I Spy a Naughty Game sa-2 Page 3

  “You wish.”

  He peered at her, blinking as her features came slowly into focus. A blond halo framed her beautiful face, and big blue eyes, shadowed with concern, regarded him from under a fringe of wispy bangs. Shaking Emma’s steely calm wasn’t an easy thing for most people to do, but Blaze seemed capable of doing nothing except hurting her. Being reminded of that tempered his joy at having her by his side and put a swift end to any thoughts of teasing her.

  “What happened?”

  “You took two bullets trying to protect Jude St. Laurent from Robert Dietz,” she said, releasing his hand. “Your vest prevented serious damage to your chest, but the other shot glanced off that thick skull of yours. Never had a chance of penetrating, any more than the one to your heart.”

  He smiled at her sarcasm. The fact that she could sit there and joke with him in any way gave him hope. Before he could form a reply, however, the first part of what she said hit him. “Wait. You said ‘trying to protect.’ Is St. Laurent dead?”

  “He’s hanging in there, but still critical. He and Dietz fought, and Dietz injected him with a dose of poison that almost proved lethal.”

  “Oh, God. I…” A series of images assaulted him, like an old, brittle reel of film jumping on the track. Scouting the perimeter of the safe house in Tennessee. Armed men, bursting through the trees. Raising his weapon, taking out two of them. Dietz, returning fire. Then nothing. “How long ago was this?”

  “One week. You’ve been pretty out of it, and we — I mean Michael and Dr. McKay — have been waiting for the swelling on your brain to subside.”

  “Christ.” A crushing weight settled on his chest, and he broke eye contact, staring at the wall opposite his bed. His head pounded with renewed viciousness.

  “What’s wrong?” She paused, waiting several long moments while he struggled with his answer. “Blaze?”

  “I was given a job to do and I failed. Because I failed, St. Laurent almost died.”

  “No! You didn’t,” she insisted. “You did what you could, but Dietz got the drop on you. He’s a snake, a disease, and nobody blames you.”

  “Not even Jude or Michael?” He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his tone.

  “Especially not Michael,” said a deep voice. Ross strode inside and closed the door behind him, glancing between Blaze and Emma. “If anyone is to blame for this colossal fuck-up, it’s me. But it’s a fuck-up I intend to rectify, and I’ll need both of you on board to do it.”

  “Does it involve shoving my M16 up Dietz’s pale white ass?” He relished the thought of making the asshole cry for mercy.

  “You’ll have to stand in line, but maybe. In the meantime, I’m putting together a team to go undercover and find out where the hell Dietz has hidden a weapon of mass destruction capable of taking out a small country. The bastard and his fellow traitors stole it from the U.S. government and plan to sell it to an antigovernment extremist group of homegrown psychos. Get well fast, because you and Emma are my star players.”

  “I take it your brand of persuasion hasn’t forced Dietz to talk,” Blaze mused. “Bastard must be tougher than he seems.”

  “I did handpick him for that very quality, among others,” Michael said with no little regret. “You guys in?”

  Blaze nodded, ignoring the spike of pain in his head. “The minute McKay clears me, I’m ready.”

  “Me, too,” Emma put in. She sounded sure, but the look she slid Blaze was guarded.

  She had reservations about working with him, and while it hurt, neither did he blame her. He’d just have to work extra hard to regain her trust, even though he had no idea how. Though missing her had nearly driven him insane, he’d always embraced his sexuality with no limits and hadn’t been celibate during their months apart. He was a Dom, a good one in his opinion, and the D/s lifestyle was a part of his identity as a man — a fact she didn’t appreciate.

  On top of that, Emma was everything he wasn’t and never would be. She was cool and steady, all of her passion carefully guarded. Untouchable, except by the one man fortunate enough to know how to tap it. She was thoughtful, not one to waste words. As a result, other agents stopped what they were doing and listened intently to what she had to say because it was usually important.

  With her thoughtfulness came the kindness and easy camaraderie she shared with other agents. Blaze thought of Emma and Osborne laughing at lunch, heads bent together; their familiarity, the other man enjoying the friendship Blaze never could again, shot him through the heart every time.

