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Authors: Francis Drake

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BOOK: Saving Brigit
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The Claw gestured to one of the chairs. “Sit, please. I have asked my man to bring us tea.” He peered at Derek, his eyes crinkled in polite interest. “You are an American. You drink tea, or would you prefer coffee?”

Derek nodded, just as politely. “Tea is fine. Thank you.”

For several minutes, they chatted, small talk designed to give each the chance to size up the other. Almost silently, a man came through a door back near the bookcase.
No
,
the door is part of the bookcase.

The top and side frames matched up with the shelving. No one would ever suspect the door existed without seeing how it fit into the entire structure. Before it closed, Derek glimpsed a narrow passageway lined with rock walls.

The man served the tea and then stepped back for when he was needed again. They sipped their tea. Two arms pimps about to make a deal while ensconced in a façade of civilization.

“So, I understand you have enjoyed the beauty of my country for some weeks.” The Claw’s friendly gaze had turned shrewd.

“Waiting for you to see me, yes.”

“And now, here you are. What would you have of me?”

“I think you know.”

“The missiles.”

“Yes.”
And the name of the bastard who stole them and bartered their sale.
But that information would have to wait until after the raid, when they had the Claw in custody.

The number of weapons in and out of this remote fortress had changed the fate of nations and no doubt started small wars. Once it was closed down, tension in the world would ease, too. At least for a short time, until someone took the Claw’s place in another mountain retreat or desert hideaway or jungle patch.

“What will you do with them should I choose to sell the missiles to you?”

Derek smiled sincerely for the first time since entering the room. “That’s none of your business.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not.” The Claw slowly stirred the liquid in the porcelain cup, as though time had no meaning. “What is your offer for the missiles?”

“Ten million. One mil for each missile.”

“But there are not ten missiles for sale.”

What the fuck?
Derek leaned forward. “My information was that you received ten guaranteed US missiles, lifted from—”

He stopped at the sudden look of interest from the Claw. So, he didn’t know where the missiles came from.

“Please continue, Mr. Lowry,” he said in a low, rich voice. Something about the tone struck Derek as seductive. Mesmerizing in the way a woman’s sultry tone could be.

He warily pushed back in the chair. “Do you have ten missiles for sale or not? Because I’ve been sitting here on my ass for three weeks thinking you did.”

“Alas, I have just this week told my Iranian cousins that I may allow them to buy all or some part of the items you seek.” He placed his cup and saucer on the tea tray and started to stand. Derek had to take command of this before he was escorted out the door and forced to walk away with nothing for his weeks of work.

“Wait.” The firmness of his voice made the other man stare. He wondered how often the Claw was ordered to do anything.

“Yes?” The Claw’s tone was frosty.

“I need those missiles. I had buyers lined up.”

“What is that to me?”

Derek made a quick decision. How high would he have to go for the Claw to cave in and accept a deal? “It could be a mil and a half for each missile—all
ten
. That’s fifteen million dollars. I know that’s more than anyone else will offer. Want to know why?”

The Claw sank back into his seat. “If you wish to tell me.” But there was no mistaking the look of greed that lit his eyes.

“I have the missile launchers, see? You can sell the missiles, but they’ll be virtually useless. Your ‘Iranian cousins’ might feel forced to give you what I’m offering. But they won’t be happy when they find out they’ve bought ineffective weapons.” He studied the man facing him, and an idea blossomed. “Maybe they don’t know they aren’t getting the launchers along with the missiles?”

The man stared at Derek and worried the string of prayer beads many Muslim men carried around all the time. His elbow propped on the chair arm, he rested his chin in his other hand. His pinky finger crept up and stroked his brow.

“What is this about launchers? I was told the weapons were in working order as I purchased them.”

“Let’s say I know a few things your thief didn’t. Shoulder launchers are required, but they’re stored separately for security reasons. Good thing, huh? Otherwise, some thief who isn’t inept might steal the launchers and the missiles.”

The Claw regarded Derek silently for a moment and then asked, “Are you and your men enjoying your house in the village?”

