the office the sweet smell of a cigar choked her. Fear has so many different smells, she thought.

Dr Mitchell turned around and looked at her but it was impossible to read his emotions. She wasn't sure if he had any. She remained standing by the door, until he curtly told her to take a seat. She sat on the edge, back straight, and folded her hands in her lap the same way Tash had done in her office two days before.

Dr Mitchell turned to the window again, and puffed on his cigar.

"Does Corview mean anything to you, Cara?"

"Isn't that the law firm, sir?"

"Yes, that's the one. I sent in a mole a couple of months ago. I'm alarmed at the feedback I've gotten recently. I want you to send someone in."

It was strange that Dr Mitchell was asking her to set up a team in person. All communication happened on paper through the proper channels.

"Right away. Is there anything specific I need to know?"

He turned to her and looked at her blankly, "Research will fill you in on what you need to know. This particular case is extremely important to me, to Blackwell. You can't afford to make any mistakes."

"Of course, sir. Is there anyone in particular you'd like me to put on the team?"

"Take Natasha, she's the best we have. I need someone to get in there as quick as possible."

Cara hesitated. She couldn't put Tash on it, the girl was unstable. But she couldn't say anything about it because she covered her tracks with the reports she tampered with. If she said anything now, it wouldn't be Tash's head only, it would be hers too. She breathed in deeply.

"We have other girls equally qualified, sir, if you would like me to set up--"

"I said I wanted Natasha!" he suddenly shouted, his emotionless face twisting into horrific anger, “Since when you do question my motives!”

"I'm sorry sir," she whispered quickly, "Of course; I'll set it up right away."

"Leave." was all he added to that, and she removed herself from his office as fast as she could.

In the elevator her hands started shaking and beads of sweat formed on her brow. She swallowed hard over and over again, trying to pull herself together. She didn't want the girls to see her like this, and by the time the doors opened she walked out calmly. When she passed Frank he looked at her questioningly, but she shrugged at him the same way he'd shrugged at her and shut her office door.

Natasha was in front of Cara's door again, but she already felt distant, and she wasn't as nervous as before. She'd thought about the Cullinan case so much that her brain was fried. She was sure now that she didn't do anything wrong, so it didn't matter what happened.

When Cara called her in she pushed the door opened and sat down without invitation.

Cara smiled at her.

"Research sent me a file for you. Mitchell wants you on another mission."

Natasha was confused, "Another mission? I don't understand. What about--"

"The reports on the Cullinan case have been sent through to Tactics. All the problems were ironed out, if that's what you're wondering about."

"But how--"

"Here's the file on Corview. Mitchell asked for you on the job, after all, you are one of the best Blackwell has. Everything you need to know is in the file. It's a big one."

Cara carefully examined Natasha's expressions. She looked tired, haunted almost.

"Are you up for this Tash?" she asked.

She nodded.

"Good, that will be all. You can go home and have a look at it, you won't be needed here anymore today. We'll get everyone together tomorrow and take it from there."

She turned her attention back to some paperwork on her desk. Natasha hesitated before she got up.

"Thank you, Cara," she whispered and left the office.

In the corridor she let out a long shuddered breath and looked down at the thick file she was holding. She gripped it so tightly her knuckles were turning white.

She knew Cara had done something to the reports, and it made her want to cry. They were all petrified of the Hounds and she knew that Cara had been through them once or twice as well. She'd risked a lot for her by keeping the reports under the table and not notifying Upstairs.

On her way home reality started to sink in and relief gushed over her in warm waves. Mitchell asked for her on another job. She had a chance to pull herself together again, something to really focus her attention on and maybe escape the nightmare that she felt was trying to catch up with her from somewhere.

When she got home she put the file down on her desk and changed into something more comfortable. With a cup of tea she sat down and started going through it.

By the looks of it, Corview wasn't just the law firm she'd heard about. They were dealing in some sort of underground business as well and Natasha understood why that made them a target. If they were cunning enough in the underground world they would be able to unmask Blackwell.

She didn't know how Research came by the information she ended up with, but she knew that they didn't work through standard channels, or legal ones. She laid out the wads of information on her desk and started working through them one by one. It was a big job. Ethan Houle. The name sounded familiar. She looked at the photos. He was attractive – broad and upright and oozing confidence. She poured over the information, scribbling notes and getting lost in her work like she hadn't done in ages, and when she looked at the clock and it was passed midnight she stretched and smiled. It felt good to be back. 

The pub was full and she squinted to see through the smoke, but it didn't take her long to spot him. He was sitting at the bar with his back to her, but she knew it was him. His shoulders were broader than in the photograph but when he turned she caught a glimpse of his face and she was sure.

