Khalid had tried to put the past behind him; he’d put his father behind him and disowned the bastard as well as the half brothers who had never known a moment’s punishment for what they had done to Lessa.
Abram had taken care of her body. He’d had her cleaned, dressed, and buried as his faithful wife. He had gone to her funeral, and as he had written Khalid not long after, he had buried his soul with her.
It should have been over. His ties to the desert and the family he hated above all things should have been severed. They had been, until the suspicious death of Abram’s second wife and unborn child.
Ayid and Aman were determined to ensure that Abram and Khalid paid for the deaths of the women they called wives, the desert vipers who had been as merciless, as vicious as their husbands could ever hope to be. But even more they wanted vengeance for the loss of respect and the money Khalid had cost them each time he managed to track down and destroy one of the terrorist cells his brothers controlled.
After finishing his shower, Khalid dried himself, and then padded naked back to the bed. Marty was still sleeping peacefully in the same position he had left her in. Curled in the middle of his large bed, she looked much too small, too fragile to be the lover she had been such a short time ago.
Lifting the sheet, he eased into bed beside her. His heart clenched as she shifted, moaning a little before turning and rolling into his arms.
She fit against his body perfectly. Her head rested at his heart, her slender legs entwined with his. She was a warm, precious weight, one he feared for more than he wanted to admit.
He would protect her, he promised himself. Her fathers were watching out for her, as was Shayne. He wasn’t alone in protecting her and, unlike with Lessa, he knew the danger was there. He wouldn’t lose her to them. They wouldn’t take this woman and the life he had built for himself in the past ten years. He would kill them before he allowed it.
His brothers had marked themselves when they had struck at her. He wouldn’t rest now; he would never lower his guard or his determination to destroy them. If he had to destroy the throne to destroy them, then he would do so. Abram had better prepare himself, and he had better bring his part to the table quickly. Because Khalid wasn’t playing anymore.
16
After Shayne’s early morning meeting with her fathers the next day, Marty typed up her resignation, dotted all the i’s and crossed her t’s, ensured that the proper wording was there, then handed it to her godfather after his meeting with Shayne.
Zach’s expression had been quiet before he stared back at her, his gaze flashing with sorrow and regret before he gave her a sharp nod and turned away.
There was nothing left to do then but turn in the letter to her boss. The protocol irked her. Deerfield was an irritation she would have preferred not to deal with right now. The moment Marty walked into Deerfield’s office, she knew she should have just stayed in Khalid’s bed that morning.
Deerfield had shed his jacket and tie. His sleeves were rolled up and his hair was standing on end, as though he had plowed his fingers through it countless times. Hazel-green eyes stared at her with a hint of censure and brooding disgust as she stepped to his desk and laid the resignation on it.
“I’ll consider the rest of my vacation as advance notice of my intent to resign,” she stated, as she stared back at him with chilling regard. “I won’t be returning.”
“Sit down,” he ordered, his tone calm but steely with a muted fury.
Taking a seat, Marty watched him warily, wondering at the flush on his pale face and the glitter in his eyes. She could almost swear he had been drinking.
“Went running to Daddy, didn’t you, Agent Mathews. And here, according to our last meeting, you hadn’t done that since you were a child.”
Her chin lifted at the insult.
“The harassment in this office has gone beyond acceptable boundaries,” she said, as she crossed her legs and placed her hands confidently in her lap. “Your agents are on edge and your office is filled with backbiting political backstabbers, with the majority of them fighting to gain your acceptance and the support they need to do their jobs. I refuse to continue to work in such an atmosphere of complete disrespect and disregard for the laws we’re to uphold.”
He sneered back at her as he lifted the paper and glared at it again for a long moment.
Finally, Deerfield leaned back in his chair and simply watched her contemptuously.
“I’m certain you’re aware this office is now under investigation,” he stated. “Your godfather, our esteemed director, has decided he doesn’t like how it’s being run. I have no doubt you weren’t behind the information he’s received.”
