Total control, p.17
Total Control, page 17
“I think we’re even now,” she murmured when she’d recovered enough to speak.
“No,” he growled. “You’re still one up. Not that I give a shit.” He reached up and pulled her down, holding her tight, nuzzling against her neck. “Because we’re doing this again, Sabrina. Just so you know. Again and again.”
The words were a relief, because she wanted to do it again and again with him too. But there was a part of her that was scared, that wasn’t sure she wanted to get in any deeper with him than she was already. She didn’t want to argue though, not when he was beneath her, holding her, his warm body better than any mattress.
So she only nodded wordlessly, her head pillowed on his hard chest, listening to his heartbeat as she drifted off to sleep again.
CHAPTER 11
Kellan was awakened the next morning by someone shaking his shoulder.
“Kel, wake up,” a feminine voice demanded.
Sabrina.
A rush of heat went through him, his morning hard-on suddenly getting a hell of a lot harder, and he automatically reached out, his hand encountering warmth and feminine curves.
He gave a growl of appreciation and pulled her against him. Or at least he tried, until she went stiff with resistance and shook him again.
“No, we don’t have time for that,” she said impatiently. “Wake up. I need to show you something.”
Kellan opened one eye.
Sabrina was sitting on the bed next to him, unfortunately dressed again in her sleep shorts and T-shirt, her laptop held on her knees. Her cheeks were pink and her hazel eyes were glowing, and he could still feel her fingers on him from earlier on that morning, still feel her mouth wrapped around his cock.
“You need to be naked,” he murmured, tightening his arm around her waist, unable to drag his gaze from her lips.
She made another impatient sound. “And you need to focus. I’ve been decrypting what was on that hard drive.”
Instantly all thoughts of sex vanished, a pulse of adrenaline overwhelming the earlier heat.
He released her and sat up, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Okay, tell me. What did you find?”
“Right, so it was weird. The thing was encrypted, like I said, but decrypting it was . . . Well, let’s just say that I was expecting it to be much harder. Anyway, that’s not the only thing that was strange. There’s only one file on it and it’s a list of dates and what looks like map coordinates.”
Kellan frowned. Did that mean . . . ? “That’s it? That’s the file that Night was looking for?”
“I mean . . . it must be. There’s nothing on his desktop, which must mean that hard drive.”
Something tight inside Kellan gathered a little bit tighter. Shit, he was hoping for something more conclusive than that. Like, say, nothing at all. “We need to look up those coordinates,” he said flatly. “Figure out what they refer to. They could mean nothing.”
“Well, I did look them up. They refer to various different places in Central and South America. Colombia, Guatemala, Peru.”
His gut clenched, a sick feeling settling inside it. Jesus. All places that had a healthy drug trade ruled by the South American cartels. “Great. So it’s entirely possible that the coordinates relate back to this arms ring bullshit then.”
The glow in Sabrina’s eyes dimmed. “Yes, it could.”
Ah . . . fuck. So this was it? Did finding this file mean his father was guilty?
And if he is, what other lies has he told you? What have you been protecting all these years?
But he couldn’t accept that. Wouldn’t. His father had to be innocent. He had to be. Because the alternative was that Kellan had given up his child all those years ago, to protect a liar. A hypocrite. A man who’d sold guns to kill innocent people.
That’s not the reason.
No, he wasn’t thinking about this anymore. What he needed was to figure out what the hell the info in the file meant, so he could prove his father’s innocence once and for all.
“Was there anything else in the file?” The question came out sharp, but he didn’t bother to soften it. “Anything at all?”
If his tone bothered her, she didn’t show it. “There was a name. Only the one, which I thought was really strange. Andrew Elliott. That mean anything to you?”
Oh yeah, it meant something all right.
“Elliott’s one of Dad’s cronies. Used to be ex-military and now owns a massive manufacturing company. He’s filthy rich, comes from one of New York’s society families.” Kellan narrowed his gaze at her. “That was the only name?”
“Yeah and like I said, it’s weird. Why name anyone?” Sabrina frowned, chewing on her bottom lip, which Kellan found incredibly distracting for a second. “The encryption was easy to break too. Which is odd for a file as important as Night seems to think it is.”
She wasn’t wrong. It was odd. But he’d already come to a decision about what to do. “We need more,” he said. “I need absolute proof of Dad’s innocence to take to Night.”
“Well, the hard drive was in his safe . . .”
“So? Doesn’t mean Dad knows what’s on it or what it means.” The protestation sounded hollow, even to his own ears, but he ignored it.
Sabrina gave him a look he couldn’t quite interpret. “We should call the team and let them know we have the file. Downloading the information is all we were supposed to do.”
“No. I told Night I was going to find proof and that’s what I’m going to do.” And goddamn, finally a plan was slowly resolving itself in his head. It wasn’t what Jacob Night wanted, but that was too bad. Kellan wanted proof and he was going to get it. “I think I need to pay Andrew Elliott a little visit.”
She blinked. “What? Like, actually talk to him you mean?”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean.”
