Sake Bomb (29 page)

“Said it yourself…I’m
scary
good with
a blade, Duquesne,” Kizzie said, voice deceptively soft. “And it’s
not as hard as you think. Doesn’t stay with you that long
either.”

“There’s one critical point you’ve missed:
no profit in peace.” It was his turn to stand, moving so close she
had to tilt her head back to stare into his eyes. “War does nothing
but fill my pockets. So whether Harvey goes off in Iran or America
or Australia,” he shrugged, “I bank either way.”

Kizzie shook her head. “I don’t believe
you.”

“Your call. I’m touched you think I have
some redeeming qualities, but… maybe I don’t. Maybe I do what I do
to get paid and it’s as simple as that.”

She blew a derisive laugh through her nose.
“Money. The whole goddamned world is chasing money. All these
really rich people who are nowhere near happy.”

“Did I say I want happy? I don’t even know
what that is.” He stared her in the eyes, voice hardening. “What’s
personal between us is personal between us, Kizzie. That’s not
gonna change. But since we’re back on the business side, adding in
the ‘untidy bits’—back to you being an impatient agent and me the
ruthless criminal—last warning. I’m not usually one of the good
guys, Princess. Believe me.”

Xander brushed past her and headed into the
bedroom, leaving Kizzie standing in the common area to contend with
her anger. Why was she fighting this so hard? Her gut said don’t
trust him, same way it said don’t trust delivery boys or
blue-haired old ladies. But it also said this man—the same man who
wanted to make love to her, had kissed her like she was the most
precious part of his universe—wasn’t as heartless as he
claimed.

Maybe she just didn’t want him to be.

She should walk away from this, believe—

“So what was Zlata, then?” Kizzie marched
through the double doors. Xander was at the closet, starting to
pull clothes from the hangers. He stopped and faced her. “Business
or personal? ‘Cause you didn’t have to help her, but I asked you to
and you did. Phil told me you set her up somewhere Sacha Sokoviev’s
men could never find her. But Sacha and his men are dead…” Her
voice took on an accusatory tone. “I wonder who killed them.”

“Zlata was…” Xander exhaled audibly, set the
clothes back on the rack. “She didn’t have anything to do with
this.”

“Why, then?” Kizzie asked, poking at the
small chink in his armor. “You’re
Master
Don’t Give a Damn
About the World. Why not leave her behind when the crap hit the
fan? Why not leave
me
behind, huh? You could’ve let me die
in that dungeon. You knew who I was, who I work for. ”

“I needed you to get Harvey.”

“Bull, Duquesne. You could’ve done it
without me then, same way you could do it without me now,” Kizzie
fired, hardly taking a breath. She took the step needed to
completely close the gap between them. “I was gone…. Halfway around
the world doing what I do and then
you
called me back—”

“And you came.”

Three little words sucked the wind right out
of her sails, the implication hitting harder than a horse kick to
the head.

And you came…

Because you trust me.

His gaze bored into hers, and Kizzie had to
inch back again. Mouth open, her brain worked quickly to spin the
situation. “We had a deal. I help you get Harvey, you help me get
3-19. That was it, right? Simple. So let’s not complicate this
anymore. There doesn’t—”

His strong hands on her—
in
her—was
still a fresh memory, teeming over her skin, raw and electric…

Kizzie removed the tie dangling at her wrist
and held it out to him. “There
is
no ‘personal,’ X. I don’t
trust you, don’t know what you want. I’m sure you feel the same
about me. But so far you’ve kept your word. If that’s your sole
honorable quality, I’ll take it.”

Xander paused a long moment, glanced at the
tie in her grip. “Nothing in it for me. I’m out a large chunk of
change. If I help you get Harvey and 3-19, that’s no longer a
trade, is it? That’s me doing you two favors.” He held up as many
fingers to punctuate his point.

“I’ll figure out how to get your money
back.”

“Didn’t invest in Harvey to break even. But
maybe for the right price…”

“Name it.”

A slow grin spread over his face. Without
even her soul to sell, Kizzie had just made a deal with the
devil.

“I’ll think about what I want.” Xander
stepped around her, abandoning the brief attempt at packing to go
through the double-doors.