Marty shook her head and let a small, mocking smile tilt her lips. “I was unaware of his plans until I began my vacation and learned of it,” she assured him, though she really hoped he didn’t believe her. “Any decisions he made, he made without my input. But I don’t disagree with it.”
“You and your father are a plague.” His lips pulled back from his teeth in a display of primal fury. “Neither of you want to accept that we’re not safe. That the country our agents die to protect is under attack, and that Khalid is a part of the disease moving into it.”
Marty sat silently; she wasn’t arguing Khalid’s innocence any further. Her last report stated all she had left to say about it.
“Your resignation.” He sat back in his chair once more as flicked his fingers toward the paper still lying on his desk. “I’ll file it. Collect your belongings and get the hell out of here. But when you’re staring into that monster’s eyes facing your own death, don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”
Marty moved to rise from her seat.
“Agent Mathews.” Leaning forward, Deerfield had her sitting back slowly in her seat. “The attack against you last week ties directly back to the Mustaffa family. Are you aware of that? He’s ready to rid himself of you and you can’t even see it.”
Marty didn’t speak. She stared back at him silently, following her godfather’s advice to allow him to dig his own hole to see how deep he was involved in this.
“If his family doesn’t kill you, others will. Mustafa has enemies.” He grimaced as, she suspected, he realized she cared very little for whatever he had to say. “Those enemies will kill you, simply because you’re associated with him.”
“I’ve known Khalid most of my life.” A small, knowing smile tipped her lips. “I’ve followed him for the past two years, and I know things about his life that I’m certain even he is unaware of. I believe by now I know exactly the man this Bureau has been harassing.”
“Harassing?” His voice sharpened angrily as he leaned forward. “This fucking office doesn’t harass anyone. We are investigators, Agent Mathews. We are all that is standing between the evil of this world and the country we are sworn to protect, this United States of America,” he yelled back at her. “That son of a bitch has never known what it is to suffer. To fight to rise above poverty or to fight for justice. He doesn’t know any fucking thing but the silver spoon shoved up his ass when he was born.”
Perspiration popped out on his forehead as his face flushed a dark, ruddy red. Anger sparked in his gaze and his lips pulled tight as he glared at her while she refused to speak.
She sat calmly, though she allowed the contempt to reflect in her face. It was better not to argue with him. At this point, it would be much more productive to allow his paranoia to build instead.
“Get the fuck out of here,” he snarled, when she said nothing. “I hope you sleep well at night.” His hand brushed the paper violently to the side of his desk.
She was dismissed that easily. Contempt glittered in Deerfield’s gaze, as did an edge of fear.
Rising to her feet, Marty moved to the door.
“He’s nothing but a fucking disease and you don’t want to see it,” he told her as she gripped the doorknob.”
“If he’s such a monster, then his enemies would already be taken care of, wouldn’t they?” she asked him. “Khalid is innocent, Deerfield. You simply refuse to accept it.”
She didn’t give him time to reply. Pulling the doorknob, she left the office quickly and strode past the secretary watching her suspiciously as she left.
The office was filled with suspicion and plots. Everyone watched everyone else with the knowledge that a meeting with Deerfield could signify yet another spate of harassment or suspicion of their character or their investigations.
No one was safe here when it came to having their character sliced and diced.
While entering the elevator, Marty clenched her teeth to hold back the curse trembling on her tongue. Damn Deerfield. The bastard made her want to rake his eyes out. He was condescending, superior, and completely neurotic. She had never been so certain of her decision to resign as she was at this moment.
After leaving the elevator, Marty walked quickly through the exit to the outside parking lot. Sunlight speared through the shelter of trees that filled the barriers between each section and lent a measure of shade to the overly warm day.
Stepping to the curb, she waited as the limo came to a stop in front of her. Stepping quickly from the driver’s side, Abdul rushed around the vehicle and opened the door for her with a flourish.
Marty slipped inside where Khalid and Shayne waited silently, their gazes on her.