  Emma was strong, too, both physically and mentally. He’d seen her in the workout room, flipping Ozzie over her shoulder and pinning him to the mat, sweat dripping down her face. Others could call her butch all they wanted — he called her beautiful, body and soul. Any woman who could hold her own with the baddest guys SHADO had to offer and then not flaunt it was gorgeous in his book.

  Emma was her own person, and she didn’t need him.

  He had only one thing in his favor that he could see — Emma still cared about him. And as an added bonus, they’d be working together, a situation he would ruthlessly use to his advantage. Seven months ago, perhaps he’d given up on himself and Emma too soon.

  It was a mistake he wouldn’t make again.

  Three

  “You want me to do what?”

  Emma gaped at Michael, cheeks flushing with heat. Three other agents, including Blaze and Ozzie, studied her reaction with expressions ranging from sympathy to amusement — and a glance told her which category her ex fell into. Jerk.

  Leaning on the front of his desk, Michael crossed his arms over his chest, neither sympathetic nor amused. Her stomach sank.

  “You’re an agent and this is a matter of national security. I have complete faith that you can put aside your differences with Kelly and pull off this assignment, especially with millions of lives depending on your success.”

  “Well, hell,” she muttered irritably, raking her fingers through her hair. “Nothin’ like a little guilt trip, huh?” She glared at the whole room in general, mentally scrambling for some way to regain control of her own destiny. Establish that she had some say in the matter. “You can’t force me to pose as Kelly’s sub, or slave, or whatever the fuck it’s called. Not for God, country, or apple pie. If I’m not on board, it won’t work.”

  There. Michael would just have to come up with an alternative plan. She imitated her boss’s posture, feeling pretty darned pleased with herself, especially when he sighed and nodded his defeat.

  “You’re right. I can’t force you or anyone to work undercover in a role that will likely require you to participate in an extreme sexual environment. The female agent who works with Blaze will have to throw herself into the role.” His eyes glittered as he shot her a calculating smile. “You win, Agent Foster. I’ll find another woman to be his partner, which I’m sure will produce a fair number of volunteers.”

  “What?” Emma sputtered. “Hold on—”

  “What about Agent Roark?” one of the men, Willis, suggested.

  “You mean Agent Rack,” said Ozzie, waggling his eyebrows and cupping his hands suggestively in front of his chest. “Damn, she’s hot. And willing, I’ll bet!”

  “Wait just a damned—”

  “Or there’s Agent Scott. Heard from a reliable source that she’s superkinky, has the stamina of a racehorse, and wouldn’t mind a repeat of a certain weekend with our boy here,” Willis said, jabbing a thumb at Blaze.

  Who grinned insolently from his seat and stretched out his long jean-clad legs. “Oh, yeah. If anybody can embrace an undercover role like this one, Sheila can.”

  Michael picked up his phone. “Good. I’ll give her a buzz—”

  “Fine! I’ll do it!” Emma’s shout echoed in the room, effectively bringing the stupid conversation to a halt. Bastards, every one of them. They’d known exactly what they were doing, and it worked. She was going to neuter Ozzie the traitor with a melon baller. “I’m in all the way.�
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  “Be very certain,” Michael said. “I’m asking you to put aside your personal taboos for the job, and if you fail to be one hundred percent convincing, you and Kelly will die. These are dangerous men with something huge to hide, and they don’t mess around.”

  “I’m sure.” Confronted with the picture of Blaze doing with another agent what he’d done with that woman at the club that night, mastering her over and over, she couldn’t stand the idea of sending him off knowing he’d be playing with someone else for the duration of the assignment. “Who are these people we’re hoping to infiltrate? I can’t imagine a bunch of military-type extremists being into the D/s scene, or making time for any kind of fun for that matter.”

  “Which is why we’re aiming our sting higher up, where the money is,” Blaze said. “The group we’re after has plenty to burn, and they’re our prime suspects for being Dietz’s financers. We need you to confirm their identities and determine whether they know where the weapon is hidden and what group is buying it.”