She pulled back her shoulders, flipped her hair and walked to the bar, standing close to him. She sighed dramatically and ordered a double vodka from the bartender who'd noticed her and jumped to serve her. She hesitated, and then added a lemonade to her order.

"Wow," he said, looking at the drink the bartender pushed towards her, "rough day?"

It was as easy as that to get his attention.

She rolled her eyes, "you have no idea."

"What do you do?"

"I'm in public relations," she said, digging in her purse.

"Here, let me get that for you," he smiled and pulled a note from him pocket. She smiled back at him and took a sip.

"Public Relations huh?  I didn't know that could drive you to vodka. What about it's gotten you so stressed out?"

"The public."

They spent the evening talking. He bought her another drink and the conversation flowed freely. It'd been years since she'd had to make so little effort to get along with a guy, she thought. As they talked she looked him over. He was much more attractive than in the photos she had of him. He was animated when he talked about things. His dark liquid eyes were captivating and he had a crooked smile that was almost as permanent as his self-assurance. He cracked jokes that were actually funny. She felt herself laughing and enjoying herself.

Half way through the night she noticed Frank sitting at one of the corner booths with someone else she vaguely recognized from the office. Usually she was relieved at his presence, she felt safer when he was around, but tonight she suddenly felt irritated. She was enjoying herself and she'd just started to forget about work. His presence would remind her all the time that she was on an official case. She sighed. Just as she was starting to have a bit of fun.

After that evening it didn't take long before Ethan phoned her and asked her out on a date with him. She declined his invitation with an excuse that she had to work but they spoke on the phone for almost an hour. Only after she hung up did she realize how long it'd been.

The next invitation to go out for coffee she didn't decline. He appeared on her doorstep but he wasn't there with a car as she expected. They walked to the cafe on the corner that always smelled of freshly baked rolls and he ordered two take away cups of cheap coffee. Then he walked her to the park and they followed the foot path that twisted its way through.

They talked about everything and nothing. She asked him what he did, pretending like she didn't know a thing about him, and he gave her answers that were cleverly evasive.  He was in corporate law. He dealt with paper trails. He liked it when everything made sense; he was black on white.

Natasha looked around to see if she could spot Frank, but to her relief he didn't seem to be around. She knew that he knew where she was, but curiously she found that tonight she wanted to be completely alone with Ethan. With every step that she took, he seemed like less of a job and more of a man, and by the end of the night she was fighting emotions she didn’t know she could ever feel. When they stopped under the big poplars at the lake and looked at the moonlight reflecting on the water they fell quiet. This is so cliché, she was thinking, when he pulled her close to him, held her delicate face in his big muscular hands, and kissed her. When he took her back to her apartment he bade her farewell with a kiss on the cheek, and as she locked up she knew she was in trouble.

At work things were uneventful. Everything carried on like nothing had ever been wrong and Natasha was relieved that she could let herself forget how rotten and lost she'd felt just a few days before. Since she'd met Ethan everything had changed. Things felt like they made sense again. It always made her feel great when she was on a case, working, doing what she was good at. At the back of her mind she knew she had to be careful. There was something about him that made her weak at the knees. She wanted to see him, not because she was dedicated to her work, as before, but because she actually wanted to spend time with him. She kept on telling herself that it was just a job, he was just a target and she was just doing what she was trained to do. She'd almost convinced herself, but when her phone beeped with a message from him her insides did a little flip and everything she'd been trying to tell herself was forgotten.

He met her for lunch an hour later, at a bistro on the outskirts of town. They talked and laughed and forgot the time, and two hours later over lemon meringue, with that crooked smile of his, he told her he was serious about her.

They started spending more time together. She kept Blackwell up to date on her whereabouts, but there were times that she failed to tell them she was seeing him. She understood that it was for her own safety and for the good of the company that she had back up, and Frank was brilliant at his job, and at helping her with hers. But she didn't want him as a chaperon to her life.

One night after they came home from a get together with some of Ethan's friends they were lying on the bed, silently in each other's arms. She loved his presence. She didn't have anything to say to him, and it didn't matter because he didn't want her to say things all the time. They could be quiet together and everything still made sense.

He kissed her on her forehead. She tipped her head up and kissed him full on the mouth. Suddenly the atmosphere became electric. Their kisses became more passionate and their bodies drove closer to each other until Natasha wasn't sure where hers ended and his began. He slid his hands down her back and started fumbling with the hem of her shirt. Then he rolled her over and started pulling her shirt up, but she stopped him. Something suddenly felt wrong and she couldn't put her finger on it. She tried to ignore it, but as his hands found more of her body, the more she started panicking. She broke free from his urgent kisses and forced her shirt back down.

"What's wrong?" he leaned back, looking confused.