She grabbed his arm. “We do this right now.
Terms. On the table.”

“Can’t think of a single thing I want at the
moment, Kizzie, and we’ve already got enough on our plate with
tracking the Mistress and stopping Harvey. I’ve got a sub to go
break, so you’ll just have to be in my debt.”

“No.” She shook her head adamantly.
“
No
. That gives a man too much control, and a man with
control decides when the debt’s paid. Or if it’s ever paid.” Kizzie
forced herself not to look away. Doing that would be the same as
confessing for past sins.

His gaze dipped suggestively, lifted to her
face. “You know how much I like being in control, though,” Xander
said softly, cupping his hand behind her neck.

Kizzie jerked back. A slow, ragged chuckle
bubbled up from somewhere deep inside, scraped from her throat.
“Stupid dolphin…” she whispered, berating herself. “Sex? That’s all
this was about?”

“That’s—”

“Nah, it’s cool. I prefer it that way. Just
think you sold yourself short, chief, ‘cause 20 minutes ago I’da
fucked
you for free.”

Kizzie hooked her fingers in the hem of her
torn shirt and lifted, yanking the top over her head in one angry
pull. She tossed it and the tie on the bed, stood in just her bra
and frilly tutu. Her chest thundered so hard bile rose in her
throat. Completely off-balance, like the world had just been
snatched from beneath her. “But hey, if being your whore means
saving lives,” a shrug, “done.”

His eyes widened a hair and then a sharp V
burrowed into Xander’s forehead. Arms crossed over his chest, he
rocked back on his heels. “Would you, now? Be my whore, that
is.”

Kizzie returned the expression, unballed her
fists and slowly bobbed her head.

“And since you would be my…
whore
,”
Xander said, voice low and slow, “I could do anything to you,
couldn’t I? Pussy…ass…mouth….” His shoulders lifted and fell.
“‘Cause that’s all you are to me, right? Just a handful of holes? I
can take you any way I want to...” She hesitated; Xander licked his
lips, added evenly, “I’m out 6 million, Kizzie, and you
would
owe me.”

A harsh breath. “Whatever gets the job
done.”

One corner of Xander’s mouth ticked up, the
look on his face enigmatic. “Business…”

“Business,” she echoed coolly.

He dipped his head toward the bed. “Go bend
over the edge then.”

Kizzie didn’t move, registering what she was
about to do. An immense anger settled on her shoulders and she let
fly without concern for what she said. “Be easy with the ribs,
slick. Still sore from the last son of a bitch.”

“Why would
I
care?” Xander asked. His
eyes were hard, face a mask.

“Yeah,” Kizzie agreed, tone matching his.
“Why would you?”

Teeth grit, she inched toward the large
mattress, slow steps conveying her mood. Damn, she didn’t want to
do this. Not like this. She thought Xander better than—

Stop thinking.

Her heart sank at the same time her knees
did. Another glance in Xander’s direction and he shooed her on with
a dismissive little sweep of his fingers. She bent forward, hot
face meeting the cold comforter. It smelled like his
cologne—beneath that, she picked out the faint scent of industrial
cleanser.

Sterile.

Soulless.

Just like Xander. He wasn’t one of the good
guys—or even
a
good guy. High time Kizzie believed him.

Like a Master looking down on his obedient
bitch, he watched her indifferently. She’d never felt so low. There
was a time… No, this was worse. ‘Cause before Sumi showed, Kizzie
wanted
to sleep with Xander, even armed with the knowledge
that he was married. Wanted him to make love to her like he’d said.
Wanted what she felt from those kisses to be real.

Now she wished he’d find another way to
torture her. At least grant her that mercy.

Suck it up, cadet.

Hands. Hot breath. Her cheek met the
wall.

She squeezed here eyes shut, blinked back to
the present.

If fucking Xander was the price of
preventing a catastrophe, she’d do it.

It was just sex.

God, she couldn’t stop the nervous shaking
in her belly. Had to get out of her angry haze long enough to hear
what he was saying.

“Arms above your head, agent.”

His deep voice was far too soft for this
humiliation. If it were rougher she might get through this, might
be able to—

“Baldwin.”

