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Authors: Angel Payne

Tags: #romance, #military, #erotic romance, #bdsm, #alpha male

BOOK: Surrendering To Her Sergeant
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Acting on raw instinct, he jammed
Bella behind him. It was the only move he could make before three
of the ninjas converged on the chaise. The largest of them stepped
forward, wielding a pistol instead of a rifle. He was likely the
leader, needing mobility for other purposes. As if that mattered.
At the moment, the SIG in the guy’s hand was just as dangerous to
Ethan.

The bastard verified that himself a
second later. “Not another move, my friend, or I’ll blow your balls
off.”

 

 

Chapter Eight

Let the fun
begin.

It was Tait Bommer’s go-to phrase at
the start of any crazy mission or insane infil, but right now, he
let the words bounce around in his head only. Because right now, he
didn’t know what the fuck was happening.

One second, Kell and Zeke
had joined him in the dancing shrimp tails act and they were
taunting Franzen with an obscene rendition of
All That Jazz
. The next, they were
backed into the kitchen at the wrong end of mismatched rifles and a
couple of assholes taking the basic black Bob Fosse theme to whole
new levels. Two more gunmen cornered Rhett, Rebel, and Garrett
against the double-wide fridge. Bella Lanza’s scream had ripped
across the terrace. Her stylist, the woman with whom they’d found
Archer in hardcore lip-lock training this morning, was nowhere to
be seen.

The other two women in the room, Rayna
and Sage, were silent as they got forced into a corner of the
living room. The two of them, having spent a year on the run from
slavers in Africa and Asia, knew the value of staying calm in a
situation like this.

Tait clenched his jaw.
He
really
didn’t
feel like staying calm.

“What the hell is this?”
Franzen bellowed. Guess he agreed with the
fuck calm
approach, too.

“Shut up.” Fosse ninja number one
aimed his weapon at the center of Franz’s sizable chest. He didn’t
shift his focus, even as the trio of attackers from the terrace
came in with Ethan and Bella under guard, though he jerked his head
at the stockiest of them. “Guess I was right to insist on a full
team, after all.”

The guy puffed his barrel chest. “I
have no fucking idea what happened. I triple checked this. They had
a short day on the set. They needed the lot for some special event
the suits are throwing. Lanza was going for a wax. She has a
standing appointment every two weeks.”

Though Bella had traded
sloshed-up for terrified, she tossed up a glower. “That’s
not
knowledge for public
consumption, you ape.”

“Says the one who skipped her wax
appointment.” He snickered.

“Skipped? Really? I’m Italian, moron.
I fit it in on my lunch.”

“Enough.” Another ninja pushed
forward. Though he didn’t wield a rifle, the heat in his hand was
sweet. A SIG, clearly custom, likely untraceable. Damn, it was
beautiful.

Cut the gun boner and open
your observation deck, Bommer. What kind of details will you be
able to relate about this asshole—if you get out of this
alive?

As the guy moved into the living room,
he hooked a hand around Bella’s elbow and dragged her with him. He
moved with confident purpose, which meant two things. One, he knew
the villa’s layout. Two, he’d done shit like this before. A lot.
There was a seasoned serration to his voice that Franzen had too,
an edge that came with experience. But for some of his men, the
assurance was a thin front. They’d been expecting to find Bella
alone here. Her impromptu party had turned into their not-so-little
mission hitch, whatever the hell their mission was. Unless Bella
was hiding half the Louvre somewhere in this place, the force was
excessive for a home invasion robbery.

Again sharing his mental page, Franzen
mumbled, “What the fuck is going on?”

“What part of ‘shut up’ did
you
not
understand?” barked their guard.

“Yo, Hulk?” SIG man called it from the
living room without diverting his attention from Bella, whom he
dumped on an ottoman without ceremony. “I believe the gentleman has
a good grasp of the situation, as well as our control of
it.”

Ninja minion huffed. “Damn it, Mag. We
have orders to restrain any trouble—”

“That’s not trouble, buddy. That’s
just a question.” The guy flicked an almost respectful glance at
Franz. “A question to which he won’t get the answer, but just a
question all the same.”

“Magneto, I don’t apprec—”

“Shut. Your. Hole. And kindly bring
your friends over here.” He nodded at minion number two.
“Rorschach, grab his six.”

Tait barely held back his eye roll.
The asswipes might be packing pro-level firearms and using all the
right terminology, but superhero mission names? Mixed between the
DC and Marvel universes? Arrogant idiots.

They were all guided into the living
room and directed to park their asses on the room’s two long
couches, upholstered in a trendy shade of light blue that was
likely named after a mythical bird or tropical resort. Sage and
Rayna were brought over, as well. Knowing Garrett and Zeke would
have their attention dented by the women’s presence, Tait focused
harder on picking out the weakest links in this weird gumball gang.
His vantage point gave him the chance to scope out the remaining
pair who kept watch on Runway, while his teammate returned the
favor on the two guys assigned to him. He ran a visual on the
remaining soldiers, too. Their tail man had stayed on the terrace,
sticking to a shadow behind some palms to watch over the beach
access to the villa. But that couldn’t be all of them. He suspected
Magneto had already waved in two or three more men to search the
other areas of Bella’s home.

Magneto. Seriously? And
I’m Professor X, asshole.