Energized, Kellan pushed himself out of bed and strode over to where his bag was on the floor by the window. At last he had something to do instead of sitting on the sidelines. Something that wasn’t fiddling about with files and computers, or having difficult conversations with and lying to his father. He’d always preferred the direct approach and going and talking to Elliott was as direct as it got.
As he bent to grab some clothes, he was conscious of Sabrina’s gaze following him, and predictably his cock liked that idea very much. For a second he debated whether or not they had some time to revisit a few memories from the night before, but then decided that there would be plenty of time for that later. And there would be later.
Last night with her had been . . . Well, he couldn’t think of when he’d had better, hotter sex in all his life, and now they’d taken that first step, he’d be fucked if he took it back. Sure, he’d wondered about crossing the line with her earlier, and whether that was a good idea, but it was too late for recriminations and backtracking now. He didn’t want to anyway.
And certainly not after her confession of her nightmare and the terrible vulnerability in her voice when she’d wondered why her mother had saved her. As if she truly didn’t know.
He’d wanted to wrap her up in his arms in that moment, run his hands all over her slender body, show her exactly how glad he was that her mother had saved her. And he might have if she hadn’t already had four orgasms in a row and sounded exhausted.
He’d settled for holding her close instead, keeping his arms around her as she’d fallen asleep, so she’d know he was there. Because he was always there for her and always would be. Even now they were more than simply friends.
“So what?” Sabrina asked doubtfully as he grabbed some clothing. “You’re going to simply stroll up to him and ask him why his name would be in a mysterious file you found on a badly encrypted hard drive in your father’s safe?”
“Sure, why not?” He turned and gave her a grin. “You know I like the direct approach.”
“He’s not going to just tell you, Kel.”
“In which case, I’ll give him some incentive.” He didn’t bother hiding the dangerous note in his voice. “This is the only lead we have and I’m following it.”
“But this is going beyond the mission.”
“So? I told Night I’d get him the intel and I will. But not until I get proof that Dad’s either innocent or guilty.”
She was still chewing on her lip, gazing at him uncertainly. “We have a time limit. They want that intel ASAP.”
“Yeah. Which is why I’m going to borrow the helicopter. Elliott’s in New York, so I’ll fly direct.”
Her brows drew together, a gold gleam in her eyes. “‘I’ll?’ Don’t you mean ‘we’ll’?”
“This is my deal. You can stay here where—”
“No, hell no.” She put the laptop to one side and slipped off the bed, crossing over to where he stood. “I’m coming. I’m part of this mission, remember?”
Christ. He didn’t want to take her, not when things could get messy and/or dangerous. Plus, he didn’t want her to see him get lethal with Elliott if the situation called for it. He’d rather she kept on thinking of him as one of the good guys.
“It could be dangerous, Bree,” he said, looking down at her. “Especially if Elliott turns out to be involved.”
“So? Believe it or not, I can fire a gun. Faith got me some lessons when I joined 11th Hour.”
Shit, really? This was the first he’d heard of it. “When? And why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you didn’t need to know. Plus, I didn’t want you telling me that I didn’t need lessons since I wouldn’t be going out in the field.”
He let out a breath. “I wouldn’t have said that.”
“Yes, you would.” She gave him back nothing but determination. “Anyway, I can defend myself if need be. And you might need me. How are you going to get to see this guy? You’re going to rock up in your helicopter going, ‘Hey, Andy, can I have a word?’”
Kellan stared at her, his heart beating faster at the gold glinting in her eyes, at the fierce look on her face. He wanted to protect her—he’d always wanted to—but shit, she’d fucking taken charge of this mission since they’d gotten here and she’d proved herself. So . . . why not take her?
Apart from anything else, he had a feeling she’d make it very difficult for him if he insisted she stay here and there was no time for arguing anyway.
Also, there was the matter of how he was going to borrow his father’s helicopter for a trip to New York, especially since flying off randomly to go visit one of his father’s friends would no doubt generate suspicion.
But taking his fiancée out for a surprise trip to the Big Apple? Yeah, that would work.
Not forgetting that you might need her.
He sighed. “Okay, okay. You can come. But from here on in, I’m in charge of this thing and you do what I tell you.” The gold in her gaze gleamed a little brighter at that, and his breath caught. “Shit, Bree. Don’t look at me like that.”
Her gaze dropped, to where he was hard and getting harder, and since he was naked, it was pretty fucking obvious. “Why not?” Her voice had gotten husky.
“Because you said there was no time for that. And you’re right, there isn’t.”
She swallowed and look away from him. “Of course there isn’t.”
Oh no, he wasn’t having that.
Catching her chin between his fingers, he turned her back to face him, looking down into her eyes, knowing already what she was thinking and wanting to nip that in the bud straight away. “No time doesn’t mean no, okay? Because I meant what I said last night. I’m not done with you, Sabrina Leighton. And I might not be done with you for a fucking long time.”
Color flooded her cheeks, her freckles standing out, her eyes suddenly very green as they searched his. As if she didn’t believe him. As if she thought he was lying.
So he gripped her chin tighter and leaned down, covering her mouth with his. But not hard or fierce like the night before. This time he went slow and deep, tasting her, convincing her without words, showing her the truth.