A whispered order. She lifted her arms,
stretching them over the comforter. Tears stung her eyes and her
breath left her nose in harsh spurts. Kizzie couldn’t stand to look
at him—couldn’t stand the thought that Xander Duquesne would be the
man to break her.

And he’d know it.

She forced back the weakness and turned her
head, focused on the fall of the curtains framing Tokyo’s neon
glow.

“Reach a little farther up.” Through the
thundering in her ears he sounded so far away.

She brushed the undershirt he’d flung there
earlier; curled the material into her fists, her fingers the only
part of her moving. The rest was numb. She worked to steady her
breathing, think about something else. How had she gotten through
the first time? The first time was—

No.

This was exactly the same.

Get out of your body. Out of your head. You
don’t exist. You’re hollow.

Hollow.

It’ll be over soon.

Soft footsteps behind her.

Her stomach turned.

The shaking increased and fire danced across
her skin. She inhaled a slow breath and waited.

Waiting made it worse.

Dead silence for a long moment and then,
miles away, the door to the suite slammed shut.

* * * *

X
ander stumbled from
their room in a daze. What the hell just happened?

One minute things were going exactly as he
intended—she’d get Harvey and 3-19, and in exchange he’d get what
he wanted—the next everything was FUBAR.

“Out, huh?” Phil said. He stood in the
hallway, leaving Xander no time to get his game face on. “Now why
would you want Kizzie to think you’d walk away from Harvey?”

For her, he would.

Moving toward the stairwell, Xander grunted
noncommittally, working to keep his expression neutral. A hard job,
considering.

Business? Nothing personal between them?
Both of those were like needles to the heart but paled in
comparison to what Kizzie really thought. That he’d take something
from her, that he’d whore her out for his help.

What kind of monster did she think he
was?

But then, what did he expect? A handful of
spankings did not a relationship make and he didn’t help matters by
drilling into her head at every turn that he was not a good man.
Funny how that worked, people not trusting bad guys...

“Nikolay—”

“Is a loose-lipped S.O.B. who should thank
whatever devil he’s bowing to that he’s no longer on this earth,”
Xander ground out, still moving. He shook the errant thought away
and exhaled.

Primo clusterfuck.

Kizzie made it perfectly clear that she
trusted no one, and he didn’t blame her. But Xander had been so
close to trusting
her
, so close to thinking Kizzie and
Connolly couldn’t possibly be cut from the same cloth. That her
connection to the old man could be severed. And why? Because she
was playing at being submissive? Because it felt right disciplining
her? Because he wanted to make love to her?

Because, for a minute, Kizzie stripped away
everything else, leaving Xander with the only responsibility he
wanted: Being her Dom.

Damn his head hurt, and it sounded like
Charlie Brown’s mom was talking:
“Womp womp mwomp womp
mwooommp…”

Xander stopped short and grimaced. “What are
you saying?”

Phil fronted him, brows raised high, and
repeated himself. “The laptop. Akari worked logistics for Hanabi.
Found a bunch of recent commercial orders, large enough to be going
by cargo ship. Low emissions and coming from a fireworks company…?
Good way to move a nuke.”

“To?”

Phil
mwomp womp
ed and Xander bobbed
his head, only half listening anyway, his attention back in the
room with Kizzie.

Where had it even come from, the notion that
she was a whore? The way her expression changed—that brief flicker
of pain followed by a resolute stoicism—made him think somebody put
the idea there.

He should have handled it better. But
sitting and talking like a proper D/s couple wasn’t a luxury he and
Kizzie shared. Too many secrets that neither could budge on. So,
while walking away wasn’t his first choice, it was definitely his
best bet.

Kizzie was wrong—Doms weren’t Mary Poppins.
Not perfect in any way. Especially when they let their guard down
and got hurt…

Xander dragged his hand over his mouth,
catching the intoxicating scent of her sweetness on his fingers.
Only thing sweeter was her decision to go through with submitting.
He’d seen the struggle in her eyes when he made her crawl, but she
set it aside to please him, to challenge herself. One small step
forward and then bedlam.

He had to go back, clear things up—

“Wobbling on that tightrope, X?”