Authors: Desiree Holt,Cerise DeLand
of art stolen by the Nazis during World War II.”
“
Dios mio!
” Umberto exclaimed.
“Indeed.” This from Isabella. “If that is true, then they have an emotional desire for
revenge as well as a practical one. For generations many families have tried to obtain
proof that the art these people display—and often lend to museums—is actually stolen
and should be returned.”
“Yeah,” Lane agreed, “but governments have been reluctant to rattle the cages of
people with enormous wealth who wield tremendous power. If that’s what these
people want, you’ve got generations of anger that has built up to this point. The
manipulation of the subprime mortgage market that precipitated the ruin of many
banks and businesses is just the launching pad for this attack.”
Emilio Umberto spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Then what can we
possibly do? My government will never agree to these demands. And I don’t think the
other G8 countries will, either.”
“But fortunately they’ve united to engage Nemesis to act for them,” Lane told him.
“I think Signorina Sebastiani and I need to check in to our hotel so we can make some
phone calls. Nemesis will work with the G8 representatives to craft some kind of
statement that will hold these people off until we can find Minister Franzoni and also
neutralize any threat to the upcoming conference.” He looked at Isabella. “Because of
high security, Dan is certain members of Octo cannot get into the building where the
meeting will be. But he also seems to think any other members of Octo will be hidden
somewhere along the arrival route of the ministers to the conference. Hotheads like this will want to view the results of their handiwork.”
“Let’s hope for lots of them,” she agreed. “If we can get our hands on any of them
we can find the others. But right now we need to do whatever we can to secure Arturo’s
release.”
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He rose from his chair and held out his hand to Umberto. “You know where we’re
staying if you need to reach us. And we have your phone numbers.” He slid a Nemesis
business card across the smooth wooden surface of the table. “If you get any more
telephone calls, report it to this number. Ask for Dan Foreman. He and his wife,
Madison, are coordinating everything from the home office.”
The man looked at the card. “I shouldn’t call you?”
Isabella shook her head. “They’ll have information
we
might not have yet. Call them. They’ll get in touch with us.” Bella stood quickly. “You know we must be in Paris tomorrow.”
“
Sì.
La Guardia di Finanza has authorized one of its jets for your transportation,”
Umberto told them. “All we need is your required departure time.”
“We’ll call you.” Isabella held out her hand. “We will get Arturo back,” she assured
him. “I promise.”
* * * * *
Isabella stood at the window, looking out at the streets of Rome, nightlights
twinkling against the velvet sky. They’d chosen a quiet little place called The
Mediterraneo. Isabella usually stayed there whenever she was in Rome, favoring the
easy walk to the train station, the Coliseum and the Forum as well as several consulates.
She loved its old-world charm and the deep, dark mahogany furnishings. They had a
magnificent breakfast buffet served in a room surrounded by Italian cut glass windows,
but regretfully she knew she’d have to pass on it this time. Their early departure would only give them enough time for flaky pastries and strong coffee.
On any other occasion she’d be ecstatic to be here in this seductive hotel in the city
of romance. Now, however, she was consumed with worry for her friend and the
foreboding of impending disaster.
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Lane came up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “That was Dan on
the phone. Umberto contacted him. There’s been another phone call, but this one was
from Franzoni.”
Isabella turned quickly. “Is he free? Is he safe?”
“No, sweetheart, but he says he’s not being mistreated. He just repeated what we
heard in the first call. Dan said it sounded as if he was reading from a script.”
“He probably was. I hope you’re right thinking they can’t afford to kill him.”
“He’s just a bargaining chip to let us know they mean business. Remember one of
the last things he said on his call with you was they wore balaclavas. That means he
can’t identify them, so if we comply with their wishes they have no reason to kill him.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes.” Lane turned her so she faced the window again. “He thinks they have a lead
to someone in Octo. He’s still working his contacts and he’s been talking to Adam. He
and Nicole will meet us in Paris tomorrow.”
“I’m so worried about Arturo.” She leaned back against him, loving the hard
warmth of his body.
“Everyone knows he’s a priority,” Lane assured her. “We’ll get it taken care of.”
“And there’s still the matter of Kopf Industries,” she reminded him. “Just because
Octo has decided to use terrorist means to attack them doesn’t mean there isn’t
something there to investigate.”
“But none of the G8 governments wanted to rattle that powerful cage,” Lane
reminded her. “I think when this particular crisis is resolved Nemesis may be
contracted to dig into the three men who own it. We can do it quietly, out of the
spotlight and without worrying about diplomatic breaches of etiquette.”
“I know. But right now I just feel so helpless and I hate it.” She laughed and there
was a touch of hysteria in the sound. “Give me a good bomb to dismantle any day.”
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Until Twilight
“Not this day.” Lane nibbled her earlobe and traced a line along the column of her
neck with the tip of his tongue. “No new reports of any bombs since the one at the
Franzoni residence, thank god.”
“Waiting is the worst of it. I just wish I could remember where I’d seen a bomb like
these before. I think it’s very important.”
“Quit trying so hard and it’ll come to you.”
“I want to be doing something but there’s nothing to do until we get to Paris.
Maybe we should have left tonight.”
“Tonight you decompress,” he told her. “The conference isn’t for forty-eight hours
yet and not all the ministers have arrived. You need to be at your sharpest in case they manage to plant any explosive devices.”
She sighed. “You’re right. I know you are. It’s just…” Her voice trailed off.
“Maybe I can help you work off some of that nervous energy.”
His hands slid down to her breasts, fingers tweaking her nipples through the silk of
her blouse while his tongue continued to dance along the sensitive skin of her neck. He cupped the weight of her breasts in his palms while his fingers continued to play with
the stiff peaks.