  Emma studied Blaze, striving to keep her expression professional. God, the man looked good enough to eat. “I assume we’re talking millions of dollars on the sale?”

  “Hundreds of millions. Seems there’s a high price tag on total annihilation.”

  His answer wasn’t flip at all, was in fact as serious as she’d ever heard coming from him, and it gave her a chill. “And the U.S. is the ultimate target?”

  “Yep. Tens of millions of people, wiped out by our own innovation in biochemical warfare. Whoever is in the target area when the bomb hits and isn’t killed in the initial blast will fall ill from the chemical agent that’s released into the air, and then die within forty-eight hours. There’s no way to stop the spread, and no cure.”

  Emma’s eyes rounded at the horrifying prospect. She’d known the weapon would kill millions, but this was the first she’d heard of how it operated. “If the target area is located between Washington, D.C., and New York, they could take out both, and everything in between.”

  “We don’t have any time to lose and only a few strong indicators at this point of who’s working with Dietz,” Michael said with an edge of frustration. “No proof yet. That’s why I need you two undercover at the club these men frequent. Study this file, then ferret them out and get cozy as quick as you can without raising suspicion.” Reaching behind him, he grabbed a file folder and handed it to Blaze, who nodded but didn’t open it. Michael indicated the other two agents in the room. “Osborne and Willis have their own copies.”

  Emma guessed she and Blaze would go over the contents later. “Dietz’s backers are going to be ready for SHADO to make a move. I’m with you — don’t get me wrong — but I don’t see how this is going to work.”

  Blaze disagreed. “Dietz’s accomplices will be prepared for surveillance and even an outright assault should we locate the weapon, but they don’t know we have a lead on their backers. These guys are rich fat cats, not warriors. They’re complacent, oversexed, and full of their own power. That’s what we’ll use to our advantage, combined with your skills in changing our appearance.”

  “My illusions are designed to blend agents into the background,” she pointed out. “When we’re actually in the club mingling with these people, fading into the walls won’t exactly be our goal.”

  “True, but that’s only part of the time. We’ll do some field surveillance as well, so your talents won’t be wasted.” Blaze gave her a thorough once-over, making it clear he wasn’t just referring to her skills in the area of makeup artistry.

  Damn the man — the double entendre tightened her nipples and made her grow uncomfortably warm between her thighs. That he could affect her this way in a room full of her colleagues was as disturbing as it was arousing, and it left her scrambling for a response.

  Michael saved her the trouble. “Let’s meet back here in twenty-four hours. Know the men in these files forward and backward, and we’ll plan the rest of our timeline from there.”

  At the clear dismissal, Emma filed out after Willis and Ozzie, determined to catch her friend and give him hell for throwing her under the bus. Her plans were thwarted by her ex-lover, however, who gently grasped her arm.

  “Hold up, tiger. We have a file to memorize, and I’m hungry. Let’s pick up some dinner and go back to my place — kill two birds, so to speak.”

  Bracing herself mentally, she turned to face him and barely restrained a grimace at the sight of the small bandage gracing his temple that she’d ignored during their meeting. The patch of white gauze served as an unwelcome reminder of just how close he’d come to having his brains splattered all over the Tennessee countryside. She squirmed under his golden gaze, struggling to keep her composure.

  “I don’t think going to your place is a good idea. We can grab something from the cafeteria here and study in my office.”

  He made a face. “All night? Because that’s what we’re facing if we hope to have the info in that file down pat by tomorrow. No, I’d rather be home where we can get comfortable, or even at your place. Anywhere but here.”

  Well, she didn’t really want to stay at the compound, either. It was putting herself in an intimate situation with her ex, which she had qualms about. Which was ridiculous now that she thought of it, since she was going to have to get real intimate with the man again, very soon.

  “My house it is, then,” she said. Better the illusion of control, even if it was only that. She was damned good at illusion, after all.

  “I’ll drive.” His grin sent a thrill up her spine.