Derek breathed a little easier. The man was trying to intimidate him by showing his knowledge of where Derek lived and who he hung with, but Derek had always anticipated being watched.

“We’re comfortable enough.”

“I’m told you haven’t enjoyed the hospitality of my women yet. Is there some other form of entertainment I can provide for you?”

“Your girls are a little too tame for me. Unlike many of my countrymen, I prefer someone closer to my age. And I like women from my country. If I push an American woman, she pushes back.”

“Please accept my gift of a woman for the days you remain as my guest. I believe my new arrival will meet your requirements.”

“I’m ready to close this deal. How much longer must I remain as ‘your guest’?”

The Claw stood. Derek followed suit.

“Two days, maybe three. I will think on your offer, and I will be in touch.”

I have no doubt of that.

“In the meantime, drink and eat and enjoy yourself. Do not forget the needs of the body, my friend.
All
of the body’s needs. You have but to mention your name to the keeper of the brothel, and he will know which woman to bring you.” The Claw turned away, in effect dismissing Derek.

“One more thing.” Derek stood his ground. “I have to see the missiles before the deal is made.”

Without turning, the Claw clipped out, “Tomorrow. Noon.” He strode to his desk without a backward glance.

Tomorrow, you bastard.
When Derek left, he headed straight to the bar and a whiskey to wash away the taste of tea.

Then his mind shifted to the “gift” the Claw had given him. Dare he hope the gift was Thia? It had to be.

His blood stirred and desire leapt through him like a stag in rut. Derek shot back the rest of the drink and stalked off to the brothel to slake a different kind of thirst.

* * * *

Derek fought hard to conceal his nervousness while he waited for Thia to arrive in the pleasure room. Just as the Claw had said, he told the keeper of the brothel who he was, and he’d been led here.

The door opened, and a man led Thia in. She wore a gown of translucent material that revealed all of her to every man who happened upon her. Derek wanted to shoot them all in order to protect her from their prying eyes. Her hands were tied behind her back, and a leather noose encircled her neck. Her gaze found him. Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to speak.

“This woman will do,” Derek said in a rush to cut her off and distract the guard. Did she understand his warning?

She glanced down, and when she looked up again, her expression was one of distaste, just as it should be if she entered a room preparing to have sex with a stranger.

Not long ago, the two of them
were
strangers. Since that first night, they’d explored a world of sensual delights. He’d never enjoyed a woman more. And not just their time in bed either. If anything happened to her, he’d personally take care of every bastard in this place.

“For you,” the man said, handing Derek the end of the leash.

He nodded, then made a great show of walking around her to inspect what he had in his possession. “I was told she had some fire in her.”

“If her days in the guard quarters didn’t douse it,” a guard who took up his post in the corner said with a rough laugh.

I wish I could kill
you
right now.
“Let’s hope that’s not the case,” Derek said. “I have been assured by your boss that she’ll please me with her spunk.” He said all that for Thia’s sake, to help her know what was expected.

“You’re American!” Her face reflected revulsion.

“What gave you the first clue?”

“Look, you’ve got to help us. My niece and I are here against our will. You have to—”

He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly. “Lady, I’m not helping you anywhere except onto my dick.”

“You pig!”

He pointed to her and turned to the guard, laughing. The asshole joined in the hilarity.
If you only knew
.

Derek faced Thia once more. He ran his hand down his cock and back up. He already had a hard-on stiff enough to poke through a slab of wood. Her body, bound and confined and revealed through the all but transparent material of her gown, made him impossibly harder.

“What are you looking at?” She practically spit the words at him.

For the first time, he feared she really meant it, that she blamed him for what had happened to her.

Derek continued playing with himself as he trailed to the table and drank from his half-emptied goblet. He’d always pushed against the stimulation the drink instigated. Tonight he let go.

“If you were any kind of human being, you’d find a way to help me,” Thia pled.

“If you were any kind of courtesan, you’d be sucking me.”