She made a soft noise in her throat, leaning into him, her hands coming to his chest, spreading out on his bare skin. And he knew he was going to have to stop this in its tracks or else they weren’t going to leave this room.
He lifted his head, almost forgetting himself when she rose on her tiptoes, trying to follow him to keep his mouth on hers. But he kept a tight grip on her, holding her still. “That’s not a threat,” he said softly. “That’s a promise. Understand me?”
Her throat moved as she swallowed. “Okay. It’s just . . . I’m not done with you yet either.”
Gently, he stroked her bottom lip with his thumb, relishing the soft feel of it. “Good. You’d better not be.”
Sabrina gave him a look from beneath thick dark lashes, then before he could move, she closed her teeth around his thumb and gave it a nip.
The slight pain shot straight to his cock and he inhaled sharply.
But she was already stepping away, acting like nothing had happened. “Right, so I guess you have a plan for getting to this Elliott guy? Because we’re going to need one.”
* * *
He did have a plan. And it was a pretty good one, even though her soul cringed at what he was going to expect of her.
He’d made her sit down and see if she could hack into Andrew Elliott’s company and access his secretary’s computer, get into his diary, which indeed, she could. They’d discovered that Elliott was attending a charity gala at the Met that night, which Kellan thought was the perfect opportunity to have his little “chat” since it didn’t include having to mess around with making appointments or breaking into his house—something Kellan had seriously suggested and she had nixed on the grounds that it was a stupid idea. She didn’t like the sound of the gala any better, but unfortunately it looked like it was the best way to get access to the guy.
Pity she hated parties and society parties in particular. It brought back memories of hovering on the outskirts of the parties the Blakes had thrown. Feeling out of place, not one of the family, and yet not a friend either. Not an acquaintance, yet not a stranger. A misplaced person who belonged nowhere.
Yeah, she did not want to go. Then again, there was no way Kellan was leaving her behind. She had no idea what this Elliott guy would say to him, but if it had anything to do with Phillip she had to be there. Not that she had any idea of how she was going to stop Kellan finding out about his father’s guilt. If indeed he was guilty, and since that conversation of Phillip’s that she’d overheard, she couldn’t kick the feeling that he was.
He’d betrayed his marriage vows and had another child. A child she’d seen with her own eyes. So why wouldn’t he betray his country? Plus, her mind kept going back over the way he’d talked about that “shipment” and the people who “wouldn’t be happy.” On the surface so innocuous and yet . . .
She kept those doubts to herself. Kellan couldn’t know. She’d promised Charlotte that would remain a secret.
A couple of hours later, Kellan having spoken to his father about taking his fiancée for a trip to New York in the Bell and received the go ahead, Sabrina found herself out on the lawn near the hanger where the helicopter had been prepared and was now ready for takeoff.
Flying to New York in a helicopter to attend a gala? What the fuck is happening to you?
She had no idea. All she needed was some damn princess gown and her Cinderella transformation would be complete.
You already have the handsome prince.
Sabrina’s throat tightened as she approached the helicopter, watching as Kellan moved around it, fluid and purposeful, making last-minute checks.
No, she didn’t have the handsome prince. Sure, she’d had him the night before but she didn’t have him. At least not in the way she wanted. It had been great sex—life-changing sex if she was honest with herself—but nothing more than that. He’d told her he wasn’t done with her, and she still didn’t quite know what she was going to do about that, because she wasn’t done with him either. She’d never be done with him. But one day, he’d be done with her. And that would break her heart.
He was always going to break your heart.
Yeah, that was true. So maybe she should take what she could get while the going was good.
Kellan came around the front of the helicopter, spotted her, and grinned. And that aching heart of hers—the one he was going to break one day—tightened. Because he had that boyish excitement about him that he always got when he was about to fly and it never failed to make her breath catch.
He loved to fly and after the accident he’d told her he wasn’t going to let one helo crash end his flying days. So as soon as he’d been medically cleared, he’d gotten straight back into a helicopter again. And he’d been keeping those flying skills sharp in San Diego by flying the small collection of 11th Hour helicopters when he could.
He leaned back against the machine as she approached, tall and gorgeous in jeans and a blue T-shirt the same color as his eyes, a battered leather jacket thrown over the top.
“Are you ready?” That heart-stopping grin was playing around his mouth, his gaze brilliant. “Your chariot awaits.”
She gave him a dubious look. “So what are we going to do about clothes for this gala thing? I don’t know if it’s a jeans and T-shirt kind of event.”
“Don’t worry about that. We’ll go get something from Barneys.”
Ugh. Shopping.
She pulled a face, but he only laughed at her. “A tux for me and a dress for you. It’ll take five minutes, I promise.”
“Can’t we just hire something?”
He gave her a slightly incredulous glance. “Uh, no. We can’t. Not for a gala at the Met.” Pushing himself away from the machine, he turned back to it, then pulled open the passenger side door, reaching in, then bringing out a helmet, holding it out for her. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Ten minutes later they were in the air, Kellan’s strong hands on the joystick as they flew. She’d flown with him many times and yet she never failed to get a kick out of watching him pilot a helicopter. He was so confident, so sure. As if the machine would do anything and everything he wanted it to, without any problems at all.
