A View to a Thrill (Masters and Mercenaries Book 7) (45 page)

He slipped out of her body and let himself go limp. Every ounce of energy had been drained and a sweet pulse was pounding through his system. His head found her breast and he let himself lie there.

And then remembered how being caged bothered her. He started to push himself off, but her arms came around him, holding him tight.

“Don’t go. I like it. I like being close to you,” she whispered as her arms wound around his body.

Don’t go. He wouldn’t ever go, but he didn’t have the choice. He sighed and let himself relax. “I’m not done with you.”

She chuckled a bit. “I wouldn’t dream that you were, Master.”

He wouldn’t be done until the second she walked out, and even then he feared he would never stop loving her.

Chapter Twenty-One

Chelsea wished Simon would look at her. Since they’d sat down for breakfast, he’d completely ignored her. He was busy staring at a paper she wasn’t entirely sure he could read. Did he speak Italian? Or was he just avoiding her?

“Could I have the butter?” Surely he would have to look up to pass her the butter.

Nope. He was far more graceful than that. His eyes never left the paper in front of him as he passed her the small dish. “There you go.”

She took it and set it down because she’d lost her damn appetite. He was utterly maddening. He’d made love to her the night before over and over again like he couldn’t breathe if he wasn’t on top of her. He’d taken her pussy and her mouth and god, he’d taken her ass. She’d never felt closer to another human being than she’d been to Simon in that moment. She couldn’t have imagined how amazing that had felt.

Though she was a little sore this morning and the man who’d made her that way had gotten up and been all dressed and perfectly pressed and right back to his British reserve. Her passionate lover had been replaced with a man who seemingly had no interest in her at all.

Maybe honesty would shake him up. “Could you pass me a bag of frozen peas?”

His eyes finally met hers. “What? What on earth do you want with frozen peas at this time of the morning?”

Apparently the Brits weren’t big on anal sex aftercare. “My anus is swollen because someone shoved an extra-large rod up my butt.”

His lips started to curl and then a calculating look came over his face. “You’re sore. You should stay here today. I’ll get you an ice pack. If you’re sore, you can’t run the way you should.”

She couldn’t help the growl that came out of her throat. “I can’t run the way I should period. The state of my backside is meaningless. We’re not putting the op off. I was just trying to get you to talk to me about last night.”

And he was right back on the paper. He flipped it over. “What about last night? It’s inevitable you’re going to be a bit sore your first time. I’m sorry about that.”

He was so frustrating. “I’m not sorry. I get the sore part. You’re a big guy. That’s not what I’m really talking about. I’m trying in my not so subtle way to have a relationship talk. I want to know if last night was real.” She had no other way to ask except the obvious. She didn’t want to, but she was supposed to be working on honesty. “Do you love me, Simon? I told you I love you.”

She’d gotten utter silence back from him. His body had made promises though. His body had worshipped hers. That had to mean something.

“You say you love me, but you’re still going to work for Ten.” He took a sip of his coffee. Apparently tea was for afternoons. His brows had climbed in a way that made the question really more of an accusation.

“I told you why I want to do that. I don’t have a place here. Ian doesn’t need me.” She had to find a way to make him understand.

He sighed as though dismissing the entire conversation. “You’ll do what you need to do. I’ll do what I need to do.”

“What does that mean?” She really wanted to halt the conversation all together. It would be so much easier to retreat, to act like the night before had meant nothing to her. She could pull her armor around her and go right back into her safe little shell, but she was so sick of that shell. It was lonely in there and being a coward proved she hadn’t changed. “Simon, I really don’t understand what’s going on. Could you please tell me? I’m not asking to be a bitch. I’m asking because I’m really confused. You said you wanted me.”

“I did. I do. We’re quite compatible in bed.”

She let a moment go by, waiting for him to say something more. He sipped his coffee and ate his toast.

She needed to know once and for all. “What happens when I get this package and we neutralize the threat?”

“You go your way and I’ll go mine.” He sat back and sighed a little as though the whole conversation was really boring him. “Our contract is over the minute the op ends.”

She nodded and stood. It was time to walk away. He’d wanted her and he’d had her, and apparently that was enough for him. She would go and get cleaned up and dressed and she wouldn’t sleep with him again. It hurt too much when she loved him and apparently he didn’t even like her anymore. She’d done her best and it hadn’t been good enough. All that was between them now was that stupid contract.

She stopped at the doorway, the words coming out of her mouth before she could think to call them back. “What did I do wrong?”

“Excuse me?”

In for a penny… “I’d like to know what I did wrong. I’m not good with relationships so I don’t really get why you don’t like me anymore. Could you just tell me what all this was about? I promise I won’t yell or throw a fit no matter what you say. I just…I would rather know.”

His jaw tightened. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Why did you pursue me if you didn’t really want me then? If I didn’t do something wrong. Was it a game for you?”

“I don’t play bloody games and I don’t like the one you’re playing right now. What else do you want from me, Chelsea? I’ve given you everything. I’ve allowed myself to look like a fool over you.”

“So you are mad at me?” She felt like she had whiplash and she felt like she was twelve again and trying to figure out why a man who should love her suddenly didn’t.

Let it go. Let that go and see Simon for who he is. Nothing in your life is going to work if you can’t let go of what that monster did to you. He wins every time you push someone away.

“I’m mad at myself, Chelsea.” He stood up and started to pace, his body long and elegant in his suit. “I should have known better. I should have understood that it couldn’t work. I’m not going to fight you. You’ve made it plain what you want.”

“So you’re mad I want to work for Ten. Why? Did you think I would be happy staying at home all the time?”

“I gave you a perfectly good alternative. You could become a missing persons expert.”

