Authors: Laura Bailey
He needed to get his mind off this situation. He needed to let it go tonight. It would drive him crazy if not. He headed home, locked the car in the Garage, going up into his apartment and immediately turning on some classical music; its ability to calm him had been a blessing many a time. He needed to be up early for a breakfast meeting with a client downtown, so he went straight to bed; but her face was in his mind’s eye as he lay there awake.
Tara had spent a very restless night, sleeping fitfully and now felt dreadful; even more so as she recalled the incessant images that had run through her mind as she lay there most of the night; Damien Lawson’s presence imposing on her. She failed to understand why she saw him so devastatingly attractive in such awful circumstances, but the visions of him were so real it was like he was touching her physically with his presence, like a fever running through her; a strange carnal craving for a dangerous man. Lack of sleep, lack of food, were weakening her and she needed to pull herself together. Getting showered and dressed she resolved to go to the cafe a couple of blocks away for a good breakfast.
It wasn’t until she sat down that she suddenly realised she didn’t even have enough money to buy a breakfast. Humiliated, she left before ordering and walked back home. Cursing Mike for the hundredth time in the few days, she knew she would have to return to London soon if he did not return. She had no legal right to work in this Country, and couldn’t survive much longer without an income.
Damian had spent the day in meetings, from the morning until the early part of the evening, back to back. Although it was good for business, they sometimes bored him; he often yearned for action, missing the adrenaline of his former times. As the sun started to set, he drove through the Capitol to the Club. He was an hour or so early to meet her. He greeted a couple of other members as he entered, engaging in a brief conversation with them, knowing most of the members here since he had been coming over the last few years, many of them having served with him at one time or another in the Military.
He opted to sit alone though and wait for her, choosing the same table from the night before. He realised how long it had been since he had sat waiting to meet a woman, not that this was a date of course, but it did make him think about it, given the appeal she held. It had been a long time without a woman. For good reason he reminded himself. Loyalty in a woman, he had discovered, was a rare find. Maybe it was the instability of his profession, but he had found that the women he had known were not too good at sticking around for the long haul. Admittedly, when he used to be away for months at a time, maybe he couldn’t really blame them. Here in this club was the closest thing he had to loyalty, family. He picked up the newspaper to read, killing time, occasionally looking out of the window to see if he would spot her coming. He found himself staring more out of the window than reading.
In the shadows outside he thought he could see her now approaching; her figure delicate in the darkness surrounding her, just her pale face visible, framed by her long hair. His eyes turned to the entrance of the bar to watch her enter. Dressed in a simple short woollen grey dress, down to her knees, he noticed that she dressed modestly, and he like the subtlety.
She stood at the threshold of the bar, looking around for him and seeing him seated at the same table as the night before. She took that as an ominous sign; like a replay of the previous nights unpleasantness was waiting for her.
“What can I get you to drink?” he asked her, standing up.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“No, really, I insist; business is always better settled over a drink. Same as last night I presume?”
“Thank you.” She looked into his face and was drawn again by the strength of his eyes, the fierce intelligence.
He rose to get them and within moments returned, glasses in hand.
“So Miss Bailey. What information do you have for me?”
“Mr Lawson,” she mimicked him. “I don’t have any information; as I told you last night. I am merely repeating myself.”
“Get up.”
“Pardon?”
“I said get up!”
“What?”
“I mean it. Get up or I will drag you up, right here, in front of everyone.”
“Don’t be absurd.”
He was up out of his seat quicker than she would have thought it possible. He grabbed hold of her upper arms and practically lifted her out of the chair.
“Don’t make a sound; don’t make a scene. It will do you no good. We’re just going somewhere a little quieter to have a talk.”
He dragged her bodily out of the bar. She wondered why no–one sought to intervene, but then she was in their club, where everyone knew each other, she was the outcast. As he pulled her along, she complied with him, walking at his pace, embarrassed to be treated as such in so public a way. Reasoning to herself that this man was a well known figure in Washington, not some common criminal kidnapping her, there was only so far he would go, surely. He led her by the arm into the lobby and up the stairs to the next floor, where on either side were wooden doors.
“You’re hurting me.”
“Nearly there.”
He maintained his grip and his pace. With his free hand he fished into his jeans pocket and retrieved a key. He took her to the farthest door on the left, opened it and pushed her inside. She tugged her arm free.
“You can get off me now.” Her eyes blazed at him, rubbing at her arm where he had held her. “Just what do you think you are doing?”
Both standing still by the door, eyes locked on each other, he backed her hard against the door. His body pressed against hers. Her heart hammering in her chest. He placed his palm directly against her heart, just below her left breast, felt it pumping feverishly. His face so close to hers, she could smell his scent; rich, evocative, raw. She could feel his hand hot through her dress. His other hand lifted her hair out of her eyes with remarkable gentleness.
“I need you to tell me what is going on.” He said, in almost a whisper. In another situation it would have sounded like an endearment.
“I don’t know.”
He let his eyes leave her face; staring at the wall for a moment for two, all the while holding her still.
“I don’t think you understand how badly I want to know.”
He looked back at her and now she feared him, yet there was defiance in her eyes. He missed nothing.
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“Do what you want.” Her chin had risen and she squared her face to him. “I don’t care.”
His arm went around the back of her neck and he propelled her forward, the other arm around her waist, steadying her as he steered her directly to the huge king sized wooden framed bed.
“Sit down” he barked at her.
She shouted back at him. “I came to you to find him.”