  “I’ve got my car.”

  “I’ll bring you back tomorrow, honey. No worries.”

  “Should you even be behind the wheel? I heard you’re still having headaches.”

  “McKay says they’ll last a few days and then fade. Nothing I can’t handle.”

  She sighed. Really, arguing with the man was like pulling hen’s teeth — impossible. “Fine.”

  Irked, she did her best to ignore him as he followed her while she locked her office and classroom. But it didn’t work. His presence was like a beacon of light on a bug zapper, with herself starring as the bug. Why the hell couldn’t she stay away from something she knew would only gain her more heartbreak?

  Shouldering her purse, she trailed him across the parking lot, unable to stop herself from sneaking peeks at his ass. And what a fine ass it was, high and tight, hugged to mouth-watering perfection in those jeans, the denim faded in all the right places. She remembered well the smooth tanned globes hidden underneath the material, the way they fit her palms just so as he drove himself—

  “Emma?”

  She blinked at him. “What?”

  “Um, the car is unlocked, darlin’.”

  So it was. Somehow they’d reached his vehicle, and he was smirking at her across the roof from the driver’s side, waiting for her to come back from dreamland. Her face heated, and she scowled. “I was just thinking about the assignment.”

  “Uh-huh. I’ll bet,” he drawled.

  Arg! Arrogant man. Not giving him the satisfaction of a reply, she slid into the passenger’s seat of the low-slung Viper. The second he joined her, she felt trapped, being shut into the small space with him, closer than she’d been in months. His spicy scent, his unique blend of light cologne and earthy male, filled her senses and caused a stab of longing. He’d been hers once, or at least she’d believed, and she’d lost him.

  The pain never went away.

  “You’re thinking too loud,” he said, driving through the gate with a wave to the guard on duty.

  “I have a lot on my mind.”

  “Care to share?”

  She studied his handsome profile and reached out to finger a long, silky strand of dark hair. Time for a diversion. “About changing our appearances. We’re going to have to cut this.”

  “What?” Shooting a look at her, he laughed. “No can do. You’re not getting near my head, or any other part of my body, with a pair of scissors.”
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  “Oh, don’t worry. If I haven’t sneaked up on you and chopped off something vital by now, I probably won’t,” she said dryly.

  “Not taking any chances. You’ll have to come up with a different way to alter me — sorry. The hair is off-limits.”

  She was kind of glad. She loved his hair long, not that she’d admit it now if the world was about to end. Which it might soon, if they failed in their mission.

  “Okay. How about highlights, maybe to lighten the color and streak it with autumn tints. And blue contacts for your eyes.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “I can pull rank on this one if you want to make it an issue,” she reminded him. “Disguises are my area of expertise, and I’m in charge.”

  “So you are.” Those sexy lips quirked upward. “I do love a take-charge woman — in every way but one.”

  Her libido did a happy dance without her permission. He infuriated and aroused her by turns, as no man ever had. “So I recall.” She hadn’t meant to snap, but dammit, he made her nuts.

  “Do you?” His voice lowered, and he reached over, one of his big, calloused hands covering hers. His thumb stroked the soft skin on the back of her hand, the contact radiating pleasurable signals to the rest of her nerve endings. “Do you honestly remember how much I enjoyed taking you to your limits, how badly I craved finally pushing you beyond them?”

  “Blaze, I don’t want to talk about this.” The statement would’ve been more convincing if her voice hadn’t quavered.

  “Oh, I believe you do. You came to me that night to tell me you were ready to take the next steps, to give my world a try. You wanted it, wanted me.”

  “That was before…” She couldn’t finish.

  “Before you saw my cock sliding down Caitlin’s pretty throat?” he asked, voice husky with remembered pleasure. “Before you spied me helping Ryan master his eager sub, and enjoyed every second of it? Because I believe you did enjoy it, and that’s why you got so angry. I know you, Emma. You liked what you saw and it didn’t fit into your black-and-white worldview, so you lashed out in confusion. Tell me I’m wrong.”