Through a glare, she walked over, sank to her knees, and took him deeply in her mouth.

Christ! She could suck like no one else. He almost came in her mouth after a few seconds of her lips and tongue and hot, wet mouth. But he needed to tell her things, and for that, he needed to get his mouth near her ear.

He pulled her to her feet and dragged her to the table, seemingly by her hair in order to make it look good to their watchers. The woman scuttled over and helped Thia out of her clothing.

“What now, pig?”

“You have a smart mouth, but you use it well—when I fill it with something.” He set her on the table and kissed her deeply. At the same time, he positioned his cock and pressed into her. Her tiny gasps told him all he needed to know about how she felt. Those scum had used her for days, and she was hurting. His fears were true.

When he was seated and tried moving, her sigh almost undid him. He kept his thrusts short and as gentle as possible, though the strain of not driving hard and fast and coming inside her about made him crazy.

He broke the kiss. Nibbling her ear, he managed to whisper, “Are you all right? I heard…I heard bad things.”

She nuzzled his head, hiding her lips in his hair. “I’m fine.”

“Oh, baby, I’ve been so worried.”

“I’m okay.” Louder she said, “Is this the best you can do? My first fuck with a kid of sixteen showed more promise.”

“Shut up. I’m pacing myself to go all night.”

She snorted. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

To play his part, Derek drove harder. Thia leaned her head on his shoulder.

“We only have a few days at most to get you out. Have you seen Brigit?”

She shook her head so that he could feel it.

“Rashid thought he had a way in to see her.”

“Rashid is here, too?”

Derek hid the stab of jealousy at the hopeful note in her voice. He probed deeper, more fiercely in a statement of possession.

“I have permission to see you as often as I like. Tomorrow I’ll find a way to bring something to help get you out.” He sucked her neck. Her breathing sharpened, and she lifted her head. Her eyes had taken on the glazed look he recognized as her closeness to orgasm. A tiny spasm gripped his cock. When she came, so would he.

“Is there anything you can tell me?”

“There are only fifteen guards,” she whispered. “At the same time each day we walk the courtyard and go to bathe. It’s the only time except for eating when most of us are together. One or more of the guards is always watching.” She drew his head down for a kiss.

He reveled in the feel of her tongue pushing into his mouth. Her taste was sweet and spicy, her scent pungent. His hips rocked harder in an urgent need as old as time.

“After breakfast,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “But…but oh, God.” She rubbed against him. He reached between them and caressed her clit.

“I don’t know where it is in all these walls and…”

“It’s okay,” he whispered and gave up all conversation. Driving into her, controlling her body and mind, Derek reached the point of no return. He shot into her at the same time she came. She went on and on, and he felt he did, too.

When they were able to breathe and think again, Thia said, “A guy like you, that’s probably it, huh?”

He almost burst into laughter. She was staying in character no matter what. His heart surged with pride and deeper longing. He inhaled, taking her scent into his lungs, into his very being.

“We have all night, slut. Maybe you’d better get on your knees and get me ready for the next go-round.”

A female servant rushed over with a cloth and pillow. Rolling her eyes, Thia dropped onto the pillow and took him into her mouth. He’d just come minutes ago, but he felt himself stir in the recesses of her mouth. This is the way it had always been with them. If they got out of this hellhole alive, this is the way it would keep on.

By God, he’d get them out alive, for she was too precious to lose.

Chapter 12

“I still have reservations about this plan.” Colonel Harrington had risked another trip to Derek’s location that night to finalize their thoughts regarding the takeover of the Claw’s fortress.

Derek recognized Harrington’s doubts and that he headed the operation. Gaining his full confidence was vital for the total success, that being getting the women out, as well as capturing the Claw and as many of his lieutenants as possible before the air strike.

“I understand, sir, but I believe the change in plans is necessary as well as possible. I’ve made contact with my agent.” An image of Thia spread out on the table and opening herself to him entered his mind. He forced it to the back. No military strike benefited from emotion.

BOOK: Saving Brigit
13.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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