“Listen to me. He has five million dollars of mine. He knows I will hunt him down and that he couldn’t take you until the coast is clear. And frankly I’m not very happy about it. Does he really think I would be fooled by some innocent looking woman, throwing me a sob story to get me off your scent? Now, turn the tables and I think you will see that I’m not impressed. Did you help him out with that little part of the plan darling? You used to work in a security company over in London. That’s where you met him. Did you come up with it over there?”
“I was an administrator; that’s all.” Tara genuinely had no idea what he was talking about.
“Five million?” She said more to herself than him. “My God.”
The silence between them lasted a few moments. Damien glaring at her relentlessly; stewing. Her mind was whirling.
“Hold on. Have you stopped to think his accomplice just might be someone closer to home? He didn’t work alone; you employ many others, he did jobs with them. It could be any of those.”
Yes, the thought had occurred to him, and quite simply, he had of late engaged in some pretty strong armed tactics questioning those who he thought could have done it. He wasn’t popular back at the office anymore. The guys didn’t know who he was going to turn on next. But all around him he was looking for the one who had betrayed him. In his mind, he was potentially surrounded by deceit and it was a lonely place to be. He knew she had a valid point. It increased the pain he felt. He wanted to lash out.
“Answer me or I’m walking out of here.” She wasn’t joking; he could tell by the look on her face; she genuinely didn’t seem to know about the money; or she was the best actress he’d ever seen.
“Damn you woman.”
She rose from the bed but in one stride he was over her, spun her around, and bent her over the bed.
“Get your hands off me.” She bucked against him. He held her down more firmly.
“I don’t think so. You’re brave; I’ll give you that.”
“I’m going to scream for help if you don’t get the hell off.”
“Go ahead, we’re amongst my friends in this place, I don’t think they are going to come running to help you.”
“You bastard.” She used her feet to try to kick back at him. Her teeth found one of his hands and she bit into him, enraged at his treatment of her. He managed to pull his hand away; the urge to belt her around the head so strong that he had to literally count to ten in his head. At number eight he seemed to have made an instinctive but unconscious decision; he raised his right hand and brought it down on her behind. Spanking her buttocks without restraint; thoroughly, repeatedly. Not viciously, in fact not very hard at all, but all the same he found a satisfaction in it. More than a satisfaction, it triggered a desire in him to pound her in a different, sexual way, to take her hard from behind, between her luscious thighs; the sight of her shapely ass wobbling under his hand. He transcended to a need to take her as his, punish her with his body, to claim her, plunge into her tightness; his groin straining, hard now and throbbing, desperate to have her. His mind was clouding in confusion. He stopped suddenly, shocked at himself, going into the bathroom quickly, running the cold water scooping some up, throwing it over his face, his hand going through his hair.
Emerging from the bathroom, Tara had turned around now, facing him, flushed, her eyes darkened by the dilation of her pupils. She was standing by the bed, hands shaking, unnerved yet strangely aroused by what had felt such an intensely erotic act.
The tension between them was thick and tight. His body primed for an action they both knew was wrong, and a storm of intent still evident in his eyes.
“You better leave now. While you still can.”
She didn’t argue. Threatened by him yet unremittingly drawn to him she knew she had to go. Passing members in the lobby, she fled into the cool night air.
Chapter Three
What the hell was he thinking? Why did he just do that? Damien unbuttoned his shirt, dropping it on the floor, stripping out of his jeans. He walked into the bathroom and stood under the shower. He knew how to interrogate people; had years of experience doing it. And that certainly wasn’t a method he had used before. In fact, he had never behaved in that kind of way at all, in interrogation or otherwise. But there was something in those dark blue eyes of hers that he had never seen before, something he needed but didn’t understand.
Early the next morning, he called his team into his office.
“Ten days have now passed. I don’t need to remind you that heads are going to roll in this place, quite literally if I don’t get some answers soon. Mike didn’t do this on his own.” He sees betrayal all around him. Stony faces, silence, no responses.
“Now I know you are all fully aware of the repercussions.” Of course they were; they had served in the Special Forces alongside him. They knew him. Likewise, Damien didn’t expect anyone to step forward quite so publicly in this meeting. But he needed to let them know. The situation wasn’t going to go away; it was only going to get worse. He was close to losing any semblance of calmness. He felt the anger and disappointment in his core. He looked over at Todd, a long time colleagues with an even temperament, even though he was six foot four and built like a house.
“Stay behind will you? The rest of you can go.”
Once the room had cleared, Damien gestured for Todd to take a seat.
“I talked to Mike’s Fiancé. Last night.”
“And?”
“I don’t know...I don’t think she had anything to do with it, but I’m not sure. At this stage, she‘s still someone we need to keep an eye on. I’m not ruling her out just yet. How are the background checks on her going over in London?”
“Nothing suspicious has come up at all; still looking.”
“Ok, stay on it will you?”
“Will do.”
“Thanks Todd, appreciate it.”
“No problem.” He got up and left the room.
Alone now, Damien knew he didn’t think she had anything to do with it, deep down. He plainly saw the genuine look of surprise on her face when he mentioned the money. He wasn’t one hundred percent certain; pretty close, but his mind was confused by her; objectivity becoming lost. He wanted her to be guilty, needed it. Needed to punish her; needed her physically; wanted to be deep inside her, driving her hard until he found the release he had needed for so long. She beguiled him, so composed and beautiful in the heightened chaos of the drama surrounding her yet so fiery at the same time.
He picked up his cell. “We need to talk. I apologise that things got a little out of hand last night. Meet me at the Club this afternoon, 3pm. There will be a lot of people around; there is a reunion going on. You will be perfectly safe.” He knew he had deeper, darker motives but he couldn’t stop himself.