“I can see a pleasant time has been had within the offices of the Federal Bureau of Investigation,” Khalid drawled knowingly. “Is Deerfield still living or should I start purchasing alibis and having federal surveillance videos acquired?”
He sounded much too certain that he could do exactly that, and in her experience, given enough money, most anything could be accomplished.
“He’s still alive,” she breathed out roughly as she pushed her fingers through her hair. Anger still washed from her in waves, instilling a heated tension in the air that had Marty’s nerve endings suddenly more sensitive than they should have been.
Or perhaps it was simply the fact that the two men were in the back of the limo together. After the past night, she found herself too aware of them, too aware of herself. It hadn’t been a problem after she had left the limo earlier to enter the federal building. That sensitivity had evaporated as though it had never been present. The moment she stepped back into the limo, though, it had increased in strength and depth.
“He’s riding a fine line.” Marty swallowed tightly as she tried to ignore the sexual intensity wrapping around her. “He’s been riding it for a while. And that’s a shame, because he was once a well-respected agent. He should have never been promoted to bureau chief.”
“Having me branded as a traitor and locked away would make it much easier for my brothers to get to me.” Khalid shrugged. “It would also implicate Abram and almost assure his execution. I feel no sympathy for him, love, and neither should you.”
“I don’t feel sympathy for him,” she sighed heavily. “Just for the agents working under him.”
“Agreed.” He nodded at her. “And it’s something Zach will be taking care of with the investigation he started. Deerfield ruined his own career when he targeted you as he did.”
Khalid moved to sit beside her, his hand lifting and curling around the back of her neck to stroke the sensitive flesh there gently.
The stroke of his calloused fingertips over her skin sent a shiver racing down her back. She was still sensitive, not sore exactly, but the flesh between her thighs knew it had been thoroughly ridden the night before.
The thought of it had her thighs clenching, as a sudden wave of heat flushed through her body. She could feel her pussy becoming sensitive, swollen, needy.
Breathing in deeply, her gaze lifted, suddenly becoming locked with Shayne’s.
“Shayne becomes very wired when he allows his anger free,” Khalid stated, as Marty felt her heart begin to race. “He’s furious that you had to go into Deerfield’s office and be subjected to his abuse alone.”
“I can handle Deerfield.” She had to force the words past her lips. “And I’m not a toy to relieve the stress with.” She shot Khalid a challenging look, knowing what it would do to his lust. She wanted to be their toy, just for a little while. A favorite toy. A much loved toy.
“I’ll be your toy,” Shayne said, as she felt Khalid’s hand move to her side, his fingers bunching in the material of her T-shirt to begin lifting it.
“Allow me to see how gently he would play with your perfect body, precious,” Khalid crooned, his dark voice filled with lust now.
She couldn’t breathe. Her chest felt constricted as Khalid shifted her, lifting her to his lap as he pulled the shirt from her body.
She shouldn’t allow this. Oh God, she was melting right there for them, allowing them to do whatever the hell they wanted to do, as though she were the toy she had said she wouldn’t be.
She had to admit, though, the thought of how wicked he could be in the back of the limo was burning through her now.
“We have several hours before we arrive at my mother’s estate to ensure my family’s protected,” Khalid whispered against her ear, as Shayne released the catch of her bra and spread the lace from her breasts. “How many different ways could we make you come?”
A lot, she was betting.
“I want your ass this time.” Shayne cupped her breasts as she stared back at him, dazed. “I want to watch my cock stretch you, watch you take me as you scream for more.”
She whimpered. Her pussy was so wet she swore she was soaking her jeans.
It didn’t take long to undress her, then themselves. Within minutes the back of the limo was steamy with sexual tension as Shayne lifted her to his knees, spread her thighs, and ran his fingers through the generous wealth of juices gathered between the folds of her pussy.
She only had eyes for Khalid now. One broad hand curved around the base of his cock before he stroked upward, caressing himself as he watched Shayne’s fingers find her clit.