“And I’ll look into it, but Simon, you don’t get to choose my career.” Had he thought once he got her in bed that she would be so enthralled with him she would give herself up? “You really did just see it as a challenge, didn’t you? You wanted to see if you could change me. If you could make me into something I’m not.”

“That’s not true,” he shot back.

“From where I’m sitting it is. Here’s the funny thing. You really did change me. You really did show me I could be something more. I wish you could have loved me. I really do because I love you, Simon. I realized something last night. I’ve spent most of my life wanting to go back and make all the bad stuff go away, but I would have been different. If I hadn’t gone through that pain, I would have had a different life, one that didn’t lead Charlotte to Ian, one that wouldn’t have led me to you. So I think I’ll take the pain because I wouldn’t change a minute of it. Not even this one. I really do love you.”

His face went a vibrant red and his hands were suddenly fists clutched at his sides. “Prove it. Bloody well choose me. Stay with me. You say you love me, but you’re walking out…”

There was a knock at the door and Simon turned. She watched as he seemed to shake off the volcanic rage that had threatened to explode. He was always in control. Oh, she’d seen his dark side, but never this rage, this passion that had almost consumed him.

Walking out? What was that supposed to mean?

The door opened and Ian walked in, his face flushed. He moved with none of his natural grace. “I’m taking Charlotte to the hospital.”

She completely forgot about their fight, her heart suddenly in her throat. “What? Why? Where is she?”

“I’ve called in and they’re waiting for us. She’s with Jesse waiting for the water taxi. She’s spotting. Heavily,” Ian explained.

Oh, god, she couldn’t lose the baby. “I should go with her.”

Ian shook his head. “Please, let me take care of her.”

Because if she was there, Charlotte might turn to her sister when she should look to her husband. Chelsea nodded, tears in her eyes. This was yet another thing she had to let go of. She had to honor her sister’s husband. “Of course. Please let me know if she’s okay. We’ll get the package so as soon as she’s ready, we can go home.”

Simon shook his head. “We can’t. We’re down a man. We’re not doing this today.”

“It’s your op,” Ian said, his face pale. “You have to do what you have to do, but I need Charlotte well. I’m worried the stress of having Chelsea targeted is getting to her. I’m sorry, man.”

Simon held out a hand. “There’s no need. Call us if you need anything. We’ll come down with you.”

Ian’s head shook. “No. Just keep her safe here.”

What he didn’t say, Chelsea surmised, was that he didn’t want to make a vulnerable Charlotte a target because she was too close to Chelsea. Ian turned and walked out, and Chelsea couldn’t stand the slump to his shoulders that told her he wasn’t sure tragedy hadn’t already happened. For all he’d said he wasn’t sure he wanted kids, Chelsea knew he would ache forever if Charlotte lost this baby.

Whatever was going on between her and Simon had to be put aside. “I’m going to get that package.”

Simon stared at the door Ian had just left through. “I can stop you. I can keep you here.”

“Don’t. I owe her. She’s my sister and she’s in trouble because of me.” She had to make him understand. “We can do this. You and me and Jesse. All we have to do is walk into the post office and pick up a package. It will be fine.”

“We wait.”

“And if Charlotte loses the baby? Or if they save the baby? We just expect her to wait here until you’re sure no one can touch us? I get that somehow I’ve disappointed you. I didn’t turn into the person you wanted me to be, but this is who I am, Simon. This is who you made me. I can’t run anymore. You took that away from me. I have to stand and fight for the people I love. I already let my friend down. I can’t let her down, too. Yes, you can stop me, but you’ll take something precious away from me.”

She’d just found her courage, her willingness to sacrifice. She couldn’t be put in a cage again, slotted into a little box where she was meaningless.

Simon stood there for a moment and when he turned around, he was calm and placid again. “All right then. Get cleaned up. Dress in nondescript clothing. Nothing that would bring attention to yourself. Hat and sunglasses. We’ll walk about for a bit to make sure no one is following us before we go to the post office. We’ll leave when Jesse gets back.”

She turned away, knowing she’d won the battle, but terribly afraid that she’d just lost the war.

* * * *

Simon felt the sun on his skin and wished they were exactly what their cover was—two tourists on vacation, taking in the sites of Venice. Two lovers on holiday.

Not two agents who could barely speak to each other about to embark on something dangerous.

Her hand was in his, but she wasn’t clutching it the way she had before. Since that moment she’d learned her sister was in trouble, she’d been all business. Once he’d told her the op was a go, she’d pulled away from him.

What game was she playing? And why did he find himself hoping he could get her to stop playing it?

“Piazza San Marco,” she said with the slightest hint of a grin. “Where the only thing that outnumbers the tourists are the pigeons.”

St. Mark’s Basilica was to his left, the grand church rising up from the piazza. There was already a long line waiting for tours. Straight ahead was the lagoon, the emerald waters just beyond the two massive granite columns that held symbols of the two patron saints of Venice, St. Theodore and St. Mark. He could see the gentle sway of gondolas in the lagoon.

And lots of pigeons to his right.

One landed right on his bloody shoulder. He shuddered and nearly jumped a foot to get the blighter off him.

“You’re afraid of birds,” Chelsea said, a light coming over her face for the first time. “Oh, my god, the great secret agent is scared of a little bird.”

He wasn’t afraid exactly. He simply hated them because they were winged rats with dead black eyes. And that had been an awfully big bird. “I don’t like anything that can land on me.”

“You were a pilot. Shouldn’t birds be like your brothers or something.” She seemed deeply amused as he jerkily sidestepped another bloody pigeon. It was one thing he definitely preferred about the States. Birds in Europe were so much more entitled. Birds in Texas ended up on his plate.