Isabella closed her eyes and sighed, letting the warmth of his touch seep through
her. As he worked her taut nipples and rubbed her breasts she felt the anxiety slowly
easing from her body to be replaced with a different kind of tension. He continued to
pay attention to her neck and the spot behind each ear that sent shivers through her.
Deftly, he opened the buttons on her blouse, tugged the garment from her skirt and
eased it from her body.
His body tightened against her back when he disposed of her bra and her breasts
stood free in the lamplight. His cock was a thick ridge pressing against her buttocks
through the fabric of his trousers while he rubbed and kneaded and pinched and
teased.
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Desiree Holt & Cerise DeLand
She was getting wetter by the minute, a deep throbbing resonating through her
body from her womb, the walls of her pussy fluttering with hunger and need. A hum of
satisfaction sighed from her mouth and Lane’s deep chuckle vibrated against her
shoulder.
“You are so damn responsive, Bella. It’s a wonder I can ever keep my hands off
you.”
Swiftly he unzipped her skirt and let the fabric pool at her feet on the floor, leaving her in just the whisper of material that was her lacy thong.
“What you do to lingerie should be considered illegal,” he murmured. “I look at
you and I want to throw you on the bed and fuck you senseless.”
“Not a bad idea,” she said, breathless as one hand slid down her tummy over her
mound to find her wet, swollen folds and her aching clit.
“But then I wouldn’t get to do this.” He took her clit between two fingers and
squeezed gently. “Or this.” One long finger slid the length of her slit, rubbing the slick flesh. “Or this.”
Abruptly he moved his hand, turned her to face him and held her gaze while he
slowly licked her cream from his fingers. The sight of it was so arousing a fresh surge of liquid drenched her and the throbbing in her womb increased in intensity.
“Taste yourself on me, Bella,” he growled, and captured her mouth with his.
His kiss was hungry, demanding, dominating. His tongue lapped at the seam of her
lips and they parted for him, allowing him to thrust inside. Every flick of his tongue on her inner surfaces was like the touch of a live wire, leaving licks of flame heating her.
With his mouth still fused to hers, he placed his hands beneath the globes of her ass
and lifted her, carrying her to the bed. He positioned her on the edge with her legs
hanging over and eased the thong down and off. Then spread her thighs wide and bent
her legs so her feet were planted on the edge of the mattress, his hungry gaze on her
exposed pussy.
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Tremors raced through her as the heat of his gaze swept over her.
“Beautiful,” he breathed, and reached down to trace the line of her slit from end to
end. Again he licked his finger, slowly, teasingly, before reaching down to touch her
again. “And delicious.”
He dropped to his knees, spread the lips of her pussy and closed his mouth over
her clit.
Isabella nearly rose off the bed at the jolt of electricity that raced through her.
“Lane!” she gasped, and fisted her hands in the coverlet to anchor herself.
He ignored her whimper of pleasure and pulled at her clit with his lips, sucking it
into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue. His fingers held the lips of her pussy
wide for his pleasure as he ate at her clit and drew hard on the throbbing bundle of
nerves.
One finger slid easily into her well-lubricated pussy, then another, curving so the
tips found that hot spot just beneath her clit. When he pressed upward in cadence with
the sucking pull of his mouth, her body exploded, a climax racing over her like a tidal wave, consuming her. She dug her heels into the mattress and arched herself up to him,
wanting more. No. It was too much.
Lane never missed a beat, his mouth pulling on her clit as his fingers dragged
against her hot spot. When the tremors eased and she lay back panting, he slowly
withdrew his fingers from her cunt, carrying her cream with them and using it to
lubricate the tight ring of her anus.
“Oh god!” She jumped at his touch.
“Ssh,” he soothed. “Easy. We’re just getting started here.”
He scooped more liquid from her still-quivering cunt and massaged it into that
tense muscle before slowly easing the tip of one finger inside her. Isabella pushed
herself up to him, little cries of pleasure spilling from her mouth. When he had his
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Desiree Holt & Cerise DeLand
finger fully inside, he went back to work on her clit with his mouth, tugging and
nipping and sucking.
Incredibly the coil of need inside her began to unspool like a hot, silken thread.
When he moved his other hand to slide two fingers into her pussy again every nerve in
her body fired, every muscle clenched.
She sank into a cloud of erotic heat where the only thing she felt was his fingers
plunging in and out of both her needy tunnels and his clever mouth tormenting her clit.
On and on it went, the flame building and building and then being eased back down
until she couldn’t focus on anything except that tight coil of need ready to spring again.
“Oh please,” she begged. “Please, please, please.”
His low chuckle vibrated against her sensitive cunt and intensified the hunger
racing through her. In the next instant he thrust his fingers hard into both channels and bit lightly on her clit and again she erupted, consumed by yet another orgasm. Her
body convulsed, every muscle clamping down as Lane worked to draw out her
response until she fell back a limp, sweaty mass.
He rose to his feet, a sensuous smile curving his lips, and began to strip off his
clothes.
“Now,” he said. “Now we get down to business.”
“Business?” she could hardly get a word out. “What was that you were just doing?”
“Getting you ready,
bellissima
.”
He tossed his clothes aside and stood there for a moment looking at her body, his
eyes lit with carnal need, his cock thick and swollen and standing rigidly away from his body. Even as spent as she was, Isabella drank in the sight of him and unbelievably felt the stirrings of heat yet again low in her belly.
Lane rearranged her on the bed and moved between her thighs, expertly rolling on
a condom with one hand.
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“I want to be inside you now,” he ground out. “Tasting that sweet pussy, feeling it,