“Okay, l-look.” Though Bella’s words
wobbled, she crossed her legs and folded her hands to look like she
was simply being grilled by a nosy talk show host. His impression
got intensified by the woman’s charm-drenched smile. “You boys seem
nice so I’ll be straight-up. I don’t keep a lot of valuables at the
house, but there’s a safe in the library and another in the
bedroom. They’re both controlled by double passwords, but I can go
with you and—”

“Dear fuck,” growled Hulk.
“Can I work on shutting
her
up now, too?”

Bella glared like he’d farted. “I beg
your pardon?”

“My pardon isn’t what you need,
diamond diva. It’s my mercy.”

“Spare me,
pompinara
. At least I
earned every one of my diamonds, instead of sneaking into someone’s
house like a rat cocksucker and stealing them!”

Hulk snorted. “Honestly? You sticking
with that, babe?”

Bella tossed her head, dramatically
swinging her thick black hair. “What the hell is your
problem?”

“You’re fiddle fucking
around, Miss La-La Lanza.
That’s
my problem.” He advanced on Bella by a step. “Stop
pretending you’re mortified that we’re here and tell us where he
stashed the codes.”

That seemed to seriously stun her. “He
who? What codes?”

“Enough.” The roar came from leader
man. Hell. At least the guy had the Magneto boom down pretty well.
“H, you’re trying my patience.”

The guard huffed. “And she
isn’t?”

“I said
enough
.”

Tait swapped a knowing
glance with Ethan. In it, they acknowledged a couple of things.
Number one: big bad call sign or not, Magneto had trouble
controlling his team. Even without Hulk giving him this grief, the
guys who’d gone out to recon the house hadn’t radioed in or
returned yet. Two, was
anyone
in this band of bastards in agreement on what the
hell they were doing here? He didn’t care about the answer to that.
Runway’s piercing blue gaze, double blinking in return to the
identical move from Tait, said he didn’t either. They were both
ready to surge when Hulk decided to get pissy again. The wait
likely wouldn’t be long.

Unnervingly, their bulky guard fell
into a brooding silence. He decided to actually watch them for
once, too. Tait fought his impatience by gritting his teeth and
watching Magneto kneel next to Bella. As the man lowered his body,
he did the same with his gun. With the hand that had been fitted to
the SIG’s grip, he now held the star’s hand with the gentleness of
a lover. Tait knew better, and tensed because of it. Fuck. No way
to flip the bitch of fate on these guys as long as Mag Man had his
paws directly on Bella.

“Miss Lanza.” The man’s tone was a
respectful request—on the surface. The underline of force was
undeniable, even to Bella. Tension shoved its way along her
shoulders. He continued, “I apologize for my associate. He can be
uncouth. But he’s also right. We’re not here to take your jewelry
or your art.” He lifted his hold from her hand to her chin. “You
know what we’re here for, don’t you?”

She tried to tug away. The man held
her firm. Even from where he sat, Tait watched her pupils dilate in
deeper fear. “No,” she finally rasped. “P-please. I have no idea
what you’re talking about.”

Magneto sighed. Lowered his hand. And
picked up his pistol again. He stroked the barrel along the outside
of her thigh. “Let’s approach this a different way.”

Bella whimpered. “What the hell do you
want from me? I really don’t know what—”

“Ssshhh. I just want to talk. To ask
you a few questions. Answer me honestly and I won’t have to use
this on your kneecap, all right?”

Bella managed a jerky nod . A couple
of years ago, Tait would’ve added a chuckle right along to it. The
guy he’d been back then was even more a skeptic than he was now,
hardly believing in the validity of shit like intuition, let alone
someone’s ability to discern a true lie. After all, he’d lied to
his own father since the age of five and gotten away with it. But
twenty-one years after that first fib, he’d met Ethan Archer and
the man’s mental polygraph machine. For all he knew, Mag Man was
one of those hyper-intuitive freaks, too.

“Wh-what do you want to know?” Bella
stammered into the man’s long silence.

Magneto leaned back a little, again
conveying the appearance that he was just here for a friendly chat.
“You did some entertaining here last night as well, didn’t
you?”

Tait traded another glimpse with
Ethan. This time, puzzlement consumed the guy’s face. He saw the
same thinking in Franz and the rest of the guys. Hadn’t Bella
proclaimed to them all this morning that she didn’t invite people
over to the villa enough?

Bella squirmed, now that her
exaggeration had been caught. “I wouldn’t call it entertaining,”
she justified. “I…had a friend over. For a fast drink.”

“Which turned into a little slumber
party.”

The woman flashed apprehensive eyes at
Runway. Part of her invitation to all of them tonight had been
rooted in her desire to rekindle old flames with him. There was no
secret about that, though the same didn’t seem to apply toward her
drinking buddy from last night. With an awkward smile, she
explained, “Well, we had more than one drink. And we got to talking
late. And I do have three extra bedrooms here.”

“But Mr. Lemare didn’t stay in any of
those rooms, did he?”

Her anxiety hitched into
blatant alarm. She compensated for it by going for a haughty sniff.
“Mr. Lemare and I are required to be close. It’s essential that
we’re on the same page, creatively and strategically, for
Dress Blues
to work as
well as it does. Besides that, we share the same heritage. He is my
friend as well as my producer.”

“And your lover.”

“That’s none of your damn
business.”

The guy shrugged. “Not usually. And
quite frankly, sweetheart, I don’t care if he fucked you sideways
doggie style while swinging from the chandelier. I just need to
know about what the guy gave you for safekeeping between tossing
out the condom and sharing your morning shower.”

Buh-bye, terrified starlet. Hello,
enraged diva. It would’ve surprised no one if Bella grew full claws
before spitting, “You’re repugnant. I refuse to dignify a word of
that with—”

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